Haiku Heights – Snow

Sepia Snowflakes, Arizona

Sepia Snowflakes, Arizona (Photo credit: cobalt123)

Dancing its way down


Snowflakes! (Photo credit: nutmeg66)

Spiraling in frosty turns

Catch flakes, tilt back, laugh.


Mud, slush, freezing rain

Shoes are wet, mind is weary

Sunlight, my savior. (alternate ending: get me out of here)


Big, puffy, snow flakes

Etchings in blue, red, yellow

Capturing the art.


The mountains of white

glimpsing the silver, ice tips

the igloo of love.


Snow is for children

Romps and sleds, hot chocolate

Marshmallow dreams.

Love Is Love In Any Language

It doesn’t take much to make another person happy. I’ve been actively trying and going out of my way to make sure I give extra smiles, be extra patient while driving (I never said it was easy) and generally be a nicer, better, human being. It has to start somewhere so random acts of kindness and going out of my way to do good has always been part of my life’s plan. I’m just doubling the efforts now. Maybe the people I am doing little things for will actually do something nice for another person and then another person….I hope so. In any case, it certainly can’t hurt.

I’m not the most patient person all the time, me of the rolling eyes and the heaving sighs. Yes, it’s true, I have been known to do that when I get aggravated or annoyed (ask my children they will certainly tell you) but at least I’m aware of it now and if I catch myself while I am doing it, I may look like a lunatic but I try to change that behavior mid-stream. I’m trying. Success definitely takes time.

This isn’t a new 2013 New Year’s Resolution, I frankly don’t believe in those. This is a general way to feed my soul and hope it helps other people. I just want to be a nicer human being and hope others want the same thing too. I want to go out of my way to do something I normally wouldn’t do. At the supermarket I am guilty of leaving the grocery cart near my car, that’s not nice. So, I will make an effort to roll it to the nearest stand, it will only take me an extra minute. I might complain about the cold weather to myself but it’s the least I can do.  If I do something nice for you, please pass it on to someone else. This country needs this, especially now.

If even one person reading this decides that he or she wants to do the same thing, it would make a huge difference. Check out the video below, you don’t need to know the language, you will understand the thought and the kindness immediately.

My Voice Returns Softly


Cherub (Photo credit: Mr Mo-Fo)

I haven’t been able to write a cohesive sentence since the viscous killings in Newtown, Ct. I’ve started more than a dozen pieces but they have all been left, to age, in my computer like a piece of green, moldy cheese. I felt like my soul had been snuffed out, like a lit candle, and until today I could not put those sentiments in words. It was too devastating. While I think of those babies, young, innocent children every day, I’ve been forced to realize that life, does indeed, go on.

There is something about young, innocent children that tears apart the hearts of every mother and father in ways that are indescribable to others. As a mother of two, now grown children, it is the worst thing you can possibly think of and more. I over identified and was consumed with the sadness that those families are going through. The thought of God having more angels didn’t comfort me at all. The unfairness and the brutality shattered me internally. Many others have written about how they feel about the incident but unless you are a parent, there is no comparison. It’s something you can’t possibly understand and there’s NO judgement, it just comes from a very different viewpoint. It’s almost like saying that someone who has a cold and feels sick is just like a cancer patient, because, they both are sick, that may make NO sense and that is the point.

I decided this morning that my life has to go on and all those other posts can stay in my computer for as long as they want or at some point maybe I will finish them. But, I needed to tell you why I’ve been silent for so long. Yes, a week, to me, is a long time. For those who know me, I’m sure they can guess the timing given my sensitivity. This silenced me like nothing else could. Part of me wanted to jump into my car and drive to Newtown to offer my condolences to anyone there but I don’t think they want tourists now to gather and gawk. My prayers, love and healing thoughts have already been sent from my heart. I know I will go there, perhaps in the Spring, and pay my respects.

