Roderama

Dave Barry is Back!

2012-02-16T10:28:00.000-05:00

I'll Mature When I'm Dead: Dave Barry's Amazing Tales of Adulthood by Dave Barry

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I love listening to Dave Barry read his own work, it makes me feel like I am swapping stories with an old friend. And, typical of those "old friend" conversations, topics will sometimes cover familiar ground. But also true of those "old friend" conversations, I laugh at the same stories and revel in the new ones.

Barry hits some high points here, with his vampire love story parody and his too-near-the-truth tale of the state of American health care. He includes here his previously-published colonoscopy story, which I fully intend to share with some of the colonoscopy-phobics in my life.

Barry also gives us his take on religious institutions, which gave me my favorite line of the book. While comparing his experiences with both Christian and Jewish ceremonies, he declares that perhaps his true religion is Joketarian, described this way:

"We Joketarians believe it's possible that an all-powerful, all-knowing God created the earth and its creature, But if he did, He was obviously kidding."

I couldn't agree more.

Disclaimer: The fact that Dave Barry wrote "to my idol" to me on the inside cover of "Boogers Are My Beat" in no way influenced this review. :)

View all my reviews

Wise Words from George Orwell

2012-02-08T11:50:00.000-05:00

If people cannot write well, they cannot think well, and if they cannot think well, others will do their thinking for them.

George Orwell,
British writer

A Monday Kind of Day

2012-02-06T13:31:00.001-05:00

I need to hang this around my neck.

Monday is the most maligned day of the week. Workers curse Monday for the sharp slap in the face it gives to weekend revelers. It is the no-nonsense day that symbolizes there is work to be done and we better get to it. It also can be the day that reinforces a maxim created by my good friend, Otto — "If you're gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough." And to that end, today, a Monday if there ever was one, is hammering that point home.

The bank account is overdrawn, the gas gauge is on empty, and pain in my hip delays me from getting out of bed. I wonder if I should even attempt to beat my hair into submission — will a good hair day even be possible? And 5 minutes ago I got an email that a review of my book has gone live. My self-published collection of previously published columns wrapped in a cover featuring my own digital art. I've already been warned that there are uncaught typos, which is a true exercise in humiliation for an editor. I realize of course, that the old saying that "a lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client" also applies to self published writers. A writer who edits her own work is apt to miss too much because she is too familiar with it. Add lousy typing skills to that and you have a dangerous mix. Still, I hold out hope that content will win over form, even though I have been less than kind to others in that respect (karma?). So, here is the link to a very different kind of review, I really like the format, and am taking to heart the constructive criticism. As much as I can on a Monday! Bookmark the site and go back in March if you want to be entered in the book giveaway.
http://www.uncustomarybookreview.com/2012/02/treading-water/

GroundDay 2012 - Rodent Confusion

2012-02-02T10:22:00.000-05:00

My Jamesburg groundhog

Since this blog is rooted in the adventures of the small furry ones among us, the adventures of groundhogs need to be included — at least on Groundhog Day. Today's groundhogs have come out on either side of the question. Some have said "six more weeks of winter" and some have said "spring will be early."

Here in New Jersey, the winter has been mild, and we are all holding our breath until April to see if we escape the snows of yesteryear. We have even had a few days when it was perfectly appropriate to turn off the heat and open the windows; at least for a few hours. It is no wonder that the groundhogs in this area are confused. Not to mention the ongoing debate as to whether or not an accurate prediction can be made if a groundhog sees his shadow because of all the television lights and flashbulbs going off.

I have my own personal groundhog, a large, tough creature who could not be persuaded to leave his den under my shed by either earthquake or hurricane. I certainly know better than to challenge the claws of this rodent to try and rouse him out of his hole for a specific weather prediction for my small town. I have decided to let sleeping groundhogs lie – at least the one in my yard.

After all, the famous groundhogs getting their 15 minutes of fame across the country today really do agree with each other, no matter what their predictions are. Spring will be here – sooner OR later.

No puddles in New Jersey

2012-01-11T15:56:00.000-05:00

Considering the type of weather New Jersey has been having, it is surprising that it isn't raining today, and that there isn't a puddle to be seen. This makes celebrating National Splash Your Friend in a Puddle Day a little difficult. Of course, such a celebration is pretty impractical in January in New Jersey, or most of the US.

A quick check of the average January temperature map for the US shows that most of the country is usually a bit too chilly for enjoyable outdoor puddle splashing today. The very southernmost states may be warm enough, but the average rainfall amounts in much of that area don't bode well for the availability of puddles. We are pretty much left with some areas of Southern California, Louisiana and Florida.

Of course, the truly best place for this holiday looks to be Hawaii. After all, even if the sun is shining there, and there isn't a puddle to be found, splashing a friend in the ocean could be a great substitute. In fact, I think that Hawaii should be the unofficial headquarters of National Splash Your Friend in a Puddle day from here on out.

Now, if we could just all arrange to be there!

National Splash Your Friend in a Puddle Day

2012-01-09T22:19:00.001-05:00

I have become fascinated with this offbeat commemorative day. It is not for what it is; we have all kinds of crazy "national days" to recognize all sorts of events, activites and marketable products. No, what fascinates me is that whoever came up with this day placed it in early January, which is not a prime puddle splashing time of year. Not in this hemisphere anyway. It makes me wonder, what areas of the world are warm enough and wet enough for enjoyable puddle splashing in January?

I'm off to do some research and will bring you the answer in my next post. In the meantime, get you rainboots ready, just in case.

Have a Ha-Ha-Happy New Year with Laughter Yoga!

2011-12-29T10:24:00.000-05:00

And don't forget, January 28, 2012 is Fun at Work Day. What could be more fun than a Laughter Yoga session in your workplace!

www.njlaughter.com

A laughter Yoga Holiday Card

2011-12-21T10:26:00.000-05:00

New Gift Items Featuring My Digital Art: "In My Cups"

2011-12-08T14:05:00.002-05:00

See it here!

Adventures in SmartPhone Land

2011-12-05T12:02:00.001-05:00

To say that I have just joined the ranks of smart phone users with my recent purchase of an Android phone, is really untrue. Way back in 2003 or 2004 I owned a VOQ phone. This phone had a phone pad that opened into a keyboard, and with it, I could access the web, email and chat systems. The phone had a tiny joystick that served as a mouse. With that phone, and its small screen I amazed my friends and coworkers who had previously only seen such tricks performed by a Blackberry. My reputation as an ahead-of-the-curve geek was preserved.

The VOQ phone, however, soon fell out of favor in the United States, and when I wore out the joystick with my enthusiastic web and email surfing, there was no way to get it repaired or replaced. Around this time a little thing called the iPhone made its debut, and before long, the race was on to dominate the smart phone market, create millions of apps, and of course, create expensive "data plans" that are required to keep these phones going.

Since I was forced into austerity budget measures at the time, I could neither afford the fancy new smart phones, nor the dataplans to run them. I sat on the sidelines watching people fall in love with their iPhones, become addicted to their Crackberries, and generally leave me behind in the technology dust. It was humiliating. Worst of all was the explosion of QR Codes and my inability to access the secrets they unlocked. Sometimes I just wanted to shout "remember when I was the only one with a smartphone?"

I must confess to a certain small measure of smug self-satisfaction when some of these phone began having issues with operating systems, faulty upgrades, poor cell phone service and fleeting battery life. While others were dealing with phone "bricks" and multiple trips to the various cell phone repair stores, I was motoring along with my simple flip phone, making calls and sending texts like a pro.

This all changed in 2011 when a Black Friday deal made a 4G android phone available for only a penny, and a certain cell phone provider offered a dataplan that was not much more than what I was paying for my "unsmart" phone. I was hooked. The fact that I could keep my old phone number sealed the deal and proudly paid my penny.

