Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Day President Kennedy Was Shot

The Book Depository Building in 2005
In 2005, I visited the Book Depository in Dealey Plaza, Dallas to walk through the area where life changed for so many of us 1963. When I got back to my hotel, I took a few minutes to write down what I remembered from that day. I am sharing those memories now, as we pause to reflect on the 50th Anniversary of the event.

August 2005
I've just returned from Dallas, where I visited the infamous site of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. As I stood there, watching the everyday traffic passing over the red X's in the road at Dealey Plaza, it brought me back vividly to that day.

I am not sure what day of the week it was, but it was a school day, and I was an 8-year old student at Our Lady of Miracles Catholic School in Brooklyn, New York. The school was the brand new pride of the neighborhood, expanding each year, with my class advancing each year as the school grew. The principal of the school, Sister Dominic Marie, came into our classroom. There were 65 of us, in plain uniforms and neat rows of desks. We stood up when she came in. She hushed us and told us that we were all going over to the church to pray, because President Kennedy had been shot. She reminded us that as the oldest in the school, we had to set the example for the younger students. She didn't need to remind us that the President was Catholic, the first Catholic president, ever, and that as Catholics our prayers were desperately needed. Inside the church Father Simonetti led us in earnest Catholic prayer, including the rosary. I remember being terrified- sure that nuclear bombs would start dropping from the sky next. But the prayers went unanswered, as we were told that the President was dead. We were dismissed from school and sent home to our families.

For me, that meant walking several blocks alone, getting on a city bus, and riding to the stop around the corner of my house. As I left the schoolyard, I could see that our nuns, the source of discipline and strength for us students, were openly weeping.

I don't remember the walk or the bus ride home. Just turning the corner onto my street to find my mother and all of the other neighbors standing in groups on the sidewalk. Most were crying. To see all the important adults of my life crying frightened me even more.

Excluded from the adult conversation, I was a silent witness to my parents' shock and grief. The world seemed to collapse around me. The President was gone, my parents were inconsolable leaving no one to protect me and my young sisters. All the "duck and cover" practice in school came back to me, I was sure the end of the world had come.

In the next few day no bombs fell, a new president took over the office, and eventually I went back to school. The horror slowly faded from the front of my mind — in that respect my young age protected me from the greater implications of the event. Years later, we would visit the Eternal Flame in Washington, DC and I would cry, thinking of the President's children, so close to my age, now fatherless.

Now, on the 50th anniversary of the event, I still have a hard time grasping the global implications of that day, how it may have altered the course of history and changed the very fabric of American society. All I know is that after that day, I had no doubt there was evil in the world, and it had no concern for country, position, innocent youth or respected age. It could strike from the sky and change the world in the blink of an eye.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Free Children's Kindle book for Halloween

October 30, 2013 - November 3, 2013

Get a free version of "The Rainbow Pumpkin" for Kindle. Download the free Kindle Software to view on your computer, smartphone, tablet  or ereader.
The Rainbow Pumpkin

Or, to order a print copy that contains a coloring page for your child to design their own Rainbow Pumpkin, go to Noreen's Digital Dreams.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Free Short Story for the Halloween Season

A free short story to put you in the Halloween spirit. Download free iphone or android app to read.

Monday, October 07, 2013

Commuter's Query

Every Morning on the Way to Work

Oh, silver-gray Altima,
you of the quick-sounding horn
and leaden foot,
who passes me on a double yellow line,
do you know of yonder speed trap
in this strictly enforced zone,
and are you just a high risk gambler
playing the odds each weekday morning
risking not only citations
but head on crashes on the blind curve?


©2013 Noreen Braman

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Stalking Sixty

Reality is buzzing in my ear like an aggressive Asian tiger mosquito — attacking me day and night. Since I turned 50, I have been moving along, enjoying midlife. However, with the reality of age 60 creeping up over the horizon, I realize, that unless I live to be 120, this is no longer midlife. And that realization has made me anxious and scared. Suddenly, the period at the end of my story is no longer a 10 book series away. Hopefully, it won’t be the one at the end of this blog entry.

