Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Lush Cravings

I'm now totally obsessed with Lush cosmetics, all fresh, handmade, and not tested on animals!
Being a backwoods girl, I don't get exposed to a lot of cool new places like this, but I found store while in Jacksonville, thought I had discovered something, but came home to discover the major buzz already surrounding The Canada based  company... Oh, well!

Trying of stay affordable, I picked out a only the few things I thought were suiting - Shampoo and Conditioner for my growing hair (planning on donating) and Sugar Scrub for my craft-worn hands...

This is the Godiva Shampoo, Sea-Salt Conditioner and Sugar Scrub. 

They are a-maze-ing! Theymake my hair and skin so soft and yummy smelling, and having a pup that was rescued after spending the first three years of her life in an animal testing facility, their cause means the world to me! 

Gosh I'm in trouble, why oh why are there no stores nearby? They are on Christmas Wishlist for sure!

Sunday, October 6, 2013

On The Come Gatherin' of Fall

                                                                   Gertrude Stein

Apple plum, carpet steak, seed clam, colored wine, calm seen, cold cream, best shake, potato, potato and no no gold work with pet, a green seen is called bake and change sweet is bready, a little piece a little piece please.

A little piece please. Cane again to the presupposed and ready eucalyptus tree, count out sherry and ripe plates and little corners of a kind of ham. This is use. 

                                                                  Find it Here:

Friday, May 31, 2013

One Love

I've been away awhile. I'll explain later. Or not.
Anyway, later loves...
But sooner, really.
Sooner rather than later. But for right now, I leave you with this...

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

On Outer Peace

The Peace of Wild Things

Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

On What They Follow


Children in a Field

by Angela Shaw

They don't wade in so much as they are taken.
Deep in the day, in the deep of the field,
every current in the grasses whispers hurry
hurry, every yellow spreads its perfume
like a rumor, impelling them further on.
It is the way of girls.  It is the sway
of their dresses in the summer trance-
light, their bare calves already far-gone
in green.  What songs will they follow?
Whatever the wood warbles, whatever storm
or harm the border promises, whatever
calm.  Let them go.  Let them go traceless 
through the high grass and into the willow-
blur, traceless across the lean blue glint
of the river, to the long dark bodies
of the conifers, and over the welcoming
threshold of nightfall.

-from The Beginning of the Fields

Monday, April 15, 2013

A Song For Boston

I just can't get over this terrible event that took place today in Boston. There can never be a good enough answer for why so many happy, healthy people were attacked in the middle of a celebration, poeple who likely had nothing to do with the hate another human felt in their heart...

I know so many people feel the way I do tonight too...

Now when we are all so angry and scared and lost in the wake of this terrible event. It is so important to remember the closest hit up in Boston. It will be a long night for many, many people - victims, survivors, doctors and first responders, 2 deeply grieving familes and many more whose future is now so uncertian. To the law enforcement and their own families. God Bless them all tonight, and in the days that come -- God Bless them all.
"Dark Days"
-The Punch Brothers

(for Boston)

Mother, listen to my heart.
Mother, listen to my heart,
Just as one beat ends, another starts.
You can hear no matter where you are
Sister, hide our love away
From the evil we both know.

It can see you through these dark days,
Though they seem to darken as I go.
Our love will see us through these dark, dark days sister,
'Til it lights the way back home.
Sister, hide our love away.

It can turn the whole world upside down,
Shake it 'til the sky falls to the ground.
We don't have to reap the fear they sow,
Friends, as long as we hide our love away,
In the good they'll never know.

It can see us through these dark days,
Though they seem to darken as we go.
Our love will see us through these dark, dark days sister,
'Til it lights the way back home.
Sister, hide our love away.

Mother, listen to my heart,
Just as one beats ends, another starts.
You can hear no matter where you are.
"Dark Days"
Mother, listen to my heart.
Mother, listen to my heart,
Just as one beat ends, another starts.
You can hear no matter where you are
Sister, hide our love away
From the evil we both know.

It can see you through these dark days,
Though they seem to darken as I go.
Our love will see us through these dark, dark days sister,
'Til it lights the way back home.
Sister, hide our love away.

It can turn the whole world upside down,
Shake it 'til the sky falls to the ground.
We don't have to reap the fear they sow,
Friends, as long as we hide our love away,
In the good they'll never know.

It can see us through these dark days,
Though they seem to darken as we go.
Our love will see us through these dark, dark days sister,
'Til it lights the way back home.
Sister, hide our love away.

