Month: September 2011


2 weeks ago I was at my parents.  Listening the sounds of crickets and silence.  I bitch a lot about not liking my hometown, but always love being with my parents.  I had an amazing visit with them and before I left, I made a trip to their awesome garden!  I’ve been living off the bounty since!  Tonight I had to use up the last of the tomatoes, I didn’t want them to go bad… This is what became of them.



GIT IN MA BELLY!!!  I was going to make a pie, but ran out of steam….  Maybe tomorrow…

Letter to lost or forelorn spirits

Dear Ghost,

You’ve been on my mind of late.  I’m not sure if due to the resurgence of television shows about ghost hunters or psychic detectives, or maybe I’m thinking too much about the demons of my past and the ghosts of my future that may never be.  My brain is over stimulated these days, thoughts of money not in my wallet, love or lacking from the foolish humans and that fork in the road that continues to block my path.  Why oh why have you suddenly found a crook in my gray matter.

I have questions, so many questions.  I’m requesting you answer them without vagueness. I request that you make the writing on the wall clear. I request clarity. I would be ever so grateful if at least this one loose end in my life could be tied up into a nice tight, clean knot. Then I could finally move onto other things, things I may never have answers to.

You’ve been murdered and your soul, essence, spirit, what have you, can’t move on till your death has been avenged, the killer caught and punished.  Along comes Miss or Mister medium who become mental cases due to your mind numbing, information missing dreams and messages.  Seriously, if you can contact them, couldn’t you just give them the person’s name? Don’t you want to find peace and happiness?  Is there some messed up Ghost code that only lets you play dead charades?

Another thing that’s been haunting me, in both the real and paranormal world.  If you can become corporeal enough to bang on the floor, open cupboard doors and levitate beds, why can’t you hold a marker in your hand and write a detailed message on a wall?  Give the poor humans a hint already. Then again, maybe part of being a ghost is you get to play head games without guilt.  I’m starting to think it’s fun for you.

What’s the deal with the dark?  Is this you or are the ghost hunters just fixated on night vision equipment?  Personally, if I had night vision goggles, I’d find better and kinkier ways to use them.  Maybe this is ghost foreplay and kink for you?  I know you can make yourself visual during the day, movies like The Changling and The Sixth Sense say it’s so.  Are you afraid of the light?

Step into the light
remove your fear
and let the truth be seen.

Shadows of a long dark sadness
are washed away
white chalk, simple words.

Life, love, death
affirming, attainable, unavoidable
all slipping to the latter.

Breath in my soul
release your old ghosts
together we find answers on the wall.

The Solitary Reaper ~ William Wordsworth

This is one of my favourite William Wordsworth poems.   It always seems to ring true for me and occasionally screams at me, like today.

The Solitary Reaper ~ William Wordsworth

          From Memorials of a Tour in Scotland (1803)

Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne’er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?—
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?

Whate’er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o’er the sickle bending;–
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

Music that matches your mood…

Ever hear a song that screams out to you?  Lyrics that shadow and match the things that are going on in your life.  Music, not just for angsty teens anymore.

I saw this video posted on friends Facebook, then shared it on mine.  Once I really listened to it and really heard what they were saying, I realized how right they are.

The lyrics

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see
And now after some thinking, I’d say I’d rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me

But I don’t, I don’t know what that will be
I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see

What’s my name, what’s my station, oh, just tell me what I should do
I don’t need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you
Or bow down and be grateful and say “sure, take all that you see”
To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me

And I don’t, I don’t know who to believe
I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see

If I know only one thing, it’s that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak
Yeah I’m tongue-tied and dizzy and I can’t keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else?

And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf
I’ll come back to you someday soon myself

If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m raw
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
And you would wait tables and soon run the store

Gold hair in the sunlight, my light in the dawn
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
Someday I’ll be like the man on the screen

A little obession of mine

I have a couple things I am passionately obsessed about, silent movies, classic horror, zombies, everything 1920’s, vintage cookbooks and vegan online cooking sites.  I was perusing my friend Lara Christine Mansfield’s Facebook yesterday.  She has become the queen of finding amazing recipes (both vegan and raw) and had The Messy Cook posted as her most recent find.


It has recipes, articles, info about restaurants and travel (please note it is a UK based Ezine), and a tab for the creators personal blog.

And you can sign up for the newsletter either requesting Vegetarian recipes or Vegan recipes.  Even if you aren’t a Veghead, you will love this site!

