Saturday, July 28, 2012

Nature's Lesson- A Poem

By Miriam B. Medina



A poem relating to the beauty of nature and the serenity and guidance it can provide. When down or lost, there's nothing like nature to put things in perspective. A bird fights against the breeze, a tree stands the test of time. All of these wonderful symbols of nature teach us how to hope and move on, and how much beauty exists in the universe, even when we feel blue, nature, like poetry, is a cure for the blues.


I leaned my tired head against the inviting window, to see what waited outside for me
Watching and spying the grand design, I contemplated a stalwart, proud old Pine tree
The weathered tree stood straight and strong, not one leaf did despair
A testament to time basking in the warmth of the sun, billowing in the air,
The tree seemed stoic, much like me, relishing a treasured moment of sweet serenity...
I closed my eyes and sighed, as the weary hearted so often will
And thought to myself, how nice to lean on one so straight, so strong and still
Her pine needles seem to cheerfully dance, in the swirl of the wandering breeze
While her branches swim, sway, and scrape the skies, a wispy cloud floats with ease...
From somewhere in the distance I heard a melodious hum, like some ancient lullaby
I stepped outside so that I could see, the scope of her splendor sprawled against the sky
I watched as her branches swooped down and coddled, caressing the ground lovingly
Refreshing my soul and vitalizing my weary spirit, in a manner so motherly...
Suddenly my life took on a whole new meaning, my heart waking from a wintery dream
Flowing all throughout my soul as a river of joy merging into an endless, flowing stream
Oh how peaceful, that exhilarated moment, I could feel all of my burdens slipping away
Just to learn and understand the reason for my being, Gave me repose, a reason to say
That understanding the depth of it all, helps me appreciate what I have each and every day...
The blooming flowers in all its colorful beauty, The way that nature dresses up with ease
Belies the simple pleasure of flowing life found in the coolness of the gentle breeze
The sweetness of the songs of birds, the chirping swallows fluttering as they please
The joy of nature's grandeur in a blooming rose, how immense is my love for these...
Oh Mother Nature with all thy flourishing splendor, you are such a lovely sight to see,
No matter how tough my day or rough my life, I know that like all nature I am free,
But most of all, ever so grateful and secure in you, I know that I will always be
As a token to eternal life, like the proud dear kind Mother Pine Tree...

If you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS

To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net

Frazzled Mimi-A Poem

By Miriam B. Medina

A day in the life of a writer can be a scary thing. We get lost in our thoughts all too easily. We are consumed by reading and writing and exploring our mind. Then we look up and realize... our house is a bloody nightmare, a swamp filled with clutter and chaos. This poem is about navigating this chaos to find a place, some time and the peace of mind so that we can do what we love best-- Write!


There was once a writer named Mimi, who lived in a house far too narrow.
Brimming with stories and history, poems and words filled her right down to the marrow.
Her house was packed right to the rafters, as books and papers filled rooms everywhere,
Her two dogs, her inseparable shadows, trailed behind her as she moved here and there.
She griped and she grumbled, as she tripped and she stumbled,
Over books growing like weeds in piles growing over her chair.
The huge paper mess, that was slowly consuming her desk,
Scarcely left her enough space to move around anywhere.
Finally at long last, the place reserved for repast, was the last place that she was truly able
To sit and pen words, as they occurred, the only space open was her dining room table.
There she'd sit and she'd write, much to her delight, she worked for as long as she cared
Whilst on the counter sat still, a pile of late bills, which drove her to the point of despair.
One day she looked all around, and very sadly she found
So many things that needed and she hoped someday to repair.
Then the dogs began barking, as they heard someone loudly knocking,
The scowl on her face clearly screamed: "Vendor Beware."
Damn! It was the landlord again, come to collect the rent,
She utilized her trusty pen, authoring him a check with a prayer.
Writing the rent was not fun, she realized her plight was unfair
She had more of this clutter and mess than should be her share to bear.
She gathered herself, determined and set, to face her fate with great haste
This mess was too much, but why make a fuss? Cleaning would be such a waste...
She stopped to make a drink, and take time to think, deciding she could write ANYwhere,
So why hang around, always losing ground, to this mess always getting in her way?
PiƱa Colada in hand, she decided to finally take a stand,
Smoothing tight rollers into her dark brown hair.
'A doormat I'm not: So to hell with this lot,
I'm leaving this mess and who the hell cares.'
Cocker spaniel and poodle faithfully trailing along,
She sped merrily along, bag in hand, she raced down the stairs...
She jumped in her car, spinning wheels chewing up tar,
Never to be heard from or seen again anywhere.

If  you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS

Atta girl Mimi!! :-))))

My Elusive Bumbak-A Poem









By Miriam B. Medina


 The task of identifying ancestors is often time-consuming, frustrating and expensive. Between postage, photo copies, costly subscriptions, travel, and the rental of micro-films from the Family History Center, one can go broke without sniffing any positive results. Frankly, it requires a great deal of patience, like running in a marathon. Just when we think we've caught up with our elusive ancestors they suddenly take off, disappearing without leaving so much as a trail of dust behind them for us to continue sniffing.