The year I turned 50 I wrote a blog devoted to that year, and among the rants, raves and complaints about current events were a few, carefully hidden essays about growing older.  Fears about becoming the neighborhood “crazy old lady,” thanks to the Supreme Court for categorizing people my age as a protected class, and snippets about memory loss and never being able to retire. It was a basic thumbing of my nose at age 50, and a fierce assertion that I was still a cool, hip and savvy person, keeping up with technology, trends and popular culture.

All that was pre-menopause, pre-grandmotherhood, pre-falling in love and pre-glasses. I refuse to say pre-wrinkles because with all the stuff I use on my face, there had better not be any wrinkles now. At least ones that I can see without my glasses (my preferred way of looking in the mirror).

Almost 10 years have gone by, and I find myself still wondering what I am going to be when I grow up. And perhaps that is a good thing. Growing up, in a sense, means reaching some sort of pinnacle, and you know what is on the other side of a pinnacle? A sharp drop. So, I will accept growing older, but fight getting old with every creative bone in my body. Laughter, poetry, art, love, friendship and family. My grandchildren may have to hang Nanny’s artwork on their refrigerators or read bedtime stories that Nanny wrote.

Years ago, my nephew told his mom that I was “always smiling.” If that is what I am remembered for, if laughter is my legacy, then my story can end with an exclamation point. But not anytime soon, I’m stalking sixty.

Friday, September 13, 2013

For Seaside Park, Whose Boardwalk Will Rise From the Ashes

I originally wrote this poem in high school and illustrated it years later. Then, it was a description of a lonely boardwalk carousel in the winter. Today, it reflects the intense sadness I feel after watching the Seaside Park boardwalk, including the building that housed a historic carousel, burn to the ground. The fact that this area has been ravaged by Hurricane Irene and Hurricane Sandy and now this fire only deepens the pain for all.
©Noreen Braman




Wednesday, September 11, 2013

9-11-2013 The Memorial


The Memorial

In the flowing water I see them walk
a slow procession against the granite
gray and featureless
some striding on long silvery legs
others wrapped in flowing dresses and robes
moving along the visible sides of the memorial
disappearing as they leave my view
replenished by others
flowing into line
and moving in fluid silence.

9-11-2013
© 2013 Noreen Braman

9-11-13 Twelve Years

9-11-2013

Twelve Years

How quickly the day goes
hours slip by
a bell tolls in remembrance.

An arrow of pain
cutting through the workday noise
a voice in despair
struggles to read a name.

The work gets done
the coffee grows cold
how quickly the day goes
twelve years lived from dawn to dusk.


©2013 Noreen Braman

9-11-2013 Never Forget



Never Forget.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

40 Years of Running on the Hamster Wheel


Greetings to all of those 1973 High School graduates out there. Ours is a class that graduated at the dawn of the Information Highway and many of us helped pave the first miles of the road. Some of us took other roadways and now look at the proliferation of electronic mayhem in confusion and distrust. However, the classes behind us have increasingly embraced this new world and fly around in cyberspace like the Jetsons in their space car. For me, grabbing onto the tail of this dragon has allowed me to put a roof over my head and food in my stomach for many years, despite the best efforts of the American economy to starve and de-shelter me.


In the 40 years of my adult life so far, the amount and cost of consumer goods and living expenses has accelerated at an exponential rate.  And I know that I cannot be the only one who feels she has been on a giant hamster wheel all this time, running at top speed and getting nowhere.

