Watch “MercyMe – I Can Only Imagine (Official Music Video)” on YouTube




There’s a homeless man who sits outside Broadway Junction with his dog. When I saw this Memorial I thought both man and dog had died but today I saw the gentleman and stopped to give my condolences. Also pats on his shoulder. Human touch means.

As he explained to me while crying that dog was his family. All his immediate family members are dead. He has nobody. My heart went out to him because I’ve been seeing him every day since 2012.

The dog’s name was Bones. Bones was his constant faithful companion. Bones was eleven when he passed away.

Though only 55 the death of his beloved Bones has aged him twenty years. The shelter system in New York City does not allow pets in the shelters. For many homeless people all they have are their pets.

I did my best to give comfort and Yes I did give him a dollar. But even more important I gave a listening ear. Though we pass by the homeless treating them like so much flotsam and jetsam. They too were somebody’s child. And in the Eyes of God the Lord sees them as Human beings.

No judgment. Just Acceptance.

Please read Luke 16:19-31 New International Version (NIV)

Bone Broth


 

 

Today’s Forgiving Fridays: Endless Possibilities!

 

 

Bone Broth

Working with the Paleo diet

Greetings to All Wellness Warriors!

 

I have noticed a significant improvement in my joints. The osteoarthritis pain has lessened and reduced. I’ve also noticed an increase in my energy levels. I am glad for the improvement.

My Mom Mable Elizabeth Palmer had osteoporosis as did some of my maternal and paternal Aunts.  I do not want osteoporosis.  Quality of Life means a lot to me.  I need to be Strong for my brother Stephen who is an Awesome Amazing Autism Guy.  Next year when I turn 60 my plan is to retire  and pursue my Photography, Art, and writing full-time.  In order to pursue my passions and the desires of my heart I must, I need to be Healthy.  

 

 

 

 

Dust


 

 

Dust

Particles like snowflakes fall upon people, animals, flowers, trees, plants, homes, houses, trains and cars

Skin particles from living beings. Cremains from those who have gone on. Skin cells. Ashes to Ashes. Dust to Dust.

Ashes of the Disintered 

Gatherings of Flesh, Feathers and Fur.

I am aware of my skin because they tell me so. But one day skin tones won’t make as we proceed from flesh to dusky ashes for then we will all be equal.

In the greater scheme of the Universe we are nothing and return to nothing but memories.  Time passes and soon we are done. Graveyard markers, memorials, tombstones and gravestones.  The Bonfire of eons and eternity eat away at our existence.

Rheema began to form and energy expression. Commencing the mixing of bloods, bone and tissues.

 

In the Dust of this Planet
In the Dust of this Planet

 

 

 

 

 

 

Death Angel

Requiem for Bertie


Requiem for Bertie

Angel of Death
Angel of Death

A walking cadaver feasting yet never full.  Hollow sunken cheeks. Fetid breath.  Mortuary bones clacking like castanets signal a dirge for a being hanging onto life yet bound for the grave. More specter than man. A rambling absurdity. Vultures patiently await thy final fall. Ye reek of the morgue. Thy entire body festers as a gangrenous wound.  He beckons! He beckons! Rub him down with frankincense and myrrh!   Ready thy flesh for winding sheet and cooling board. Turn back all covered mirrors!  Face thy head to the North Star. Every road ye tread leads to the crypt. Thy Tomb awaits thee and bids thee step in.

Island of the Damned -- Bocklin
Island of the Damned by Bocklin

The smell of death accompanies thy uprising and approach.  A stench emanating from thy despoiled core lingers in every room.  Onlookers vainly swing their heads in disgust trying to dislodge tastes of putrid flesh invading their tongues. Youth and health have been dispersed to the gale like leaves whipped by the windstorm then fallen to soil. Leaves decomposing returning to the earth from whence they came.  No potions, brews or concoctions from Ye Olde Apothecary Shoppe can save thee now. Threescore and ten shall not be thine for the Fates are poised to cut life’s cord.

The Pale Horseman rides for thee. This night thy soul is required.  Ferry passage has been booked and Charon awaits you dockside for thy journey across the River Styx.  Once shiny obsidian bursting with life now ye become dusty white-grey urn ashes.  A tree that once stood tall in the forest has fallen never to rise again.  Strong saplings are pine boxes for many Potters Fields.

Once to the bazaar now to the funeral.  Maggot courtiers await the beck and call of thy rotted corpse. Hypnos wicked opium dram shall deliver thy harvest ready soul gathered unto Thanatos sickle and scythe.  Journeys fueled by alcohol, cigarettes and sugar end much too soon. Yonder cemetery will be thy new home.

Triple 000s and Iffy Sheroes


Triple 000s and Iffy Sheroes

Rachael Ray the Queen of Greasy, Cheesy and Queasy had some rather disparaging remarks to say about J. Crews new tiny sizes collections. From my understanding J. Crew is mainly marketing these clothes to Asians who tend to be much smaller than Americans. Also there are women who are that small!! I have adult female family members who would fit into these size apparel and it is not because they are dieting, which Rachael Ray assumes small women must be doing to be that size, but because of genetics which has made them very petite. This is not a crime. It is a fact of life. Retailers make clothes for every other size so why not very petite women?! Thanks to DNA women come in all sizes, shapes and figures.

Now having said that, there is bonehead Bethenny Frankel! This woman is not only a complete idiot in posting a picture on Instagram of herself wearing her 4 year old daughters jammies, well the woman is scary skinny!! Since she markets products called Skinny-girl I can only conclude that her skeleton frame is due to extreme dieting not the result of genes. Racheal Ray and Bethenny Frankel are two extremes of the body image discussion spectrum.

Somebody Give Bethenny Frankel a Cheeseburger!!

Trophy Wife Barbie
Trophy Wife Barbie

Trophy Barbie

Walking through the museum galleries one experiences many moments of sartorial splendor and clearly fashion faux pas. Yes there are the usual way too low plunging mammary exposing necklines and with the advent of summer Anal “butt crack season” but many days we are graced with the presence of  Ms. Stepford Wifey/Girlfriend Barbie.  Join me in my Poetic Verse to the Enhanced Princess.

Trophy Barbie

Rail Thin with B52 Double DD cantaloupe boobs. Lips like Big Ang. Botox frozen face marionette led by her Ventriloquist Mate. Life-like Wax doll escapee from Madame Tussauds. Modern Day Tributes to Pygmalion and Galatea.

She’s a reconstructed FrankenWoMannequin Self-Starvationist with Stilt Walker  legs ending in permanently arched feet affixed to 5 inch Manolos Louboutins.

A Candidate for Shake Shack indeed!