Papa was my elusive ancestor. He was a mystery to all of us. As he died when I was very young, genealogy was the furthest thing from my young mind. Mama, who was Papa's third wife, didn't help matters. She threw away all his belongings and papers after he died. Even as an adult, it didn't occur to me to pursue my father's past until years later, after mama's death. I was angry with myself for never questioning mama or any of my relatives that knew papa before he died. Now they are all deceased, and the dead can't talk.


Regrettably, my elusive father,
You've led me on a dreadful chase
I thought I found your records
Yet somehow they've been misplaced...
You lived your life with your bags packed
Changing addresses and names as you went along,
In case someone might ever search for
Some proof that you were alive for very long.
I searched and searched till I had my fill
Finding no clues in Privic Luka, Argentina and Brazil
You left no trail, in spite of seven offspring's,
That I know of, and there may be others still...
The Bumbak surname is from Europe, that much is clear
And mama always told us that you were a seaman on a ship...
So either they've lost the crewmen's list over the years
Or Papa, you were too clever and gave them the slip.
Maybe you slipped through Canada,
Or one of the New England States...
But under what name did you enter,
It would be helpful if there was a date...
I'm the only one that's searching,
And dead-ends are all that I find...
But it makes me quite sad to think
Puzzled children are all you left behind.
Between history and microfilm searched,
And what little there is left of you
I'm frustrated and confused,
So what am I to do?
I find scraps here and there
On the 1920 census, an Aurora you wed,
Then came Lorenza and Mercedes,
More work to search ahead...
I know our name is on your headstone,
I've been there several times...
But yet you're still a mystery to me
And to those you've left behind...
Somewhere you must have blundered
Somewhere I'm sure you must have left a track
But if this year, I can't find you
Don't worry Papa Dear, I will be back...

If you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS

To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net

Deja-Vu: A Poem

By Miriam B. Medina

Life sometimes plays tricks on you. Sometimes you might find yourself somewhere you feel you've been before, though you're certain you haven't been. Sometimes you might meet someone you feel like you've known your whole life. Sometimes the experience can be quite unsettling, filling you with a sense of strangeness, with an eeriness that makes the hair stand up on your neck. That is what you call Deja-Vu. Wikipedia describes it as "...literally already seen. The experience of feeling sure that one has already witnessed or experienced a current situation, even though the exact circumstances of the prior encounter are uncertain and were perhaps imagined. The experience of Deja-Vu is usually accompanied by a compelling sense of familiarity." We can observe this in the following poem.


There's a certain way about you
And it's driving me out of my mind
Whenever we get together
I can see it so clearly, I'm blind...
Tell me, were you mine in another life,
In some other place and time?
It seems the same but different now,
I know we've been here before.
The passion we once shared is the same somehow
I know we've felt this before
A feeling I can't explain or ignore...
Is it Deja-Vu, or is it some fantasy
I've created in my head
All I know is that you have awakened feelings
that have been long since dead
Though many years have passed between us
and your hair and beard are now gray
You still have that boyish smile
And I? Sweet memories of all those yesterdays...
You are my dream, a dream come true.
Now my life is worthwhile
and it's all because of you.
Still I can't shake that nagging feeling
That I've known you of old
I just want to keep holding you
So this mystery can unfold.
Life with you is so exciting
You make me come alive
I know I've found my rainbow's ending
True gold shines in your eyes
Your love is like a breath of Spring
Refreshing, so young and so new
Your tender kiss says everything
It thrills me through and through...
You have my sweet caresses, and
You share in my loneliness
You wipe away my tears when I cry, and
You are my strength when I am weak
You know what to say when I can't speak
I'm flying high from what you make me feel inside...
Can you feel my heart beating fast?
How I long for this moment to last and last
And when we touch, I get this feeling
We've felt like this once before...
Call it Deja-Vu, I know we've loved before
Call it Deja-Vu, It's you that I adore
Can't you see how my heart is beating so,
How can I ever let you go?
Now that you are once again in my life.
Stay with me where you belong
Let us sing together our song,
A song as Ancient as the Nile,
As new as every latest style,
You are my
Deja-Vu

If you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS

To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net

A Student's Prayer-A Poem

By Miriam B. Medina

Most students hate exams. It's also why most people in Western Civilization learn to procrastinate as a defense mechanism, and it's why we, as a people, believe that a little effort means average and equality, which explains the popularity of reality shows these days. In view of we're encouraged to put off everything we can until the last second, when the world around us explodes and forces us to focus making us do too much in too little an amount of time. In a nutshell, procrastination is the foundation that all civilized society is built upon. We accept mediocrity from others because we sure as hell know one day, sooner or later; we're going to put something off until the last second. It's the American Way. Now, if you don't mind, there's an awesome black and white movie coming on television that I haven't seen in years. I need to go watch it! So here's a prayer I wrote, for every student who has ever attended school, and any adult who has an important report due the first day back after a weekend or after a long Holiday vacation

.
Every time I have to study,
I pray to the Lord I don't go nutty,
A computer may help me learn this junk,
But will it help me so I don't flunk?
There's so much to do,
And so much to Cram
Yikes! There's mom and dad glaring
I better pass that exam...
There's no sympathy or pity for me at all...
No where to turn, but for the study hall...
So dear Lord, please help me pass tomorrow's test,
So mom and dad will stop nagging and I can finally rest......
Amen!

