Zen-like life-Force >
the flow of ideas quickens beyond chronicle..
My last liberal cup
of coffee astral projected
from Hyde Park to Riverside
one late weekday morning..
No longer ‘agreeing’
with conservative ideas,
I now live and breathe them;
In other words,
no longer a liberal
transformed.
Two Visions of O’Keeffe
by
Christina Murphy
The snow is a flute of multiple blessings,
a pale blazing of crystal light that renews
the loving heart and gathers up the world
into the exultations of a white-cold sky
from circumference to core
Sea winds flower in the twilight
and rocks sing softly to waterfalls;
and everywhere, always,
there is the desire to know
what light there is within the light
that splits darkness into a silver moon
lifting, like an eagle, into a peaceful sky
Christina Murphy’s poetry is an exploration of consciousness as subjective experience, and her poems appear in a wide range of journals and anthologies, including, PANK, Dali’s Lovechild, and Hermeneutic Chaos Literary Journal, and in the anthologies From the Roaring Deep: A Devotional in Honor of Poseidon and the Spirits of the Sea, The Great Gatsby Anthology, and Remaking Moby-Dick. Her work has been nominated multiple times for the Pushcart Prize and for the Best of the Net Anthology.
Amanda Clay’s Rebel Song
Rebel Song is a modern day love story set in Arelanda in Europe. It is exciting and will keep you reading from the first page to the last. It is the story about the prohibited love between Princess Elyra and the winemaker Rogan. Her father, the king, and Pantone keep the rich very rich and do not care about the poor or the ones who fought wars for Arelanda and their king. Rogan is part of a rebellion to overcome the royals when he meets and falls in love with Princess Elyra. They know that being in love can be very dangerous, yet their love does not waver. Then when things get worse……Buy Rebel Song today to find out what happens in this exciting love story between the Princess and the Winemaker. I absolutely loved the book and know that you will too!!
Rebel Song may be ordered here: http://www.amazon.com/Rebel-Song-Amanda-J-Clay-ebook/dp/B00PTC7KWA/
Dale Wiley’s The Intern
The Intern is a murder mystery with humor. I love those. It is the story of Trent Norris who is an intern with the National Endowment for the Arts and is in the wrong place at the wrong time and who does something quite stupid that gets him framed for murder among other things. You will laugh your way through this thrilling page turner. A must have for the mystery lover. I highly recommend it.
Dale Wiley’s novel may be ordered here: http://www.amazon.com/Intern-Dale-Wiley-ebook/dp/B00USSDLPA/
A Rose in the Desert is a fantasy with plenty of suspense and adventure. It is the story of 14 year old Ethyrin who is the nephew of the King of Arandia. The King wants Ethyrin killed. Ethyrin runs and goes to Calimshaan with his cousin Prince Irudan who is leading an envoy there. Calimshaan is known as the City of Delights, the king and others also want him dead. Ethyrin meets Nuara, a girl that was kidnapped and sold into slavery. She is made to sing at the King’s whim because she has the most beautiful voice around. Ethyrin and Nuara both escape to find a way to get Nuara home with her people. On the way they encounter dangers and every adventure imaginable. This would make a great gift for the tween or teen in your life. I highly recommend it.
Louis Piechota’s novel may be ordered here: http://www.amazon.com/A-Rose-Desert-Louis-Piechota-ebook/dp/B00IJMZQL4
(cover not yet available)
The Shoebox will make you laugh and make you want to cry. It is the story of Jessica who gets the chance of a lifetime to go to Ireland for her company. While there she makes many friends and meets a guy….Read The Shoebox and see how Jessica compares relationships to shoes. It is a fun, quick read, and I know you will enjoy it as much as I did.
Tracy Ploch’s novel may be ordered here: http://www.tracyploch.com/
LIBRARIES
When I was a child, the only library to which I was exposed was in my school. I don’t think I really understood the value it represented at that time. By the time high school arrived, it seemed we were in that library a great deal of the time. Eventually, after graduation, I wound up working in our main central library and it was a Civil Service position. I remember being quite nervous about taking that exam but, thankfully, I passed it.
I started work there and was given a tour of the library. There were 3 floors plus a basement and a sub-basement. It was all quite confusing at first. In fact, the sub-basement was a little scary and I thought I never want to go down there. There were so many departments to learn about. My first job was inspecting the new books as they arrived, processing the information and entering the pertinent facts regarding that book on file cards. All cards, from time to time, were taken down to the catalogs on the first floor and filed properly in drawers. It was interesting but I hoped for a promotion eventually. It finally happened after a year or less after I was hired. There was an opening in the public relations department and I was transferred to that office. I worked for a very nice woman who taught me the parts of that job for which I was responsible. It really was fun as well as work because I had the opportunity to take spot announcements to the downtown radio and TV stations and meet some of the staff in those offices. Learning and experiencing the behind the scenes work at a library gave me also an opportunity to participate in some of the events held at that library. There, quite often, it may seem that a library is a boring place to be. But the opposite is what is true. A library is alive with stories of the past, the history of so many different cultures, scientific discoveries, our galazy and so much more. There are also phones ringing with people seeking help or being directed to the proper department, students sitting at tables pouring over books to find much needed answers to their projects or papers and many people coming in to the library to have personal conversations with the librarians. There are multiple floors to explore, art to be seen, children listening intensely to a librarian reading a story book to them and enjoying the beautiful architecture of so many of the libraries.
My experience in that library prepared me for other jobs in the future. It taught me the “stick to it and you can get the job done” as well as good interactions with people and maturing in the way to think and work.
Responders
There are scattered pieces of stale rye bread in the patchy snow of Sloan’s Lake Park. The geese ignore them. The old man who put them there gets on his bicycle and begins to ride away, but he doesn’t get far before he falls over onto the unyielding pavement. Pinned by his bicycle, he’s hurt and perplexed. He’s been riding a bike for over seventy years and has never lost his balance before.
I call 911, even after the old man sees me pull out my cell phone and snaps: Don’t call 911. I don’t want to argue with him. He’s too confused to make a judgment. I just do what I think is right.
The EMT’s put him in the back of the ambulance. What about his bike, I ask.
I don’t know, says one. I don’t know about bicycles. We just take the people. Bicycles have to fend for themselves.
Really? That’s your answer? You must be new.
The First Responder doesn’t respond.
I end up taking the bicycle for the old man. I don’t want the responsibility, but I’m the only one there. I’m not looking forward to returning it to him. He’ll probably be pissed at me for calling 911. He might even get violent. But I’m not worried. I can outrun an old man who can’t even manage to stay on his bike anymore.
I watch the ambulance drive toward St. Anthony’s Hospital. The geese have decided that the rye bread is safe, and are busy eating it. Goose shit is all over the grass, as usual.
That night, I’m in a dark closet, stretched out on the shoes, lots of shoes, footwear for all seasons, cowboy boots with horse shit still on, thongs with grains of sand, rain boots running with water, espadrilles, high top sneakers, shoes with cleats. I’m writhing, allowing all those shoes to fuck me in the ass, make me their bitch.
Clothes hang above me. Inside each shirt is an evil spirit, in every jacket a Nazi. I scream: Oh Lord, why hast thou forsaken me?
The closet door opens. A woman vaguely familiar (I think I was married to her) yells: Get out, you fucking party crasher.
I need medical marijuana to ease this bad trip.