I realized upon seeing this just how small man is.
Penguin-Link-Carl Sagan
Poem-Little Cosmic Dust Poem
Picture-Jacqui Sabarido-As she was
Poem-A Somebody-I wrote this for Jacqui
Picture-Jacqui-As she looks today
Quote-Positives
Picture-My son Danny at 17
Picture-Danny & his wife
~~Cody~~New grandson. Danny & Doran's baby
Born June 16, 2006
Penguin-Link-Fred On Everything-Very truthful funny commentaries on our times-A
pleasure to read!
Poem-No More Lost Socks-I wrote this for my son Danny when
he graduated from high school
Picture-Japanese Woman
Poem-The Painting
Poem-In These Rooms by Barton-I was deeply touched by the words
in this poem
Poem-Gram, I Heard You Reading All Along-
This came from the heart
as I recalled many times staying with my Gram
Quote-
Quote-
Picture-Audie Murphy-I admire Audie very much even though he
is gone
Quote-
Picture-Picture of my beautiful fearless daughter Robin
Poem-Not An Ounce Of Fear-I wrote this for my daughter who has
never feared a thing-She would fly a stealth bomber if given the chance!
A short story-
Quote
Raven picture-Click to go back to page one.
The earth
is the small white dot
in the vastness of space.
We are so very small
compared to all of the
universe.
Carl Sagan-His Blue Dot
Little Cosmic Dust Poem
Out of the debris
of dying stars, this rain of particles that waters the waste with brightness; the sea-wave of atoms hurrying home, collapse
of the giant, unstable guest who cannot stay;
the sun’s heart reddens and expands, his mighty aspiration
is lasting, as the shell of his substance one day will be white with frost.
In the radiant field of Orion great
hordes of stars are forming, just as we see every night, fiery and faithful to the end.
Out of the cold and fleeing
dust that is never and always, the silence and waste to come- this arm, this hand, my voice, your face, this
love.
John Haines-1936
Jacqui, as she was.
~~A Somebody~~
The flames angry with rage, hungry slapping
my face. I remember the red tongue swiping a lick wasting my hair.
My ears pop drooling down in a black pool
of syrup schorching
my hands
My face turns a
molten meting plastic.
My screams smothered by
a black snake of air coiling
down into my throat.
Sirens wail.
My legs scorched, brittle, fleshlesless
charred logs. The hungry flames had their meal. My fingers gone, mere cauliflower nubs;
burning burning
red.
I’m raw from
disinfectant scrubs. The crying and screaming begins
once more. A morose reflection stare's
solemnly; Frankenstein stares back at me, my head a hairless knob; The silken skin turns to scabby cornflakes.
The court jester made a difference in someone's
life;
his mind a spinning
kaliedescope, guzzling as he pleased. The
jester was confused, alone and angry at someone
or something, perhaps angry
at a Spainish flea.
A somebody changed me; A somebody wanted
to feel better. A somebody lifted a bottle to his laughing lip and,
howls with laughter sprawled
in a pool of my blood .
................................................
This poem has been written
for Jacqueline Saburido
who was hit by a drunk driver.
Please go to Google & put in her
name and you will see
how she is fighting to take back
her life.
This is Jacqui today
Positive Quote
******************
If you wish to
travel far and fast,
travel light.
Take off all your
envies,
jelousies,
unforgiveness,
selfishness,
and
fears.
Glenn Clark.
Danny
Danny and his beautiful wife
CODY-New grandson-Danny & Doran's baby
Fred On Everything
The following was written
almost four years ago.
Danny's life has
changed alot since
then.
My son Danny recently
moved into a place of his own.
Like any mom he is still my
little boy no matter his age
or status in life.
I hated to see him grow up
so fast, but now I must advise
carefully & still hold him
as close in my heart.
~~Update~~
Danny will soon join the
the military, what a proud moment
it was for me when he told me
of his future plans.
I'll just cry all over creation when
I go see him graduate from basic training.
I've posted a few pictures
of his graduation from high school.....It was
indeed a proud moment for him.
~~Another update~~
May 11, 2006
Danny recently married
a beautiful young lady.
And, in about a month a
baby boy named Cody
will be born to them.
I'm looking forward so
much to seeing
this baby, and I wonder who
he will look like the most.
..............................
No More Lost Socks
Yesterday I hunted for those missing socks,
the ones you took off and whipped through the air. The socks took on a life all their own hibernating under
your bed, the chair, your teddy bear.
