SOMETHING ISN'T GOING RIGHT............

Quiet as the Grave

 Quiet as the grave that holds me fast

When death has dumbed the drumbeat of my blood,

Beneath the soundless soil, still at last,

I'll sink in silence to the muffling blood--

   But until then, I'll clatter through the halls

And shout hello to friends and wail goodbye;

I'll laugh aloud within the staidest walls 

And shriek my anger to the somber sky--

   The dead are not notorious for their noise

And I will lie a long time quietly,

So until then I'll use my loudest voice

To make the whimpering world resound of me

    And when at last I'm muted by the all-absorbing ground    

   And my unaccustomed silence then will deafen you with sound!

 

BRAVE NEW WORLD, AND AN OLDIE.....

What should Fio tell you---that she thinks she's run out of her usual material and is grinding her teeth for something new? That she may have lost one of her black suede shoes, and that white won't do? That, on the other hand, she finally found the gloves that she lost last fall? DO EVERYONE'S CLOSETS  LOOK LIKE HERS???

Your girl is now at one of her bedroom walls, the one that she's taped and nailed her various notes on. Maybe it will get a re-do too? Maybe FIO will get a re-do.

As Fiorella was going through scattered pages in a forgotten corner, she discovered all sorts of half-written plots for romances, etcetera....but are readers still interested in romance anymore?

The cat has settled himself on the bed beside Fio, but will he speak?

And, again, your girl will try to do a better job tomorrow💗

-----------------------------

Hey, Fio found some interesting entertainment going through her left-overs, and one of her favorite short shorts she named "Paradise."

      Heaven was, well, heavenly. Each day was just as wonderful as the day before. The sunrise was always a blushing gold, the sunset, a drama of orange and black, while the grass was always green and smelled of eternal spring. George golfed with his spirit guide every day and always won. His wife never whined and his children were always polite, obedient, and happy.

     Everything was the same, day after day, after day.In fact, after a while perfection became somewhat boring.

     "I really didn't realize heaven would be so much the same all the time, "George finally said to his spirit guides.

     His guide looked at him in surprise. "What made you think this is heaven?"

________________________________________----

And another one that just burst out of my brain--

     Sometimes I want to grow up

     Sometimes I want to grow down

     Sometimes I want to be 

     All over the town

     And wear a golden crown--

          But most, of all, I want to be

          Someone who is truly loved by me

      _____________________________________________

 

    

 See next page

THINK ABOUT IT!

 Fiorella doesn't feel good today. Maybe it's because of Trump, maybe because of the of the anti-semitism whirling around in academia, or maybe because she's a little sick, or maybe it's all three. In other words, she'll repeat one of her more meaningful poems.........    

          America, bow your head in shame

           Ethnic cleansing is the name of the game--

                  Clear out the black, the yellow, the brown

                   Run gays and their kindred out of town

                    Ridicule the halt, the blind, the lame

                    And do unto those who sorrow the same

                     Jail the actors, the artists, the press

                     Silence the women and make them a jest

                     Reject the migrants or throw them in jail

                      Allow graft and cronyism to prevail

                 In short, go after anyone who

                 Doesn't talk or think or look like you--

                 An automaton of self-fed hate

                  Which no force on earth can ameliorate!

 

 

 

   

                                       

 

HMMM.....LOOKS LIKE FIORELLA US GETTING BACK IN SHAPE AGAIN!!

 Your girl is almost out of checks, and she hopes a new book will arrive soon. If not, you'll hear her shriek from here to Honolulu. 

George, the sweet white cat, is lying in Fio's lap and purring to comfort her in her possible indignation.

Has Fiorella told you that she had to skip her appointment with her tremor doctor? Hopefully she'll be able to pick the visit up again later on. (Being half blind is a really irritating!)

Yes, Fio is doing her best to follow the Trump saga, and it looks like  our former president is going down, down, down, which is exactly where he belongs!

Your girl has been going through her loads of half-written romances from times past to see if she could finish them out, but she doesn't even know what kind of stories are selling these days. Fio's infomation chain, like the nutcracker doll, is still broken, mostly because she can't drive. 

Ah, well, shall we turn to poetry? 

     Sometimes I'm high

     Sometimes I'm low

     Sometimes I don't know 

     Where I go 

          But where ever I be 

          I will think of thee

          Thankfully 💗

     

 

 

     

 

 

       

 

 

 

 

WHAT'S GOING ON?

 Going through old papers brings back memories of times gone past--of a birthday party for the children at their grandparents' home, which was a lovely place hanging off the edge of the the city?. Yes, Grandpa was a well-known journalist and had to be stay in touch with whatever current was smoking fire.

Your girl is sort of melancholy today. Where are her pals of yesteryears? The students she taught who gave her such glowing acclaims and the long-time friends who have fluttered out of sight?

