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a stained glass rose life cut by my father a time ago in summer

  Cora I felt worried. I wasn't feeling close to Cora. Now, I have changed. She is a strong woman I would love to have met and known. She never forgot her mother. Before her escape to freedom with Caesar, she has a special way of saying goodbye to her friends at Hob. Not with words, but with objects: "a comb, a square of polished silver...the pile of blue stones that Nag called her "Indian rocks." Her farewell. I do worry about that hatchet. When I think of a hatchet, I only think of agonizing cruelty done to oneself or to someone else. If this were a man carrying a hatchet would it seem less frightening? In other words, a woman may carry a basket and child but not a hammer, ax or hatchet. Why? Women are always thought of as emotional, hysterical, quick with their tongues and maybe with their hands too. Perhaps, these stereotypical thoughts make me feel afraid of Cora when she carries that hatchet. Just looked at hatchets. If a tree isn't near by to cut for

I always hate to read about the slave ships that crossed from Africa to different places. one of those places was the United States, etc. The journey for the people had to have been as emotionally painful as Colson Whitehead describes in his book. I never knew the exact location in Africa from which the people were taken at that time. So I quickly latched on to the name of the place 'Ouidah.' Then, I wanted to know more about that particular home of the people who would soon become the property of the people here and elsewhere. I was certainly shocked that the name Ouidah means procession of the serpent. Then, I came across Brazil in my reference reading. Coincidence? I need to ask Mr. Whitehead (smile). I bring up Brazil because most of us have our minds turned toward Rio for the Olympic games. Also, the serpents...did the people who lived in Ouidah think snakes had a magical or godlike power? Why the name Ouidah which means a 'procession of snakes?' It was

I'm spending time with Colson Whitehead. His new book is "The Underground Railroad." I'm striving to feel a close connection to Cora. It will come. It will come. In the meantime, I have discovered online a short story written by Colson Whitehead. Pow! The beginning floated me away into the world of Sag Harbor with people commuting back to the city for work and other duties. His story is so picturesque. I don't have a brother, but I could feel myself, a girl, curled up next to a brother while driving in the back of my parents' car. Just wanted to share a line or two. Immediately I catch the relationship between two siblings, brothers. "The trick of those early-morning jaunts was to wake up just enough to haul a bag of clothes down to the car, nestle in, and then retreat back into sleep. My brother and I did a zombie march, slow and mute, to the back seat, where we turned into our separate nooks, sniffing the upholstery, butt to butt, looking mo

I received this beautiful book from Barbour Publishers. I'm thinking about how to review it. While reading the " powerful" prayers inside the book, I realize these prayers can fit Cancer or any other health challenge. These prayers are also a way of knowing God more fully. I've read about His faithfulness and love. I want to also spend time reading about His " will" for us. I certainly feel reading these pages will bring a growth in faith. I think of the book as a cornucopia of prayers.

Stilled as in image, at dawn sliding into blue harbor, boats clang, where does he the man I imagine gripping several ropes return from. Is he conflicted, does he perceive the sky oscillating like a dimmer machine, a mouth, a war, language not declaring its most effective self, bellum grazing ever nearer to beauty, a possible apotheosis how what is left of sense is comfort. Not inebriated much anymore, I rented a lawn to stand in with you, crueler was always singing to our mutual forks, knives. Our translation of a subject drones on unblinking, something black for him returning, his forearms there laid themselves down, ships gone out another pale-plated night. poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/57583 Today I discovered a new poet. Her name is Wendy Xu. I also have a new word for my vocabulary list, or for my Wednesday meme, Wondrous Words hosted by Bermudaonion . The word is "phrasis."  This phrase from the poem seems to fit the search I've done this mor

  Charles Lamb is truly a Humorist. Just an essay title by him can cause laughter. For example, "A Chapter on Ears" is one that is funny. Never have I thought about ears and Architecture together. He likens ears to Architecture by using the term "volute." Our ears are like spirals and we can liken these ears to Architectural styles such as Ionic and Corinthian. Now, I picture the ear as a seashell. Here is one photograph. It is an Ionic Pillar. I just want to add a quote from Mr. Lamb's essay.  "Mistake me not, reader—nor imagine that I am by nature destitute of those exterior twin appendages, hanging ornaments, and (architecturally speaking) handsome volutes to the human capital." buffaloah.com/a/DCTNRY/i/ionicord.html   grammar.about.com/od/classicessays/a/A-Chapter-On-Ears-By-Charles-Lamb.htm