Mother, listen to my heart,
Just as one beats ends, another starts.
You can hear no matter where you are.
Dark Days

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

National Poetry Month 2013 Is Here!!

Hello there all!

I am sooo glad to be back! I needed a little break, but frankly I got quite a bit homesick for my little home away from home here!

Let's Get it Started Right...
Did you know that it was National Poetry Month?


The Academy of American Poets and was kicked off in April of 1996.

Just like last year, I will be hosting some poetry material here as well, so get ready!

 After all, I am "The Poetrycooker." Who knows, maybe I'll even get brave and post some of my own material up here - eek!

Got any recommendations, or questions? Send em' my way!

Monday, February 25, 2013

Oscars Recap

Not gonna lie...despite the critics I thought Seth MacFarlane did great. He kept it tamer than everyone expected, and I personally thought "We Saw Your Boobs" was hilarious. If actress were offended by being exploited, perhaps they should remind themselves that they were in fact the person who exploited themselves in the first place. I mean really, it was Seth MacFarlane! Compared to his usual MO, the guy on there stage up might as well have been Mister Rogers. The joke about the Lincoln assassination, followed by his very tounge in cheek question, "too soon?" Hilarious!

I will say, MacFarlane looked very handsome last night...i think I just might have a wee crush. I'll add him to the list somewhere next to Seth Rogen, Jason Segel, and that guy from Bridesmaids. I LOVE those types. Seth MacFarlane has a great singing voice too! I just didn't understand Channing and Charlieze dancing to They Way You Look Tonight, but it was well delivered, nevertheless.

Anyway, the dude didn't even sell out by referenceing Family Guy or anything. The only appearence of MacFarlane offspring seemed to be the new, adorable,potty-mouthed title character from the Oscar host's movie Ted.

I was so excited for Anne Hathaway. Usually I can take or leave her, but her performance in Les Mis left nothing to be desired. Her comment about the plight of Fontine and its still somehow current perspective made me teary. She did very well!

I'm also so glad Brave won best animated feature! I loved the when the filmmaker giving the speech pointed out her teenage daughter, who was the inspiration for Merida. She was adorable. I hope Disney
Keeps producing more culturally responsible movies like Brave and 2009's Princess and the Frog. I was so happy to see my Scottish roots represented in film for young people! Feisty Merida is an excellent role model, and she and the world  filmakers created around her were worthy of an Oscar for sure.

Speaking of little archers, Jennifer Lawerence was just wonderful last night. Even  though she's literary The Face of what's currently the most popular YA franchise in the world, (you know the one) her Oscar nominated performance in Winter's Bone and (now Oscar winning) performance in Silver Linings Playbook had the Hollywood greats asking, "Katniss who?"

And the 22 year old has the best attitude. While she lacks the icy, well-rehearsed behavior of peers such as Hathaway, she has an air of intelligence and composure that's lost on ladies like Kristen Stewart and Miley Cyrus. While she is definitely intelligent, Lawerence, is also often just plain goofy, so she just comes across as nothing but real.

Speaking of, I love her stance on body image and weight loss in Hollywood and I pray she sticks to it.  Lawrence, though outspoken on the issue, is in no way soft or large, but her small, firm frame speaks to what should really be respected as healthy and appealing in Hollywood. Sturdy though she is, her nervousness when introducing the evening's most important performer and subsequent falling up the stairs during her way up to receive rhe award proved that she is nothing but endearingly human. And that is nothing short of wonderful.

(Not gonna lie here either - I wasn't exactly rooting for that cocky 9 year old, who seemed to think she had it on the bag.) Cockiness won't get you far with this lady, sweetie!

Speaking of which, I loved Ben Affleck's speech last night. Though the poor guy was rushed beyond reason, I thought he did a wonderful and heartfelt job, and I loved his comments to wife Jennifer (Garner). That cocky guy who co-wrote and starred in Good Will Hunting has come.a long way.

Can't end this without speaking to the musical performances. They were all just as stellar on stage as edited and presented on screen, and I welled up again over Les Mis. Adele did a bang up job and it's great to see the new mom 3-0 for the major awards for Skyfall, and again, MacFarlane proves his musicality extends far beyond toilet humor and somehow, inexplicably into the realm of Fred Astaire. Surprining, stellar, wow! Stella

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

On Who You Miss The Most


You Were You Are Elegy

Mary Jo Bang

Fragile like a child is fragile.
Destined not to be forever.
Destined to become other
To mother. Here I am
Sitting on a chair, thinking
About you. Thinking
About how it was
To talk to you.
How sometimes it was wonderful
And sometimes it was awful.
How drugs when drugs were
Undid the good almost entirely
But not entirely
Because good could always be seen
Glimmering like lame glimmers
In the window of a shop
Called Beautiful
Things Never Last Forever.
I loved you. I love you. You were.
And you are. Life is experience.
It's all so simple. Experience is
The chair we sit on.
The sitting. The thinking
Of you where you are a blank
To be filled
In by missing. I loved you.
I love you like I love
All beautiful things.
True beauty is truly seldom.
You were. You are
In May. May now is looking onto
The June that is coming up.
This is how I measure
The year. Everything Was My Fault
Has been the theme of the song
I've been singing,
Even when you've told me to quiet.
I haven't been quiet.
I've been crying. I think you
Have forgiven me. You keep
Putting your hand on my shoulder
When I'm crying.
Thank you for that. And
For the ineffable sense
Of continuance. You were. You are
The brightest thing in the shop window
And the most beautiful seldom I ever saw.
Poetry (June 2007).


Tuesday, February 19, 2013

On Elemental Sentiments

Sand Flesh and Sky

Clarence Major

Our ropes are the roots

of our life. We fish

low in the earth,

the river beneath runs through our veins,

blue and cold in a riverbed.

When the sun comes up,

the moon moves slowly to the left.

I tie the logs and limbs together,

holding them in place.

The ocean beats them

smooth like rock.

Here my sense of time is flat.

I find in a strip of damp sand

footprints and marks of hands,

and torn pieces of flesh.

Night is a beast.

The tide moves, gushing

back and forth.

Sunlight touches our faces,

turning us, turning us, turning us

in our morning sleep.


-from Configurations:
 New & Selected Poems, 1958-1998

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Pack your Bags, Ladies! It's Saturday(ish)!

Saturday by
 Kate Spade Saturday

Poetry Points

I love this new collection by Kate Spade - and there's bag's here for all my girls! Whether your style is Bohemian (Mamma), Polished (Sarah),  Artsy (Hannah), Ladylike (Jenna) or Eclectic (Me) - there is something in this collection that fits your aesthetic...
Very Fashion-Poetic.
My girl Kate loses a point on the price - most of us can't afford $160 for a tiny bag - but she gains tons of credit for being both On-trend and innovative - and for reaching a wide range of styles.
I think it's safe to say that Ms. Spade, while young at heart, has become quite the fashion grown up!
And Here's My Favorite:

It's not just bags we're talking about either - here are some more Fab products from Kate Spade's Saturday Collection:


Thursday, February 14, 2013

On The Journey of a Soul

What I find magical about this piece is the way it relies on the reader to create the speaker's perspective. I believe that the poet has executed this beautifully by using descriptive imagery while remaining vague, but emotional about the speaker's background.
It's a powerful and thought-provoking juxtaposition.


Richie Hofmann
I have come again to the perfumed city.
Houses with tiered porches, some decorated with shells.
You know from the windows that the houses
are from a different time. I am not
to blame for what changes, though sometimes
I have trouble sleeping.
Between the carriage houses,
there are little gardens separated by gates.
Lately, I have been thinking about the gates.
The one ornamented with the brass lion, I remember
it was warm to the touch
even in what passes here for winter.
But last night, when I closed my eyes,
it was not the lion that I pictured first.
Source: Poetry (November 2012).
The experience the speaker had before the poem is unspecific, but not unimportant. 
It represents the kind of mystery we encounter not only in strangers, but also in loved ones who have returned home after long journeys.
Why is this particular setting special enough for the speaker to have remarked on it to begin with? And hey, where are they anyway? Where is this place?  Have they been there before? How long have they been gone? Where has the speaker been before this? Are they planning on staying or moving on?  Do you find the setting frightening, or hopeful? Is the speaker healing or self-destructing?
Do you think that the fact the speaker dreams about the gates has anything to do with their past and their future? What do those gates mean? Do they confine or protect? Do you think they see themselves as being inside or outside of the gates? Do you think this a more emotional or physical location?
 Do you think you see the reader's location (whether physical or emotional) as differently as they see it? Are you, or any of us, for that matter, really all that different from the speaker at all? Who is the speaker after all? After all the answers to these questions - could it really be possible that maybe the speaker is you?\
Richie Hofmann
Poet Richie Hofmann

-explore more poetry by Hoffmann

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Trust This Winter Love Song

I've always loved this song - it sort of reminds me of being in love with somebody who's not really there - like living in a fantsay world you can't really get out of - like living in a snowglobe