If you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS

To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net

It's A Senior Dog Life-A Poem

By Miriam B. Medina

We all get older, and aging can make life difficult, even for our beloved pets. Where would we be without our pets? They make us happy. They shower us with unbridled affection. They ease our stress. So what can we do for them? What should we do for our pets as they age? How can we best take care of our pets so they have a long, fulfilled, meaningful life, in as much comfort as we can provide them?

As your dog, or any pet ages though, you have to take special care of them. Your dog goes from being your steadfast companion to a loving family member that you have to take special care of. You have to start choosing food for them that's easy to chew as their teeth rot with age due to gum disease. You have to watch their diet to ensure that they get the nutrition they need. You have to be careful of over feeding, as excess weight affects their joints. Massaging your dog will help with joint stiffness and will improve blood circulation as well. In short, you have to be an informed caregiver if you want your aging dog to enjoy his or her golden years. For whatever little time that I may have left with the old fella', I want to make him as comfortable as I can. Here is his poem, and a poem for all the wonderful aging canines out there!
.
Woof, mommy and daddy dearest
I wuv' you so much...
When my hips become painful,
They're soothed by your loving touch...
Whenever I'm hungry
You make sure I'm well fed
When I spend the day sleeping, there's always
A toy and blankets on my bed.
So soft and warm and cuddly too
It's like I'm in heaven, believe me it's true!
You know how much I like sleeping on your chair
But it's so hard to jump, there's too much pain to bear.
I walk with a wobble, like I'm wearing high heels,
My breath stinks so bad, it makes milk congeal.
Sometimes you let me lick your hands and others your face,
Even after I lick myself in every private place.
It's tough getting old, can't even hold my own mess
So I wear that stupid diaper all the time, but it's better than a dress!
So here we are, two best friends, the best that will ever be,
One thing's for sure, we'll forever have each other's loyalty.
Wuv' Buddy

If you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS

To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net

Just Me and You-A Poem

by Miriam B. Medina
.
There's nothing quite as magical as finding passion unexpectedly, throwing yourself under the spell of some potential great love. There is no thrill in the world like those associated with the joys and wonders of romantic possibilities consuming your every thought, stealing away your breath. The following is a poem about encountering just such a thrill, one like you might find in any dance hall, night club, or anywhere for that matter. Put yourself in the room, as the music steals the night, creating a mood by milking the sadness from the night stars. You're all alone even though you are in a room full of people, distraught by your loneliness, when you spy that special someone who instantly steals your heart. The heightened sensations that rob your body of its reason take over as you inhale the possibilities of happiness, the uncertainty of outcome titillates you. In a nutshell, it's what makes life great, the roller coaster ride of romance and possibility! Read on...
.
Just the other night, I saw you standing there
Swaying to the music
Lights gleaming in your hair.
I felt fantastic vibes when I saw you turn around
I felt the earth moving and the skies came tumbling down.
Found your face so fair
I wanted you
Hoped you might care.
Come on, honey, move a little closer, feel that beat so fine.
Lay your head here on my shoulder, please try out some sweet line
Let our bodies move together
Let us share this magic time
Keep on moving to the music, keep on moving all the time.
Everything about you pleases me,
It's wonderful to come alive.
I know I've found my rainbow's end,
True gold shines in your eyes.
Is this fantasy or a reality? Is this real or just a jive?
Am I victim of my illusion, entrapped by a grand delusion?
It's a lonely night honey, we may find love if we dare,
Move a little closer, show me just how much you care.
Everyday would be a new beginning, with you here by my side
In every way I will be winning, with you to turn the tide.
It's so nice to have you close to me,
Because you set the mood
Love is all around us, passion exists unsubdued.
The saxophones are sobbing, exhaling midnight air
Won't you hold me oh so close and make believe that you really care,
Your love is like the breath of spring
Refreshing and so new,
Your tender kiss says everything,
It thrills me through and through.
A magic spell surrounds us and it feels so heavenly
If you asked for my heart tonight, I'd give it willingly.
For we belong together, I know that much is true
For ever and forever, whatever,
Let it be just me and you

If you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS

To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net
.

Friday, July 27, 2012

With Time Everything Goes Away-A Poem

Expert Author Miriam B MedinaBy Miriam B. Medina

We all have friends or family members, people whom we love, who make mistakes and grow apart from us over time, but time rules us all. This poem is a plea, from any lost friend or lover, to a person they care about, a person who is ignoring their own race against time, ruining their life to gain momentary pleasure. A mistake that we all make at one time or another.
.
Eva, Where have you been all this time?
I've been trying to reach you,
You're not an easy person to find!
It's been a long time since I've heard from you,
All of your other friends have been asking too
Where has she gone? What can be wrong?
Has anybody seen her?
Eva we used to be able to talk.
Oh, do you still remember
All those times we went for a walk?
How we would laugh away in our own carefree way
All those troubles that bogged us down
Now those times will never come again
For you have changed so much, my friend.
I hear you're running around with every man in town
So what will you do when there's no longer arms waiting to hold you?
How will you feel when all those memories come to taunt you?
Every night alone, staring at the phone,
Oh girl then what will you do? What will you do?
Life is what you have lost, my dear sweet friend
To me it shouldn't matter where you are going
Or where you have been.
You say: Please don't be concerned for me,
I'm living fine in all my luxuries,
Doing grand, really I am!