In a few months my precious son you will
graduate. You'll walk the path of dreams reaching high into clouds laced with hopes of success. I will walk
another path of memories you leave behind. I’ll remember the days you struggled to keep the wheels straight
on your new bike. And the day you were thrown for a loop stepping on a rolling ball.
I still have time to find those lost socks,
matching the dirt marks with each one found. It’s no bother for I realize the search will soon end; I’ll
miss my duties as mom. Nothing will ever replace the memories you leave behind.
Your search for self determination
and definition will walk beside
you as you
look into options to succeed. Everyday
will create new events with
memories of your own. That first big
break will come after
many days of walking the beat for work.
With every step taken a little voice in
your gut will say, “glad I took some
extra courses in night school.”
I look forward to the day you marry. Honor
your vows and your lady dressed in white beside you; keep her content with praise and compliments every chance you
get. Handle her flaws and mistakes with gentle concern. Discuss often your differences on any given matter. Tell
her often how much you love her and laugh together at the differences between you. Compromise on how many children,
or what kind of house you want; and understand the reason why.
Post a guard of honor near your temper;
walk away quietly should your guard
leave you temporarily.
When both of you settle into the realm of
love and hopeful goals never let aging nor the sight of a gray hair part your ways; both of you will feel youthful
in your reflections; only time will dispense with a few wrinkles and lines across your brow.
You will become a dad someday too.
Keep your children safe with high moral convictions and respect for your children’s rights. Teach them values
based on hard work with good times thrown in. Remind yourself often to count your fingers in frustrating moments
with them.
Pass on all you believe in a positive light,
for your children will carry and pass all you give to their own.
I’ve saved many of your baby shoes.
I get them out every so often and remind myself you are now a young man on your way down a new road. As you
walk along take with you these thoughts and don’t forget to pick up your lost socks!
Bette.M. 2002
~~Written By MOM~~
...............
The Painting
I stare at her, this painting of a Japanese
woman. Her persona seems tranquil, like a gold fish resting
in a remote glass pond.
Magically, my aura transcends time, space
and reality.
I step into the frame, turning back to see
myself. I'm not there, for a moment I wondered how did I get here in this abstract form? A warm sensation engulfs
me
like a sip of herbal tea.
My hair rolled up around the crown,
reminding me of crescent rolls, with three
red sticks
of cinnamon and parasol hair clips. My
skin painted smooth, silk strands as I touch along the slippery slopes of my legs.
My lips are thin like the hue of a red setting
sun;I take on her pose.
Shying toward the corner frame, my eyes
slant shut in a mere calligraphers mark. One glistening shoulder exposed, the other covered in lavender pansies and
red dragon prints.
The pansies and dragons imaginatively fight
for territory on the landscape of my shoulder. The silk worms run amok about the wrap of my torso.
I feel the warm breath
of admiration from the gallery crowd.
A whiff of air surrounds my flaming ego;
the ohhhhhh?s and ahhhhh?s from breathless
admirers.
I awake seeing my Siamese cat, swinging a shredded
mouse
by it's tail from his dragon jaws.
In These Rooms by Barton
In these rooms
I
have bared what was left of my sorry soul I have shed tears that, until this time, fell only on deaf ears I have held
the hands of those I would never before have touched And I have found what was once lost in a world that only cares for
itself.
In these rooms
I have seen pain that can only be compared with chilldbirth I have heard stories worthy
of telling others for many lifetimes I have seen many who could not accept the gift that is continually offered And
I have found love so pure that no one willing could deny its existence.
In these rooms
I have watched as gentle
people threw themselves back to the wolves I have prayed with those who, like myself, could not believe I have wept
for others who, until now, I would never have noticed And I have found a truth, that for most, is as elusive as the holy
grail.
In these rooms
I have fallen in love, made and lost friends and let you love me I have been touched
so deeply, and I pray that I will never forget I have made promises for the promises that have been promised to me And
I have found God, not in the heavens, but in the hearts of those In these rooms.
Gram, I Heard You Reading All Along
Gram, you stood over that hot plate stove,cooking, and moving
about the flies in your eyes. You would ask someone to get more wood. The water needed a high flame for those potatoes you
peeled yesterday. I was mentally hearing you talk of another era. Perhaps when you were small, and was told to help out all
the time. I sat at your table, it was covered in an old oil cloth, but clean as the day it was bought. Those left over biscuits
and gravy tasted mighty good as you unknowingly wrote “your” storybook.