It is true that we have an “embarrassment of riches” in this country. I own a house and a car (well, as long as I keep making the monthly payments). My house is an electronic playground that includes several computers and a large television. My smart phone is my constant companion, and I am entertained by an assortment of music players, eBook readers and digital cameras. In many ways, I am living in the bright, shiny future portrayed at the 1963 World’s Fair. Yet, not too far from my front door chronically jobless people are hanging out on a corner, there are transient homeless people in the woods that border my town, and the abuse of drugs and alcohol continues to destroy lives right in my neighborhood. To complain that, at 58 years old, I am still living paycheck to paycheck does pale in comparison, and I cannot even comprehend the more horrendous conditions in other parts of the world.  But aren’t there big, important people who deal with that? Great minds focused on improving life for all? More often, it seems that those in powerful positions are fighting with each other like, Godzilla and Mothra, and we are the tiny people on the streets of Tokyo, trying our best to not get stepped on.

My children are grown, and having children of their own. They are embarking on their own years of adulthood.  I wonder, after 40 years, will they look back, wondering where the time and money went and worrying about the next 40 years. Will they have broken out of the hamster wheel existence or just traded it in to become drones in a giant hive of worker bees?

Yes, it sounds like doom and gloom, and we can give in to that.  We can, and will, bemoan the fact that life is difficult, plans don’t always work, bad things happen on a daily basis and the money is never enough.  It is therefore, incongruous to see people smiling, to hear them laughing, to watch them dancing and generally acting happy. Or is it?

Look at it this way. That hamster wheel is the only one you are going to get. You can paint it black and let it squeak until the noise drives you insane. Or, you can decorate it with shining moments of your life, open it up to family and friends, and laugh in the face of its unproductive movement. You can run on and on, waiting for happiness to fall down on you from the sky, or you can actively seek and create happiness. You may have to start off by fooling your brain by acting happy before you actually feel it. You may have to smile even though you don’t feel like it. You may even have to find some other people to help you wrench that happiness back up from the hole it has fallen in, but do it.  The future generation of worker bees is depending on you to show them the way.

Monday, May 13, 2013

WordNerdGirl Writing Prompt Response: Hounded

In reponse to today's writing prompt at: WordNerdGirl

Hounded

Quit following me,
I'm not your leader
I'm not your mother
I'm not the pack leader
I'm not your role model.
At least, not when I'm in the bathroom.

©2013 Noreen Braman

In response to opposite day writing of today's horoscope:
See if you can get your friends or colleagues to follow along as you make your way through today’s exciting events — some may lag behind, but the ones who stay close are in for quite a ride!

Thursday, May 09, 2013

WordNerdGirl Writing Prompt Response In the Hall of the Guarded Welcome

In reponse to today's writing prompt at: WordNerdGirl



In the Hall of the Guarded Welcome

We don't know in whom the monster lurks,
he or she may have just walked in,
ready to sit and chat about
whether or not the monster exists.
Emboldened by education and fancy suits,
brandishing a sharpened sense of entitlement,
all must pass through our doors,
but we do not know in whom the monster lurks.


©2013 Noreen Braman



Tuesday, May 07, 2013

Writing prompt response: The Tao of Facebook

My friend and fellow writer over at WordNerdGirl is putting up some writing prompts, and I am going to do my best to keep up. This first challenge is to create some lines of poetry that come out of your facebook or twitter postings. I actually found a complete thought that reads like ancient wisdom. Please take time to contemplate.

The Tao of Facebook

Wow! New moms take note!
Look for the sign!
At the end of the day
the Derby is all about the horses.

©2013 Noreen Braman

Wednesday, May 01, 2013

NAPOWRIMO comes to a close. April 30, 2013 Grown

Grown

No longer saplings, the trees are grown
strong and supple, reaching high
above their supportive roots
that cling confidently to the earth,
not needing to see the sunshine
or hear the rain and thunder
to know the trees are thriving,
blooming more prolifically
with each spring renewal.
They bend in winds that break the old,
and shelter life within their branches,
sending their acorns, their chestnuts,
their double samaras spinning in the wind,
creating seedlings that someday
will suddenly be full grown.

©2013 Noreen Braman

It has been a fun and adventurous National Poetry Month. After letting them ripen for a while, I'll harvest this group of poems and see what I can turn them into. Thanks for coming on the journey with me!


