Drug Company Rag

By Charles Lawrence

 

Ya gotta love drug companies. They sell you something to cure your athlete's foot which gives you diarrhea. Then, they sell you something to cure your diarrhea, but gives you dandruff. Then, they sell you something to cure your dandruff, but makes you depressed. Then, they sell you something that cures your depression, but gives you athlete's foot, which makes you depressed again.

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Valentine

   VALENTINE

by Tish Hand

     I designed this valentine,
         with my own two hands, you see,
     With hearts and lace all glued in place,
         to seal your love to me.
     There is not another like this
         from sea to shining sea,
     So, with this heart, we n'er will part
         through all eternity.
     Second verse is worse than the first.
     But don't you wink or even think,
         you can get my love for free,
     For it will cost what you thought you lost,
         your love and liberty.
     So when you find this valentine,
         just remember I hold the key,
     To give you back the things you lack,
         sex and sympathy.
                         

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A Valentine Rose

A Valentine Rose

By Tish Hand

You are my rose, but don't prick me with your thorn.
You are my honeybee, but don't puncture me with your sting.
You are my anchor, but don't hoist up and sail away.
You are my envelope of love, but don't seal, stamp, and send
yourself to another.
Be my rose so I can appreciate your beauty and remove your
prickly thorn.
Be my honeybee so I can suckle your sweet nectar to
neutralize the poison of your sting.
Be my anchor to give me the security I seek.
And envelop me in your love to seal yourself to me.
 

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Haikus

Haikus

By

 Ann Marie Hill Brixey

Bright comet shooting

Flash by to infinity

Wish upon a star.

~~~~~

                                                                          Beaches

Tide rippled beaches,

White-sailed ships on tropic seas,

Surely paradise.

~~~~~

Pink-fringed Jellyfish

Translucent medallions

Laying on the sand

~~~~~

                                                                            Seasons

Pungent wispy smoke,

from decaying leaves piled deep,

Autumn’s smells and  sights..

~~~~~

Bright ribbons of light

Dancing waves across the sky

Endless polar night

~~~~~

Soft, snowy mantled

Heralding winters harshness

Sweet spring will follow.

~~~~~

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Dead Tooth

By Charles Lawrence

Being 8 years old
You tend to fall in love
On the Playground
Very easily
Nikki was my first love
Nikki had a dead front tooth
And it fascinated me
I stared at Nikki's dead front tooth
Wondering why her parents didn't get it fixed.
Did they not have enough money?
When she smiled, she smiled wide
The rest of her teeth were bright white
Except for her one dead front tooth
I wanted to kiss her
Gently on the cheek
But I didn't want to get too close
To her dead front tooth
I saw Nikki years later
Her dead tooth finally fixed
I told her a joke
And she smiled
Her dead front tooth
Gone
I was happy for Nikki
To be rid of that dead front tooth
Still I wished I'd kissed her
That day on the playground
Maybe we would be together today
Were it not for her
Dead front tooth

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Encounter in the Mist

By

Ann Marie Hill Brixey

“If we were to meet a dragon or two, would it surprise you?” My companion asked.

“Hmm, Where did that come from?” I asked, puzzled.

“Surely you know where we are?”

I did not bother to respond; Of course I knew where we were.

“Well we are in Oxford,” the emphasis was on the word ‘are.’  “You surely must remember the story of Lludd and the Three Plagues of Briton.

I searched my memory; of course, the second of the Three Plagues was the fighting dragons. According to the story, Lludd, on the advice of his brother Llefelys set a trap to capture them, in the very centre of the island of Briton.

“Oh yes, the two dragons,” I replied, “who, after taking the form of pigs, (every one knows that dragons are able to transform themselves) drank themselves silly from a vat of mead then fell into a deep sleep. Legend has it, once captured they were taken to North Wales to be entombed safely in Snowdonia.”

I was glad I had recently re-read the Mabinogion, the Legends of Wales, I hoped that my erudite companion would be suitably impressed at my knowledge of the old tales, but the only response I got was “Hrrmph”

After several more days of traveling around the countryside, we finally arrived in North Wales,

“Do you know where we are?” asked my friend,

Oh boy, here we go again,  “Yes, Beddgelert, and near Dinas Emrys, where it is said, Lludd entombed the two dragons, and they have never been seen again. I said smugly, my companion just nodded.

 On this warm, early spring morning, white clouds lazily capped the tops of the surrounding mountains. The sun, a spinning orb in the azure sky, lit the carpet of wildflowers that cloaked the riverbank. From some distant hillside came the bleating of sheep. A Minibus packed with sightseers, slowed momentarily, giving way to hikers. Then, anxious to get to the attractions that Snowdon had to offer, roared furiously on its way.