When the phone arrived, it needed to be activated, a process that seemed very simple, according the the enclosed directions. This is when I learned that some things, like clueless customer service, have not changed. Waiting endlessly on hold to get to a live person has not changed either. And, as I have experienced with everything from internet service to medical insurance, the process of needing to speak to at least four people has not changed. But eventually, the phone was activated and I was immediately mesmerized by my new toy.

I put in my contacts, even importing everyone's photos directly from Facebook. I snapped photo after photo with the 5 mp camera on the phone, and downloaded a camera app that let me take photos with all kinds of special effects. I was able to view video of my granddaughter and decorate my home screen with "live" holiday wallpaper featuring snowfall. And yes! I could access all the QR codes I could find, including ones I had created myself for work!

My introduction to SmartPhone Land was not complete however. Apparently, even today, no one can escape the curse of the "brick" phone. For me, it is an endless loop telling me that TWLauncher isn't operating and must be force closed. Unfortunately, TWLauncher is like the door at the Mines of Moria, and if you don't know the secret password/reset button combination - you never get back into your phone. I tried every solution I could find in Android forums, but all roads still lead me back to same loop. I have now made an appointment at a cell phone store to see what they can do. I am not so smug now.

"Treading Water" now available for Nook

2011-11-22T11:28:00.000-05:00

Click here for Nook

Click here for Kindle and Print Edition

Free Excerpt From "Treading Water"

2011-11-21T19:32:00.000-05:00

In addition to the excerpt printed at the What's Your Mom Story blog, I am also printing another mother-related excerpt here. To order "Treading Water" see my webpage at www.noreensdigitaldreams.com

I’ve Got You Under My Skin, Kid

by Noreen Braman

Medical science recently discovered that women who have been pregnant might carry cells from the child in their body for decades after the birth. And those same children show evidence of having cells from their mother in their bodies for a lifetime. Finally, a scientific explanation for some of the dynamics of family life.

Mothers invariably have a certain radar for when “things aren’t right.” The kids are too quiet or they’ve been out too long or there is just a nagging feeling inside that for the most part, fathers are clueless about. How many times do we read a story about a child’s rare illness, diagnosed only when doctor after doctor found nothing, and mom insisted on one more test. Sure, we all acknowledge this is a mother’s instinct, but now, we finally have scientific proof of how it might work.

I am probably carrying around with me, some cells from all three of my children. Cells that swim around in the bloodstream, basically doing nothing until they are awakened by messages from the cells in my child’s body. I don’t know how this would work exactly, but perhaps there is some kind of wireless, cellular Internet – or maybe they use cell phones. The result is, the child cells in my body start swimming as fast as they can up to my brain where they pull the emergency cord and my train of thought screeches to a halt. I am immediately consumed with concern for the involved child and must track him or her down right away. “How did my mom know!” is often the surprised reaction. Especially when a truant child bounces into the house after a day spent avoiding school, only to find Mom standing there, home from work a full three hours early.

Now that we know that mothers and children are forever connected by these interloper cells, perhaps they can be used to our advantage. Mom’s cells in the child’s body can be trained to monitor a teenager’s driving, automatically imposing a 40 mph speed limit. Grass could be cut and garbage taken out without nagging – and that wild boyfriend with the nose ring – he could be history.

Of course, eventually, the children will find out how to activate their own cells in mom’s body. Phone calls will no longer begin with “so you haven’t called in three weeks, good thing I’m not dead …” Twins and close siblings will no longer be outfitted in matching clothes and paraded around the neighborhood. Becoming a lawyer or a doctor will be something pursued because of interest, not just because Mom wants one in the family!

Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea after all.

Humor Writer Releases Book In Time for National Lifewriting Month | PRLog

2011-11-15T13:45:00.000-05:00

Humor Writer Releases Book In Time for National Lifewriting Month | PRLog

Veteran's Day 11-11-11

2011-11-11T10:39:00.002-05:00

To honor all our military veterans, a poem from WWI, that Linus recites in the video "What Have We Learned, Charlie Brown?"

In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead; short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Halloween Story

2011-10-27T16:23:00.000-04:00

For those who didn't see it in my newsletter, here is an old favorite Halloween story of mine. Happy Halloween!

Pull Cord for Nurse

(c) Noreen Braman

Emily hated working late. The turn-of-the-century hospital building that now housed her office was creepy enough during the day. After dark, building would creak and moan, making it easy to believe the stories about the former hospital - tales of experiments and mysterious deaths. The hospital staff had been absolutely fascinated with electric devices, haphazardly running wires to power all sorts of gadgets, including hundreds of little boxes with strings hanging from them, each one labeled "pull cord for nurse."

No one had bothered removing these boxes when the building was converted to offices. Every so often, a persistent ringing or buzzing coming from some distant room would require hours of work by the electrician to find the source and shut it down; blown fuses were common. Out of desperation, the office staff had become quite adept at pulling wires and changing the old glass fuses.

Tonight, Emily hoped she wouldn't have any electrical problems, she didn't feel like stumbling around in the dark utility closet to change a fuse. But around 9 PM, with only a little flicker as a warning, the lights went out. Emily sighed and reached into her desk drawer for the flashlight. Then, she headed down the hall toward the utility room, her footsteps echoing eerily in the empty building. Swinging the flashlight around, she searched the floor for the piece of wood they used to prop open the heavy metal door, then turned to open the fuse box. Suddenly, the door crashed shut behind her. She jumped and dropped the flashlight, which immediately went out. Frantically, she dropped to her hands and knees, feeling along the floor for the light, but she couldn't find it. Although she knew she had been alone in the building, she pounded on the door, screaming for someone to come open it. Terrified at the thought of being stuck in the utility closet all night, she ran her hands along the walls for anything that might help her get out. Behind some pipes, she felt the shape of a box with a string hanging from it. In desperation, she pulled the cord, and to her great surprise, there came the sound of a bell ringing somewhere deep in the recesses of the building. Emily yanked on the cord incessantly, hoping that someone would hear her.

After what seemed like an eternity, Emily heard footsteps in the hall, slow, shuffling steps that were coming closer. "I'm in here!" she shouted. "Come open the door!" She pounded on the utility room door as the slow footsteps became louder and louder. "Hurry!" she yelled, but the footsteps continued at their slow, shuffling pace.

Finally, they stopped, right outside the door. The old doorknob turned back and forth. Emily pushed on the door. It flew open and Emily fell headfirst out into the hallway. She sat up and rubbed her shoulder, and tried to see in the darkness who had rescued her.

"Thank you," she began, then gasped. Standing above her, glowing dimly in the dark, was someone half -human, half corpse, wearing the tattered remnants of a uniform and nurse's cap.

A skeletal hand reached toward Emily and a low raspy voice said "It's time for your medicine."

In the creature's other rotten hand was a hypodermic needle, filled with a glowing blue liquid. Emily screamed and tried to crawl away. A rancid hand fastened on her leg with a surprisingly strong grip. With her free leg she kicked at the glowing needle, knocking it from the nurse's hand. The nurse hissed furiously, and let go of Emily.

Emily scrambled to her feet and stumbled down the dark hall. Behind her, the nurse had picked up the needle and was shuffling toward her. "It's time for your medicine!" she wailed.

The old hospital building seemed to creak and groan in response. As Emily raced down the hallway, the doorknobs of each room she passed shook violently, and there was pounding on the doors as if someone was trying to get out. She looked behind her to see the nurse coming closer and closer, needle raised above her glowing skull. "It's time for your medicine!" she shrieked.