What's Simple Is True


Jewel Kilcher
Turn to me with frozen lips
Your hands are icy cold
Your eyes burn bright against the frost-bit sky
You never seemed more lovely than you do right tonight
Pale on the horizon
Like leaves frozen in the snow
Our two shadows merge inseparably
Will time stand still if it's pierced with cold
The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
I love you
there's a warmth in my heart
It haunts me when you're gone
Mend me to your side and never let go
Say 'Time knows nothing, we'll never grow cold'
The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
I love you
Twilight descends on our silhouette
How soon spring comes
How soon spring forgets
I wanna hold time, say it'll never begin
Old man winter be our friend
Old man winter be our friend
'Cause the more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
What's simple is true
I love, I love you
-from, Spirit

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

The Places You've Been

I love how Matejka manages to make the term "I rocked it" sound poetic and beautiful. How brilliant do you have to be to manage that?

Map to the Stars

Adrian Matejka
A Schwinn-ride away: Eagledale Plaza. Shopping strip of busted
walkways, crooked parking spaces nicked like the lines
on the sides of somebody’s mom-barbered head. Anchored
by the Piccadilly disco, where a shootout was guaranteed every
weekend, those gun claps: coughing stars shot from sideways
guns shiny enough to light the way for anyone willing to keep
a head up long enough to see. Not me. I bought the Star Map
Shirt for 15¢ at the Value Village next to the Piccadilly during
the daytime. The shirt was polyester with flyaway collars,
outlined in the forgotten astronomies of disco. The shirt’s
washed-out points of light: arranged in horse & hero shapes
& I rocked it in places neither horse nor hero hung out.
Polyester is made from polyethylene & catches fire easily
like wings near a thrift store sun. Polyethylene, used in shampoo
bottles, gun cases, & those grocery sacks skidding like upended
stars across the parking lot. There are more kinds of stars
in this universe than salt granules on drive-thru fries. Too many
stars, lessening & swelling with each pedal pump away from
the Value Village as the electric billboard above flashes first
one dui attorney, then another who speaks Spanish so the sky
above is constantly chattering, like the biggest disco ball ever
The Devil's Garden
-more from Adrian Matejka

On Amen (or something like it)

(The Last Word in 55 Novels):
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
AitchesRoad to Wigan Pier
BloomWatership Down
BombsHomage to Catalonia
Both End of the Affair
CombustionThe Loved One
DaysAlice's Adventures in Wonderland
DistanceLord of the Flies
EarthOne Hundred Years of Solitude
Earth Wuthering Heights
EndedCrime and Punishment
ExercationThe Stranger
FeetGreat Wall of China
GunJohnny Got His Gun
GuysOf Mice and Men
Ha!The Tin Drum
HappyA Moveable Feast
HateThe Stranger
HimContinental Op
HonorMadame Bovary
HotelAge of Innosence
In Maltese Falcon
ItBrokeback Mountain
KnowA Tale of Two Cities
LifeA Good Man is Hard to Find
LivedMoll Flanders
MediterraneanA Room with a View
Moby DickOrphan
MorningTo Kill a Mockingbird
MultiplyGod Bless You, Mr. Rosewater
Past Great Gatsby
PlaceThe Sound and the Fury
PlayThe House at Pooh Corner
PlayedThe Recognitions
Poo-tee-weet?Slaughterhouse Five
RavineUnder the Volcano
RestoredClaudius the God
RoomBell Jar
SeenSpeak, Memory
ShiningOf Human Bondage
SmiledThe Good Earth
SoThe Sun Also Rises
ThemThe Long Goodbye
ThemCharlotte's Web
Cat's Cradle
ThisLittle Women
Time One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
WayParadise Lost
Animal Farm
Breakfast of Champions*

Saturday, February 2, 2013

On a Whisper

I love this prose piece from gentleman poet Zachary Schomburg  ...

The Animal Spell

Zachary Schomburg
Someone once told me that animals are people under spells, and if you fall in love with them the spell will be lifted. I recently fell in love with a black trumpeter swan. I watched her ruffle her neck feathers for hours, watched her peck bugs from her breast. I was sure she would make a beautiful bride, but she was always a black trumpeter swan. I once brushed a horse's hair for 3 straight years until it crumpled into death. The truth is there is no such thing as spells. The world is always as it is, and always as it seems. And love is just our own kind voice that we whisper into our own blood.
-Explore more from Zachary Schomburg

Friday, February 1, 2013

The Words You Were Looking For


alone, beautiful, bed, color, dark, depression

Sara Miller

Last night in bed
I mouthed a prayer
of my own composition.