Being eager to explore these splendid surroundings, we parked the car, and walked along the river path.  By the time we reached the footbridge leading to the disused railroad bed, I had pushed thoughts of dragons and beasties aside. My companion too seemingly had forgotten the old tales. We ambled on, talking of this and that. Then, on finding a comfortable spot, we sat to enjoy the sights and sounds around us.

From a nearby falls, water splashing down on the rock face and ledges sang a merry counterpoint to the sweet song of birds, anxiously trying to attract a mate. The river, swollen by the early spring thaw and recent heavy rains, tumbled over its rocky bed. Decaying leaves and twigs were being swept furiously downstream to the waiting sea.

“Merlin might well have quenched his thirst from this river,” I observed. Once again thoughts of the old legends had nudged their way to the forefront.

           

“If he existed at all, he most likely would have watered his horses in it, and taken sweeter, colder water from one of the many waterfalls for himself,” my friend replied.

We continued in this vein for some time, before realizing that the morning’s warmth had gone, it had become quite cool and damp. A mist had suddenly rolled in, but my companion and I seemed reluctant to leave this delightful spot.  Traffic sounds now were muffled, the voices of other walkers, grew fainter, till the world became strangely still and silent. 

A lone walker was coming down from the hills. As he neared, we could see that the green jacket and trousers he wore had a slight sheen, as though he had been caught in heavy drizzle or the spray from one of the falls.  Long, unkempt hair, beard, and tattered appearance gave the impression that he was a tramp. My companion and I looked at each other.

“Maybe we should leave,” I whispered, but still we seemed unwilling or unable to move.

 “Bore da,” was his greeting as he neared. I responded in kind, my companion in English.

He stopped, “Do you know where you are?” he asked.

“Oh yes, close to…” I began.

But before I could continue, he interrupted and pointed, “yonder is a cave, mostly covered by brambles now, where since the world began, lives a dragon. He sighed. “ This poor beast has not emerged from it for centuries, not since the time his foot was severed.”

My companion whispered somewhat contemptuously, “ Yes we have read the tale too.” But I sat spellbound, as he continued.

 “One fine spring day, many years ago a beautiful young woman, with hair the color of flax, and eyes as blue and deep as the lake made her way towards the cave where she was to meet her admirer. Tired from carrying a heavy basket and small pail, she looked about for somewhere to sit till he arrived. Nearing the entrance she stood for several minutes peering in, unsure if she should enter into the inky darkness. She had heard the old stories of the fearsome creature that once lived there, but gave little credence to them.  Looking around, she spotted a large flat rock; where she placed her basket.”

As his melodious voice wove the story, it was easy to understand how the Bards of old, could cast a spell on listeners, making even the most incredulous story believable. Closing my eyes I could almost see the young woman as she stood there waiting, and wondering if they would dare to venture into the cave.

“Taking her pail, she went to the falls just there,” he pointed  “and filled it with sweet, icy water. When she returned, her basket had gone. Thinking her lover had arrived, she cautiously stepped into the murky shadows, seeing her basket perched on a rock she called out,  “You are here already.” 

                                                         

Suddenly, she heard a weak voice, say “thank you.” 

Looking around, she could see the cave was littered with large boulders. When one moved, she started to walk quickly back to the entrance.

“Please don’t go,” a feeble voice said, “nothing will hurt you.

            Turning, she warily came further in. To her astonishment she discovered that the thing she thought a large rock, looked exactly like a dragon. It let out a long sigh, and the cave was bathed in a misty red glow. The lass gasped in horror as she could clearly see a suppurating stump where a front foot should have been. The beast tried to move forward, moaning in agony, the sound reverberated like thunder.

She was filled with pity for this suffering creature, all fear left her; taking a cloth from her basket, she dipped it into the icy water. Gently applying the cool compress to the wound, it seemed to give the creature some ease.

As she continued tending the injury, he told her how it had come about.

After successfully hunting his prey, he was about to fly away, when he felt a searing pain. It had taken but one slash from the massive sword wielded by an old man. Writhing in agony, he dropped his victim to the ground, and found his talon had dropped with it.

Trees burned like straw as the fire-breathing beast, blinded by pain, returned to the safety of his den, everything in the dragon’s path was burned. For many weeks, the surrounding hills and valleys reverberated with the screeches of pain and rage that had rent the air. The cave was his refuge, there he remained, never again venturing out; eating only what he was able to find scurrying around on the ground, he became a shadow of his former self, the stump never fully healing. Over the centuries, the trees have re-grown, and brambles cover the mouth of the cave, the dragon was forgotten.

