Ignorance: find relevance in today.



Tilton, New Hampshire
Tilton, New Hampshire

I am in awe of my own conformity.  My own complacency.  My avoidance of charity and awareness.  I had heard/read this story about two months ago.  I chose to not write about it.  I consciously understood that by not bringing to the attention of greater minds…my readers, I would be deceiving my own true beliefs.

True belief in the idea that…I should not wait until an accident happens…before I put my own personal stop sign up.

 I frequent this particular area, of Concord,  from time to time, with my dogs.  Usually it is to let the dogs out, off leash, and, allow them and the Soup Kitchen attendees, to meet.

Many of the homeless once owned animals…and, as is typically the case, have had to surrender them or give them up, due to lack of funds.

What bothered me about my lack of forthcoming…my need to please?

I knew down deep in my heart that whether my writing about this absurd tragedy…would increase knowledge and perhaps, change…I also toyed with the idea that perhaps, the article would not be readable or pleasing to the eye.

Shame on me.

Everyday, for several days, this story has entered my morning meditation.  Yet, I sat and let it go.  Why is it, as humans, do we sit and let…wrong, immoral, acts go?

I’ve researched, current day, if a deal has been struck in relation to this man.

This man who whether good or bad; has he received any posthumous acknowledgement.  I’ve yet to come up with anything permanent.  Vague small articles have been written.  Nothing much physical done!

I did not know this man who passed.  Whatever his history, it should not matter.  At the time of the incident, he had been an innocent man.

find relevance in today
find relevance in today

‘After all, there are two aspects of ignorance, one of peace as well as, one of torment.  I have always sought the first; but the tantalizing Goddess persists in showing me the second.’

-Gamaliel Bradford

Homeless Man Struck on I-393 Passes Away

Gene Parker, 62, was hit on Jan. 28, while trying to navigate his wheelchair on the Interstate due to snow blocking the sidewalks.
Homeless Man Struck on I-393 Passes Away

CONCORD, NH – The homeless man who was struck on I-393 in his wheelchair while trying to roll from South Commercial Street to North Main Street has passed away due to his injuries.

Gene Parker, 62, died on Jan. 31, 2016, with family and friends at Concord Hospital.

Parker was hit at around 7 p.m. on Jan. 28, on the eastbound side of the Interstate. Friends had rolled him up South Commercial Street and were behind him when he was hit. Parker was taken to Concord Hospital with serious injuries, according to comments made by family and friends on Facebook. The highway was closed for a number of hours as the incident was investigated. Neither alcohol nor drugs were factors and no charges have been filed against the driver, according to Concord Police.

Parker, according to online records, was a registered sex offender, having been convicted of two felonious sexual assault charges in 2001. He was previously convicted of theft, trespass, violation of a protective order, and duty to inform. He was trying to turn his life around after years of alcohol abuse, according to press reports, and had repaired relations with at least one of the victims, a family member, according to an advocate. In 2010, before he was paroled, Parker requested to be kept in prison in order to be better prepared for release, according to an Associated Press report. He lost his limbs due to frostbite and during surgery last week, lost more of his legs and had two collapsed lungs, due to the accident.

During the past few days, many in the homeless community and their advocates have been angered that the sidewalk– the shortest route between The Friendly Kitchen and North Main Street – has not been cleared. The night after the accident, numerous people grabbed shovels and began clearing the sidewalk themselves, according to a post on Facebook. The city, however, maintains that it is an Interstate highway system and should not be used by pedestrians even though there is a sidewalk there. The agreement with the city, as part of the site plan review, also states that the soup kitchen would work with the state to make sure the sidewalks were cleared.


the Women’s Room



To the,  eloquently, predisposed…this is how the story goes.

We judge you with a whispered tranquility and taste.

But when mindful of self, there is no saving grace.

Alone with loathing lonely.

Autonomous bouts of being dowdy.

the womans room 2


upon pondering…



is something you will never see…

dear Goddess, please take care of ME.

Outwardly, we touch the world with heart and hope,

style and vision.

But with reflection we prefer self detention.

the womans room 3

What of these sacrifices to the Mother…

honor her to no other.


How savage am I when not using love as the daily guide.

A daily mirror predicts distorted images…

deliberate disdain…

a horrified internal self inflicted pain.

How can vigilant charity  be a womanly way.

How can I be when self hatred begins the day.

the womans room 4

So I ask the reflection,

what is the deliverance of self.

the womans room1

It is a different kind of danger.

One that cannot always be answered…by others.

As unique as the times past.

With a spell of mockery to the present.

Most always with frequently weighty anarchy.

the womans room 5

Dear Goddess, upon a morning’s reflection…

help me to be mindful not judgmental.

Help me to be mindful not judgmental…let the peace begin with me.


Afrin and my Irish Mother

Duck and cover
When the big one drops…make sure to assign guilt!

Jezebel threw open the sash that had held her tiny little life together.  With the sweat of the night before and/or the heat flashes that seemed to encompass her daily routine…the Bell of the ball…felt the wind being sucked from her sails.

‘This fuckin’ cold is kicking my ass.  Today!?  Today!  Is the last day of the rest of my life!’

What with a 100 degree temperature, a swollen big toe, one runny nostril and a handful of other ailments…one of which being, potty mouth and potty bottom…

With all these small but increasingly life threatening ailments, Jezebel, knew the end would be coming soon.

Common colds are for commoners.  This particular cold was much different than all the others for the very simple reason…Jezebell was prone to the dramatics in life.

What had made her careen from the bed to the window…with the speed of a cat in heat?  The bi-yearly visit to dear old grandma Jeze’s tomb!

Today had been the day to end all days.  Today Jezebel, Sister Lelah Catherine, Mother Sarah and Jezebel’s partner in crime and in the bedroom…Meghan, would be churning up the old Volvo station wagon and pointing it toward the badlands…commonly known as, Massachusetts.