Monday, April 29, 2013

MAPOWRIMO April 29, 2013 Seminar Pyramid

Seminar Pyramid

come to my seminar, workshop, conference
hobnob with the hottest in your field of expertise
listen to how we all prospered so much
we just had to share
our secrets with you, down at the bottom.
For $50 or a thousand
in person, online, or DVD,
we'll change your perspective, your paradigm, your process
to something as magical as we
and soon you will generate leads and sales and clients,
who will come to your workshop for a fee.

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 28, 2013 Inertia

Inertia


The less done, the less done,
the more chair-ified, the less done,
the more same old same old, the less done,
the less force applied, the less done.

the less done, the more resistance,
the less done, the more to do
the less done, the more stupefied,
the less done,  the more energy needed.

The more done, the more done,
the more movement, the more done,
the more speed, the more done
the less time, the more done.

the more done, the less unfinished.
the more done, the less in waiting,
the more done, the less pile-ified,
the more done, the more energized.

©2013 Noreen Braman

Saturday, April 27, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 27, 2013 Mom's Poem 1989


Inside a box that hadn't been touched in years I found a time capsule of 1989. Some toys, some hair clips and a small notepad in which I had scribbled poetry and other thoughts from mid 1989. Here, with some slight editing, is one of them.

Mom's Poem 1989
After Eight

After eight, the magic fades,
as children pass in slow parades,
protesting sleep with loud tirades —
this repeats every night.

After eight, I'm getting shrill,
my patience level drops to nil,
can't wait another minute 'til
these children go to sleep!

After eight, at last they dream,
their peaceful faces gently gleam,
reflecting back a pale moonbeam—
I tiptoe past their beds,
and kiss their sleeping heads.

©2013 Noreen Braman


Friday, April 26, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 26, 2013 elixir vitae

elixir vitae

broken, bruised and barricaded behind
stone; a solitaire of solitude sworn
against any attempts at attracting
love; a lacerated, lonely life
until: unheralded, unsung and unexpected,
he healed my heart.

©2013 Noreen Braman




NAPOWRIMO April 25, 2013 The Goddess in Traffic

The Goddess In Traffic

The driver behind me is singing,
her smiling face awash in morning sunlight,
she could be Pandeia, visiting earth,
exuding youth and health,
her slim hands keeping time on the wheel.
As the song ends, she reaches down,
soft curls falling over her forehead,
as she brings her hand to meet her lips
and takes a drag on a cigarette,
evaporating into the sacrificial smoke.

©2013 Noreen Braman

Thursday, April 25, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 24, 2013 Night Songs

Night Songs

Moonlight pushes aside the curtain, liquid silver pooling on the bed,
still cold and yet, the mockingbird sings from high on the branch of a budded tree.
Underground the cicadas stir silently, knowing their time is soon,
another full moon their birth herald, their song overwhelming the night.
Still, in liquid silver, lovers will add their voices to the symphony,
no point to sleeping while nature fills the night with sound
that makes the moonlight quiver.

©2013 Noreen Braman


I am still a day behind, but will keep on going.



Wednesday, April 24, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 23, 2013 Acrostic Instructions

Instructions

Live for the glory of each day
always striving for gentle thoughts
understanding that hurt comes unbidden
grow as plants do, toward the light, keeping
happiness as your goal.

©2013 Noreen Braman

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 22, 2013 Falling

Falling

Apart is the direction in which things fall,
beads from a broken string,
clattering to the floor,
scattering under furniture.
rolling into irretrievable crevices,
some to be found years and years later
when the rug is pulled up
the house is torn down,
by then just a hint of what once was joined
together in the direction of which things are made,
beads adorning a wrist
learning the moves of the dance
earning praise for flexibility
grasping the life ring
in case down is the direction in which the ship goes.

©2013 Noreen Braman

Monday, April 22, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 21, 2013 Mom Always Said

Mom Always Said

A day late and a dollar short
is how my mother always described me.
But if I have to hurry,
it increases my worry,
sorry Mom, I just gotta be me.


