Tags » The World

Made in Italy sandals

My mom bought these sandals in Italy sometime in the 90s but was never able to wear them (she reasons that it’s because I have them. 129 more words

The World

How we can help bring hope

While I was traveling in Europe a few weeks ago, it was nearly impossible to escape the news stories about the refugee crisis. The initial reaction I had was “this is so overwhelming!”. 598 more words

The World

Help yourself...

What would life be if it rested solely on me?
What would life be is it was based simply on what I see?
What would I hold dear if I lived for the day only? 443 more words


Travel The World Over

You might catch a breeze while you are in the Andes or buy some fresh fruit when you visit Beirut You could ring the chapel bells in the Dardanelles get real skinny as you tour New Guinea buy an egg roll in Soul or go astray while in Norway I suppose you could get pneumonia any time in New Caledonia or blow up a ballon in Kartoon or try to cast magic spells in the Dardanelles or you might break an arm or a leg in Winnipeg or sing allegro in Montenegro take a swig in Leitzig get a deep tan in Japan or go hang  with the gang over in Pyongyang You could go for a new look during you stay in Kirkuk or you could gather some shells in the Dardanelles get kind of vague in La Hague run free in Dundee call somebody name of Unice in Tunis or you could have some fun in Lisbon swim free in the Zuider Zee but you know you can’t play ice hockey in the city of Nagasaki  but you could go for some soy in Hanoi You could look snazzy in Benghazi stay loose in Belarus play tennis in Venus or read a good book some place in Tuebrook or perhaps have something sugar free in Calgary Be glad when you are in Chad and be discrete on the Isle of Crete and don’t be such a jerk in Dunkirk


If we are all playing one big game for one common goal, why aren’t we all on the same team? Teamwork makes dream work.

Ramble On

Just to show you a few things....

The weather is nice, the air pollution is on normal levels, people are showing off their usual rubbish and the cockroaches are multiplying happily. Time has come to tell ya something. 407 more words

The World

Inexpensive Cupcake

Don’t know if you’ve noticed the papers recently as they are covered with bombs and warfare abroad in places no one has been to that scares the baby in us all, that waits on the sidelines of life, wanting to know if, there is a chance for anything like tomorrow and his hobo-walking-stride and cigarette in hand pollution pouring from it—a factory at the tip of the world-end where everything turns dark-night from smog of bad breath, to come in and brush your teeth even if you don’t like it, to keep the dentists away is to keep a fat pocket, and we all need a little incentive from time to time, but to the extend that raincoats don’t protect our non-ultraviolet skin and shakes from the other side of the globe continually break the family of ancestors inside the spinal chord of us all without ears pressed to the beating heart of death and her grandmother-earth whispering for love and loving us nonetheless, we can’t see with our traffic in front of our eyes and needing to get there all the time all the time, then finally getting there, dinner on the table, clean up, good night, and next day routine all over again, newspaper on front step, when all we need to do is use the internet for the news, like we’re searching for something in there, our own reflection, a bathroom mirror, the award we’ll never get, the shadows within us containing regret, and unsent packages of communication, necessary, but now drying in the wind with the rest of autumn’s fall as it talks of a thought it had but forgot, it was lost, but another moment arises, a cup of coffee later, suddenly we remember what it was all about, when speaking to the person these things are for, understanding the floor of our lives is as temporary as the next breath, and we inhale anyway, what bravery and courage, when examining this, like a soldier’s last step and this country-fried chicken of a many cornered-star holding back air from revealing hand-shakes with further arms to send drones with war but not men and women to make that difference of who fights where and when and rely on machines to do our dish work and the washer machine has been on since the sixties and no one knows where the off button is anymore, as all the smoke in the world can be contributed to too many thoughts without a body, a head without a neck, a torsos without a chest, a pelvis without crotch, thighs and knee caps, and shins and ankle, and all the tiny bones in the foot, no one can account for missing information as it just vanishes from the proof of a pudding taste-bud in hopes dress will be served twice because, let’s face it, we all want evidence of further sugar even after the child-sign is taken down and the last call was made in a broken Russian accent of something we could never forget—for it’s haunted and bone-chilling window-creak as a door gently slams shut from a howl in a distant memory gaining too many lightbulbs from the eyes of unbroken warrants in hunger and in love till-death-part stolen or unstolen melting metal in an iron forgery, without fists, and peace signs that turned out towards green companies to help provide awareness rather than continually ride their schoolyards into consciousness relocation bench-marks, that somewhere, at sometime we all need a bellybutton, even if that button is a collapse to meet the farmyard brochure and the tiny vacation it promises, with all its small font administers continual pipeline course of sides served to silence which is broken in the currency of non-documented corn-rolls which stroll and strut to prove something to somebody behind bars where non-cut swagger extolls percentage and hundreds are in search of their statistics but never find their moments without a complaint in an mailbox to an ideologue and statues governing systematic heart-rate telling us if we’re sick or not and where vanilla cupcakes are on sale at Ksupers, the one and only gorgeous, gourmet section, not too expensive in the world