My Light

It is hard sometimes,

to rise above it –

the fear

the hate

the things we covet

my own light dims

when anger rages –

the news

the trauma

locking kids in cages

No! Not me!

I will not fall victim –

to bullies

or monsters

I will cling to wisdom

no platform bully

nor energy vampire

can harden

or darken

my light which transpires

It is hard sometimes,

to rise above it –

the fear

the hate

the things we covet

but I will rise

on wings of doves

fighting fear

and hate

with nothing but love

Posted in Poetry, This Is Me | Tagged , , , , , | 19 Comments

The Art Of Baking Cookies For Strangers

I have been thinking

about how my mother

would bake cookies for strangers

Always with a smile

vintage cookie cutters

and love as sweet as sugar

“How can we love those we don’t know?”

I’d ask. She would reply,

“Just as we can hate what we don’t understand.”

She would look up from her ball of dough

into a pair of fresh blue eyes

not yet tainted by the world

“Some people don’t appreciate the effort,”

she’d say, “In a factory in a city,

someone made these chocolate chips.”

“Before the flour became a powder,

someone planted the wheat,

tended to the crops.”

“People don’t stop to think

and appreciate the effort.”

“They just bite into the delicacy.”

I have been thinking

about this a lot lately –

the lesson she taught me

Perhaps that is why I enjoy

the little things, so much,

because I appreciate time

Beauty and effort take time

in nature, in craftsmanship,

in ourselves –

Pretty faces fade

skin wrinkles

hair turns gray

But I still have those vintage cookie cutters

my mother’s smile

and her love as sweet as sugar

So today, I will give thanks

to a farmer, appreciate the effort,

and bake cookies for strangers

Posted in Lessons, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | 54 Comments

Wordless Wednesday 79 – Photo A Day, Week 51

Day 351

Fall can stick around as long as it wishes!

Day 352

For the past four years I have attended a concert to celebrate my birthday. Unfortunately, due to Covid, that isn’t possible this year, but thanks to PBS, I was able to watch the S&M2 concert on television!

For those who are unaware Metallica played with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra for the second time!

Day 353

Perfect Spooky Weather!

Day 354

I hope all of you had a faBOOlous Halloween!

Day 355

Another mesmerizing sunset!

Day 356

Waking up in the Tundra of Maryland

Day 357

My tripod broke, so this picture isn’t as clear as I would like it to be, but still, not a bad shot of la luna!

Happy Wednesday, everyone!!

Love & life lessons,


Posted in Photography, Themes | Tagged , , , , , | 7 Comments

One Nation Under God?

“I pledge allegiance to the flag”

right hand over heart

just a child, I am taught to honor

while my country falls a part


I don’t yet understand the meaning of allegiance

yet I am expected to follow, “They’ll do as we tell them.”

and it’s a sad thing, being taught to bite my tongue

because asking for the meaning is seen as rebellion


How can we pratice what we preach

without explaining the meaning?

Taking an oath to serve and protect

when the lives beneath us are screaming?


“One nation under God,” we chant

claiming a land that’s united

but with blood shed and lives lost

I’ve only ever seen a land that’s divided


We dream in colors of red and blue

and avert our eyes from division

but when we sleep with guns next to our Bibles

“One nation under God,” becomes hard to envision

Posted in Lessons, Poetry | Tagged , , , , | 20 Comments


Another landslide of life

has brought us down

standing in icy streams

holding fast to unsteady ground

Time waits for no one

seasons change in the blink of an eye

the reflection shows a little girl

yet it is silver hair and wrinkles I spy

Can we adjust our sails

with the east wind

can the child within us

rise again

Seasons may have changed

and so have we

but love still grows

on our family tree


Can we handle another season

of raging tides

can we balance the beams

on bumpy rides

The last remaining bloodline

of a family that has passed

and with the ticking of the clock

I am holding steadfast

I don’t have the answers

and you don’t want to talk

but I am beside you

let’s have one of our walks

Seasons may have changed

and so have we

but love still grows

on our family tree


My tears have fallen

and I’m sure yours have too

and these icy streams are cold

but I am here with you

Maybe not in person

but we’re never far apart

just look at your reflection

and find me in your heart

We don’t have to speak

we can just watch the sunrise in the park

and when the sun refuses to shine

I will sit with you in the dark

Seasons may have changed

and so have we

but love still grows

on our family tree


Written for my aunt, who is battling cancer. I love you, and I am with you, always. ❤

