Monthly Archives: January 2014

Hope you like this Photo–Not literally, but, actually, or would it be the other way around?




hseplant xmas tree


“Leon” Link to Scientific American Blog

“He Was In Heaven Before He Died” Lyrics by John Prine

There’s a rainbow of babies
Draped over the graveyard
Where all the dead sailors
Wait for their brides
And the cold bitter snow
Has strangled each grassblade
Where the salt from their tears
Washed out with the tide

And I smiled on the Wabash
The last time I passed it
Yes I gave her a wink
From the passenger side
And my foot fell asleep
As I swallowed my candy
Knowing he was in heaven
Before he died

Now the harbor’s on fire
With the dreams and desires
Of a thousand young poets
Who failed ’cause they tried
For a rhyme without reason
Floats down to the bottom
Where the scavengers eat ’em
And wash in with the tide

Repeat Chorus:

The sun can play tricks
With your eyes on the highway
The moon can lay sideways
Till the ocean stands still
But a person can’t tell
His best friend he loves him
Till time has stopped breathing
You’re alone on the hill

Repeat Chorus:

Thank you to


Silent Solitude With Memory So Close

Lumbering bare limbs

porcelain plump long bones

luminescent, in last

summer’ setting sun

Gentle bear

shy conquest

Did you know

I felt like a warrior

chieftess making a treaty?

Shadows under your eyes

from a long week

tolerating my company

made them round

Your eyes glowed

quiet, understated

I feel the most

zen at your side,


a moment’s slipping by

catching in timelessness

the presence of us

Like naked 

on the woodtrail

You open my mouth

I hear your words with my arms

I see your legs with my ears

and I walk on your shoulders

dissolved in our moment

Always in these moments of ours.

We wouldn’t feel

more advanced experience

if we had lifetimes

to collaborate with science.

by Vicki V. Jones


Smoking On Campus

Under the streetlight where campus is deserted,

parking lots tucked in for the night,

he senses he’s been duped.

The tired, timid teardrop, the jaded lethargic

self-awareness under empty spotlight

addresses shadows in silence.

Curling climbing cigarette draught

beams like a whispering bush.

In spite of warm air, his nose

and fingers have numbed up again.

The precursor of resolve is pushed back so far

as avoids inexplicable defeat.


The cresting breath of a brother’s car is a timely rescue.

As curtains close on unnoticed stars,

he’s forwarded on wheels of newfound friends.

Tentative-clutch adulthood is a  shifting chariot

for the tribe of invincible memes.


Young men in need of telling secrets

of innocence and fear

do not invite revealing things,

when things to hide become equally true.

He trembles with longing for passion

for fighting words, to

Broadcast that HE IS a failed State

that he seeks asylum to betray his own orders.

He has to be the only one now facing the grave.

He laughs with wild eyes

shaken like a spicy suspension

adding his savory slice

to the communal

youth salad.

Then he prays

with clicking mitral valve

that smoking

not be as hazardous as it feels,

that faith which doesn’t turn back time

nor vanquish demons

imperceptibly cobble him again

like a house gnome

night after shame-denying night

as long as it takes,

and that money won’t be a problem.


Each of them will be alone on the dark side of campus

paralyzed like the deer in headlights

hoping soon to be caught up by tribesmen

and hidden away from the spotlight on their fates.

By Vicki V. Jones


Daily Prompt “Happy” A Poem

The rays of happiness, like those of light, are 
colourless when unbroken.


One of her



sitting on

an old junk front seat

left for months

in the car port

holding a genuine

steering wheel

her babies


in the back



weather conditions

pressing on

through rising water



a marching band parade

awesome inner silence

detours and hospital trips

facing the summer sun,

and in season

vegetables from the local

Mimosa tree.

Would her babies

ever learn?

Her favorite


was giggling

without stopping.

(There were times

when the same face

made her cry.)

Her favorite

work caught her up

like a runaway horse.

Her favorite topic

was happiness

at first when

falling in love, but

was never

a favorite pastime.

One Year’s blog behind me, Another waiting to begin

I have been blogging a year now, exactly a year, with today being the final day of that year. And up till now, I have been seriously searching myself.

Although I have no idea really which parts of my self- search ended up being expressed in the blog, I’ve examined multiple facets of life related to my conscience such as the following:

  • My credo
  • My sense of the Golden Rules
  • My Responsibilities to those I love
  • My willingness to broaden my mind as I consider other people’s credos
  • How I deal with moral dilemmas
  • My level of responsibility as a group member, even in a big group, such as the population of our planet.
  • This list could drag out for pages.

 Anticipating my next blog, which assumes that I have found answers to my most pressing questions of conscience, here are some of my dreams, if not yet goals for this new year:

I want my new blog to come to life. I want it to reflect my own passion for life and represent my life’s passion. I think my life’s passion is writing.

I tend to see negativity in society  almost every day. In my blog, I wish to acknowledge this as well.

I want to show in my blog that I am working hard to process my life experience. What my work may lack in entertainment value, it may make up for in candor.

I hope that there will be times that my honesty might seem courageous. But, when it does, I hope that my hopeful confidence proves out in good time, that honesty needn’t have fear in the first place, at least not in USA.

100_5813 - Edited

My high aspiration is to do my own annotations of Books of the Bible.  I can’t begin to comment on this other than to say that I believe that anyone raised to be a true Christian might think the same thing, when in the prime of life one can no longer deny that every part of life, including Holy Books, is opened for interpretation. In addition to this great work I want to enjoy keeping a regular posting schedule with entries such as the following post ideas:

  1. I think I will install features maybe three a week, on topics so meaty I will not have to give much comment. One topic might be “thoughtful quotes.”
  2. Another might be recipes from my torn-up cookbooks.
  3. A photo series might be, Stuff I own.
  4. Somewhere along the way, I would like to try to write fiction. If the year is a good one and my confidence grows, I hope to feel good enough about my writing to begin to consider a way to make money with it. However, whether or not I get that far is not the point.

What I really want is to inspire more people to blog, to blog fearlessly, honestly. I want to be a part of freedom of speech that serves the original purpose of speech, to agree on meanings that help us learn from one another. To do that, we must first come to understand how we are all the same. Once we do that, discovering how to analyze our differences becomes a respectful exercise full of mystery and wonder, without need for fear.

 I hope to continue to connect with the same kind of people I’ve been so blessed to experience this past year. These are people who make blogging come alive. The passion of these people would be hard to miss. I have felt honored by the attention they have given my efforts this year.

  (NOTE: I will continue to write in this blog in the same manner that I always have.  I feel comfortable here.)