©2013 Noreen Braman

News from the Smile Side of Life Laughter & Happiness Club. Read my newsletter, sign up if you want, and don't forget, the next fun meeting is Wednesday, April 24!

Saturday, April 20, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 20, 2013 A Puzzle Poem

Puzzle Poem

one
two three
four five six
seven eight nine
ten eleven twelve
thirteen fourteen fifteen
sixteen seventeen eighteen
this is as far as I can go.
why?

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 19, 2013 Facebook Status Found Poem

Many thanks to WordNerdGirl (check out her wonderful poems for NAPOWRIMO) for seeing the poem in my facebook status, giving me a poem for April 19 as I continue to struggle with sickness and lethargy.


Facebook Status Found Poem

Just woke up
from a feverish nap
to see it is all over in Boston
and they got the guy alive.
I would cheer but I can't talk
- can't get up and dance either,
so just clapping weakly.
Now back to sweaty sleep.


©2013 Noreen Braman

Thursday, April 18, 2013

And a reminder we all need right now...


NAPOWRIMO April 18, 2013 Dorset Street

Dorset Street

Affordable row houses, built by Fred Trump
on land once a paint factory,
in the shadow of the Brooklyn Union Gas company.
Populated then by immigrants from Sweden
and Ireland and Holocaust escapees,
a street with plentiful menorahs and
a scattering of Christmas trees
and sidewalks alive with postwar children
on bicycles, roller skates and saddle shoes.
Old country plantings with topiary hedges
sprouting in soil that often turned over
in spadefuls of yellow and blue.
An alley of adventure where someone
raised alligators
and the Park Ave Rich Lady
visited the trash cans with a baby carriage
salvaged items deposited in her limosine.
In dreams the street wavers
from unchanged to unrecognizable
the house is reoccupied but the family
can no longer navigate the streets
or recognize the neighbors,
the sidewalks are naked without children.
Reality not quite as radical,
the real estate ads show all houses intact
the tudor facades removed
the stained glass square of sailboats gone,
the old country gardens and manicured hedges
have given way to brick and iron gateways
and the ad says at #243 there is a jacuzzi
in the bathroom.
And the son of Fred Trump builds palaces
in Manhattan, eclipsing the work of his father
while Dorset Street carries on
with a populations indiscernible from the people-less
photos on Google Earth,

that reveal the neighborhood
contains the oldest house in New York State
something neither Fred Trump nor the throng of post war children
was ever aware of.

©2013 Noreen Braman, a child of Dorset St.



Wednesday, April 17, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 17, 2013 Lyrical Delirium

Lyrical Delirium

Fever, fever, burning bright
all through the long New Jersey night
when will I once again feel right?
to hell with the poetry, give me some drugs.

©2013 blah blah blah blah blah

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April16, 2013 At the House of Found Poetry

At the House of Found Poetry

At the house of found poetry
exists a litany of unfinished stories
bound together by artifacts
gleaned from psychological storage bins
encrusted with gems and dust.
Unsychronized chiming clocks
randomly call out the hours
each a clanging reminder
of something left unsaid.
Pointless pencils lie in wait
to tell tales of ages chronicled
in the layers and layers of lyrical words
guarded jealously by the dragon
who cannot read.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman



Monday, April 15, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 15, 2013 Reflections in a Broken Mirror

Reflections in a Broken Mirror

All I can see is the blood on the sidewalk
smoke in the air, death in the wind.
The dream of shattered glass
spares none, despite the hiding,
the praying, the running.
I awake in sweat and sunlight,
reborn into a nightmare world
more horrific than my dreams.
©2013 Noreen Braman



Sunday, April 14, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 14, 2013 Playing Catch-Up

Playing Catch-Up

Accumulated unfinished tasks
and family obligations
all on the heels of norovirus
have conspired to silence the poet
who may just have to live
with several days missed
unless the Muses are generous
and the schedule clears.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 10, 2013 A Tale of Two Houses

A Tale of Two Houses

The house, a burnt shell
stands mutely, years after.
Wind and time working loose
the boards nailed up
to close the blackened spaces
once windows, once doors.