Emily careened down the hall, until she finally saw the outline of the front door. Outside, the lights of the parking lot glowed brightly. Emily swung open the door and ran out into the night.

Inside the hospital, the nurse watched Emily run away. Silence descended on the building as she shuffled back down the winding halls of the building. Slowly, she lowered her decaying body into the rusted chair at the forgotten nurse's station. She put the glowing needle back on the desk with the others, and folded her bony fingers in front of her on the desk. There would be other patients who needed her, and she would wait there as she was trained to do. Forever.

Self-Publishing: The Debate is Over

2011-10-19T11:15:00.000-04:00

Self-Publishing: The Debate is Over

Treading Water Hits the Kindle Store

2011-10-14T13:22:00.000-04:00

For those of you who have followed my blogs, my stint as LOL Editor and EWG Presents, my various published pieces scattered among magazines and anthologies - here is news for you! Now you can get all your favorite pieces together in one place in my new Kindle format book, Treading Water. If you are a new reader, Treading Water is a damp collection of essays and columns from the Evil Pants series to The House orf Rhyming Pests and other tales of watery adventures, misbehaving dogs, careful plans gone awry and varmints of all kinds that don't give up!

use this link to order:

No Kindle? No problem! Download free reader software!

My response to Occupy Wall Street

2011-10-05T14:48:00.000-04:00

Ten Years Later, the Scars of 9-11 Remain

2011-09-07T13:10:00.000-04:00

The Day the Earth Stood Still

I remember stepping out of the shower

images on the television, a building engulfed in flames.

Thought it was coming attractions of “Collateral Damage”

a movie discussed earlier,

the screams of Katie Couric told me otherwise.

Wrapped in a towel, staring at the images, mind so filled with horror

no discernible words formed.

Dressing robotically, confused as to what I was seeing

the second plane confirmed the intent.

I remember radio voices,

Scott and Todd, reporting what they were hearing

and seeing – voices choked with shock –

in Dr.Uray’s office – the nurses were weeping and trembling

all with children somewhere in the city.

We listened to Todd, or maybe it was Scott, wail in disbelief as the first tower

fell to earth, Dr. Uray corralled her staff – saying they must do their job in times of war, her face grave with past remembrance, her mouth set in a line of determination.

I remember calling the office to say I couldn’t possibly come in,

my boss Morgan said many were leaving anyway,

others sat silent in the conference room,

soundless except for whispered descriptions for those without sight,

of the unfolding results of incomprehensible acts.

Later would come the stories of Michael Hingson and his guide dog Roselle – escaping from the dust, debris and chaos, but that day, we saw nothing but death and destruction.

I remember going to my sister Theresa’s house

she hadn’t heard from her husband, a supervisor at UPS, who often subbed for drivers on the World Trade Center Route.

The kids trickled home from school , we tried to shield the youngest, Robert,

Through many many anxious hours before his father walked in the door.

I remember going home to my house,

my daughter Annemarie and my son Roy Michael, on the deck

surrounded by football players and cheerleaders

silent and subdued they clung to each other powerlessly,

all knowing someone with someone in the city.

I worried about my oldest, on campus at Montclair University,

no phone calls would connect.

The greatest fear of a mother is to be separated from her children in a calamity or disaster. Without her home where I could see, her, touch her – was unbearable, on a day where all was unbearable.

I remember from a high point in Monroe,

a place now covered with a gated community,

we saw the smoke pluming miles into the sky

– a sky devoid of air traffic of any kind – creating a deafening silence the seemed to halt the Earth in its rotation, hold it motionless in orbit, rendering us unable to draw a breath.

I remember night fell, but it was only darkness; sleep wrenched from it, leaving only nightmares behind.

Living on the Smile Side of Life - 4 week class in Monroe Township

2011-09-06T15:20:00.000-04:00

Living on the Smile Side of Life - 4 wk class in Monroe Twp. Starts 9-13. For info see: http://www.noreensdigitaldreams.com/NJLaughter/tabid/76/Default.aspx

Warren Buffet and me are peers!

2011-08-16T16:30:00.000-04:00

After reading Warren Buffet's article yesterday about raising taxes on the rich - I thought wow, what a good idea. Today, I realize, just asking them to pay their fair share is enough. When Buffet indicated that he paid around $6,000 in taxes, I realized that it isn't all that much more than I paid - and way less than the flogging I took from the IRS when I had to tap my 403B early (by ONE year) in order to keep out of foreclosure and bankruptcy after I was laid off in 2009. We working people who are not "too big to fail" are scrambling to stay afloat. How about a tax break for those forced to hit retirement funds because of job loss? How about a loophole for those who have to invest in home and car repairs? But of course, I am being ridiculous. After all, it was Reagan who promised us that we would benefit from the "trickle down effect" of giving tax breaks to the rich. And that trickle should start any day now.

Warren Buffet Tells It Like It Is - or Should Be!

2011-08-15T12:59:00.000-04:00

Finally, one of the "super-rich" takes Congress to task about their tax policies.

How Much Do Today's Students Use Technology?

2011-08-12T10:58:00.000-04:00

This is a great infographic and good info for anyone in communications that wants to reach this demographic.
Via:

PJ Pals Photo Contest | Grandparents.com

2011-08-05T09:31:00.001-04:00

"Vote for my sweet dreamer as the cutest sleeping baby!"

Any grandparent will confirm: there's nothing more precious than kids in PJs. Vote on each photo below.

View >>

Rats Using Poison to Protect Themselves

2011-08-03T10:20:00.000-04:00

In keeping with the name of this blog, here is some rodent news. Love them or hate them, you have to admit, rats know how to adapt.

Rats Using Poison

2011 is Half Over!

2011-07-01T14:07:00.000-04:00

At a recent meeting about personal branding, the subject of blogs was brought up. Feelings about them ranged from "fun to read" to "what a waste of time." Interestingly, the most popular question was "Who has time to do this?"

It made me realize, since my "I'm 50, Now What?" blog, I've been woefully inconsistent here, with the exception of the poetry challenge each April. It also made me think of what a fellow writer said about finding time to "write that novel." She said, the things you really want to do, you find the time for. The rest, you just complain you don't have the time for it.

Seems I need to make some more time for:

Writing.

Exercising.

Gardening.

Laughing.

Blogging.

Because, 2011 is already half over.

Bringing Laughter Yoga to New Jersey

2011-06-16T11:45:00.000-04:00

For more information: www.njlaughter.com

or email NJ Laughter Yoga

Read this Standing Up!

2011-05-11T09:50:00.000-04:00

Via: Medical Billing and Coding

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 27

2011-04-27T09:46:00.000-04:00

Domestic Poltergeist

Ever the open minded skeptic,
horror reader and ghost tale writer,
scoffer of spirit orbs, believer of dreams—
sudden sufferer of missing objects
eyeglasses, coffee cups, one rhinestone-studded Sketcher,
surely the work of supernatural forces
and not related at all to age.

