. The Goddess Blog by Shirley J. Brewer

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-14T20:16:00.001-07:00

March 15

Dance video, love those core moves!
Bachelor Brad Womack picks Emily.
Hope they have a Happy Ending!

I love having this time off.
Who knew spring break could feel
this good!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-14T20:11:00.000-07:00

March 14

Happy Birthday, Louis Goldstein,
mentor, friend!
Miss you! You were a positive figure
in Maryland politics, a role model.
You are greatly missed. I so enjoyed
the summer I worked in your office,
cataloguing all your books,
and reading some too! I remember
fondly all the times you came to my schools.
What a star! Thank you
for enriching my life!!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-14T19:45:00.000-07:00

March 13

Wrote two new poems today, including
"All for the Love," my tribute
to Johnny Horton, country music star,
my first love.

Felt so good to sleep in today!!

We turn the clocks tonight!! Hurray!!!
My favorite time of the year begins!!
Jubilation!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-12T12:26:00.000-08:00

March 12

Happy Birthday
to my dear friend, Elaine McCarthy,
who passed away suddenly
in October, 2009.

Elaine, I wrote a poem
about you, called "Wild Girl."
Yesterday, I submitted it to
The Comstock Review.
I hope they publish it!

I miss you, and am grateful for
33 years of friendship, and many
wonderful adventures.
Tell Cooper I said,"Hi."

Love,

Shirley

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-12T12:24:00.000-08:00

March 11

Today, a huge earthquake
and tsunami devastate Japan.
Grief is global.
We are all so fragile.

Love to you, dear people of Japan.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-12T12:20:00.000-08:00

March 10

Heavy rain, those clouds
are peeing
all over my universe.

Thank heaven
for my leopard umbrella.

Accessories brighten
the darkest days.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-12T12:18:00.000-08:00

March 9

Today, a new dose of blonde!
Forgive vanity, forget the gray
roots.
I'm addicted to Emidio Vincenzo's Escape!!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-12T12:16:00.000-08:00

March 8

My chiropractor fixes
my subluxations, and
to my body
that's relaxation!

Thanks, Dr. Dorn,
for spine-tingling treatment!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-12T12:13:00.000-08:00

March 7

What I love is
the anticipation of Spring,
knowing there's a bluebird
in my near future.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-06T15:42:00.000-08:00

March 6

A stunning production of "Les Miserables"
at the Hippodrome Theatre. I am so fortunate
to be a volunteer usher, and see shows for free!
This show moves me more than any other.

"Bring Him Home"

(Valjean is standing over Marius at the barricade)

VALJEAN
God on high
Hear my prayer
In my need
You have always been there

He is young
He's afraid
Let him rest
Heaven blessed.
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.

He's like the son I might have known
If God had granted me a son.
The summers die
One by one
How soon they fly
On and on
And I am old
And will be gone.

Bring him peace
Bring him joy
He is young
He is only a boy

You can take
You can give
Let him be
Let him live
If I die, let me die
Let him live
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-06T15:32:00.001-08:00

March 5

Poetry group at Lalita's -
a lovely gathering of 11 writers,
coming together to share, workshop,
and revel in our words.
We laughed about "gonads"
and "the uninvited guest."

My Al Pacino poem
is getting better and better!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-06T15:23:00.000-08:00

March 4

Poets and Painters Reading at
The Artists' Gallery in Columbia.
Great Night! Big crowd!
I felt like a celebrity
dazzling with words and a voice:

Not Your Mother’s Clothesline

-after a photograph by John Stier

Don’t give me laundry, give me Costa Rica,

where art billows and bleeds on the line;

Matisse hues riot in the open air.

Brilliant blues, a taste of lime,

an indiscretion of red—

I lose myself in a silken maze.

Butterflies, toucans, erotic petals

sizzle in heat. I succumb to color,

become part of the prism.

Wrap me in a sea-scented scarf. Drench

my senses. No ordinary tourist,

accessories replenish me.