I need to move on and to find the joy in life, the funny times but in the past few weeks I’ve also been physically sick either from a Fibromyalgia Flare up (Fibro Flare-Up,)  IBS, stomach bug or a combination thereof. This started way before the Newtown incident and hasn’t resolved itself yet. Eventually I will drag myself to the replacement doctor (who you know is filling in for your own doctor, who is sunning herself in St. Martin with her family) but that can wait until after the Holidays. I feel fine. I’ve lost weight and some of my appetite but I can handle that. My jeans never looked better on me.

It is time to look ahead. I want to laugh, appreciate my family that is here nestled under our roof. It’s great to have the kids back home for college break, I love the noise and liveliness that they bring. It’s time for all of us to look forward to 2013 which I sincerely hope, will be brighter than 2012.

Life 101


PEACE! (Photo credit: Snapies ~ hiatus!)

Norman Rockwell Mosaic  "The Golden Rule&...

In my fantasy career, I’ve always wanted to teach a class, much like Jerry Seinfeld’s old show, a class about nothing yet everything. It would start with young children, kindergarten or nursery school age so they learn, at an early age, what is right and what is wrong. Maybe there would be a corresponding class for parents as well. It would be a class about life, a place where kids could ask any questions they had; it would be a safe place, teaching children about valuing differences, good vs bad behavior, being kind to one another, volunteering and diversity. That’s the agenda. If you start talking about love and different families early on maybe there wouldn’t be such horrible numbers of teen suicide and bullying. You also need to talk about all kind of different people, that each person is equal and should be treated with kindness and respect.

I expect naysayers and scoffing but the truth of the matter is, that life as we know it, is not going very well at all right now and hasn’t been for a long time.  We can’t say it won’t work if we don’t try it. Teach them that children and parents are all different so respect them equally and that families come in different varieties, they are families just like your own. Love is love. Our goal is that no one will know the word “bullying” anymore.

Growing up in the 50’s and 60’s we were pretty much sheltered from the “real world.” I remember having drills where we would hide under our desks because of the Cuban Missile Crisis but no one ever explained it to us. The world has changed, technology has changed, violent killing games are readily available for kids to play, violence on television, it’s everywhere.The world we live in now is a scary place: devastating losses, natural disasters, friends and loved ones dying of cancer and heart disease and many other things, people with psychiatric disorders that go untreated. We saw that on Friday with the mass murder of children and adults in Newtown, Connectict’s Elementary School.  I used to try to shove the thoughts away and put them on the back burner. We, as a nation, can no longer put these issues on the back burner. Things need to change NOW.

I wrote this article months ago but never published it. After Friday’s shooting in Newtown, Ct. of little children, babies really, and staff, I’m even more convinced that a program of this kind needs to be started as early in a child’s life as possible. There will always be children who have special needs or need psychiatric help, there is nothing wrong with that. However, these children need to be diagnosed and treated and cared for responsibly. I don’t respect the press when they declare the shooter had Asperger’s to explain the motivation.That is NOT okay and isn’t true at all. I think they are terribly WRONG and irresponsible. Do we need stricter gun laws? Yes. We also need, more and better mental health facilities that people can go to get the help they need. There is no shame, there shouldn’t be.

Parents, teachers and therapists need to be involved in the care of your child. Everyone should work together to give your child the best help available. I know it takes time and I know it takes money but this is not something we can “think about.” This should start right now. For the students: if you have problems, please involve your parents or the school counselors and get the help you need as soon as you can. If the therapist is a wrong match for you, find one that you like. It’s important. Talk about your problems; we will listen.We will be your support system. We will be there. We DON’T want to let you down but you need to communicate with us so we can help you. Please try and know that we will too.

Haiku Heights-Wish



candles (Photo credit: rogerglenn)

Trembling hands, shooting

Children cowering, crying

I pray for time, peace.


Life, untangling

taut, rope fraying, neon bright

Seen by only one.


I bounce in freedom

Gold coins fall into my hands

Independent me.


Young lovers twisted

shiny, sparkling, delighted

Old age settles in.

Growing Old Together

Growing Old Together (Photo credit: ∞ SaraiRachel ∞)


Sparkling green eyes flirt

my head tossed back with laughter

Looking back in time.