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 26

2011-04-26T10:04:00.000-04:00

Unfinished Poems

cracked like pottery in a collapsed tomb
colorful fragments heaped in disjointed piles
hours, weeks, months devoted to restoring
a recognizable form
which may or may not
be a thing of beauty
or a thing of utility
or a random assemblage of words.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 25

2011-04-25T13:53:00.000-04:00

Sin of Omission

Just pick it up, like dropped stitches
don't unravel the whole thing
or halt the pen, the brush, the needle
to whine or mourn the blowing sand
fill the paper, the canvas, the workbasket
with the work of the day at your hands.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 19

2011-04-20T11:38:00.000-04:00

www.featherblessings.com

Feather Blessings

Desperation, not greed
put all of them under my pillow
with faint hope that one
would float over my sleep
and bestow a gift
to ease my pain.
Prosperity and Health
flirt unabashedly
alternately smiling and pouting
teasing gently - barely showing
the dark underside of their wings.
Love hovers closely with soft embraces
a downy envelope of comfort
which allows Peace to fly high
illuminating the path
no longer strewn with broken glass.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO 2011 April 18, 2011

2011-04-18T21:41:00.000-04:00

Persephone in 2011

Wintering in the Underworld
like a snowbird flown to Florida
with all of the heat
and none of the light
and plenty of old codgers
leering at my eternal youthfulness
knowing just the touch of my foot
above ground brings the life
they can never again create.
They grovel at the foot of my dark throne
not daring to speak my name
and watch with leaden hearts
as I ascend into the light.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO 2011 April 16 & 17, 2011

2011-04-17T21:14:00.000-04:00

April 16, 2011

The Obligatory Poetry Month Limerick

The writers of poetry know
that a limerick's the wrong way to go
if expecting to meet
the "poetry elite"
serious sonnets are more apropos.

(c)Noreen Braman

April 17, 2011

At the Writing Desk

Cleaning the keyboard helps me think
enough dog hair to knit a new dog
and crumbs of unrecognizable origin.
The dust on the screen may actually be
remains of the wall spackling from last spring
still swirling in invisible streams
each time the forced air heat comes on.
Three pens that don't write
a photo printer out of ink -
stuff I only notice
when I run out of words.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 15

2011-04-15T14:18:00.000-04:00

Family Time

The wives tales were right they grew up in blink
toddlers to adults with no time to think
how time would rush by while they burst into bloom
how my heart would expand to give them more room
to grow their own lives and stretch their own wings
as we experience together all that life brings.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 14

2011-04-14T12:16:00.000-04:00

Wrong Number Roulette

Months now, answering calls
meant for a vote-in TV show
playing nationwide all hours of the day
they won't change their newly-minted number
we won't change our years-of-tradition number
one digit differentiates the two.
I don't ask for whom the phone rings
every time the hot line lights up
i worry about a real client
trying to get through
and hearing me not listening
but just saying
"sorry, wrong number."

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 13

2011-04-13T12:01:00.000-04:00

Left in the Dust

distance brings perspective
measurement on a grander scale
but the grit in my eye still hurts
no matter how far the horizon retreats
or the growing darkness depletes the view.
best to turn around and face the unfamiliar
as night rotates slowly to dawn
illuminating a path of possibilities.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 12

2011-04-13T09:21:00.000-04:00

Anniversary

No flowers in the church
all the statues draped in purple
no music, a silent procession.
a Lenten wedding frowned on
but Korea was calling the Marine
his new bride to keep house alone.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 10 & 11

2011-04-11T10:09:00.000-04:00

4-10-11
Sunday Night

Weekend over
staying up too late
sleep brings the rush hour

4-11-10
Monday Morning

email is offline
Friday's problems still remain
quitting time comes quickly

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

NaPoWriMo April 9, 2011

2011-04-09T23:10:00.001-04:00

Unpunctuated

Each year
I fill a space
with poems
words hit the page
like April rain
hoping to nourish
a seed of
beauty

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

NaPoWriMo April 8, 2011

2011-04-08T22:09:00.000-04:00

In the Eagle Nest

the fearsome, feathered hunter
wields deadly beak and talon
in swift strikes from the sky,
but in her lofty windswept nest
she is soft and slow and silent
as she shelters chicks in her wings.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 7

2011-04-07T15:44:00.000-04:00

Maybe It's Not Poetry

Finally the numbers flow in rhythm across the page
lining up like perfect sonnets,
feeding into kaleidoscopic jewel-tone pie charts
rolling as easily off the printer
as pretty words out of my pen
majestically choreographed and inspired
by the all-seeing and all-knowing gods
of the relational database.
maybe it's not poetry to you
but it is epic verse to me.

(C)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 6

2011-04-06T14:57:00.000-04:00

Not My Mother's Daughter

a birthday haiku

my years now equal

her total span of living

but I am still here.

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 5

2011-04-05T16:30:00.000-04:00

Reinvention #3

Two years from that sharp turn
in a road that was rarely straight
yet could still lull the most careful driver
into the rocks and gravel on the shoulder.

Two years from steering so close to the edge
that daylight blinked under the tires
and sand showered down the embankment
the wheel muscled into last minute response.

Two years that started with smoking brakes
on the downhill, desperate hopes for no oncoming traffic
settling at last in the valley of potholes
rough driving but at least no more panic
just a bumpy, slow ride on uneven pavement.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 NAPOWRIMO April 4

2011-04-04T14:42:00.000-04:00

MOTTO

Live with an open mind to
see the unseen
hear the unheard
feel the unfelt
learn the unlearned
hope the unhoped
to open the heart to love.

(C)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month NaPoWriMo April 3, 2011

2011-04-03T22:12:00.000-04:00

Blanket

The measured threads
untouched by shears
woven with love
for the one to come.

(C)2011 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO 2011 April 2, 2011

2011-04-02T21:34:00.000-04:00

In Search of Lucid Dreaming

She wants to know where she will live now,
I remind her she is dead.
She talks about the sailing ship
she is supposed to board
I tell her she is meant to go
I remind her she is dead.
Tonight I must grasp her hand
and hold her in my gaze
and ask her to speak plainly
so that we both may rest.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

NaPoWriMo 2011 April 1

2011-04-01T10:50:00.000-04:00

April 1, 2011

April wakes up dizzy
dream phantoms circling
wet snow slapping the window
vague uneasiness heavy on her chest
the night had not been restful.
She goes out in the predawn
to where the sun should be rising
to relieve battered March
of a year bathed in chaos.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month 2011 Starts Friday

2011-03-28T09:24:00.000-04:00

Getting Ready for National Poetry Month 2011

2011-03-24T10:41:00.000-04:00

Forsythia Window by Noreen Braman

April is approaching, and this April fool (born on the 7th) will once again be taking the National Poetry Month challenge to write a poem a day for the entire month. To start the creativity flowing, and also as a response to the snow we have been having for the past 2 days, here is a headstart poem.

March in New Jersey

One false spring warm day
undoes weeks of patient waiting
and joyful crocus reaching sunward
end up enrobed in snow.

One false spring warm day
encourages coatlessness
and barefoot garden explorations
gloveless hands caressing forsythia buds.

One false spring warm day
strengthens the almost-mute siren call
of ocean and sand and sun
until exhausted winter retreats.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman

My St. Patrick's Day Sodabread Article

2011-03-15T15:57:00.002-04:00

Sure and if it isn't that time of year again. Time to link you to my favorite Irish sodabread recipe. Enjoy!

Just like Grandma Never Baked.

Bye-Bye Borders

2011-03-01T10:36:00.001-05:00

I was saddened this past weekend to enter a favorite Borders store only to find it sporting "store closing" signs. It is the second Borders store I frequented that is closing, and at this point, I don't know if there will be one anywhere within reasonable driving distance for me. It looks like their late entry into the e-reader market may be a big cause of their downfall. Their struggle does provide an example for businesses of all types, as highlighted in this article:

What Associations Can Learn from Borders’ Struggles: Amazons On The Border

HARVEST • by Noreen Braman | Every Day Poets

2011-02-28T10:22:00.000-05:00

A poem published today by Everyday Poets.

HARVEST • by Noreen Braman | Every Day Poets

Are Uterus Police in Our Future?