Around the town
quiet conversations,
'when will they tear it down?'
an uncomfortable reminder
of death and emotional desolation,
on this street of shutters and porches.

Less attention paid
to the dilapidated house
with the peeling paint
darkened windows and
junk cars in the yard.
one, a tragedy of painful memory,
one, a tragedy of painful future.


(c)2013 Noreen Braman


Tuesday, April 09, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 9, 2013 Dancing With Matisse

"What I dream of is an art of balance, of purity and serenity devoid of troubling or depressing subject matter - a soothing, calming influence on the mind, rather like a good armchair which provides relaxation from physical fatigue."
Henri Matisse
Dancing With Matisse

I dream of artful balance
poised on a golden fulcrum
a wide but even division
between creativity and despair,
expressed in gentle brushstrokes
forming feathers and clouds and words
until the mind is soothed and calmed,
and body released from pain and fatigue
into the serene arms of the soul.

©2013 Noreen Braman

Monday, April 08, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 8, 2013 Fading to Black

Fading to Black

Her star rose in the sky the year of my birth,
talented, pretty, exotic,
the model for midcentury mommas
to dangle their babies in front of
everyone wanted their daughter to be her.
Preserved innocence in the age of modern marvels
she stepped aside before things really sped up.
a smile always available for fans and mentors alike,
small forays in the spotlight,
knowing plenty of time lay ahead
for comebacks and other dreams.
Time spent instead in traveling
the path of diminishing returns,
the steady starlight fading to black,
leaving only reflections of memory.

©2013 Noreen Braman

Sunday, April 07, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 7, 2013 What I Learned in the Past 24 Hours

What I Learned in the Past 24 hours

the brain becomes inconsequential
when the body is hijacked
there is no discussion of ransom
no terms of surrender,
the brain can just record the trauma
while begging for release
from unfeeling captors
who only move on
when scorched earth is achieved.


(c)2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 6, 2013 Norovirus Found Poem

The way I feel right now. Actually, I don't look this good.
Norovirus Found Poem

Genetically diverse genus
single-straned RNA
non-enveloped virus,
Caliciviridae family.
Viruses in the genus
all strains of a single species,
the Norwalk virus.  

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

Friday, April 05, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 5, 2013 Stuff

You cannot have everything. I mean, where would you put it.” ― Steven Wright

If you want to get rid of stuff, you can always do a good spring-cleaning. Or you can do what I do. Move. — Ellen DeGeneres


Stuff

I've got it, all of it.
The baggage,
 belongings,
chattels
and habiliments,
impedimenta,
paraphernalia
and trappings,
odds, ends
and personal effects,
a regular thesaurus of stuff.

Don't look in my
closets,
dressers,
or attic,
backyard sheds,
file cabinets
or china hutch,
wardrobe,
cabinets,
or pocketbook,
the stuff that holds the stuff.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

Free Kindle Book through April 9, 2013 "A Bouquet of Roses"

In honor of Spring, free today through April 9 - Kindle version "A Bouquet of Roses"

Thursday, April 04, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 4, 2013 - Creation

Creation

 "One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star."  - Friedrich Nietzsche

A fine excuse for living in disorder,
to birth points of light
that gambol in the heavens.
Brilliant gifts to the universe
born of tumult, turmoil and upheaval.
Sprung from physical womb or metaphysical mind
nurtured amid the disarray
of internal and external pandemonium.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman



Wednesday, April 03, 2013

NAPOWRIMO - April 3, 2013 - Balancing Act

The original Balancing Act
April 3, 2013

Balancing Act

How fitting for me
that April should be
the month of both humor and poetry.
An offspring of Mars
writing verse about stars
balancing metaphor and hilarity.


