tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84170216661948052392024-03-13T07:08:22.448-04:00A. J's Soprano NotesWhat the heart knows, it sings. Find here the songs of my heart...Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.comBlogger296125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-64325208914830479512015-12-11T20:38:00.001-05:002015-12-11T20:38:48.665-05:00Vince Vance & The Valiants - All I Want For Christmas Is YouTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-74697346634737149682015-10-28T03:31:00.000-04:002015-10-28T03:31:38.355-04:00The Truth“All we can do is arm ourselves with what we know to be true…our feelings”
I got this snippet from a profound but much longer comment made by a character in some television show I was watching. I wasn’t quick enough to get the whole of it, and because I wasn’t home with my own TV that I could go back to the spot and listen to it again, I lost most of it. But it was enough to get me thinking… Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-69878146352840733062015-10-28T02:59:00.001-04:002015-10-28T02:59:11.317-04:00High School Reflections, 2When we left Barbados in the summer of 1974, I was devastated.
All my friends were there, and I understood myself in Barbadian terms,
although I was also well aware of my expatriate status. I was not,
however, the only expatriate in the school. In my class alone, I was
one of four ex-pats. Betty Martinez, a brilliant student, was
Trinidadian. Robin and I were Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-59123409453463485552015-10-28T02:54:00.006-04:002020-04-23T17:03:54.898-04:00High School Reflections, 1I’ve been looking into my
past, specifically my high school past. And among other things, I found
out there is an association for alumni for the high school that I went
to for five of the seven years of high school in Barbados. It was a
girls’ school when I went there (it is now coed, and no longer at the same site). I’ve been looking around, trying to
find things about Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-56221467758331184152014-08-10T23:22:00.001-04:002014-08-10T23:22:50.110-04:00"High Hopes" Frank SinatraTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-55892750461349475982014-07-12T20:00:00.002-04:002020-04-23T19:08:18.406-04:00Yeah...You!
"I might be a little bit in love with you."
You look around.
"Yeah, you. Is that so hard to believe? Or is it just distasteful to you?"
You shake your head.
"Don’t worry. I’m not asking you for anything."
You smile.
"Really! I’m not. Nor am I expecting anything. I’m no fool!"
You gaze at me silently.
"You always were the quiet one. And you know what Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-76944512794884129942014-04-27T21:12:00.004-04:002014-04-27T21:12:48.882-04:00Blank Spaces (A Collaboration)(A collaboration between a friend on Tumblr, Peregrine (http://youreyesblazeout.tumblr.com/) and me.)
It’s not as though there isa right or wrong wayto fill in this blank space.It’s not a quiz.And yet,it says so muchthat I see “lost”,and you see “luckiest”.What does it mean?I see the hole.You see the donut.I am yin.You are yang.I am the blank space.You fill me in.We are interconnected.It isn’t Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-1578002840271285722014-04-13T11:22:00.002-04:002014-04-13T12:48:37.220-04:00Orwellian, or Right is Wrong"When"? Say rather
"If"…and my word,
What an “if” that would be!
And then, of course,
There’s that whole
"Right place" thing…
Where IS that, anyway?
Obviously, then,
When the wrong turn
Gets you to
The right place,
It was all
A HUGE mistake!
Surely you see that?
If it were truly
A wrong turn,
The end would be dead…
Like those cul-de-sacs
That take you round
In circles, back
To where youTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-69323428662637642772014-04-12T21:21:00.002-04:002014-04-13T11:27:04.855-04:00Shitkicker
I am not that girl
Who does as she is told.
I am not a girl.
Funny how some men
Seem to forget that,
And expect obedience,
Consent, submission
From someone like me.
I may not be in your face
But that isn’t a sign
That I’m downtrodden.
Go ahead,
Raise your boot.
You’ll see…
I’m not under it!
~ KDB
Copyright 2014
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-9743969221457956922014-04-11T20:42:00.002-04:002014-04-13T11:25:04.616-04:00
Source: http://distantpassion.tumblr.com/post/81331711338
Toccata
Everything about this greyscale piano —
from its keys like uneven teeth,
in need of more than brushing
to remove the dust and decay
that years of mistreatment
and neglect have caused —
to the space it occupies,
all bricks and mortar, rough-hewn,
cold and under-used,
bespeak a painful loss.
No music warms the cold places
in Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-45926105289845650662014-04-09T00:32:00.001-04:002014-04-13T11:23:53.739-04:00Time
Kenny Chesney is one of my favorite country artists. He sings a song titled “Don’t Blink” about the swift and sure passage of time, and the necessity of making the best use of the years you won’t even notice slipping through your fingers. I quote a few phrases from the lyrics for his song, along with a link to it on YouTube.)
Kenny Chesney sang it…
"Don’t blink!" he sang,
his Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-83714209325919241502014-04-07T16:47:00.001-04:002014-04-13T11:28:31.527-04:00Writer
I am a writer.
This is not a “Eureka!” moment by any means. No light bulbs flashed,
no lightning forked across the skies inside my mind, no thunder boomers
rocked my inner landscape. It came rather more like an inspiration, a
wisp of air on a breeze of thought, as I was composing other things,
thinking other thoughts, being who I am so often afraid or ashamed to
be…a writer.Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-75687308050664027412014-01-07T21:31:00.003-05:002014-01-07T21:31:40.955-05:00Pieces of Me
I let myself care
Too much,
And little pieces of my heart
Lay scattered,
Like broken shards of glass
Across the world.