Yet, as Jeze, stood milling over her short life…how her obit would read…

…a fellow sister has fallen today.  Gone by way of the heavens.  Leaving behind a lifelong legacy of self fulfilling prophecies…a writer by day, lover by night and guilty as sin every hour in between…

…Jeze, succumbed two days ago, to a 36 hour illness known as the common cold!

Not only did tears well up in the eyes of our heroine.  A memory, a deju vu, a recollection of the night before and it’s dreams crept up and reminded her of guilt and it’s true and far reaching legacy.

They had been traveling at the lightening speed of 45 mph.  Meghan had been at the helm.  Up snug and close to banging her contact lens on the windshield…Meghan had only just received her license 2 years ago.  After several failed attempts and one bad hot coffee spill!

Of course, Meghan had been the obvious choice… to make the long trek down to the armpit of New England…the suburbs of Boston.  The two other co-pilots straddling the bench seat were less likely to get the group to it’s destination than they were in receiving a book of matches, a map and a reward…if they could navigate their way out of a corn maze!

Sister Lelah had been warned by her doctor to lay off the cosmetic braces.  That she had been wearing adult braces for so long…they could possibly be responsible for the good sister’s lack of common sense.

And, Mother Sarah?  Well, Jezebel’s mother had needed help getting her acceleration leg in the car since she was diagnosed with Shenanigan Syndrome.  An old malady, handed down from one catholic female to the next.  Often confused with the following term; SPELL

‘Oh, the good sister?  Well, she had a spell!  No other way to explain.  One leg went out from underneath her, than the next and well, the last thing I remember, her dentures flew across the lawn.’

And, of course, due to the simple fact that Jezebel has thrown theology out the proverbial window…in exchange for the Goddess.  Jeze found herself entombed in the back.  Arms crossed delicately on the upper torso.  Ankles crossed virgin-ally…on the lower torso.  Between living between sin and homosexuality...made your’s truly a prime target for the dreadful sniffles.  Jezebel was indeed death warmed over.  And, make no doubt about it, her tawdry ways coupled with guilt, were key ingredients to this boiler maker cold!

Sneezing and coughing and spewing.  Jezebel had been the season’s first victim to the common cold.  Her only hope?  The hidden bottle of Afrin…placed beneath the chains that held her wallet in place…

Current day, Jezebel, shivered from the memory, the dream.  Had she concocted the whole scenario?  Did her mother, as in the dream, denounce the Afrin demon with ten rounds of the Our Father, five rounds of the Hail Mary and a promise to never scratch a sweepstakes’s ticket again!

During the hysteria!  Her partner, Meghan driving recklessly arguing with Sister Lelah Catherine on the proper arrangement of ‘thongs’ while being wheeled away by EMS...Sister Lelah texting her new found love, a virtual IGO (image generated object)!  Igo declining to take the relationship to a new level.  The Sister debating the pro’s and con’s of sex one handed!

Amid the bad karma, playing heavily in the background, Brand New Key, by a little known artist named, Melanie!

Turning from the window, placing the day in order.  Placing the nightmare in a box of pinky sized laughing BuddhasJezebel took a hit off her pipe, shook the air our of her head and took two good tugs of a bottle of Afrin.

Slowly she made her way downstairs.  Readying herself for the tormenting phone call that lay ahead.

‘Hey, Mom, it’s me…I know I promised you.  But I’m too sick to go anywhere.  Can we go to the Cemetery next week?  I know, I know…you’re disappointed!’


Known to cause paralysis from the neck down.  No known cause.  No known cure.

Common symptoms:

flighty behavior

immobility of brain cells

road rash


Age of onset: 15 yr., in catholic/irish/females

Forgiveness…a self portrait

Forgiveness…a self portrait

forgiveness 6

Pain had been pestering me, one week. Than as suddenly as he had appeared. He was just as quickly…gone. Near the very end of the last hour of the seventh day, of my self-imposed misery, I happened upon Pain’s B.F.F., Despair. I asked Despair, “Where did Pain go?”

Despair, sadly stoic, stated, “Pain turned into Hate and left town.”

With disgust and envy in my voice, I begrudgingly said,

“That’s a shame. I hadn’t found the time to forgive him yet!”

Forgiveness, you strange beast.

Looming above, awaiting the feast.

forgiveness 4

Survivor to trial and tribulation.

Goddess knows of your salvation’s motivation.

Sometimes a different sort of anger precedes and proceeds me.

A branch begotten by the tree.

forgiveness 5

That smell.

That aroma, unmasked.

Black licorice in a rusted flask.

Amending or amends.

Pretending or amen.

No forgiving

Know forgiveness.

No intolerance

Know tolerance.

forgiveness 1

Why do I procrastinate over the act of forgiveness. When I should be jumping in to it with eyes closed. As though it were a clear mountain stream on a humid summer day.

‘Oh, to be granted amnesty by the hater who once had been hated…the judge who once was judged!’

Self Mastery Blog

A complete guide to actualizing your potential


Shop Toys for your loved ones , Read reviews and find best toy for your loved one

Local Bajan

All About Barbados


You're always one decision away from a totally different life


Autism-spectrum-disorder, posttraumatic stress disorder.. autoimmune.

Pick Me Up Poetry

Music | Literature | People.

Zepiskye homemade

Blogs recepies, crafts, photography,hobby's

Simply Beauty Blog

Angie's Beauty Blog


TheCertifiablyTRUERavingsOfASectionedPhilosopher: Don't be afraid to think you might be a little 'crazy'. Who isn't? Check out some of my visualized poems here: https://www.instagram.com/maxismaddened/

%d bloggers like this: