Richard Pombo needs to stay away from Congress

I’m not from the Central Valley and I don’t plan to stay here for the rest of my life, so generally the politics around here goes in one ear and out the other. I pay attention enough to know what’s going on, but I don’t put much thought or energy into a reaction. This coming election day, however, that changes. I will NOT be voting for Richard Pombo. I wish I could walk in there and just check a big NO POMBO box, but I will just as happily punch the little square in my ballot. In October 2005, the St. Petersburg Times called him “a virulently anti-environmental... 

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The Southern Lady

Two nicely dressed ladies happen to start up a conversation during an endless wait in the LAX airport. The first lady was an arrogant California woman married to a wealthy man. The second was a well-mannered elderly woman from the South. When the conversation centered on whether they had any children the California woman started by saying, “When my first child was born, my husband built a beautiful mansion for me.” The lady from the South commented, “Well, isn’t that precious?” The first woman continued, “When my second child was born, my... 

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Blindly He Haunts Me

Blindly he haunts me, killed by poisoned smoke of sacrifice. Desire bleeds deep red, and lingers always. A ghost for eternity.  Read More →

My Trust Is But An Ocean

My trust is but an ocean, porcelain to the kiss. I drink the liquid of life, and dance in a champagne pool. I devour your delicious universe, and lie on a velvet cloud for eternity.  Read More →

Ashes, Ashes

Ashes, ashes Lightning crashes. Quickly through the heart. When storm clouds boom, Get out of your room, And taste the tears of Heaven. But keep a watchful eye, On the midnight sky. For when the lightning flashes, There’s no escaping.  Read More →

Death’s Shadow

A dark shadow crawls, Slowly towards my head. I try to step away, But something holds me down. Every second slower, Every minute longer, Yet every day shorter, Every month faster. I grab for time, Grab for hope. Nothing is there, My fingers don’t grip. Faster, faster, falling straight down, No end in sight. A ledge to rest upon, But only for a moment. The Lake of Fire is closer now, So close, too close. Swallow me up, swallow me whole, Finally victim to the shadow.  Read More →

One Single Flame

Sitting in the darkness with nowhere to turn, I find a little candle yearning to burn. The hope of a flame or even a spark, Cause all my fears to slow and to park. I look around at all of the others, I cry because they are burning but mine won’t bother. Why does it have to be this way? I want so much to burn some day. My little wick is beginning to fade, It will surely disappear and in the wax I will wade. Until I find a match to start my fire, I remain alone in the darkness, hanging by a wire. –Written in Middle School–  Read More →

The Bus Ride

I’d say she’s about 250 pounds and carries it all in her middle. There are three children with her, all under the age of seven I’m sure. The smallest one sits on her lap, grasping onto the roll of fat just below her breast as he sleeps soundly. She’s looking off into space, I wonder what she’s thinking. I feel sorry for her. She looks poor, on welfare probably. She’s wearing a faded red shirt with the Salvation Army’s logo on it with white letters under it spelling out, I’M LIVING PROOF THE SALVATION ARMY WORKS. Her jeans are too small and have holes in the knees.... 

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God Wears Overalls

When I was seven, I saw a man get shot in the back of his head. He had no warning. Just a loud bang, and he was hit. He crumpled to the ground in slow motion, his head slumped forward. It almost looked like he was diving, head first into the cold, heartless earth. I just stood there. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe. To this day I don’t know where the bullet came from, nor the identity of its victim. But I know that I was scared. Petrified even. It was like watching an apple fall from a tree, only there was blood — lots of blood. I don’t know if he died... 

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The Gentle Stranger

“You must not tell anyone, dear child, what I am about to tell you.” The child’s left eyebrow peaked as if to say, “Oh I won’t tell.” Knowing full well he would leave this gentle stranger and tell the kid down the street within the hour, who would then tell the kid around the block. All before supper, of course. The gentle stranger smiled and revealed the most perfect white teeth the child had ever seen. With a wink and a sly grin, the child led the gentle stranger to a bench in the cool shade of a great oak. After they sat, the child turned to the gentle stranger... 

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The Smoke of Our Souls

Once again we’ve gathered, preparing for departure. Up and over, out of sight, into a whole new rhelm. Divided we sit, together we fly. You in your corner and I in mine, soon we will be one. One lights the match, which starts the other’s fire. Inhale, exhale, breath the smoke of our souls. Today it’s like this, tomorrow — who knows. When we gather the next time, we’ll do it all over again.  Read More →

Our Soul

Our soul is energy, And energy is neither created or destroyed. Our soul never dies. The body our soul inhabits was given to us as a gift from God. What we do with it is our choice. But if God sees that we are going the wrong way, He will step in and help. And when He feels that He needs our help in His kingdom, He will send for us. The people who leave early are the very special people, Whose help is needed even more. But since our soul never dies, And our body is only a gift, We never really leave, We just take a long lunch.  Read More →

Tweaker Jane

Lust is weakened blood surging through her veins. She’ll drive it to the brink until it finally shoots her down. Jane is consumed by her lust. She’s gonna die one day, and she knows it. Her weak veins bubble as she watches Joe-Joe fill the needle. He clicks his nails on the plastic tube and her eardrums quiver. The deadly liquid swims through her body, as madness swims through her mind. Jane’s lust leaves her, subdued by the poison. “Melt into me,” the couch whispers, “feel my fibers with yours.” Jane’s heart beats a message her brain will never get, “Hold... 

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How to Sing the Blues

1. Most Blues begin, “Woke up this morning…” 2. “I got a good woman” is a bad way to begin the Blues, unless you stick something nasty in the next line like, “I got a good woman, with the meanest face in town.” 3. The Blues is simple. After you get the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes…sort of: “Got a good woman with the Meanest face in town. Yes, I got a good woman with the meanest face in town. Got teeth like Margaret Thatcher, and she weigh 500 pound.” 4. The Blues is not about choice. You... 

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The Cold Within

The Cold Within Author Unknown Six human trapped by happenstance In dark and bitter cold. Each one possessed a stick of wood, Or so the story’s told. Their dying fire in need of logs, The first woman held hers back, For on the faces ‘round the fire, She noticed that one was Black. The next man looking ‘cross the way Saw one not of his church, And couldn’t bring himself to give The fire his stick of birch. The third one sat in tattered clothes, He gave his coat a hitch, Why should his log be put to use To warm the idle rich? The rich man just sat back and thought Of wealth... 

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