Ah, well.....time goes on, but Fio wants a couple more runs around the ring.....and who knows? Maybe a  hero from yesteryear will turn up. and.....

In the meantime, FaceBook refused to accept  pictures of Fio's friends. What's going on? COULD SOMEONE PLEASE SEND A FACEBOOK MECHANIC TO YOUR GIRL SO SHE CAN KEEP UP WITH EVERYTHING!

Whatever, with her computer back, Fiorella will start spouting poetry again.....old and knew.

 

NOT MY BEST, BUT TRYING!

 What the heck has messed up Facebook? Fio can't post anything in it?  H E L P !

 _____________________________________________________________________Hooray for Son--he Solved the problem and kindly re-fixed Fiorella's computer regarding it's going off into who-knows-where. Now to get Fio's clothes out of the drier.... _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Fiorella is trying to follow the TV news, and it looks like Trump is loosing out. If only he had never even got his foot in the door! (Yes, Fio bawled her eyes out when Hillary got shoved out--and your girl still thinks that it was foul play!)

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Fio is board, board, board--nothing has been happening in her neck of the woods and everyone seems to feel the same way. Even the TV is dull.....

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Somehow, your girl now has TWO of those white cords that connect her computer to the wall. Maybe someone stuck them in the package in case Fiorella screws up the mechanism again....which she probably will.

_______________________________________________________________________________ 

Who is Fio kidding? She's board, board, board and not a drop to drink! Will try to do better tomorrow.....

YOO HOO! FIORELLA HAS RECOVERED AND ALL IS NOW WELL IN OUR COMUNICATION....HOPEFULLY

 Hurray! FIorella is on line again--but strangely, she's still crying--maybe because she still has no friends and nothing to do--but also because she mistakenly spread some untrue and hurting information about some people she loves dearly.

And what is Fio doing to breach the gap? Smile, keep her mouth shut, and dive into the many, MANY piles of colored paper stuck in the back quarters of the wall. Then there are books from times way back---and her fingers tapping]with excitement, ready to put them in place.....

But it's all the accumulation of years.... can your girl deal with everything?  

PRAY FOR HER! 

And keep your eyes and ears open for any stray pills rolling around on the floor.....

____________________________________________

Your girl would love to have a nice dog, a nice BIG dog like a Collie or a Mastiff or a Weimeraner--but (sigh) such is not to be in a household currently run by two little pugs and a large, mostly white, cat,  although she has to admit that the cat (male) will often come into Fio's room as she dreams at night and purr himself asleep.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 Actually, the first dogs that Beagles that Fio and her late husband had were out of President Lyndon Johnson's stock. Later we picked up strays.....and loved them all. (They were good practice not only for the kids, but the fish, the cats, and every other animal Fio and husband could find.)

___________________________________________________________________________________

Fiorella is thrilled that our communication is back in the saddle again and your girl hopes it will keep heading off to buffalo, as 'tis said. 😁😊😊😊😊😊

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 FIO IS SOOOOOOO BORD!

  

 

DANG IT!

 Fio is having trouble with her computer right now, but should survive.

Silly Poetry, Poetry, Poetry!

         An oldie, but a goodie: another one of Fiorella's complaints about the weather, which, for some reason, never seems to pay attention to her 😠😠😠

       Weather Threat

Hey, Mr. Weatherman,                                           

Where's my snow?                                              

The wonderland I ordered up  

A month ago?

  It looks like Spring out--

The grass is green

With not a single snowflake

To be seen--

   Last chance, Mr. Weatherman

Better make it snow

Or else I'll no longer 

Watch your show!

       -------

The Whistle-ding-chime-bing-bong Song

    Our teapot whistles

    Our dishwasher dings 

    Our refrigerator chimes

    Our microwave bings

    And our alarm puts out

    One long bong 

    To harmonize

    Our kitchen song!

------------------------------

Yes, I write doodles all the time

And do my best to make them rhyme,

It's cleverness on  Fio's myour help and finebehalf  

Enough to make you smile and laugh😊😊😊

 _______________________________

   

           A Genuinely Silly Poem by Someone in a Hurry

      Eek, eek, eek, and Jim, John, Joe--

I've messed up my poem from head to toe

 

 

 

 

Here I am running, looking high and low,

     But not at all sure where I should go--

 Except maybe back home on tippy toe--

      And if the sun is drawing low,

      I'll grab up a shovel and hoe, hoe, hoe!

_____________________________________

Your girl is going to be shuffling off to Buffalo today or tomorrow to spend some time with her daughter's family, then she'll return to home base and pick up where she left off, for better or worse. In the meantime, she's seen the eclipse--with special glasses, of course--and caught up with Brother and his wife. Fio was thrilled to see the moon play its game, but even more excited to visit with her kin.

____________________________________

Seeing her Fiorella's late parents' belongings being used by the rest of the family (as  she also has done) makes your girl feel warm, as if Mom and Dad are still with her.