For every one I’ve shared
My love with,
Small or large,
They take me with them
When they go,
And I am less
For their departing.
When will I
Finally
Disappear?
When there is no more
Heart left
To share.
~ KDB
Copyright 2014
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-87730095647638162452014-01-04T20:47:00.001-05:002014-01-04T20:47:04.830-05:00She-Devil
She spoils the men —young and old —with whispered words of want and need,blown in through their earsinto the bloodthat flows directto where they cannot keep themselves aloof.She rips awaytheir feigning calm,their raging ego,their raw machismo,and shows them the real,open wounds of lustthat fester with desirefor her ravenous mouthfor her flaming touch.
She steals their souls —empty of will —andTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-34981035112726174332014-01-01T11:22:00.003-05:002014-01-01T11:22:59.754-05:00Happy New Year!
May the year bring joys to balance out the sorrow, peace to calm the
conflicts, and love to destroy the hatred. And may you find yourself,
at the end of every day, glad to have found a friend, and perhaps a
confidante, and anything else you may need, in me! Be blessed, all of
you!
Love and hugs,
KTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-61983098032885940602013-12-23T23:35:00.000-05:002013-12-23T23:35:33.625-05:00And If I Could
And if I could,
I’d drown myself
inside the sweetness
of your kisses.
And if I could,
I’d lose myself
within the fire
of your passion.
And if I could,
I’d leave myself
inside the shelter
of your loving.
~ KDB
Copyright 2013
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-620979851562308292013-12-23T23:32:00.004-05:002013-12-23T23:33:02.927-05:00Hunger
Hold me,
just like this,
willing,
tender,
strong.
Cherish me,
just like this,
calming,
claiming,
dear.
Love me,
just like this,
completely,
absolutely,
forever.
~ KDB
Copyright 2013
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-74848331906239899492013-12-23T23:28:00.001-05:002013-12-23T23:28:48.183-05:00In a FogCloudy eyes
that cannot see clearly
the words on the screen.
Cloudy mind
that cannot see clearly
the light in her smile.
Cloudy heart
that cannot see clearly
the beauty of her soul.
~ KDB
Copyright 2013Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-30183832553225840122013-12-23T23:10:00.001-05:002013-12-23T23:10:02.102-05:00StareI’d like to be the oneat the end of thatheated stare,burning from its wildintensity.I’d like to be the oneat the root of thatpointed look,thrilling to its sharpattentiveness.I’d like to be the oneat the start ofthat naked stare,open to its rawdesperation.
~ KDB
Copyright 2013Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-59484802857547881612013-05-11T14:20:00.004-04:002013-05-11T14:24:00.023-04:00Audio Blogging?My friend Nigel posted a link to his new page on Sound Cloud, and I went to visit. He has recorded part of his newest novel on there, and suddenly it came to me, as I listened to him, that I could record myself reading my poetry and some stories there, too! I've done one. I wrote the poem I read below on April 16, the sixteenth poem I had written for NaPoWriMo, which was the Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-26741488272133929962013-04-19T08:05:00.000-04:002013-04-19T08:05:03.381-04:00Solitaire for TwoHe was standing over me, waiting for me to make the next move. I shifted away from him, not wanting to be touched or watched. I studied the cards, then shifted the ace of hearts to the two of hearts.
"Why'd you do that?" he demanded. "You could have made two moves instead of one, if you'd..."
"Look," I interrupted tightly, "It's called 'Solitaire' for a reason!"
I gritted my Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-68054751585649724522013-03-24T19:51:00.003-04:002013-03-24T19:53:22.135-04:00Fiction in a Flash: "Oh hell!"
The
lights blinded her. They swirled around, dazzling her eyes. She
squinted and sat up. What the hell had happened? Where the hell was
she? Why the hell was she cursing 'hell' all the time? Where was Dirk?
Her eyes tracked over to the glasses, and the sight brought it all back. Oh hell! Dirk!Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-32372922549448316962013-03-24T19:50:00.002-04:002013-03-24T19:52:14.256-04:00Fiction in a Flash: "Arousal"
He
looked at the single rose in the bud vase and felt his body harden.
The delicate pinkness of the petals, kissed by crystal droplets, brought
back the memory of their time together. He saw her lying open, ready,
offering herself.
He touched a trembling finger to a drop, and sucked it into his mouth.
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-7230836372459503272013-03-24T19:01:00.002-04:002013-03-24T19:01:48.100-04:00Fiction in a Flash: "The Plan"
Counting
down the hours, she watched the boat chug upriver. When Evensong ended
in the great Cathedral -- she sighed for the loss of the songs -- she
would slip through the flood gates down to the water. The boat, and her
freedom, would be waiting. Hefting the market basket, she trudged back
to her scullery Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8417021666194805239.post-16923485973837437102013-03-16T13:31:00.002-04:002013-03-16T13:31:25.108-04:00Kiss me, y'all...
Edit This Post
...I'm 1/8 Irish!
God
bless my sainted great grandmother, may she continue to rest in peace.
I met that old lady -- she lived to be 104! -- but I was just a wee
bebae in arms at the time. My mum has a picture of her and my great
grandfather, who looked to be African, posing in the typical Victorian
way...she on the chaise with a mob cap covering her Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14672278682816247353noreply@blogger.com0