It sounded offhand, it was carelessly
addressed, it twisted my meaning
entirely, it left an ache,
I didn’t know what I was doing.

So I took down my yellowed copy
of French With Pictures
by the late literary critic I.A. Richards
and I put my petition
into soft French words.

I.A. Richards believed that irony
was the language of redemption.
He wrote and lectured famously on this,
but his masterpiece was French With Pictures.
“The chapeau is on the table.”
“The man with the beard stands before the window.”
“She comes from a village by the sea.”

There is no improving the old traditions.
They are already mortal, partial, and wrong.
The woman at the table by the window
puts her head into her hands.
“Into your hands,” she said.

Sara  Miller
-Explore More from Sara Miller
-from: Poetry (January 2013).

On a String...

Found this last night!! I made it about a year ago using a combination of metals. I also used a mix of natural beads with rhinestones, I selected several inexpensive charms from my collection and attached them to a toggle clasp with a wide opening. I think I'm going to try some more like this soon!


Wednesday, January 30, 2013

On What's in a Name

People Met

Gottfried Benn

(translated from the German by Michael Hofmann)

I have met people who,
asked after their names,
shyly—as if they had no title
to an appellation all to themselves—
replied “Fräulein Christian” and added:
“like the first name,” they wanted to make it easy for the other,
not a difficult name like “Popiol” or “Babendererde”—
“like the first name”—please, don’t burden your memory overmuch!

I have met people who
grew up in a single room with their parents
and four brothers and sisters, and studied at night
with their fingers in their ears at the kitchen table,
and grew up to be beautiful and self-possessed as duchesses—
and innerly gentle and hard-working as Nausicaa,
clear-browed as angels.

I have often asked myself and never found an answer
whence kindness and gentleness come,
I don’t know it to this day, and now must go myself.
Prose Essays Poems: Gottfried Benn (German Library)
-Explore more from this author at Amazon

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Those Memories

i hope you think of me, thinking of me, love, pretty, quotes

Don't we all have someone we think this way about at some point in our lives?

For me there have been three gentlemen.  I won't name names, but I'll tell you this:  my heart was captured somewhere around the years of 4, 15 and 21...

And yes, for me there is one gentleman that stands out a little more than the others.


Though I was 21 when I met him, and I'm 28 now, he lives somewhere in my 16 year-old heart., and it's likely he always will.

I look forward to a real life and a real love - I know that one day I'll fall in love for the last time and I know that I will give that man my whole heart. I also believe that it is important to make room in your heart for others before you meet them or you risk displaying a "no vacancy" sign to others...believe me I've dated that guy who is still stuck on a girl from years before - and I got plain tired of not only feeling like I couldn't measure up - but finally becoming somewhat preoccupied with her myself - (and these were the days before facebook - imagine that)!

I never want to be the girl who can't forget.

But I hope there's a part of me that never forgets these three young guys the way I felt about them -  and I doubt I ever will. Mostly because a part of me believes that secret dreams and memories - that first love and unrequited love is really the only place a person can ever find real "romance" - like in a book or a movie.

 It's -in your most secret memories -  in all those moments that  only the two of you know about.

It's in every unspoken affection - all the things you didn't have - because it's in those dreams that the two of you were truly perfect.

Remember every time your heart swelled and nearly burst - remember every time it felt shattered, because to quote one of my all time favorite shows Dawson's Creek with one of its all-time most soapy lines -

"it's our pain that makes us real..."

But you know what I think


It's also our joy.

In Order to be More Happy...


On Our Perspectives

The Painter of the Night


James Tate

Someone called in a report that she had
seen a man painting in the dark over by the
pond. A police car was dispatched to go in-
vestigate. The two officers with their big
flashlights walked all around the pond, but
found nothing suspicious. Hatcher was the
younger of the two, and he said to Johnson,
"What do you think he was painting?" Johnson
looked bemused and said, "The dark, stupid.
What else could he have been painting?" Hatcher,
a little hurt, said, "Frogs in the Dark, Lily-
pads in the Dark, Pond in the Dark. Just as
many things exist in the dark as they do in
the light." Johnson paused, exasperated. Then
Hatcher added, "I'd like to see them. Hell,
I might even buy one. Maybe there's more out
there than we know. We are the police, after-
all. We need to know."
-from Poetry Magazine (May 2000).
Product Details
-discover more from James Tate