A few other of my favourite links:

I have a bajillion more and will add them as I find them again…


Pride and realizing when it’s time to get over yourself…

I sat down and had a talk with myself today.  An honest talk.  A painful talk. Being a full-time writer and editor is a financial struggle at the best of times.  Unless you are working full-time for a publisher, newspaper or magazine, it’s impossible to stay afloat.  So… I had to set my pride aside, get over myself and made a decision.

Rent, bills, food, paying off debt = $$$  In order to make $$$ I have to have it actually coming into my bank account.  In order to do this, I have to go back to temping.  It’s a means to an end, a way to survive.  There is a beauty that goes with this.  It’s temporary, I have promised myself that.  So I cut a deal with my evil self.

There are people in this industry, who I greatly respect, that also have to do the same thing.  If they can, so can I.  There will be a few other changes I will need to make.  Finding a cheaper place to live is the next step.   Possibly a second part-time job.  When you are fighting the good fight on your own.  You gotta do… what you gotta do.

The truth will set you free…

It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble. It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so. ~ Mark Twain

This quote says it all and reverbs loud in my head today.  It really, truly does.

Human nature.  It’s a funny thing ain’t it.

I know a lot of things that ain’t so and won’t be so.  I’ve come to realize this. But, the reasoning behind the choices, make no sense at all.  You can’t force people to do the things you want or to make them change.  You can’t help them see the light or make them understand what is good for them, what will make their lives awesome or truly happy.    You just can’t.  You can be patient till the ends of time, but it’s up to you to make a final choice.  You can look at this patience a few ways, time wasted, lessons learned or hope.  Myself, I’m the patient hopeful one.  Most of the time.  Where is that getting me?

I’ve spent a lot of time inside my own head this last week, way too much time, time I needed to spend.  Due to depression and no money, I’ve imposed a house arrest on myself.  Yes that sounds a little harsh, but I really can’t be around people right now.  I’ve decided to focus on me, get writing done, look for freelance work and other types of work to help ensure I can pay rent, bills and eat.

I know I’m not, nor will be anyone elses priority and in the fight on my own.  I guess I always have been.  As with most things, it all comes back to Zombies.  In the event of a Zombie outbreak, you actually have a larger chance of surviving if you go out on your own.  No one slowing you down, no one else to worry about.  That’s the survival instinct I keep fighting.  I tell everyone else to go with their gut, when in fact I keep trying to force another conclusion.  Time to practice what I preach.

New week… new?

Well… due to the weather, my plan today has been moved to tomorrow.  I was going to make numerous amounts of photocopies of a resume and drop it off to bars/restaurants.  I need to generate another type of income to help pay bills, rent and allow me to eat while building clientele and attempting to get books finished and published.  Instead I am sitting here sending out my resume en mass and hoping to get work.

I refuse to give up ‘the dream’, instead this is just a bump in the road I will get over, or so I keep trying to convince myself.  I still freak out every morning, wondering how the hell am I going to pay rent at the end of the month… but it’s three weeks away and am hoping something comes to light in the meantime, still can’t sleep or eat.  That’s what happens when you are raised to be responsible and the guilt of missing a payment becomes an almost unbearable burden.  I look around at others I know and they are so ‘casual’ about the whole thing.  Not caring if they get evicted or if creditors start banging on their doors.  Me… I can’t become that lax.  Maybe I’m way more uptight then I let on.

All of this aside, I’ve come to realized more and more that I need to look out for me and me alone.  I’ve always been there for others, but when I’m in a time of crisis, those individuals are nowhere to be found.  In a world that has a million ways to communicate… don’t tell me you have no way of getting a hold of me to see how I’m doing.  All you’ve proven is you just don’t give a damn… so I in turn, need to stop as well.  In the last month I’ve been unloading a lot of dead weight and this week, much more has been sent down the disposal.

So back at it.  Resumes out. Submissions to books, magazines out.  Prepare stuff for grant applications.  I will plug on.

info please….

Tonight I am writing my first drafts for 8 articles on poetry.  Need to submit them Tuesday.  If anyone has any info, opinions or suggestions for the list below.  Please message me.

The #1 Poetry Slam In America,
So You Want To Enter A Poetry Slam?
How To Create Your Own Spoken Word Poetry ShowCase,
10 Legends (?) of Spoken Word Poetry
How To Create A Spoken Word Poetry Series
10 Online Poetry Magazines You Should Be Reading
How To Get Your Poem Published In Poetry Magazines
Toronto: A Great International Poetry Scene