Posted in Personal, Poetry | Tagged , , , | 16 Comments

The Hitchhiker

The Hitchhiker

The cool autumn breeze whipped through Max’s hair as he placed the duffle bag in the backseat of his Toyota 4-Runner, causing him to shudder. He pulled the checklist out of his back pocket, double-checking to make sure he had everything for the journey ahead. He had no idea how long it would take, and to be completely honest, he was getting tired of starting again, somewhere new. However, the thrill of the chase would always keep him moving forward, and nothing in life was without its pros and cons, he supposed.

After making sure all of the necessary supplies and items were in the glove compartment and console, he took one last look at his apartment before stepping into the vehicle and heading down the road. The sunset was dipping below the Appalachian foothills and he admired the beauty of it, thinking about a girl who used to frequently send him pictures of them.

He decided to head east on route 40. He knew it was more likely to be isolated rather than the interstate. He had a full tank of gas, four joints in the cupholder, and a cooler full of bottled water in the backseat.

He had just driven over the border into Alleghany county when he spotted her; a woman in a black dress, flashing her leg through a high slit.

“Well, that happened quicker than I expected.” He murmured to himself.

He pulled over to the side of the road just past where she had been standing. A smile crossed his face before he came to a complete stop, the excitement was already coursing through his veins.


A lopsided smile crossed Patty’s face as soon as she realized the vehicle was slowing down. She picked up her Hello Kitty backpack and made her way towards the vehicle, her stilettos clapping against the asphalt.

“It’s not everyday one see’s Elvira hitchhiking alongside a deserted road,” Max said, combing a hand through his hair before extending it and introducing himself to Patty.

She smiled as she took his hand and introduced herself to him before replying, “It isn’t everyday one picks up a hitchhiker on Halloween.”


He opened the backdoor, holding out his hand for her to hand him her backpack. 

“Hello Kitty?” He arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Oh, this is going to be fun.” He thought.

He smiled at her as he fiddled with his phone.

She wondered what he was doing, but remained silent.

Elvira by the Oak Ridge Boys flooded the car, and Patty let out a chuckle.

“Where are you headed?”

“Home, I guess.” She replied, sounding unsure.

“Where is home?”

“Oh, right.” she chuckled, causing him to smile. “Baltimore, but I know that’s a bit of a drive.”

“I’m headed there myself, actually.” He lied.

“Oh good, so I’m not putting you out of the way then?”

“Not at all.”

Max and Patty made small talk as they traveled for about an hour and a half before the vehicle started making a clanking noise and Max pulled over for the second time that night.

“I’m just going to check under the hood, see if I can see anything.”

“Help yourself,” he said as he pointed to the joints in the cupholder.

“No, thank you,” Patty smiled.

Once the hood of the vehicle was up and she was out of Max’s sight, she reached for her backpack, pulling out the gun and placing it in the holder on the garter she had on her left leg, which was covered by the part of the dress without the slit. She replaced her heels with Chuck Taylors, just in case she would need to run, and lastly, she applied a fresh coat of lipstick the faded red on her lips. 


As she closed the visor and turned her head towards the passenger window she saw Max staring at her.

“Like what you see?” She asked, arching her eyebrow.

“Mmmm.” He grunted, lifting the machete that was hanging at his side. “I might have to keep part of you as a souvenir.”

Patty screamed.