Ban beige, I cry out, as rainbow

fabrics blaze in the tropical sun.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-03T20:57:00.000-08:00

March 3

When you volunteer at WYPR,
they feed you well!
This evening, a silver bag
from Sascha's:
tuna pesto sandwich, gourmet chips,
apple, cupcake, Sprite,
and Baby's Breath!
Oh, and pink tissue paper!
You might call it a "wrap."
Public Radio Rocks!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-02T16:51:00.000-08:00

March 2

Warm spring-like day, I'm feeling
that March rush.
Think I hear tulips
pushing up from the Underworld.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-03-02T16:48:00.000-08:00

March 1

Concert at Peabody Institute:

Tubas, trombones, trumpets-
enough to make you horny!!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-28T21:08:00.001-08:00

February 28

Rainy Monday! Still, I went to the gym.
Woman of Dedication and Grit!!

"The King's Speech" won the Oscar last night for Best Picture.
Hurray! A celebration of finding one's voice!!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-28T21:03:00.000-08:00

February 27

Successful poetry reading at the Writer's Center
in Bethesda with Laura Shovan and Kat Hellen.
Lovely audience, beautiful poems,
the exquisite intimacy of words.
Afterward, an Espresso Hamburger at "The Dizz."

It doesn't get better!!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-26T16:32:00.001-08:00

February 26

Poetry returns...a new poem
in the Stephen Pitcairn series.
This one called "Reminiscence."

The last couplet:
Hear me; live well. Honor
your splendid gifts.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-25T14:13:00.000-08:00

February 25

Seven months since the killing
of Stephen Pitcairn in my beautiful
community of Charles Village.
His loss still felt, his potential still alive.
Soon, the trial. I set my Intention
that justice will prevail.
In Florida, his mother's heart
still broken.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-25T14:05:00.000-08:00

February 24

"The King's Speech": a speech therapist
helps a king find his voice, and believe in himself.
I spent 33.5 years in my speech therapy career
helping children find their voices.
This movie affirmed for me
the value of my life's work, the importance
of treating the whole person, and not just the
"stutter."
For the past 15 years, I've focused
on finding and growing
my own poetic voice.
"Voice" is a major theme in my life!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-25T13:56:00.000-08:00

February 23

I'm thinking it's about time
for another trip to Home Depot,
Paint Department,
where I can stock up
on those strips of color possibilities.
What shade will I be? I need
a new name to define
myself for spring:
Pink Pandemonium,
Emerald Goddess,
Yellow Blossom Radiance.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-25T13:55:00.000-08:00

February 22

Snow Day! I'm a kid
at heart
who relishes a delicious
day off.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-25T13:52:00.000-08:00

February 21

Mondays come around
every seven days.
Isn't there a law
against that kind of repetition?

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-20T17:06:00.000-08:00

February 20

Poetry agrees with me!
I'm cooking up my next gem now -
a poem I might call
"Cocktails with Claude and Henri."

Stopped at Eddie's for an Egg
and Bacon Breakfast Sandwich.
Thanks to the Hen and the Pig!

Saw a gazillion birds flying in a pattern.
Great to know
where you are going.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-19T21:36:00.000-08:00

February 19

I'm fond of this lazy Saturday
after a good night's sleep:
laundry done, old mail
tossed, and my poetic essence
nourished.

Outside, an ancient wind
howls like a banshee,
miffed because
I won't let it in.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-19T21:33:00.000-08:00

February 18

The full moon is a purse,
a luminous accessory
that complements
the perfect stars in my eyes.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-17T19:41:00.000-08:00

February 17

Poetry group reunion tonight,
presided over by Jelly Bean the Cat.
We ate and drank gourmet,
read poems, and shared
the intimate affection of joyous words.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-16T12:22:00.000-08:00

February 16

Today I begin
my late winter
walking program.
I can't wait to put on my walking shoes,
reconnect with nature,
and invent the next phase of my life!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-16T12:14:00.000-08:00

February 15

Stanley Plumly, Maryland's poet laureate, gives a lecture on John Keats at Johns Hopkins University. He reads one poem. I want to hear more poems!!

First two lines from Plumly's poem, "Above Barnesville":

In the body the night sky in ascension -
the starry campion, the mallow rose, the wild potato vine.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-16T12:08:00.000-08:00

February 14

Will the real St. Valentine please stand up?

Really now, Number Three, your pink boxer shorts give you away!!

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-13T20:53:00.000-08:00

February 13

Dear Egypt,

Best Wishes on your Freedom. I'm so happy for you!!

Shirley from Baltimore

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-12T19:53:00.000-08:00

February 12

Ushering Jersey Boys at the Hippodrome -
2.000 patrons happily seated, and I'm
loving my $80 chair.
"Oh, What a Night."

