So there is an extremely sad picture making the rounds on the internet of a man that tried to swim across the river with his child, only to end up face down in the water with his child face down, held under his shirt. That bothers me so much to see something so sad, but…

The thing that really bothers me is the comments on social media placing blame on the father, saying things such as, “if they had tried to do this legally” or “how sad but it’s the fathers fault” or a number of incredibly heartless and horrible things in trying to justify the “but” following condolences! We won’t even get into the politics of hate from these folks but blaming the father for making the ultimate sacrifice for his family is subhuman!

I wrote a poem about a little girl in October 21, 2015. She had been shot in heavy traffic due to an altercation between her father and the shooter. It was an overcast day with rain drizzle , you know, the kind that makes you sit back with a cup of tea or coffee in the afternoon or a beer to wonder about life. Ennui is the perfect word for the day, somber, reflective…melancholy.

It turned out that the father had beef with the shooter and they began a back and forth in traffic and I forget details but I believe the father wouldn’t let the other guy pass, even though there were 4 or 5 lanes, though admittedly heavy traffic. The guy trying to pass got frustrated, pulled a gun and shot into the cab. Unfortunately, he missed the driver but not the little girl in the back seat. The father didn’t know until his son told him that his sister was bleeding. You know what happened to her, of course..she passed.

Now, to tie this together, the father making a sacrifice to bring her daughter to a better place, to a land of opportunity is blamed for her death; the man who instigated the altercation that resulted in his daughter’s death ( she was 5 yrs old, btw, if that makes a difference to you) was treated with kid gloves and condolences poured in..not withstanding the fact he was a HUGE reason the poor little girl was dead!

So I ask you, what is the difference in how people reacted here. Was one man less human than the other because he was an illegal? Who deserved more in respect to their situation? One man was trying to make a better life for his child, the other was playing chicken in heavy traffic with an gun toting driver…

Either way, two baby girls are gone but only one gets true sympathy. What an unjust America we have become! And I dedicate this poem to both:

The sky is crying..
Tears bleed from darkened clouds..
Earth moans, groans..
In quiet despair..
Pavement cracks in pain..
One sad choice..
One small thought..
One mad bullet..
One small life..
One small taste of beauty..
Spark snuffed…Gone!
Now we weep!
The world cries with you..
Gather memories
For a small pine box..
Only the good die young!
Hush little baby,
Don’t you cry..

Can we put our hatred away for a moment?

The Netherdiggle

Picture a pensive piece of pomposity riding ‘pon a netherdiggle, all 6 skinny legs so reminiscent of bent clothes hangers in motion…bent feet stuck into shoes as if by, very red shoes, underneath the alien rider, the ‘diggle is a round fat hot dog looking black body with a huge underbite chomping a red leader rope and a almost florescent green, purple mottled beetle hard top! Strange upon strange..

Funny looking fella stands atop (mr pomposity, hisself), tall and straight on the netherdiggle holding on to the red lariat mouthpiece, but we’ll get to him soon enough. Forget the 3 little imps floating in front of him like little toothless grinning, floating pacmen ghosts with black, beady vacuous purple, one red, one almost florescent green (again)..floating along in their little bright yellow raincoats..instaed, look at the snow-white trees frozen in picturesque melted icecream shapes almost seeming to flow into lil puddles of whiteness if you just stare long enough!

Then gander slack-jawed at the houses perched atop some trees but not normal dwellings of corners and inverted v shaped roofs, but ice cream cones with delicious sprinkles all on the vanilla roofs???

Then there’s the woggle half as big as the netherdiggle and carrying the fellas butler who was twice the size of the boss fella. Enough for now though..let me leave you with this..

Be there a book of rules,
How to walk,
How to talk,
Where kids go to schools!
Is a place
Where dreams go, and
Die slow.
They flee, leave without trace!
We are lost, lose imagination,
Once mighty,
But here, is no room; only grownup frustration!
There is, Over the Rainbow,
Where wizards and warriors,
Little Tom Sawyers,
Where big people no longer go!
Lives a rabbit named Harvey,
A smart martian alien,
Dinosaurs sailin’,
Take me there on a boat made of gnarly!
Is a land of adventure,
Places we forget,
To our everlasting regret,
Never make but a token overture!
Is a land full of spiders,
Who sit and weave,
Then by your leave,
Spin tales to tell as you sit down beside her.
Somewhere…This is where dreams they are made,
Adults forget rules,
Kids forget schools,
Dreams impossible no longer fade!


“A simple act of caring creates an endless ripple.”

I read that in a FB post today. Made a whole hell of a lot of sense. I believe the ripple is benign, though. It is neither good nor bad but up to the individual that sends it. It is then up to the individual that receives it to determine if they want it..good or bad!

For example:

In the FB post this came from a man did something good for a child in giving her a gift she wanted but grandma couldn’t afford it and said perhaps next time. A young man notices and purchases the gift ( a delicious cake) and gives it to the child. The grandmother refuses at first, but the young man tells her that someone did him a kindness years ago when he was a child and he was only returning the favor to the universe. The child takes the cake which turns out to be for her grandfather for his BD who the story tells also happens to be the man that did the other a favor when he was a boy. She received it in the spirit it was given return for the spirit in which her grandfather gave it away as well.

In a second example:

I wrote a comment on FB regarding some subject forgotten already. A young lady jumped on top of my comment to correct me on a word which to me was stupid as it really had nothing to do with the point of the comment. I answered in the same rude manner I felt she had displayed and we went back and forth for a bit. Regardless, the point is..I have done that to others as well. Corrected their grammar to display their ignorance and my superiority. Again, receiving what I had given out, returned to me in the same manner.