Family Matters

daughter & dad

daughter & dad (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When my neighbor, Lisa, a young woman with two children, told her father, on the phone, that she didn’t WANT him to pick her up for her CAT scan, I felt an unexpected lump in my throat. My father would have done the same thing. Oh G-d, how I miss that. After a few minutes Lisa  decided to let him pick her up and I was glad, “let him do this for you, it will make him happy” I said.  I quickly entered my house with tears stinging my eyes.

I expect the holiday season as a frame for us to mourn family members and friends who have died.  I was not prepared for this. This was unexpected and it hit me harder because I didn’t see it coming. Isn’t that always the case? I prepare myself for the holidays from November through January but it’s always what you don’t expect to happen that throws you off-balance and hurts the most.

When my father was alive and healthy, years ago, nothing would have stopped him from helping his two daughters, at any time, day or night.  Lisa’s situation brought those old memories back, piercing my heart, draining it. I remembered the time I was terrified of the sounds of the mice running in my walls and a couple that ran over my toes in my studio apartment and he picked me up to “take me home.” Or the one time in college when I had no idea about money and bounced a check (I did what?) and he resolved it and explained it to me. My dad made everything better; he was always on my side. I pray I said “Thank you” I pray I said, “I love you Dad.” I hope I did.

My father died on New Year’s Eve, ten year’s ago, my whole family is aware of that date.  I was not at all prepared for the random comment with my neighbor and it struck me so deeply. How lucky she was to be so young, to have young kids and young parents. I was looking back in time; this was me twenty years ago, this was me before we moved to New York, with two healthy parents and two young children.

You have no idea how fast time flies by. I didn’t know either. It flashes by so unexpectedly, the toddler whose hand you were holding to cross the street is in his second year of college; the baby girl you longed for after him is in her first year of college, far away. Two children, two completely different personalities; the mystery of motherhood finally solved for me.

“What did you do to make my sister and me so different?” I would ask my mother over and over again. It didn’t make sense. The same parents, the same setting, the same upbringing, what happened? We were so different, I needed to know. My mother would laugh and say “Nothing” and I didn’t believe her; I felt like she was holding out on a secret. That was, until I had two children, 21 months apart, completely different from one another and I knew, my mom had been right all along. We did nothing differently, they came out of the womb their own person. What they did have in common were that both were separate, perfect, miracles and yes, (hear that kids?) we love them exactly the same.

Mellow Yellow Monday

Autumn Colors Eternal Infinity Scarf Orange Ye...

Autumn Colors Eternal Infinity Scarf Orange Yellow Brown (Photo credit: smittenkittenorig)

We all know I hate WINTER, so to ease the pain I have surrounded

myself in inexpensive scarves. My focal point in this one, is, of course,

YELLOW. I am trying to think of Winter as the precursor to Spring…

Remind me of that if/when I start complaining!

Happy Mellow Yellow Week to all of you.

Haiku Heights-Pain

A Pain That I'm Used To

A Pain That I’m Used To (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A knife through my hand

crimson blood pouring out fast

A heart, numb, frozen.


No contact, no love

Babies without touch, react

Doubt, afraid, for life.


Your breath near mine, close

the beat of our hearts, different

Tears tell our story.


Brittle bones, swollen

raw, excruciating pain

A Fibro Flare Up.

Sadness 90/365

Sadness 90/365 (Photo credit: SashaW)


Alone, we will be

No guarantee in life, death

Be at peace with One.

Write Raw #6 (No Editing Allowed)

“Love is a piano dropped from a fourth story window, and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” – Ani DiFranco