The maiden listened with tears in her eyes, and sorrow in her heart for this poor, sad creature. She promised that she would return each day with food and salves, to help him heal.

“And so she has, “ he said with a long sigh.

My long-suffering companion said scornfully  “Dragon tales…” then taking my arm   “come on, we must be on our way.”

I looked up, ready to thank the stranger for his story, but he was walking away, back toward the hills.  Before disappearing into the shadow of the trees, he lifted his arm above his head to wave. Hurriedly I stood, blinking rapidly, in the blinding sunlight. The mist had disappeared as quickly as it had come.

We walked back in silence, lost in our own thoughts. As we neared the bridge, we passed a young woman, carrying a basket. In the bright sunshine, her hair looked like spun gold she nodded a greeting at us and continued on her way along the track.

Dragons can transform themselves, and speak, the thought suddenly flashed across my mind. I stopped suddenly, “when the man waved, he appeared to have no hand.” I said to no one in particular.

I looked at my companion, who pragmatically shrugged, we continued walking back to our car…

The story of Lludd and Llefelys is taken in part  from the Mabinogion. Translated to English byLady Charlotte E. Guest.

The disused railroad bed now forms part of the line of the Welsh Highland Railway which runs from Caernarfon to Porthmadog.

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The Balloon Ride

                                                                                 By                                                           

Ann Marie Hill-Brixey

A faint luminous glow is beginning to appear. Only the gold edged clouds above the outline of the distant hills, heralds the dawn. There the sky is pale, almost translucent. In the western sky, the moon, a silver sliver, and the multitudinous stars still adorn the dark purple sky.

Six vehicles bouncing along the deeply rutted track; transport the still sleepy passengers. Arriving at the site, we are fully awake, feeling somewhat battered, but excited and eager for the adventure ahead.

At our destination, we find people milling around, it looks like chaos, but we quickly realize each person is playing a well, orchestrated role.  On the ground are several large, brightly colored fabric packs, with thick, long tails spread on heavy blue tarp. Close by are the large wicker baskets, which will carry the passengers and the pilot.  After a large fan partially inflates one of the tails, a flame is directed into the gaping maw.  Within moments, the large expanse of colored fabric morphs into a balloon. All over the site more and more balloons appear.

“It is time,” our pilot calls to us.

Ground crew members help as we, cameras in hand, clamber into the basket. Soon, our balloon, of gaily-colored chevrons, rises gently into the air. One by one, others follow. Bright, rainbow colored balloons fill the sky, these enormous orbs render the moon and stars obsolete.

Ascending quietly, we float gently above the plain. The wraith-like mist swaths the earth below in a veil like spun silver. The sun rises fully into the fuchsia sky, and the entire landscape is awash with gold. The moment is surreal, I feel exhilarated. Soon the sky glows bright orange, promising another searing day. We have left the noise and bustle of the launching site behind. Silently, peacefully, these giant, gaily colored orbs glide over the wild African plains.

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Wales

Ann Marie Hill-Brixey

Wales

Water icy cold,

Tumbling down the craggy stones,

Sparkling crystal rill.

Soft snowy mantles,

Cover frost blackened bracken,

Protect until spring.

High rugged mountains,

Cloud covered jagged ridges,

Wales splendid beauty.

Hillside farms below,

Lush carpeted fields of green,

Like a crazy quilt.

Gray stoned battlements,

Indomitable spirits,

Wales proud heritage.

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American Authors--Mark Twain

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Just Touch Me

Just Touch Me

By

Yvonne Mastny

Crazy phrases…

Pinch to zoom

Flick and swipe

Tap, drag, and hold

Scroll, rotate, and drag

Tap, flick, and pinch

A new language of gestures

iPad

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Tempted by Tantalizing Technology

Tempted by Tantalizing Technology

By

Yvonne Mastny

It all started with an old, antiquated cell phone, one that I didn’t use much, just for traveling, but I’d begun to feel a bit embarrassed when using it with friends or when putting the phone & laptop into bins as I went through security in airports. That phone spent most of its life either plugged in on my kitchen counter or dead because I’d forgotten to plug it in – funny little prongs that bent and didn’t always connect up correctly.  I was never certain how to use some features like call waiting or conference calls.   Because my contract was up, I began to evaluate new phones thinking a low cost phone with phone card minutes would be the way to go.   Of course my children all have the latest Androids, Blackberries, and iPhones and on a recent visit I checked out the iPhone.  It seemed a bit intimidating – like a magic black hat that anything could pop out of, expensive…a luxury item I thought; certainly something I didn’t “need” at 71 and retired.