2011-02-21T20:38:00.000-05:00

The miscarriage I experienced in 1983 is one of the most devastating experiences of my life. I remember sitting in my rocking chair, holding my toddler daughter, both of us rocking and crying. I remember a former boss, upon meeting my husband in town, saying to him "well you didn't want another baby this soon, anyway, did you?" Until now, I thought that was most insensitive, thoughtless and hurtful thing that could be said to anyone going through such a loss. I can not believe that if an ignorant legislator from Georgia has his way, that women in his state who lose babies will actually have to endure an "investigation" into whether or not the miscarriage happened "naturally." In affect, he wants to create Uterus Police who will invade your HIPPA-guaranteed privacy, insult your intelligence and question your motives and health status. And if those Uterus Police decide that your loss did not occur "naturally," that you will be charged with "fetal murder."

Of course this is an obvious attempt to reveal to the ultraconservatives who in their community may or may not have had an abortion - a way for them to get their hands on Federally-protected information and further their anti-abortion agenda. This legislation is a disgusting affront to women, no matter what one's views of abortion are, and most likely it will never be passed into law. However, the fact that anyone could even propose such barbaric legislation in itself should be a crime.

If you can stand to read the actual bill, click here.

The End of A Decade

2010-12-20T10:15:00.001-05:00

2010 is coming to an end, and along with it, the first decade of the new millennium. Seems like it wasn't too long ago we were worried about the Y2K bug, and at work, we were trying to describe exactly how much a million was. (In pennies, it is a block the size of a refrigerator.)

My children have gone from high school students, to college students, to graduates and working adults. There has been one wedding with another one being planned, and in 2011 the vocabulary of infant care will return to family conversations.

I've ridden a wild roller coaster in both my personal life and my professional life, and may finally be reaching a smooth place where I can once again enjoy the ride instead of just closing my eyes and hanging on. At 55, I think I may be justified in saying, "About time!"

I want to thank all of those friends and relatives who have alternately supported me, mourned with me, struggled alongside me, and laughed with me. We may not see each other as much as we would like, but we know how to jump in the boat and row together when needed. And for that I am eternally grateful.

As we enter the new decade together, may we all experience more joy than sorrow, more gains than losses and more sunshine than rain. And may we always have each other in our hearts, in our minds and in our dreams, because it is through sharing with friends, family and loved ones that we truly experience life.

Happy Holidays to All and to All a Great New Year.

Have You Shared Any Good Books Lately?

2010-11-03T17:11:00.000-04:00

Most writers would agree that the urge to put pen to paper is inspired, at least in part, by an intense love affair with books. Sometimes it is one book that excites the passion or it can be the accumulated influences of hundreds or thousands of books. It is a solitary journey along a well-traveled path, but occasionally there is a serendipitous meeting with a fellow traveler.

The sharing of a book can be one of the most profound and intimate acts two people can engage in. Every day, books are given as gifts, recommended by friends, panned by critics. All these are legitimate ways to share a book but there is nothing special in the transaction. Books are consumed for entertainment, for knowledge, for distraction and for help. All those books hold their own special places and exist for their own special reasons. But there is another kind of book - the book that speaks directly to the soul, the book whose very presence in a room can serve as a source of courage, inspiration and comfort.

This is the book that someone hands to you with the words "this is a favorite of mine." It is not an easy admission, for in that brief sentence, one becomes vulnerable and exposed. When you read someone's favorite book you touch his essence, reach that hidden place where even lovers are seldom allowed.

It is a weighty responsibility, then, to be on the receiving end of such a gesture. Rejection, dislike, even a lukewarm response can alienate friends quicker than any pedestrian disagreement. The relationship one has with a favorite book is so intense, that it can feel like a personal renunciation.

Yet, the risk becomes worthwhile when you give someone a book and find out that it speaks to her, too. Suddenly there is a spiritual connection, a shaft of brilliant light that encompasses you both. Both intellectual fulfillment and emotional surrender, it pulsates more intensely than a quasar, providing a potent insight into the heart. The word "soulmate" was created to express just such a relationship, reflecting a union that can be as binding as love.

It may only be a fleeting link between acquaintances, or a sign of a deep, enduring devotion between partners; whichever it is, the feeling that can come from sharing a special book is testament to the power of the written word, and validation of the efforts of everyone who has ever pursued the craft of writing.

Serious Facts about Water for Blog Action Day

2010-10-15T21:42:00.000-04:00

A Human Right: In July, to address the water crisis, the United Nations declared access to clean water and sanitation a human right over. But we are far from implementing solutions to secure basic access to safe drinking water. More Info »
40 Billion Hours: African women walk over 40 billion hours each year carrying cisterns weighing up to 18 kilograms to gather water, which is usually still not safe to drink. More Info »
38,000 Children a Week: Every week, nearly 38,000 children under the age of 5 die from unsafe drinking water and unhygienic living conditions. More Info »
Wars Over Water: Many scholars attribute the conflict in Darfur at least in part to lack of access to water. A report commissioned by the UN found that in the 21st century, water scarcity will become one of the leading causes of conflict in Africa. More Info »
Cell Phones vs. Toilets: Today, 2.5 billion people lack access to toilets, but many more have access to a cell phone. More Info »
Food Footprint: It takes 24 liters of water to produce one hamburger. That means it would take over 19.9 billion liters of water to make just one hamburger for every person in Europe. More Info »
Technology Footprint: The shiny new iPhone in your pocket requires half a liter of water to charge. That may not seem like much, but with over 80 million active iPhones in the world, that’s 40 million liters to charge those alone. More Info »
Fashion Footprint: That cotton t-shirt you’re wearing right now took 1,514 liters of water to produce, and your jeans required an extra 6,813 liters. More Info »
Bottled Water Footprint: The US, Mexico and China lead the world in bottled water consumption, with people in the US drinking an average of 200 bottles of water per person each year. Over 17 million barrels of oil are needed to manufacture those water bottles, 86 percent of which will never be recycled. More Info »
Waste Overflow: Every day, 2 million tons of human waste are disposed of in water sources. This not only negatively impacts the environment but also harms the health of surrounding communities. More Info »
Polluted Oceans: Death and disease caused by polluted coastal waters costs the global economy $12.8 billion a year. More Info »
Uninhabitable Rivers: Today, 40% of America’s rivers and 46% of America’s lakes are too polluted for fishing, swimming, or aquatic life. More Info »
Building Wells: Organizations like Water.org and charity: water are leading the charge in bringing fresh water to communities in the developing world. More Info »
Technology for Good: Do you want to measure how much water it took to make your favorite foods? There’s an app for that. More Info »
Conservation Starts at Home: The average person uses 465 liters of water per day. Find out how much you use and challenge your readers to do that same. More Info »
Keeping Rivers Clean: We can all take small steps to help keep pollution out of our rivers and streams, like correctly disposing of household wastes. More Info »
Drop the Bottle: Communities around the world are taking steps to reduce water bottle waste by eliminating bottled water. More Info »
Water, Sanitation and Hygiene in Schools: Students in developing countries lose 443 million school days each year due to diseases associated with the lack of water, sanitation and hygiene. Repeated episodes of diarrhea and worm infestations diminish a child’s ability to learn and impair cognitive development. More Info »

And as a reward for reading through these important messages about water, here is a link to my own humorous troubles with water through the years: Treading Water

Blog Action Day 2010

2010-09-28T16:22:00.000-04:00

Change.org|Start Petition

2010-09-24T10:40:00.001-04:00

Fall is here, although the hot weather today belies that. Still, my yard is filling with dry, brown leaves that remind me; time for creative writing!

2010-07-30T20:19:00.001-04:00

Testing my ability to blog from my cell phone. If you are reading this, it worked.

US1 Summer Fiction Issue - my poem

2010-07-29T11:23:00.000-04:00

The 2010 Summer Fiction Issue from US1 is now published, in print and online. You can read my poem that was included here.

