This had 167 pieces of spam.  Easier to delete the original along with it, and just repost.  Hope this doesn't happen too much more. . . . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And one morning all that was burning,
one morning the bonfires
leapt out of the earth
devouring human beings
and from then on fire,
gunpowder from then on,
and from then on blood.
Bandits with planes and Moors,
bandits with finger-rings and duchesses,
bandits with black friars spattering blessings
came through the sky to kill children
and the blood of children ran through the streets
without fuss, like children's blood.

Jackals that the jackals would despise
stones that the dry thistle would bite on and spit out,
vipers that the vipers would abominate.

Face to face with you I have seen the blood
of Spain tower like a tide
to drown you in one wave
of pride and knives.

Treacherous
generals:
see my dead house,
look at broken Spain:
from every house burning metal flows
instead of flowers
from every socket of Spain
Spain emerges
and from every dead child a rifle with eyes
and from every crime bullets are born
which will one day find
the bull's eye of your hearts.

And you will ask: why doesn't his poetry
speak of dreams and leaves
and the great volcanoes of his native land.

Come and see the blood in the streets.
Come and see
the blood in the streets.
Come and see the blood
in the streets!

Extract from "I'm Explaining a Few Things" by Pablo Neruda


Thanks, nordy!!

Thanks, Barb!

Sorry, friends. . . .

After a couple of hours and  the beginnings of a repetitive-motion injury, I'm having to begin using a word recognition filter for comments.  In the past few days, I've had to remove dozens and dozens of comments from one particular spammer, and my patience it at its end. 

I realize by the time it reaches me, no human is any longer involved, but for the human first mover, I wish for you and all your spawn the fleas of a thousand camels to discover and make home in your pubic area. 

Life Changes


So much has to do
with hope, the sense
of light, of kindness
and goodness, and beauty
now that we can be
aware, sit for a while
talk to a friend. Before
our lives were a scurrying
racing across the meadow
chased by hawks, searching
for sustenance, a place,
watching, moving, gathering.

What to do now that we
haven't
the need to leap to the
tree
bounding from branch to
branch
finding the nuts and hiding
them.

What's an old squirrel to
do? 

 Pat Maslowski

February 9, 2013

= ♡♥♡ Awesome Ally Amazes Again! ♡♥♡ =

Written 1 hour ago by Ally’s Mom:

Everything went well. We are home, resting, watching cartoons and taking pain meds.
A nap seems like a good idea too.