So you've sold your soul for pennies
Just to live a life of ease
But you can't fool me, Eva,
Living your own masquerade.
The tears, you hide with laughter
Protects a heart yearning for love,
So before you turn away, hear what I have to say,
'Cause I'm speaking friend to friend
With me you never need pretend.
I'll always love you to the end.
You only have one life to live, so try to live it right.
One day you'll find yourself alone, waiting by the phone,
Wishing for someone to call and say I love you.
So tell me girl, then what will you do? What will you do??
Eva, who will share your laughter and your tears? Who will quiet all your fears?
Who will caress you in the moonlit darkness, erasing pain gained over the years.
Time goes by so quickly, it makes us ignore yesterday
Eventually everything goes away.... Memories of youth and passion fade.
Then you'll feel weary, old and tired, like an exhausted horse whose time expired,
And whether you're ready or not, eventually time loves us no more.
Because with Time, everything simply goes away.
We might win battles but we all lose the war.

If you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS

To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net

Catch Me If You Can: The Elusive Star-A Poem

By Miriam B. Medina

Everyone has some dream or desire to achieve success or fame, and many pursue artistic careers. In Manhattan's theater district, the most famous theater district in the world, you'll find many of these dreamers, starry-eyed young aspiring actors, dancers and singers, portfolio in hand, swarming the area seeking auditions in the hopes of securing that fame and fortune. Because it is such a heavily populated area, the transportation situation has been a problem for years. Cars aggressively force their way through the streets without giving any thought to pedestrians or other vehicles. There is congested traffic, there are horns honking, hostile pedestrians screaming and waving their fists, and brake's screeching everywhere. So many people from the whole theater district discharge at the same time, like a swarm of bees, the famished theater-goers attack the nearest restaurants to find something to eat. The young aspiring dancer starts to feel like a football player, navigating the masses to find the end zone, only to be blocked by a strong singing voice and musical instruments penetrating the air. How exciting, a free show is being exhibited by striking amateur sidewalk entertainers, offering musical talent for meager donations. The masses surround the entertainers. Screeching to a stop, the young aspiring dancer drops her portfolio and opines: "Oh No! I'm late... this can't be happening! I had such a tough time getting this far. Now what?" She slips the papers back into her portfolio sighing heavily, slumping her shoulders, staring at the ground, lost, shaken and discouraged. The STAR of fame once again eludes her. Too bad, honey, maybe next time. Let's explore her journey.
.
Hurry up, hurry up, I've got to catch that train
Time is moving fast, I"ll miss my chance to fame.
Hey Mister give me space, or hurry up your pace.
I got a fantastic chance, to dance in a famous Broadway show..
Oh, I could make it, if you'd shake it, PLEASE get out of my way.
.
All this hustle and this bustle,
Is driving me crazy, WHY today.
It's an opportunity to dance for a great company you know!
.
A chance to gain a fancy name
As I dance my way to fame
So I can Act like a celebrity
And live like spoiled royalty.
.
Move aside, who has died?
The line continues to grow long.
It's too late, to take a taxi,
Or a helicopter, oh it's all wrong,
.
I never should have stayed,
To talk with Mrs. Gray
Or brought in clothes for Mrs. Klein
Oh, I could make it, if you'd shake it, PLEASE get out of my way.
.
All these troubles, I'm seeing double
A Drink would be welcome on this day
OUCH, Lady, please get off my toe,
You're not very slim or small you know!
.
I can see you have a healthy appetite
And please take your kid off of me,
That little monster, he just kicked my knee.
Ouch! And now I think I feel his bite.
.
Oh! Why do I feel, as if nothing is going my way.
Are the facts revealing, that perhaps it's best I stay
But I've come so far, to reach that star,
Oh, are all my hopes in vain?
.
Will today's dreams become yesterday's?
No, I could not bear that pain.
Here it comes, oh yes, the train is pulling in,
To save my dreams again.
.
Maybe my luck is turning,
The Wheels of fortune I will spin
I will make it, so don't mistake it,
Bright tomorrows I will face
.
No more sorrows, no need to borrow,
My star will soon shine up in space
See I told you so, what do you know?
The world is now mine to embrace.

If  you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS

To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net
.