New, Doggy Play Date Site for Dog Owners

2010-07-26T09:42:00.001-04:00

For all you dog lovers looking to connect to other dog lovers and maybe finding a playmate for your pooch, a friend of mine has just created the DoggyPlayDate Site. find out more at this link: Join

$5 off any poster

2010-07-21T09:23:00.000-04:00

Society6 is running a special for a limited time. Enter the site through the following link and get $5 off a poster in your shopping cart. Search "Noreen Braman" to find mine!

Society6 Special Discount

2010-06-08T11:43:00.001-04:00

Please help me to get out of clutter hell! Vote for my California Closets contest story here:

Vote for Me!

Ok, You Hacked Me, Are You Happy?

2010-06-02T13:25:00.002-04:00

Right now my web host is hard at work, bringing my website back to life. Well, actually, bringing it back to MY life. Apparently, some low lifes with nothing better to do but exploit webpage software weaknesses chose my page to make the world aware of their existence. And here is the most arrogant part, they have the nerve to put a copyright notice on the page! It makes me want to take their graffiti-style artwork, morph it into something disgusting and embarrassing and pass it all around the internet. It also makes we want to send them an “Independence Day”-inspired computer program that will blow them up. Figuratively, not literally. ... I think.

2010-05-28T10:00:00.000-04:00

Read about why I felt responsible for somehow causing this.

A new essay published on Associated Content.

NAPOWRIMO April 30- En Route

2010-05-03T10:23:00.001-04:00

En Route

The incessant waves are never satisfied

with the appearance of the shoreline

constantly retouching their work

with gentle nudges and fierce upheaval

churning the shells and the sand and the seaweed

in an unending dance of transference.

2010-04-29T13:33:00.000-04:00

Ever Since Eve

For every generation born since the gods became male,
some suddenly enlightened cleric
declares discovering the source of the world's hardships
and lays blame at the feet of women.
Cover her, silence her, hobble her
the mere fact of her sex creates danger,
her temptation too great to resist.
Yet by virtue of bearing all she has endured,
all sordid attempts to conquer and control,
for every generation born since the goddesses reigned,
women still stand in the light, sacrosanct.

NaPoWriMo - April 28 - Ruins

2010-04-28T21:21:00.000-04:00

Ruins

A year’s orbit has ended,
a full range of seasons completed,
the time spent in the quiet dark has ended
and the debris field comes in view.
No longer in flames but more horrible to see
are the charred remains once fled in despair,
revisited now with still mourning eyes
and a barely beating heart.

NAPOWRIMO April 27- Deer Crossing

2010-04-27T14:47:00.001-04:00

Deer Crossing

at the bottom of the hill, remnants of mist and shadows
give false security for their crossing
as the morning cars have no reluctance
to travel this back road at high speed.
tawny shadows, single file
stepping gingerly on the pavement,
heads turning in tandem at the approaching sound.
then, leaping triumphantly into the brush
at the far side, a safe haven
where they fade into themselves
like smoke.

Day 5 - and the NAPOWRIMO Site is still down

2010-04-26T13:22:00.001-04:00

I don't know what happened, all I know is, since April 20th I have been unable to access the discussion forums at www.poets.org in order to post to the NAPOWRIMO thread. I've emailed twice, but not gotten any response either, so don't know if it is being worked on or not.

So, I will try to soldier on, make up for the lost days, and post the rest of my poetry here on the blog through May 7.

And remember, April 29 is Poem in Your Pocket Day, so start thinking about what poem you'd like to carry around with you and share on that day.

At this time of year, I am always drawn to "Casey at the Bat," but I'm still mulling it over. :)

National Poetry Month - 2010 NAPOWRIMO - April 21 Poetry Podcast

2010-04-21T21:16:00.000-04:00

Poetry Podcast

What is

this odd

rhythm

they use

to read

their poems

aloud?

(breathe)

I can't

enjoy

the work

at all,

each line

ends like

a question?

(scream)

(c)2010 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 20- The Conversation

2010-04-20T12:24:00.002-04:00

The Conversation

“All I know of love,” she said,
“is lust and learned behavior.”
He gazed into her acquiescing eyes.
“Then let us just be students.”

©2010 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month - 2010 NAPOWRIMO - April 19 Tea Time

2010-04-19T21:08:00.001-04:00

Tea Time
I’m having tea with Flaming June and Shakespeare,
he is blathering on about Hamlet, as usual
and God forbid she should try to stay awake for once.
Can it be she is dreaming of sleeping
in a field strewn with roses and cherubs?
For if he says another word about
not knowing what we may be,
I’ll be plugging my ears with the tea leaves
And joining her in artistic repose.

National Poetry Month - 2010 NAPOWRIMO - April 18 Adorateur

2010-04-18T22:14:00.000-04:00

Adorateur

Delicate strokes from her finest fountain pen
spun out the letters in blood red ink
each ornate extender flowing into curlicues and flourishes
reticulated arms thrown wide to the heavens
resting on bowls overflowing with droplets and tears
enclosed with windswept waves of lines
fading off to either side.
She took the mark upon her willingly,
drawing the scarlet of her own blood
in sacrifice, in homage, in the holy pain of worship,
she embraced the fire of his adornment
her secret surrender complete.

National Poetry Month - 2010 NAPOWRIMO - April 17 Word Shares

2010-04-18T17:38:00.000-04:00

Word Shares

By putting these words away for safekeeping,
have I guaranteed a future return
with a constant reinvestment to create growth poetry,
gathering power with time,
or should I spend my words on income poetry,
paying small but steady dividends?
I haven’t the heart to short my own words,
to buy into their failure even just as a hedge,
my emotional attachment increases my risk,
after all words are a commodity not only
enslaved to the changing tide of supply and demand
but battered by a fickle marketplace
whose prices cannot be charted
with any semblance of certainty.

2010-04-16T18:48:00.000-04:00

Echoes

Those once belonged to me,
as much as anyone can really possess words,
their echo still hangs, like breath on a cold morning,
whispering undercurrents flowing through the day
going downstream and out to sea.
I cannot swim without your arms
To hold me up.

(c)2010 Noreen Braman

NaPoWriMoApril 16

2010-04-15T18:31:00.000-04:00

They Still Call it the Suburbs

This is how the days end in April

Sitting outside with birds flying like bullets

Children screaming like banshees

A phone rings and rings and isn’t picked up

And from inside the house the sound of a dryer

Turning over and over with something stuck inside

That rattles and rolls and tears at the evening

This is how the days end in April.

This is how the nights start in April

Heat retreating as fast as the light

Cats slithering along the fence line

Eyes fixed on distant prey

Dishes clink from inside kitchens

At least in some of the houses.

And later the shades fall against the night

To hide them that crave the dark pleasures

The kind that come with needles or bottles

As children put themselves to bed.

(c)2010 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month - 2010 NAPOWRIMO - April 14

2010-04-15T07:48:00.000-04:00

April Eyes

Each morning tears - of sadness?
of joy? of spring fever?
Blurred vision begins the day.

National Poetry Month - 2010 NAPOWRIMO - April 13

2010-04-13T21:07:00.000-04:00

I Can’t Tell You the Name of this Poem

Before I even started I was already half-defeated knowing it wouldn't be too
Long before the words collapsed into a hopeless tangle that
Obviously would take me all night to unravel, that is, if I didn’t go
Crazy trying to get them skyward, up into the wind like a dragon-shaped
Kite that dips and swoops and thrills the beached onlookers who don’t need a poem
Everyday because they are way to busy to read, never mind write, besides who can
Decide what a poem is really, so why even start.

©2010 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 12 - Mockingbird

2010-04-13T09:32:00.000-04:00

Mockingbird

How different the songs are at night
a solo performance of each bird of the day
who so often are only background noise
competing with mowers and engines and children.
The mockingbird has no such competition
Warbling and chirping and calling in the dark,
master of mimicry, performer extraordinaire
but talent tinged with sadness,
for in this perfect performance of reflected melody
Is no note of the mockingbird’s own.