I was being handed memories with every move you made. I was writing
it all down in my unconscious ways. Gram, you never would understand all this talk of memories, Freud, and Jung. Interpretations
from past events and how they impact our every future thought. All you cared about was the next meal, some contributions sent
in from a prayer above. Gram, you knew as long as you got up every morning to start the fires everyone would have bacon and
eggs; then your boys would go lookin’ for jobs hoping to be hired. Sometimes things got the best of you Gram. Like the
time you beat poor uncle Eddie till he bled, sitting in the sun all red down his back. I remember tapping him gently, saying
it was o.k. I never knew what he did that made you so mad that day. He seemed to hear me, and nodded a tearful reply of it’s
alright.
Gram, you didn’t know it at all but, you were telling me
a story. Telling me how it was you were raised. To make the best of a bad deal handed down in your early days. Sometimes the
deal got real rough. I saw Gramps sittin’ on the wooden porch black as coal from the mines dust. I wish I had been listening
better, I would have known how bad it was.
Gram, when I hear all the cane raised today over poverty, it makes
me think back to the days you cooked, washed and slaved. I remember that washboard too. Your hands sure did get red from the
lye soap…….homemade. There wasn’t even a parade or march going on for you or your better half.
Gram, you never did finish your stories. I watched, listened a
bit,and mentally stored them away. All those stories “you told”,I’m thinking about now, and all I can do
is what you did. Perhaps in a better way. I’ll write a book and keep in touch……..I’ll be sure to read
all the directions on my way up.
I never dreamed of being Shakespeare or Goethe,
and I never expected to hold the great mirror of truth up before the world; I dreamed only
of being a little pocket mirror,
the sort that a woman can carry
in her purse; one that reflects small blemishes,
and some great beauties, when held close enough
to the heart.
Peter Altenberg- ................................... Love
is something eternal, the aspect may change, but not the essence. Vincent Van Gogh- ...................................
In 1957 a rose was named in honor of Audie Murphy.
Audie Murphy, the most
highly decorated soldier
of WWII.
Please click on his photo
to go to his memorial page.
...........
There is
at least
one thing more brutal
than the truth, and that is the
consequence of
saying
less that the truth- Ti-Grace Atkinson(1974)
...........
"I pledge allegiance to the flag
of the United States of America
and to the Republic for which it stands,
one nationunder God,
indivisible,
with liberty
and justice for all." --official version since 1954
My daughter
Robin,
I could not
have picked a better
name for her!
Robin is a certified para-legal and is now
living in Tennessee. Robin has absolutely no fear of anything. She would fly a stealth bomber without batting an eye. She
has been fearless all her life & that prompted the poem you can read below.
Robin
Not An Ounce Of Fear
I wait, look, and listen.
Lightening shatters the devils sky;
a funnel sweeps me up. Angry clouds swallow
me;
my heart is excited with fear. I want more.
I search flattened towns; the eye follows
me.
The risk is a thrill; my veins are popping
with blood; racing against time.
The rains pour like silver from the heavens;
let me stand in it.
The hurricane winds tear me free; lift me
higher and higher.
I hear a jet cracking the cloud. I’ll
race, run till I drop.
A wish for one swoop under me; take me to
meet the eagles high.
The floods ripping the earth inch by inch;
give me my arms to swim the rage.
I’ll not calm the mighty waters, let
me tumble against every bolder.
I’ll fall from the sky to the oceans
depth; the whale is what
I want to challenge; he’ll know I’m
there. We are survivors of the unknown.
The roller coaster roars at a hundred miles
per hour. I want to get out,
hang from the bar as it rips around; I’ll
feel an electrical charge.
I’ve not tasted it all, the thrill others
run from.
I’ll trip the light fantastic
in a volcano flow.
Mother Earth unleash your anger.
You belong to me.
A
story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey they had an argument, and one
friend slapped the other one in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand:
"TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE." They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take
a bath. The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After he recovered
from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone: "TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE." The friend who had slapped and saved his
best friend asked him, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?" The other friend replied:"When
someone hurts us we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something
good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it." LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE
YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE. They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them,
but then an entire life to forget them. Send this phrase to the people you'll never forget and remember to send it also to
the person who sent it to you. It's a short message to let them know that you'll never forget them. If you don't send it to
anyone, it means you're in a hurry and that you've forgotten your friends. Take the time to live!!!
"You do not really understand something unless you can explain it to your
grandmother." Albert Einstein