______________________________________

 Isn't it great to have a giant black ball splashed across the front of the newspaper rather than politics and the latest murder? Even the Israli--xxXxxx  had to pause.

 

 

\\\\

     

 

MORE MEANINGFUL POETRY

 Fiorella went all over her room and outside to the trash can to try to find the cord to her computer, and, of course, when she gave up, she glanced toward the edge of her bedstead, and there it was! 

Now for the entertainment:

 

       Declaration of War

Fiorella is late today 

Not that she has naught to say

Rather that she has far too much

About the state of the world and such--

She wants to rouse the countryside

She wants to echo the world wide

In seeming contradiction, to fight

For love and peace and what is right 

 

       Revelation 

I thought I would never stop crying

That I would never heal

But fire has burned away the dross

And now, I am steel

     Defience

I'm not big

I'm not strong

Nut at least I know

 

The Sexes

        Men are strong, but women endure 

______________________________________________________________________

In case you are wondering, Fiorella is running through a lot of her oldies so she can find herself again. Age and sorrow has taken it's toll.

Right from wrong

     

TRUE STORY

 Dinner with the Old Belle

     She sat across the restaurant table from us, chewing on her hamburger steak, then spitting it into her napkin, which she had discreetly emptied beneath the table. I knew from past experience that when she finished her meal, she would wrap the leftover rolls in a Kleenex and stuff them inside her purse. 

     It was hard to stomach eating across from her, but she was family, and I knew my obligation.

     "Joyce" was a widow, my husband's much older sister. Her hands were gnarled from arthritis, purple blotches colored her arms, her head bobbed, and her voice didn't work right. She had once been beautiful, a debutante, the belle of the ball. Now she died her hair red in the the bathtub, then insisted it was it's, natural color and dressed in bargains from the thrift store although she could afford much better. This evening she had hung a cameo from her neck by a large safety pin that wicked at me whenever she moved.

      In fact, she looked like a bag lady we were treating to a decent meal.

     The dinner conversation was strained. I remember that she asked us for ideas as to wear she could meet men her age, and all we could think of was antique car shoes.

As we left the restaurant, a flurry of white-haired women came in--laughing, well-groomed, confident women enjoying each other's company. They recognized Joyce as a schoolmate and called her name, smiled, and reached out to her, but Joyce shrank away in horror......

     She was too young to be as old as the were.

NO SHOW TODAY, WILL TRY TO DO BETTER TOMORROW

 NO SHOW TODAY. WILL TRY TO PULL MYSELF TOGETHER TOMORROW.

ADDING ON!

  This morning, the sun was shining, the breeze was just right, and Fio sang "Lavender's Blue" at the bottom of the cul-de sac. Now, she'd feeling sicky. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

 

Hurry, hurry, scurry, scurry 

Fio is under the gun--

The holy day is swift upon us

And so much is left to be done!

 __________________________________

War Cry!

 I can't march, but I can write 

I don't sing, but my pen can!

___________________________________

 (Evening was great! SALMON!)

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More and More-----------------------------

 Yes, Fiorella has not mastered her computer, even though she's had it since they first came on the market. She's more an art type, as you well know--but she'd like it the two worked more together.

Your girl is going to be visiting her brother and his wife soon, then her daughter and her family.  WHOOPEE! It will be difficult to get out of the house, what with the packing and all, but Fio will enjoy the scenery and the....well, the news from the other side of town.

Will Fiorella be hauling her computer along with her? OF COURSE!  And you'll hear every bit of her adventure. But what if there isn't any adventure? Then Fio will get something else to amuse you and herself!!!

Defiance

    I'm not big

     I'm not strong

     But at least I know

     Right from wrong 

 

Determination

     When times get rough,

     Rough and tough

     More than enough

     Fiorella will contrive

     To survive

 What She Lives By

     Economy of motion=economy of time

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OOOPS! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED YESTERDAY!

 More of your girl's poetry, which you may or may or may not have seen before:

                  The Light Bringer

      Because they don't want

      To bother with the shades,

       My children rather squint and grope about

       In the darkened house

       So every morning

       I go to the windows

       And raise the shades myself

        So sunbeams can flood their rooms

___________________________________________________________________

 Breathe Deep

          We buy topsoil for the garden

          We buy channels for TV 

           We by water by the carton--

            Thank goodness air is free

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           Ah, Nature           

When outside it's wintery

    And inside, it's seventy

     I'm still cold and shivery

When outside, it's summery

      And inside its seventy

      I'm sweating like a piggery

_________________________________________________________________________

      Cough, Snort, Sneeze

Her dreams are bad, 

And when she wakes

Her throat is raw

Her left ear aches

Her mood is cranky

Her bread is soggy

Her body's hurting

Her movement's loggy

       As you can guess,

       Fio's sick

       And she darn well better

       Get well quick!

(Not every poet writes about mucus😁