©2010 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 10 and 11- The Lost (Poetry) Weekend

2010-04-12T10:35:00.000-04:00

The Lost (Poetry) Weekend

Do my two days of silence even leave a space
in the worldwide tsunami of creative words?
the unspoken verse a tree fallen silently in the woods,
a silent scream frozen in oil paint.
Mute witness to the storytelling fossil
thrown to the surface by the explosions of mining,
did the space I left allow bodies of heroes to fall from the sky,
adding their blood to an unholy place,
my unused words used to form a vile prayer
in the mouths of the learned?

©Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 9 - Spring Song part IV

2010-04-09T17:11:00.000-04:00

IV

Finally, a gentle rain falls in the night
caressing the bent and battered yew
whose only sin was standing up
to the icy blast of wind and snow.
She fared better than her sisters
now reduced to sticks and debris.

NAPOWRIMO April 8 - Barefoot in the Bookstore

2010-04-08T10:51:00.000-04:00

Barefoot in the Bookstore

At the bookstore my foot itches uncontrollably
I can hardly believe a mosquito got me already
its so early for biting and stinging and scratching
please give me at least a couple of weeks in the yard.
The crows are taking over the mockingbird’s tree
between them and the squirrels the racket makes the dog insane
and I can’t even finish a line without leaning down
and unbuckling my shoe and exposing to air
the flaming insult already scratched raw,
I am tempted to pour hot coffee on it
scalding is better than this ungodly skin crawl.

Someone across the bookstore is staring as if
a bare foot was somehow obscene
and I wonder if he has a yard full
of dappled sun and gentle breezes
that turns into The Planet of Bugs.
Even the bats wheeling overhead at dusk
grow fat but barely make a dent
in the population,
and now their numbers further reduced
by the white nose disease and broken hibernation.

I know the hostas need thinning
and they would fill in that bare spot under the tree
but there are slinky, slimy things in the earth,
I am sure my yard holds so many more
than anyone else’s.
After all, when we moved in, we had to spend weeks
battling legions of spiders whose webs
enclosed every doorway and window each morning
no one wanted to be first starting the day
and the dog stood whining by the back door
Knowing the squirrels were getting away.

Not much to be done on street in a neighborhood
where a junk car in the backyard is required
and feral cats without tails, and missing legs and eyes
brazenly yowl under the windows and sleep on the patio,
their scent drives the dog crazy and she can smell them
through the walls, following them with her nose
from driveway to yard - we put up barricades
to keep her from jumping through the windows.

And finally, this litany of wild kingdom complaints
has tamed the sensation in my foot just enough
so I can drink my coffee and read my magazine
still feeling a little cheated because
it is too early for mosquitoes
and I know, back at home the dog is barking
incessantly from deep in the house, at the crows.

National Poetry Month - 2010 NAPOWRIMO - Birthday Calculus

2010-04-07T17:06:00.000-04:00

Birthday Calculus

Some coincidental
mathematical interplay today,
April’s Rule of 5s.

Is it enough to number the years
or must they also be counted?
Because the sum of life is an irrational number
Still bound by the laws of physics.

The higher the total
The faster time goes.

©2010 Noreen Braman

NaPoWriMo April 6 - part 3 Song of Spring

2010-04-06T18:54:00.001-04:00

III

Sudden warmth so early for April

bursts the trees into bloom so quickly

careful listeners might hear the pop

of buds along the branches,

squirrels darting in and out of pastel popcorn balls

festooning the awakening trees.

NAPOWRIMO April 5 - Sensible is as Sensible Does

2010-04-05T15:48:00.002-04:00

Sensible Is as Sensible Does

In a sensible suit wearing sensible heels

she drives to the office in her sensible wheels

has lunch at her desk eating sensible meals

no one guessing how horrid being sensible feels.

But she keeps her own counsel and never reveals

That this sensible woman making sensible deals

Has under her clothing, a zebra brassiere.

NaPoWriMo April 4 - part 2 Song of Spring

2010-04-04T23:23:00.001-04:00

II.

Overnight, once barely visible hostas

push their purple shoots upward

suddenly tall enough to cast shadows

On warming soil that not long ago

still slumbered, enshrouded in snow.

NaPoWriMo April 3 - part 1 Song of Spring

2010-04-03T21:08:00.001-04:00

Another spring lays its gifts at my doorway

the budding blooms of leaf and flower

slowly filling in the faded landscape

with color upon color upon color

a promise made and a promise kept.

National Poetry Month - 2010 NAPOWRIMO - Trouble With Tennis Terms

2010-04-02T16:03:00.003-04:00

Trouble With Tennis Terms

I still can’t understand
how love meaning nothing
and mastering a backhand
are considered good things,
since I have been backhanded
by a love that meant nothing
And I didn’t win the set.

©2010 Noreen Braman

National Poetry Month - 2010 NAPOWRIMO - Here we go!

2010-04-01T18:56:00.000-04:00

April Moon

Who will chase the moon with me
on a clear April night where
the barest hint of springtime grass
Glistens damply, still sodden
from days and days of rain.

but who will chase the moon with me
April’s night stretches long and empty
her springtime silence masking
the life within her stirring.

And who will chase the moon with me
and share the starlit sky with me
before the night is over run
with the fair weather friends of summer.

©2010 Noreen Braman

On the First Day of Spring

2010-03-21T11:36:00.002-04:00

The Hyacinths

The hyacinths have raised their heads
above my muddy flower beds
their optimistic growth will bring
my garden to the brink of Spring.

For the Irish, and those who wish they were!

2010-03-16T10:31:00.000-04:00

National Poetry Month - 2010

2010-03-14T12:56:00.001-04:00

April is fast approaching, the month that T.S. Eliot called "the cruelest month" and the source of the title of the collection of poems I wrote last year during April - which is national poetry month. I'm looking forward to challenging myself to do it again this year, and I am inviting everyone to come on and give it a try with me. Or, sign up for my blog's RSS feed, because I will be posting them here also.

To get involved, go to http://poets.org/forum/index.php and follow the directions for setting up your posting area. It is a great place to share and get feedback from other writers. My experience last year was just delightful - even if it was during the cruelest month.

To get us into a poetry reading and writing mood, as well as to encourage the spring weather, here is a poem of mine from a few years ago. Enjoy!

Spring Enters the City

High over the Hudson spired aeries

gleam in the sunset, casting long shadows

below in the streets

where scurrying commuters

follow prescribed paths.

At a sidewalk table rich coffee steams

delightful for so late in the day

and a woman with red shoes pauses to savor

the gift of spring in the city

hands wrapped around her cup.

Daylight lingers at the corners

shining through the scaffolding and posters

that hide the skeleton of the Russian Tea Room,

just two doors from Carnegie Hall

where families laden with flowers

await their children's debut performance

on the hallowed ground.

Later, they pour from the edifice into a night

bursting with light and sound

from city doors flung open to the warmth.

Travelers taxi to the river, ferry-bound

and turn their faces to the skyline

now enrobed in strands of light

a great lady of night, bejeweled, becalmed,

as spring enters the city.

Here's to Your Health (Insurance) - 2010

2010-03-08T19:44:00.001-05:00

As the healthcare debate rages, and reforms are STILL not forthcoming, I reprint here, for you reading pleasure, an updated essay from several years ago. I am sorry to report that not much has changed since I wrote it.

Here's to Your Health (Insurance)!