By the time I was ready to make a decision I was mired in different phone plan comparisons.  At that point I thought, what the hell, you only live once, so I zipped out to an A T & T store and purchased the iPhone 4, a sleek, slim, shiny, black, futuristic, index card-sized unit that fits nicely in one’s hand and is easily operated by just 5 buttons; 4 on the outer rim and a single “home” button on the front.  Within a day I was intrigued and transformed into an Apple believer.  I quickly learned to flick, pinch, tap, and swish and began transferring my “To Do” list, my calendar, and my contacts into it.  Amazingly, while I’m traveling, it knows where I am (Maps), what time it is in Chicago, New York, and London (time), and the weather day by day for the week here, there, and at home (weather). It encounters wi-fi and then remembers the access when you return to that location.  It has a camera & video that are easy to operate.  I can watch stock reports, look up words in a dictionary or thesaurus, read my mail, and surf the web.  I can text, telephone, read a book, or play a multitude of games wherever I am. Face Time allows you to see the person you’re speaking to on the telephone if they also have an iPhone.  Ahhh, I thought I was in high tech heaven and that phone was charged nightly on my night stand, with me all day, and being used constantly.  I felt there was no need for anything else besides my laptop….then….the iPad 2 came into my life and lo, and behold, all the data  and apps on the iPhone were instantly available and updated (synced) on the iPad. It’s lightweight and stays charged all day.  

There are many apps, i.e. applications, that come with the iPad or are free, or that can be purchased for a low price.  “iBooks” are amazingly easy to read and can be downloaded free from your public library or purchased.  “Words with Friends” is a “Scrabble-like” game that can be played with people you know or with random opponents.  “Zite” is your personalized magazine with the topics you’ve selected.  “Star Walk” lets you point your iPad at the sky and it identifies the star. 

   I’ve dropped it twice on hard tile floors and it didn’t scratch or stop working.  The iPhone and iPad are useful, fun, entertaining, and so very easy to use.  It’s really like having the world at your fingertips.       

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Thoughts

Thoughts by Jennie Palmer

I thought about you today.  Nothing unusual or intimate. Just a whisper of a thought.  Not anything uncommon or unordinary.  I really cannot remember what the thought was.  I just remember your name floating ever so suddenly in my mind but keeping me interested in you.  How have you been, what are you doing, do you have thoughts of me swirling to and fro gently in your mind at times?  I am hoping you do.  Not anything unusual or intimate, but, I would like to know.  I will never know.  You will never know.  We will never share our thoughts, or will we?  

I heard that song today.  You know the one...I cannot think of the name of it now.  Its one of those that  forms little crystal drops in the corners of our eyes, not knowing why, until that thought appears out of nowhere....

I thought I saw you today.  It was not you of course, but, my heart pounded ever so heavy as I rushed out to get close enough.  My heart sunk.  It was awakened so quickly, it took me a while to calm it back down.  Things like this, as small as it seems, happens to me all the time. Even though you have not been away that long.  Should I be so aroused by such sightings?  I sometimes wonder if you ever think you see me too.  Wandering hopelessly down the middle of a street.  I do that a lot.  You know the wandering paths I always took?  They are the same.

What paths are you now treading?

I thought I heard your voice today.  I was just  standing in a very long line to return the sweater I had bought for you and you never liked it.  You were so nice to say  that it did not fit and not to bother replacing it.  I now wonder, if you knew something then. You know, like you were going away. I turned ever so slightly around and scanned the faces around me.  Of course it was not you.  I wonder if you ever do that same thing.. You know, thinking you hear me call your name.  I do that you know.  When I am alone and I think I feel your spirit around me...I call out to you.  Do you ever call out to me?

I thought I captured a whiff of your cologne today.  The one you would always wear just for me. Do you know I still wear your favorite perfume.  I only wear it when I am sitting in the dark on the bed. I swear I can sometimes I can sense you standing  behind me and the breath of you smelling my neck. Do you ever do that?

I thought I felt you hold my hand today.  As I was weeping and shivering in that lonely room, I could have sworn you touched me, ever so slight.  I could feel you softly twirl my ring around and graze my arm.  Do you ever think about that.  About touching me?

You told me you would never leave me.

You told me you would always take care of me, and that you would always love me.

Don't you remember?  Did you really think it would be so easy to just go away like you did, without? kissing me goodbye?  Why?  Why did you do this?

Did you just kiss me on the cheek?

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