Max laughed, maniacally. “You should know not to get into cars with strangers, for one of them could be a serial killer.”

Patty dropped the terrified persona, no longer needing to throw him off.

“And you should know not to pick up strangers,” she replied, putting emphasis on “the words “pick up.:

“For one of them could turn out to be a serial killer, as well,” she continued with a sinister smile as she lifted the gun to the glass and pulled the trigger.

Happy Halloween!

Love & life lessons,


Posted in Ficton | Tagged , , | 9 Comments

Wordless Wednesday 78 – Photo A Day, Week 50

Day 344

“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” – John Muir

Day 345

I made it rain blood on Mortal Kombat 11

Day 346

Up with the sun

Day 347

Even the moon plays hide and seek

Day 348

I got dolled up for my Pittsburgh boys. It must have worked because we won!

Day 349

Civic duty completed!

Day 350

Halloween nails!

And a close up

I hope all of you have had a wonderful Wednesday!

Love & life lessons,


Posted in Photography, Themes | Tagged , , , , , , | 13 Comments

Do You Believe In Magic?

How could I not believe in magic

when there are galaxies in your eyes?

When the stardust in your hands

longs for the touch of my thighs?

Don’t you find it strange

how we’re a part of something bigger?

How you know what words to use

to ignite my flame and pull my trigger?

Perhaps the atoms in your lips

once belonged to a shooting star.

So place your light upon my neck

and kiss away my scars.

All that makes up our bodies

were a part of life forgotten

in our breaths, so labored,

in our hearts, so wanton.

Maybe the particles that make up your body

once danced with the particles that make up mine –

billions and billions of years ago,

it’s how my soul recognizes your shine

So come and touch my skin, my darling

the next time you feel small

and I’ll show you, you’re a part of me –

moving as one, we’re a part of it all.

Posted in Love, Poetry | Tagged , , , , | 15 Comments

That Really Burns My Biscuits #8

Ya know what really burns my biscuits?


I am not talking about the cute mushroom guys from Mario.

You know the types, you could be talking about how you were mugged one time while walking the streets of Philadelphia, and a person in the group interrupts with their story of how they got shot, sounding like they’re out here getting shot at all of the time, like they’re 50 Cent.

They do this constantly, and it’s more than just sharing a similar story, because we all do that. You could talk about how you almost died during an operation and they’ll tell you about the time they DID die and had to be revived 3 times.

You talk about how your kid took their first steps and they chime in with how their kid took their first steps two weeks before yours did.

UGH!!!! One-Uppers!

What burns your biscuits?

Love & life lessons,


Posted in Rants, Themes | Tagged , , , , , | 39 Comments

If I Could Go Back In Time

i would travel to fifteen

and tell her

to hold her head high

to not compare herself

to other girls

now or at thirty-five

for we are not the kind of beautiful

that turns heads

or steals breaths

we are the kind of beautiful

that watches sappy movies

and attempts sappy poetry

the kind that cries

watching national geographic

while a baby animal dies

the kind that fills

the room with laughter

and the car with song

the kind that sings

as loud as our lungs

will allow

we are not the kind of beautiful

that brings a man to his knees

or his jaw to the floor

we are the kind of beautiful

whose hearts become shattered

when others are

the kind that gets lost

gazing at stars

and sunsets

the kind of beautiful

that will never abandon anyone

yet understands when we are abandoned

we indulge in reese’s cups

and nachos and horror movies

and genuinely love the little things

we may not turn heads

or steal breaths

or make men weak

but we are smart

and kind

and look great in blue jeans

i would tell her

she is smarter than she knows

and stronger than she looks

and one day she will master

how to write a hook

and her own cupcake recipe

i would tell her

her worth is not defined

by the mirror or the scale

but in her light

that shines from her soul

that she has always carried so well

we are not the kind of beautiful

that turns heads

but beautiful, we are still

Posted in Poetry, This Is Me | Tagged , , , , , , | 22 Comments