Recent debates over health care remind of how little things have changed in the past few years. It makes me think back to a time when doctors in my home state of New Jersey and other states conducted work stoppages because they wished to protest their ever-increasing malpractice insurance premiums. Many claimed that these high fees were jeopardizing their ability to practice medicine. Personally, my gut reaction was to say I think it really interferes with their ability to play golf, but that would certainly be unfair. Lots of doctors play tennis.

Oh I sympathize with the beleaguered medical profession. No one can continue to pay ever-increasing fees, especially in today’s economic climate. What bothered me, then, and still bothers me, was that patients were expected to support the doctors in their actions, under the threat of thousands of doctors fleeing the state or abandoning the practice of medicine altogether. Somehow, the patients were dragged into the fight and placed squarely in the middle between the doctor and an insurance company. This is a bad habit that the whole medical insurance system has gotten into, and it still goes on today.

It all started with HMOs, those “health maintenance organizations” who sold us a bill of good disguised as affordable health care. What we really got was a draconian system of delay and defer tactics, reams of paperwork, and a bill from the doctor stating that he can’t wait any longer for your insurance payment and besides, you signed a form stating that you would pay any balance due. Of course, the HMO, who has lost the original paperwork, then denies payment based on the 30-day rule — if they can lose your paperwork for 30 days, they don’t have to pay the bill.

So you call the doctor about the missing paperwork, and suggest that someone from the doctor’s office call the insurance carrier and discuss it. The office staff refuses, claiming that only patients can call the insurance company, they are much too busy sending out bills and they remind you that YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE if the insurance company doesn’t pay. So you call the insurance company who reiterates, WE DO NOT HAVE THE PAPERWORK. Meanwhile, a lovely collection of weekly billing notices begin to pile up in your house, each one in a more vibrant color than the previous one, each one demanding payment, from YOU – THE RESPONSIBLE PARTY. Eventually, a letter comes from the insurance company. They have gotten the bill! Unfortunately, the doctor’s bill and mysterious diagnosis code is insufficient, could I please send a written explanation of why I (or my child) required this doctor’s services? This, of course is followed by the requisite losing of the letter and remailing of the letter procedure, followed by a repeat of the THIRTY DAYS HAS GONE BY letter — the end result being, the bill is unpaid, and the doctor has now turned it over to his lawyer. No one stages a protest, has a work stoppage or even writes a terse letter over YOUR insurance troubles. You are left one your own, smack dab in the middle between the medical profession and the insurance company.

Not long ago, I had a bill for services that has been ping-ponging between me, the medical provider, the insurance company and several layers of lawyers and collection agencies for FIVE YEARS. I was no longer employed at the company that provided the medical insurance, and that company no longer used that insurance company. Surprisingly, there were many complaints about unpaid medical bills. Another time, a bill for my daughter was paid on a timely basis; however, the check was sent to a hospital instead of the doctor. The hospital, not wishing to interfere, promptly cashed the check, and set up an account with a credit balance under my daughter’s name. The fact that my daughter had never been a patient at that hospital was apparently unimportant. When I finally tracked the payment down and called the hospital, they refused to refund the money. After all, the insurance company had sent it to them. Only a certified letter from the insurance carrier demanding the money back would result in the hospital issuing a refund. Do you think either the insurance company or the hospital would call each other to correct the error? HA! As the patient (or parent of the patient as the case was) I had to call each entity and transfer messages back and forth to them. I felt like the child in a dysfunctional divorce, carrying messages between parents who refuse to speak to each other.

And of course, you know what else was happening during this time. The doctor was sending me bills for payment reminding me that I WAS THE RESPONSIBLE PARTY and that my failure to meet my obligation was going to result in the matter being referred to a collection agency.

All I can say is, get in line, there are ten doctors ahead of you.

This time, its the photo caption that is a bit off

2010-03-03T12:11:00.000-05:00

The emNew York Times/em Caption Fail That Launched A Thousand Quips

Freaky Olympics Closing Photo

2010-03-01T16:37:00.002-05:00

Kudos to the photographer who caught this image for Sports Illustrated at the closing ceremonies at the Olympics - on the other hand, it is just a little freaky. Here is the story it reminds me of - The Steadfast Tin Soldier

SnowDog Zelda and the Snowicane of 2010

2010-02-26T15:49:00.000-05:00

7 AM – Snowdog Zelda wakes up from a dream about finally catching a squirrel. Her snowdoggy senses are tingling. She cocks an ear and lifts her nose. Yes, she is almost sure of it. She steps on her sleeping mistress’s chest in an attempt to rouse her.

9:30 AM Snowdog Zelda has been assessing the situation. Through the closed back door she can feel it. Not to mention what she feels in her bladder. She begins sighing and groaning in her mistress’s face. Finally she stirs! Snowdog Zelda jumps back on the bed, pawing at her mistress with joy.

9:45 AM – Snowdog Zelda bursts through the door, straining at her collar. When she hears the click of her chain and her mistress steps back, she bounds into the snow drifts, leaping them like a kid jumping waves at the beach. She races to the tree and looks up – could there be a squirrel there? Hard to tell with the snowdoggy senses on full alert. She hops across the yard to check under the shed – any cats hanging around? But she is distracted by the snowflakes that are falling on her and she chases them to the ground.

9:55 AM – Snowdog Zelda is in stealth mode, sitting very close to the deck, watching the yard. Suddenly, a bird flies across the yard and she is off like a bullet, barking and leaping into the air. At the end of her chain, her paws churn in the snow and she forgets about the bird and chases the snowballs she has kicked up.

10 AM – The mistress has had enough of the sound of barking. Zelda feels a tug on her chain and immediately runs full speed through the deepest snow drift, covering herself with snow. Finally, she heads for the door. Inside she stands impatiently while huge globs of snow are removed from her specially engineered snowdog feet. Then, she gallops off to the living room and settles into her bed, breathing in the lovely aroma of wet dog.

10:05 AM – Snowdog Zelda’s snowdoggy senses are again tingling. Could it be there is still snow outside? Or is she sensing something else? Something very basic, but very urgent? Snowdog Zelda realizes her bladder is still full. She finds her mistress in the kitchen still mopping up and starts the “take me out” dance all over again. The mistress rolls her eyes. But Snowdog Zelda’s powers are strong. Once more she bounds out the door into the snowdrifts. She remembers there was something important she was supposed to do, but, look at this, squirrel tracks in the snow! Snowdog Zelda launches into full snowdog tracking mode, burying her face in the snow and then emerges, barking furiously.

Her mistress sighs. It’s going to be a long, snowy day.

Transition Time

2010-02-24T17:20:00.000-05:00

As I get ready to hit the double nickel, I realize that it represents, at least in an artificial way, a transitional time of life. It is the now or never moment, time to make that one great surge toward the finish line.

As I contemplate this, I do what I usually do in times of deep thought — I rearrange things, redecorate, clear away the cobwebs and dance as fast as I can.

Which reminds me, it IS 2010 (which I prefer to call Two Thousand Ten, thank you very much) and I need to head to the gym for continuation of that old "get more exercise" New Year's resolution.

Happy Thanksgiving - 2009

2009-11-25T12:10:00.001-05:00

This year, much of what I am thankful for is made up of things I have had for a long time — loving and successful children and their significant others with whom I have wonderful relationships, an extended family that is warm, generous and understanding, and steadfast friends who stand by me no matter what.

There are new things to be thankful for also. The job layoff that at first appeared disastrous but actually gave me the chance to get my financial house in order, the new job that has brought fulfillment and joy back into my professional life, and a newfound resiliency that helps me feel calm and centered.

As I’ve said before, life may not be perfect, but it is so much better. This Thanksgiving, my wish for everyone is to find their inner strength to buoy them over hard times and to rediscover the joy and happiness that can only come from finding contentment and peace.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!