So it’s all ripples, you see. They interconnect in our ocean of life and sometimes they meet head on and other times they blend harmoniously. Certainly in the vein in which they were given or received. Perhaps if I had received the woman’s critique graciously,we would not have had a back and forth or perhaps a much different conversation. Peace

In the heat of a moment,
Do you ever wonder?
Just where did it start?
How did it start?
A conversation..that went south..
Why south? Do not plans go up in smoke?
Is that not north?
We live in a world of hidden and awkward,
Where the surface upon which we step..
Is Ice!
One slip north or south,
East or west…
And your world lays round in a million shards of madness!
Balance is a precarious dance..
Of decisions right and wrong…
So small..most times so insignificant they shouldn’t matter,
And still,
A wee butterfly wings its way..
Leaves turmoil in the flutter of its wake.
So shall we say it started there?
How else shall we explain the end at the bottom of the hill?
Does the End have…
a Beginning?
One slip,
One day,
One fall..
and it’s all over.
In the heat of a moment!

Life is Risk..

I woke up Sunday in a mood..not a good mood, in case you wanna ask. Sometimes you have those days when shit just bothers you and someone sneezing offends you, right?

What you don’t realize is that you are so focused on your own little minute problems not to realize things aren’t as bad as they could be.

I was reminded of that when 3 different ambulances showed up at our apartment complex at the same time and all looking for different people. Of course, being my neighbors, I knew at least a couple of the folks they were looking for. There was one in particular they came looking for that so happened to be the same age as I and I have been constantly amazed at how different in life we seem to be.

Although we are of the same age, he looks so much older than I. He has a problem with alcohol, to the point that if he stops drinking it will kill him. I gave drinking up over 20+ years ago cuz I didn’t know how to stop. He smokes..suffice to say we look quite different in age but the point of this is that his sister thinks he is about to die and was in a lot of pain, thus the ambulance.

The other point in this sad little tale being that my mood was of little consequence to someone’s well being and my perspective changed quite a bit after that little reminder of life’s risk. Make the best of each day, no matter what comes!

from 12-11-15
……….MY WILL……..
When I leave this world,
I leave my soul,
Bequeath to Earth,
A life untold.
Tis not in bitter disregard,
Nor out of hate..less, in disdain.
Forget the parts I’ve lived in vain..
Have you ever woken up to a sunny day?
When all is right,
Without a single need to pray?
Have you ever camped?
Walked the forest air,
Breathed it in?
Sighed away your every care!
Did you ever see a child’s gift of wondrous smile?
Ever raked up all the leaves,
Then jumped upon that big ol’ pile?
Did you ever hear the sunset sing a lullaby?
Orange-reddish, lyrics written
By the clouds goodbye?
Ever have you walked,
Seen a jump rope as you talked,
Jumped into its twirling middle,
While in your heart there played a fiddle?
Do you remember all your firsts?
School, friend, love, and skirts?
Life never sates your thirsts,
One life is not enough,
Yet, one is all we’ve ever seen.
One is all its ever been.
Remind oneself to..
Taste, smell, play, love..
Dance a foolish dance,
Smile in vain..why need a reason?
Thus when upon me falls the season,
When I finally, physically leave this world,
My wings in joy,
Will be unfurled!


The poet drags his baggage in,
All his stories, all
His dreams,
And from the dark of night his screams!
Let’s you pick, peruse..
What you like..what
You choose!
The rest is lost,
The rest..refuse. Waste
He keeps, he’ll cherish..
Like the old button off a tattered shirt belonged to his loveliest
For her visits there!
His baggage,
His memories,
Thoughts, his
Little pennies from heaven,
And burdens,
For no matter where he’s been,
The poet drags his baggage in..

IF you’re not in the hospital or 6 feet’re doing good!


This is one of my favorite pics. It’s of a tree at night in the courtyard of my old school. I love trees. They are a symbol of endurance and life and every leaf reminds me of moments that come and go. Of the sturdiness of life. Of beauty.

I watch the tree lose its leaves every year, this one and the ones on the river and am always amazed at how they keep coming back..even after fires have ravaged the bosque around the river. Every leaf that passed is another moment, another life, another story.

This is my life and this is my story. The limbs represent every turn the stories will take and the leaves the time it takes, and the wondrous moments involved in unraveling this quiet life. I will also share my poems with you and ask for your opinion and feedback, no matter good or bad: good feeds the soul, bad feeds the drive.

So for today, let me leave you with this old poem about a tree and I, our connection that I felt, and feel. The gnarled bark I feel in my bones and taste in the joy of reincarnation of life:

I am old.
Upon a mountaintop I roam.
There is molasses in my soul.
And the trees
Accompany me,
In this,
My journey!
Molasses flows,
Softly, sweetly, slowly..
A taste of honey,
With a slight of bitter,
There’s an ache stays with me.
It sits,
The tree stands tall,
Waiting upon the leaf to fall,
Another story for the sages.
I set frond between the pages,
Bringing story to life,
A word, or two,
Like floating blades from emerald night,
Waft down,
Land on your lips,
A gifted kiss out of heavens bliss.
I pen these words,
They’re for you my friends,
Take home and read,
That I not end.
Swirl each word about your tongue,
Memorize, save, pass to the young,

I welcome your thoughts. Was I able to capture at least a litt;e of the awe of trees?

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