SAYING IT POETICALLY-INDEX OF POEMS

.
INDEX OF POEMS

Source of Inspiration:
.
 .
 .
 '
.
Boobala Darling Wins a Cruise: Par5 of 9 (A Fictional Story Staged in Brooklyn) by Miriam B. Medina 

 Boobala Darling Wins a Cruise: Part 6 of 9 (A Fictional Story Staged in Brooklyn) by Miriam B. Medina

 Boobala Darling Wins a Cruise: Part 7 of 9 (A Fictional Story Staged in Brooklyn) by Miriam B. Medina

 Boobala Darling Wins a Cruise: Part 8 of 9 (A Fictional Story Staged in Brooklyn) by Miriam B. Medina

 Boobala Darling Wins a Cruise: Part 9 of 9 (A Fictional Story Staged in Brooklyn) by Miriam B. Medina
______________________________________________
.
.
Source of Inspiration 




Want to Follow that Dream? Then Set a Goal and Make it Work 
_____________________________________________

5. No More Blues In My Soul-A Poem
.6.With Time Everything Goes Away-A Poem

Source of Inspiration
.
______________________________________

7. Just Me and You: A Poem
.
 _________________________________________

8. It’s a Senior Dog Life-A Poem
Source of Inspiration
Aging Gracefully: It’s a Senior Dog Life.

 Having A Dog Can be Fun When Raised Properly
.
______________________________________
9.A Student’s Prayer-A Poem

Source of Inspiration
.Why Students Hate To Take Exams
.
______________________________________

 _____________________________________


11. My Elusive Bumbak-A Poem
.
_______________________________________


.
Source of Inspiration 
.
_____________________________________________

15. When Love is No Longer there-A Poem

 Source of Inspiration 


 How to Stay One step Ahead of Mental Depression Part 3 of 3
__________________________________________________


                                                             Source of Inspiration

___________________________________________


Source of Inspiration
.__________________________________________

SAYING IT POETICALLY-Introduction


"POETRY IS THE MUSIC OF THE SOUL, AND ABOVE ALL, OF GREAT AND FEELING SOULS."


 First and foremost there are two questions I would like to Explain.

I THE REASON WHY PEOPLE LIKE POETRY.
.
Some people like poetry because they admire the life lessons that they can give or that they love or they like the stories they tell. Poems are little capsules of life, snapshots of slices of time described with words, not taken by a camera. For this reason, anyone can relate to a poem, it describes a feeling, an emotion or a scene, but leaves the details open to the mind of the reader. For this reason, many people like poetry because it is often based on the writer's emotional response to something, but it's a response they can relate to, so it also invokes an emotional response from the reader.

FROM START TO FINISH HOW DID I GO ABOUT PULLING MY POEM TOGETHER?
 
I get my inspiration from life itself. As a singer/songwriter in past years, most of the subjects of my songs were people that I interacted with on a daily basis. I am an excellent observer, which is an important tool for any artist, so I glean inspiration from participating in and observing life itself. This keeps me on my toes, always at the ready with a pen and pad in front of me, ready to go when I'm inspired by things to write about.
 
Before I wrote poetry I wrote song lyrics. Here's how I did it and what I looked for:
 
A. Find a theme or a subject to talk about in order to create a mood, a picture or a feeling.
.
B. Set the stage for that subject. Like 'what is happening at that moment' or 'what is going to happen next'.
.
C. Focus on who is the main character, what he she is feeling at that moment. 
.
D. Think of ways to awaken the imagination, to capture the reader's attention so they may understand and react to THE WORDS I wrote.
.
E. Express my feelings in regards to what I'm writing about.
.
F. Define the mood, is it happiness, sadness or anger.
.
G. Find a means to tell that story, be it rhyme or free form.
.
H. Find a rythym. Song lyrics are poetry set to music. Many times when I sit down to write a poem, I find myself humming a tune to the words in order to create a pattern. It works in a lot of areas. Sometimes I just write down my thoughts, like I am in a situation and am thinking out loud, without rhyming. just writing it as it flows. 
.
I. Edit and proof my work. When I finish the poem, how does it visually look? Does the overall look impress? DOES THIS  poem tease the reader, awaken an interest IN them to come back for more? If not, how do I fix the poem so that it DOES accomplish this feat.

Miriam B. Medina loves nothing more than sharing what she learns, creates, thinks about and writes with everyone she can. So be sure to check out her INDEX OF POEMS which she has written.
 
  •                                                          SHORT STORY

You will also find next to some of her poems, articles and a short story: CLICK HERE:  "Boobala Darling Wins A Cruise,"