(c)2013 Noreen Braman


Tuesday, April 02, 2013

NAPOWRIMO April 2, 2013 From a Car Window


April 2, 2013

From a Car Window


Changing face of the neighborhood,
seasonal decor, home improvements,
smoking embers that reside where once a building stood.
Crowds gathered near shopping or street fairs
children with balls and bikes and school bags.
Expansive highway vistas
tiny houses on the mountain
cows and horses in the valley
rivers full of rocks and white water.
The canopy of endless sky
storms and rainbows on the horizon
landscapes suitable for epic tales.
Passing vehicles from many states
trucks with colorful product graphics
other backseat kids who wave
instant window to window connections.
Night travel with its magic
oil refineries sporting tall flames
pipelines glowing in futuristic patterns
distant fireworks dotting the sky
warm glow from homes beckon.
A moon to escort the travelers
twinkling stars to wish upon
as sleep finally shuts the tired eyes
heads leaning against the car window.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman


Monday, April 01, 2013

NAPOWRIMO - April 1, 2013 - A Feathered Separatist


April 1, 2013

A Feathered Separatist

Early morning and early evening
I drive past the swans,
their pond broad and clear
sparkling in sunlight,
yet
a solitary swan rejects the comfort
wandering outside the enclosure
swimming in the drainage ditch
waddling in the freshly plowed adjacent field
hobnobbing with Canada Geese
a swan of a different feather.
(C)2013 Noreen  Braman



Thursday, March 28, 2013

National Poetry Month NAPOWRIMO Challenge

The Cruelest Month

I leave it to you to find out which poet called April "the cruelest month," forever disparaging the month of my birth. For those of us who will be once more signing ourselves up to the Poem-A-Day writing challenge, I hope April is kind. and fun. and poetic.

Remember, a rhyming couplet or a limerick can count as a poem. (That is my opinion anyway, I don't know if there are any "rules" or Poetry Month Police to enforce them. If so, I have miraculously escaped a citation for Limerick Larceny so far.)

If you want to join in on the fun, go to http://www.napowrimo.net/ 

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

World Storytelling Day March 20, 2013

World Storytelling Day logo by Mats Rehnman
Each year, on the Spring Equinox, World Storytelling Day is celebrated globally. Events are held to promote storytelling as an art form, and there are many famous and accomplished storytellers who are keeping alive folk traditions, oral history, and presenting new work to honor the craft.

However, one does not need the title of Professional Storyteller to incorporate this skill into your life. Every time we sit around the holiday table and reminisce about the past, we are storytelling. Each time we sit down with a child or grandchild and tell them about what life was like before they were born, we are storytelling. Marketing and advertising are based on storytelling, not to mention the multitude of books, shows, plays, movies, puppet theaters, dance, religious rituals, job applications — the list is endless — that incorporate storytelling.

So, this year, take a minute, take 5 minutes, take an hour to sit down with your family, your friends, your coworkers, your students, your clients, your customers — anyone!— and tell a story. Fact, fiction or something in between. All you need is an opening line — Once upon a time.

For more information: Google Results: World Storytelling Day


Tuesday, March 12, 2013

The Smile Side of Life Laughter & Happiness Club March Newsletter

March 27, 2013 is the next meeting of the Smile Side of Life Laughter & Happiness Club in Jamesburg, New Jersey. Read all about it and other fun information in my latest newsletter:

Check out Smile Side of Life March 2013 Newsletter

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Jamesburg Smile Side of Life Laughter & Happiness Club Profiled in East Brunswick Sentinel

The Smile Side of Life Laughter & Happiness Club is a free, monthly meeting that combines Happiness Club activities with Laughter Wellness and Laughter Yoga. If you live in the area of Jamesburg, New Jersey, you are welcome to participate. Here is a recent newspaper article:
J’burg group hopes to laugh away stress

And more information can be found here: www.njlaughter.com You can even sign up for our fun and informative newsletter!

Saturday, February 16, 2013