Bloomin' Weather

This lovely blooming mornin’,

Then in a flash it started pourin’

Across the area, rain came through

Like a quiet, invisible flu

Stare out onto the courtyard tree

Wish for sun, turns into a plea

White pedals fall to the ground,

Wet and naked, without a sound

Branch let loose the delicate

Like a lie, reluctant to admit

Strong will survive, multiply

For its summer dress to apply

Even Dead Men Play Chess

I recently finished reading Even Dead Men Play Chess by Michael Weitz, and recommend it to anyone looking for a good mystery. Michael’s debut book captures you from the start when 7-year old Erica Minor needlessly dies under the care of her meth parents. Michael used his knowledge of chess to create and unravel a murder mystery.

Ray Gordon, a cop who ended his career after a fatal shooting, drives to Yakima from Seattle to visit his friend and chess student, Walter Kelly. When he arrives, Walter’s son informs him that Walter died, but Ray doesn’t accept that it was an accident. Ray’s cop instincts kick in and he finds himself looking for clues to prove Walter’s murder.

Michael keeps you guessing until the very end, and throws in a little romance to stir things up. Don’t pass up Michael’s debut novel. Go to your nearest bookstore, or online site to buy, Even Dead Men Play Chess by Michael Weitz. You won’t be disappointed and might learn a thing or two about chess. Congratulations, Michael!

For more information about Michael Weitz and his debut book, please visit Michael’s website.

Come on in and Critique

That's right, come on in, grab an ale, soda/pop, or coffee, read and critique. I wrote this short, short a while back and thought I'd post the first two paragraphs for critique. Do they capture your interest? Would you want to continue reading this story? I'm leaving it up to my blog audience to give me a *thumbs up* or a *thumbs down.* Now take a seat in this lovely pub and let me know what you think.

This morning I woke a different person. The first thing I noticed was the loss of smell, those morning fragrances, such as body cologne embedded in the sheets. But today, nothing! Even when I made a conscious effort at sniffing the air, my nose felt empty, yet my chest rose and fell like an anchored boat. When I attempted to let out a moan, it seems my voice ended its relationship with words. Something wasn't right. Over night, my life turned into a silent movie.

I flung the covers off with my deadened flesh against the fabric. My toes curled to hug the floorboards still nothing left a lingering affect. What happened to my senses? Am I still sleeping? This fear should make my heart rock out heavy metal in my ears, but my head and chest only performed a lullaby. I ran to the washroom and got in the shower hoping to wake my senses from their frozen state.

Alphabet Stew

All can remember

Before age took over

Childhood an ember

Dismissed the ogre

Eventually mature

Fables fade to reality

Good heart once pure

Hopes express sexuality

Idiosyncrasies made cruel

Judged by everyone

Know not to fear school

Learned about handgun

Members Only jacket

Nuptials, Hopper and Phillips said

O’Neal’s Love Story romantic

Pop Rocks, Coke, you’re dead

Quarters used with beer

Rotary phones of the past

School House Rock revere

TV channels increase fast

UVA rays always warned

Valentine’s day, lovers observe

Willy Wonka reborned

Xanax used to calm nerves

Yet through our evolution

Zippers still remain a solution

So Long Ago, Yet Seems Like Yesterday

“Like you were saying you’re not sure exactly what you want to do in life right now… I know whatever you choose, you’ll be great at it… Hey babe I love you soooo much you couldn’t imagine… you’ve got a lot of talent, you just need to realize it… Start realizing you’re a unique individual and you’ve got a hidden quality better than anyone else… The most important thing is I Love you lots, and remember! I’ll always be here for you!!”

My cousin, Ann Renee wrote these words to me on March 6, 1987. Words I never really took the time to hear and act upon. She was wise for just being shy of 19-years old and it saddens me that Ann didn’t get a chance to do what she wanted to do.

Today, Ann Renee would turn 41-years old, born on Easter Sunday, but her life was cut short on May 27, 1987. Ann died of Meningococcal Meningitis 6 weeks and one day after her 19^th birthday. I’ve wondered how Ann’s life would have unfolded. She had unique looks with olive skin, dark brown hair, light green eyes and loved by many. In May, it will be 22-years since she died, but those years of separation haven’t made me forget. I still talk about Ann Renee remembering the things we did along with her cackle. At the back of the bus, we sang David Cassidy songs on the way home from pre-school and through our grammar school years family referred to us as “the pretenders.” Our imaginations ran wild with so many make believe worlds.

Although we’ve lived apart longer than together, I will always remember your smile, laugh and I think about you often, sometimes bringing me to tears.

Happy Birthday, Ann Renee, my cousin, my friend, and my guardian angel. I miss you with all my heart, but I know you’re in good hands. Celebrate well!

To learn more about Meningococcal Meningitis, click on the World Health Organization.