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Bon Voyage - A Poem


By Miriam B. Medina
.
Myrtle Weinstein was Boobala Darling's childhood friend from when they both lived on Myrtle Avenue in Brooklyn. Myrtle married Henry Rosenberg. Boobala was her Maid of Honor, and then Boobala married Harry Darling. Myrtle and Boobala kept in touch, even though they had gone their separate ways throughout their lives, at least until Henry died in a tragic car accident. Regardless of the fact that Boobala was enduring her own share of unhappiness with Harry, she immediately went to comfort her dearest friend Myrtle. From that day on, the bonding of friendship was re-ignited, until Boobala faced her own tragedy in regards to Harry. No matter what, they still kept in touch with each other.
.
Hello, hello, Myrtle,
You better hold on to your girdle.
I've got good news for you
I just received a telegram
That said I've won a cruise
I can't believe it Myrtle,
]It's like a dream come true
Oh what am I to do?
Now I'm really worried
'Cause I've nothing new to use
I need a bra to lift me up
And a girdle that will keep me tucked,
Some fancy clothes and jewels to wear,
They'll be some hoytie, toyties there.
I'll have to act like I'm stuck-up,
To do all this, it takes some bucks.
Oh I'm going on a cruise
'Vat the hell do I care if I lose,
Some money from my bank,
Gas is useless in the tank!
Money I've simply been saving
For a rainy day, or something that I'm craving
It's an offer that I can't refuse
that is why I am going on a cruise.
.
Oh I'm so excited, Myrtle,
Will you please take care of my turtle?
And don't forget to pick up my mail too?
In case the landlord should need the rent,
I'll leave a post- dated check with you.
I can't believe it, Myrtle, can this cruise be really true?
I know It will be a tremendous fun,
Will my Prince Charming be there too?
Oh, to feel his touch and dance away,
To get lost inside of his eyes,
Will he make me sigh and sway,
Will he make me heave and cry.
To hear his words, so dear to my ears,
Instead of growing old, I'll grow young in years
Oh Boobala, stop the dreaming and wake up.
It's time to go shopping to spend those bucks
Oh I'm going on a cruise
'Vat the hell do I care if I lose,
Some money from my bank,
Gas is useless in the tank!
Money I've simply been saving
For a rainy day, or something that I'm craving
It's an offer that I can't refuse
that is why I am going on a cruise.
.
My dearest friend, Myrtle,
My life has been nothing but hurdles.
What would I have done without you?
We've been friends for such a long time.
First your Henry, then my Harry,
Those were rough times we went through
I'll miss you so much Myrtle
I wish you could go with me on this cruise.
Hey, there's still time to book a passage
Please say you won't refuse?
Bring fancy clothes and jewels to wear,
You know the hoytie toyties there!
We'll flirt outrageously with all the available men,
Ruffling the feathers, of their mother hens.
Forget it Boobala, cause I'm not going.
See, your bags are packed to overflowing
You're the one who won this free cruise,
I don't want to tag along, to be amused.
Keep your money in the bank,
The money that you've been saving
For that rainy day, or for
Something that you're craving.
It's an offer that I must refuse.
Because it's you who deserves this cruise

For more Poems see INDEX OF POEMS
.
to Contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net



Tuesday, July 17, 2012

FOR THE WOMAN WHO IS PLEASANTLY PLUMP: THERE IS HOPE FOR ROMANCE.

By Miriam B. Medina

Women are extremely self-conscious of their bodies, especially after having been married for years and bearing two or three children. Many become genuinely depressed when they glimpse themselves in the mirror and realize how much weight they have gained. What they see is harsh reality, a reflection of lumped, rolling flesh. Breasts are now fuller, butts appear larger, and cellulite thighs have the appearance of bubble wrap. Their self-esteem becomes even more deflated when they compare their bodies to the younger, more beautiful women showing off their shapely figures in their hubby's supply of Playboy's. How will she ever hold his interest in the bedroom and keep him from straying with that competition? She has to cook, clean, raise children, do laundry and hold her share of the financial burden. Now she needs a complete make-over to become a sex object for his pleasure? Is he worth it?

Some may subject themselves to a regimented routine of exercise and diet in an attempt to regain their youthful 18 year-old figure, while others try so hard but can't seem to get past first base.  HOWEVER, there are countless men who are quite satisfied with their well-endowed woman, grateful for her sumptuous flesh, while others prefer a much leaner woman. How a man makes a woman feel about her body during sexual intercourse can either increase or destroy her self-esteem. This will also reflect in the way she dresses. If her sex life is a disappointment, she will see herself as undesirable, which will make her hate her body more. By virtue of her modesty she will expose less of it. Standards of modesty not only discourage exposure of the intimate parts of the woman's body, they also obscure her shape by convincing her to wear non form-fitting clothing. On the other hand, if her partner says after a moment of sexual passion that she was hot and steamy in bed, she will flaunt her sexuality, to the point of immodesty. Here is a video that I came across that I found to be quite enchanting. It's called LA GORDITA which means the Chunky one or the Fat one. The man who is in the video has no qualms about enjoying his GORDITA.

To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net

Please let me hear your comments.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