I was rushing, as always, on the sidewalk of the Village, where I live, scooting under the fire escape when I realized something big was about to happen. I just didn’t know what it would be. Would someone die? Would my sister have her baby? Would Gramps have  a heart attack? The flush ran up my body and stayed there, even the wind that blew couldn’t erase the warm feeling inside me yet I couldn’t define it. I had just turned 26 a couple of days ago and my friends had given me a sweet, little party. They were all there and they had invited my boyfrieind, Matt and a few of his friends. Matt seemed off that night, I had no idea why. When I asked hilm, he just said ” he was tired.” He’s been real tired these last few weeks. I kinda want to go up to him , look at his green hazel eyes and shake him by the shoulders and just yell “what’s the matter with you” but I don

t. I think I’m scared to so I just leave it be. Part of me doesn’t want to know and as long as he hasn’t said anything definite, we’re still ok. I think.But what the hell do I know? I have no idea how to deal with his? He’s moody, he’s sometimes distant but arent’ people like that all the time? okay let me be more specific, aren’t men like that at some point? No one is perfect, I’m not for sure, but is it that glaring a flaw that we would break up? That seemed ridiculous. We’ve been together for four years. We LIVE together. I was probably over-worrying which is an annouying habit I have. I need to stop doing this.

I get to the apartment and Matt is there and he is in a cheerful mood and we hug and all of a sudden I’ve forgotten my former worries because he gave me a sweet, quick kiss on my lips and hugged me for a moment.We talked about where we should have dinner which always took so much time given that we were in a mecca of restaurants, we could have anything we wanted, all the time. We were spoiled we knew but that’s what lving in the Village was all about. It was about youth, and exploration and growing up after college and fun. We had fun in the village after our drone jobs in mid-town where I was basically a secretary )ok now they call us “Personal assistants” and Matt was an “Engineering Assistant/aide.” We both made very little money but we lived in a studio that had one futon that we covered with old Indian fabric, a small kitchen (tiny) that had 4 plates, a few pink-tinted glasses and some silverware we stole from NYU. QWe had a couple of plants that were barely alive and a cat named Oliver. The cat was his idea, not mine. I wanted a dog but he said they were too much responsibility since we were not home during the day. I guess he ‘s right but we culd have traded turnls going home at lunch and walking the dog. Matt was adamant and when he is like that I knew there were no negotaitions that would go on. Matt had a stubborn streak so I figured once we got married and bought a house, then I could have my dog, mayve two of them. When I mentioned this he laughed and nodded so I figured I would just delay my dream for the right time.And I was ok with that. Truly.

We decide to go out for Thai food, the one thing we can agree on effortlessly so that was nice; there was a small restaurant about four blocks from our apartment. Insided the restaurant, Matt s tarted getting gloomy again, not cheerful like he was at the apartment or particularly loving but totally different, quiet, moody and there was tension in the air. I knew this time I couldn’t avoid talking about it so after two glasses of beer I brought it up. “What’s going on Matthew?” I asked. “Just what the hell is going on ?” I need to know, I feel it but I don’t know what it is. He started to sit upp straight , he sighed and tried to take my hand but something about that all of a sudden felt creepy, I took my hand away. “I need to talk to you he said, his voice barely above a whisper.” My skin just froze, and I swear the blood that was flowing in my body myst have drained and left me for a puddle on the granite floors.

I felt afraid, and I felt confused. I literallly had no idea what he was about to say. He started talking, talking about things that happened 2 years ago when we were still dating and in school; like the time we went bowling and I won and he said I was showing off but I really wasn’t, I was just happy I won and besides it’s just a stupid game. “Are u kidding me, I asked?” He was not. He started telling me that he thought we needed to see other people that our relationship was getting too close to fast, that he wasn’t ready to make a commitment. “WHAT?” I screamed, “after all this time, “now you don’t want to be in a committed relationship” you wanted to be together forever, that’s what you said a few weeks ago when we talked about marriage and having a house, and the dogs I could have.,

He mumbled something about this being the “wrong time” and then I stopped and felt listless and I looked deeply into his blue eyes. There was something there that she hadn’t noticed before, she gasped and then she knew. He was lying about something, an she called him on it and with a heaving sigh that seemed to last for hours he admitted that he just wasn’t in love with her anymore. He had loved her once but it had been over for him for a long time and that he needed to leave, in fact he would leave that verysame evening. She couldn’t change it, she was stunned, in shock, she had had no idea, no clues. “It just wasn’t their time,”he muttered under his breath, as he stood up to pack his things to leave. They both stood up, her in shock, heimpervious to her pain, and walked out of the restaurant, towards their apartment walking, under the firescape, to get home.