No More Blues In My Soul-A Poem





By Miriam B. Medina

At some point in life, we all lose in love. Whether it's that first crush that breaks us, or it's puppy love or it's the real deal that introduces us to the blues, to live is to love and to love is to lose. Losing at love hurts to the core. They say it is "better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," but when you've got the blues, that saying doesn't help the pain much. But getting the pain all out does, sharing the pain with others does, and there's no better way to get the pain out or to commiserate than to sing or hear the blues. So to all those that have loved and lost, here's my heartfelt pain so we can share it and get better, move on to better places. So sit back, turn down the lights, put those shades on and lets get rid of those blues!
.
The night is still young and there's nothin' to do
But sit around and waste my time, just waiting for you.
Time is too important to waste on any one thing
But for you I waste time like a clock with a broken spring.
It's just another night, like so many others,
I keep playing the same old songs.
Deep down I know that the feeling's gone
Something's been wrong for far too long.
I called your home but you weren't there
I searched for you, looked almost everywhere,
Again the night has come and I'm in despair
Because I know somehow you've gone away.
My friends keep sayin' to me, open up your eyes and see
How he's making a fool out of you.
Yes, he's everything you ever dreamed of, except true
Now, wait a minute, I said:
"You're out of your mind,
Our love's so real, it could never die."
But even then I knew deep down inside...
that you've been lying to me all the time.
My friends keep sayin' to me, girl you're so naive
Hanging onto dreams that are dead and bone dry
You're so blinded by his talk and his charm
You better wake up because life's passing you by.
Just dry those tears and come back to life
Truth is, if what they say is really true,
Then I've been wasting my life and my time over you.
I loved you but you left me for somebody new,
Now I hate you for leaving and being untrue
I must get over the feelings I've developed for you
Can't wait forever baby, Time to find somebody new.
You'll never toy with my heart in this life again
The pain you've caused me still lives deep within.
I'm through with hurting behind these tearful eyes
I can't fake keeping a love alive once it's died.
I hope a hurting is laid on you because you've done me wrong!
I don't want you back here ever knockin' on my door!
Don't you think that I'll be waiting like I always have before.
I just won't believe your lies so please don't even try!
Let me tell you honey, I won't play the fool anymore,
That's right I won't play the fool anymore.
Don't you ever toy with my heart again
The pain you've caused me still breathes deep within,
I'm through with hurting behind tearful eyes
I just can't fake keeping a love alive once it's died.
At one time I thought that your love was so true,
but now you have left me alone and confused,
I'm packing my bags, taking the first train that leaves the station,
I've had enough of sadness, enough pain and frustration.
Oh, there's a great big world out there and
I'm gonna find me someone who cares
That's right baby, I'm gonna find me a real man.
I'm gonna take from him whatever I can get.
It won't be more or less, I will choose what is best
And I'll live like I've never lived before
I'll find me another man who will love me as much as he can,
No more blues in my soul or taking my life like pure gold,
No more blues, no more blues in my soul.

If you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS


Tuesday, July 10, 2012

WOMEN IN ART-6

Artist name: Al Jarreau
 Artist name: Al Jarreau
Artist name: unknown
 To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net

Monday, July 9, 2012

Princess Louisa and Lord Michael of Everwood-A Poem

by Michael Walsh (2011)

Whisper my name,
... Gently breath me into you;
A beat, your heart shall miss,
A gentle ripple, shall your soul caress
Call me, and unto you I shall come,
Close your eyes and wish it be,
I will hear, and be with you,
Into my arms, I shall draw you,
And hold you close.


Contact info: miriammedina@earthlink.net

The Ballad of Lady Arden and Lord Michael of Everwood.-A Poem

By Michael Walsh and Co-Author Natalie Moore (2011)

Let the stillness of the night cover me.
... And the stars above light my way.
Black sky as far as i can see.
And hours before dawns new day.
Let the mist caress my bare body.
And your lips kiss me everywhere.
I feel love in this place we're in.
And know joy because you are here.

My lips shall drink that mist.
While my arms will draw you near.
With my body as a shield to you.
You never need know fear.
As my lips leave dappled marks across,
Near to your lips and far.
My lips will draw deep into me;
The sweetness of your nectar.


Contact Info: miriammedina@earthlink.net
.

TABLE OF CONTENTS-Walsh (23)

POETRY

1. Mature Love by Michael Walsh

2.  The Ballad of Lady Arden and Lord Michael of Everwood. (2011) by Michael Walsh and Co-author Natalie Moore

3.  Princess Louisa and Lord Michael of Everwood  (2011)

4. Season's Wisdom by Michael Walsh

5. A Poem by Michael Walsh

MATURE LOVE-A POEM


By Michael Walsh ( From Australia) 1976

Not the love of old people,
Not the love that has lingered for years,
... Not the love of two at first sight.

A love which has developed,
A love based on mutual understanding,
A love where each shares all.

Not the love of physical attractions,
Not the love of mental infatuation,
Not the love merely for its own sake.

Mature love is that of heart, of mind,
And most of all, of one's soul.


Friday, July 6, 2012

Boobala's Lament-A Poem

By Miriam B. Medina
Expert Author Miriam B Medina
There was a woman who entered every contest, every sweepstakes that she could find. All she wanted to do was win a vacation, to get away from the rigors of daily life. She filled them out endlessly, tirelessly, wasting countless hours hoping beyond hope she might one day win her dream vacation, until finally she gave up hope, until the one day she answered the door and received a telegram telling her that she'd finally won a cruise.
Picture the scene: 45 year-old Boobala of Brooklyn, NY filled out entry forms for all kind of sweepstakes for many years, especially anything involving a free cruise. Ticked off because her life was miserable, Boobala is an habitual complainer. She complains about everything, including her dead husband Harry, who was a born loser. He left her penniless. She is brooding on her fate when the doorbell suddenly rings.
Ring, ring, ring, I hear the doorbell ring!
It's probably Nosy Mrs. Grimes,
Who gossips all the time,
She thinks that I have nothing else to do!
She smokes, I choke, that lady is a mope,
She should stay home and clean her house
Or at least try to find herself a loving spouse,
(Giving me and my neighbors a break too!)
I have enough to keep me busy, but my life is very dull
I could have lived in high society, but then I
Went and married Harry, who had lots of debts to carry,
Then he dies and leaves me living with his Uncle...
Why can't I be a lady of leisure
Living in grace and elegance,
Marry a rich man who'll give me pleasure
Cruises, diamonds and romance?
.
Work, work, work, I'm such a stupid jerk!
I could have been a movie star, with all my talent I'd go far,
And have my pick of all those gorgeous men...
A fling, a fling, just a quick romantic thing,
Don't want a man whose breath will smell,
Who snores away the night and gives me hell.
Who thinks that I'm his nurse and also his mother hen!
I need someone who's strong and sexy
Am I hoping for a miracle? I hope he's not a bum and lazy,
Or I'll end up with another Harry, bringing me MORE debts to carry
then He'll die and I'll end up again with harry's uncle yet AGAIN.
.
I'm ignoring the doorbell, whoever it is can go to hell,
It's more bad news, I'm oh so sure,
Just let me complain a minute more
About this life that brings me only heartache and pain.
"Alright already, I'm coming,
Just a minute. JEEZ.. You'd think I just won something,
Like you have a million bucks to give me this morning,
Just who the hell is dropping dead, tel me and scram
--Who is it?
"Why it's a telegram, Ma'am,
I have a telegram for you."
OY, OY, OY, a telegram for me? Don't know if I want to see...
With such miseries one after the other I'm afraid to give a look.
.
Win, win, win, why can't I ever win?
For years I've filled out all those entry forms
I'm so tired of waiting, my dreams are worn
Should I persist or give up all those hopes for good?
Romance and dance, I wish I only had a chance
But who would love me the way I am, anyway?
With all this weight, only an amazing man
Would look beneath and take me as I am.
I would like to remarry if I could.....
I want someone sexy with nice hair
Who will find me irresistible and fair,
As long as he's not a lazy worthless gambler
Or I'll have another Harry, who will give me debts to carry
Then he'll die and I'll end up again with Harry's uncle one more time.
Oh why can't I be a lady of leisure
Living in elegance in good measure,
Marry a rich man who'll give me pleasure
Cruises, diamonds and romance.

For more Poems see INDEX OF POEMS

To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net



Memories A Reminder of the Past-A Poem

By Miriam B. Medina

There have been many extraordinary moments in my life,
Magical moments that have taken my breath away
Strongly etched into my mind permanently
Becoming an integral part of my memory.
Memories that never seem to die
Are a constant reminder of the past
Stumbling and losing itself in a field of other memories
Finding its way into the wilderness of my mind.
Then I can roam through them in my own sweet time,
I can't help but reflect on them now,
These moments that once existed between us,
Life was beautiful back then.....
We talked and laughed about so many things,
I can still remember the petty quarrels, without reason or rhyme,
These quarrels that are the little puzzle pieces of love
Which lasted until the early dawn.
Falling asleep exhausted, only to be awakened with a kiss
And the steam from a hot cup of coffee,
Moments where we kissed and made up passionately
Engulfing your body with my love as you engulfed me.
You made me to believe beyond belief
That a love such as ours had never existed before then,
That the world lay at our feet,
As it forever would.
I would leave your side, only to
Spend the day thinking of my return,
And it always seemed as time might stop
As I anxiously awaited that exhilarating moment
To be once again in your arms, wanting to know you better,
You were always as interested in my life as I was in yours,
Our love was so strong and seemingly permanent,
As we continued to dream on and on...
You promised that nothing would separate us,
Meaningless words tossed about in the wind,
Lost in the silence of the night, drowned in the tides of time,
Isn't it amazing how time has passed us by so quickly?
There is no time to think of yesterday...
Ah, it's such a pity that those moments will never return again,
The nights in remembrance remain only a memory
A fleeting, fading stain on time.
The apartment which we cherished, where I learned to love you
Is now empty of all we shared, filled only with my rejection,
And in spite of all the wrong that has happened,
No one has loved you or ever will love you like I love you.
If you only knew how much I miss those times
Those living moments that we shared together,
Those winds have ceased and no longer caress my shores,
Leaving solitude as my constant companion.
Love never lasts forever, once its gone it's gone, and you, where will you be?
With whom will you share your laughter and your tears?
Who will love you as much as I have?
Who will caress you in the darkness?
Who will feel the pain of your love?
Who will you share your dreams with?
Sadly, there is little left to say.
Beware my love, there are many out there just like me.
Those that are also lonely, because there is always a chance.
A chance that someone else will take your place
Dreams? There are no more dreams to hold onto.
So if you really love me, it's best that you return.
If you don't, then why should I bother
Holding onto a love that isn't shared?
I will let them float away, back to where they belong.
Let the waters flow and wash these bitter memories away.

If  you want to read more poems see INDEX OF POEMS


To contact: miriammedina@earthlink.net

Sunday, July 1, 2012

WOMEN IN ART-5

artist: Unknown
Artist: Unknown
Artist: Unknown
Artist: Unknown

WOMEN IN ART-4


Artist: Uknown 
Artist: Karol Bak
Artist: Karol Bak
Artist: Unknown

WOMEN IN ART-3

Artist Name is: Pascal Chove
Artist Unknown
Artist: Jia Lu