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-12T08:26:00.000-08:00

February 11

I celebrated Friday
with two White Neighbors
and two Black Russians.
Some might call that diversity.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-12T08:23:00.000-08:00

February 10

Treated myself to a massage today;
I feel like a joyful pressed flower.
Place me
between the pages of my own book.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-09T15:22:00.001-08:00

February 9, 2011

Gabrielle Giffords asked for toast.

Her wounded brain is staging a comeback.

She wants to rejoin the world, one

healing cell at a time

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-09T15:20:00.000-08:00

February 8

I judged some bad poems today,

and, no, I don’t feel okay.

William Shakespeare would spit—

Robert Frost throw a fit,

if they saw the poems that I read today.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-09T15:19:00.001-08:00

February 7

I am Paul Bunyan

lumberjacking my way

into the week.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-06T06:09:00.000-08:00

February 6

Ever try to say February with crackers in your mouth?

Listened to an interview with Terry Tempest Williams—American author,

naturalist, and conservationist—on NPR’s On Being.

She discussed her book, “Finding Beauty in a Broken World” (2008),

about the art of mosaics. Some things I remembered:

I believe in the beauty of all things broken.

It is as though sunlight has entered the room.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-05T14:45:00.000-08:00

February 5

Eleanor Moomau , my dad’s cousin, born 1909 on this date.

A feisty former nurse and social worker, she took up painting

in her 80’s. Once, when I visited her in Petersburg, West Virginia,

we crashed a wedding reception – cousins in crime. She

carried a cane, more for emphasis than support.

Rain all day. I visualize

a Puddle Party. Anyone for duck hors d’oeuvres?

Dew drop daiquiris?

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-05T14:44:00.000-08:00

February 4

My gym ritual – I grab the elliptical machine in the front row

so I can watch the 3 PM episode of “Cold Case.” I love

the premise of an old murder solved, a soul freed on the

other side. I lose calories, keep my perspective.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-05T14:43:00.000-08:00

February 3

My chiropractor has a Wobble Chair in his Waiting Room,

a seat with physiological merit. On the opposite wall -

pictures of impossible exercises supposedly accomplished

on said chair. I only know I almost fell

off.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-05T14:40:00.000-08:00

February 2

Punxsatawney Phil – no shadow? – early Spring??

Wanna bet somebody bribed him, promised

the whole groundhog clan a trip to Disney World?

Anything to give us hope, a reason to keep

plowing through the endless snows of Winter.

Shirley's Soliloquies

2011-02-05T14:37:00.000-08:00

Shirley’s Soliloquies February. 2011

February 1

Gray day, like a dove’s wing

Today, I’m iced in;

I prefer icing!

A pink cake with vanilla frosting –

out jumps Al Pacino!

Winter coats my brain with make-believe.

Stephen Pitcairn

2010-08-10T19:58:00.000-07:00

Poem for Stephen Pitcairn - from the residents of Charles Village

2010-08-08T10:21:00.000-07:00

We felt the knife, too, an awful
stab in our collective hearts,

a pain so deep we have spent
sleepless hours thinking of you.

We want to bring you back-
our neighbor-your handsome face

once more animated, curious, kind.
We want to present you,

whole and vibrant, to your mother,
so connected to you

she listened to your birth cries
twenty-four years ago,

then heard over the phone
the unimaginable agony of your death.

A full moon blessed Baltimore that night
you stepped off the bus at Penn Station,

inhaled the balmy air,
your legs stiff from a long ride.

Always a walker, you made the choice
to travel by foot the last mile home.

A call to your mom wrapped your journey
in sweet family and warmth.

Perhaps, you spoke about your weekend
visit with your sisters in New York,

your plans to celebrate
your upcoming birthday with friends.

Evil appeared on St. Paul Street,
penetrated the neighborhood we love.

You pleaded for humanity,
but evil attacked.

In the darkness, a man emerged,
a gentle neighbor who held your hand,

comforted you. Oh, Stephen, please know
Reggie was all of us, on our knees in the street.

Stephen Pitcairn-son, brother, researcher, friend-
dedicated, promising, brilliant, fun,

we did not save you.
You died in Charles Village.

We cannot change what happened; even
the moon wept, her face a mother's wound.

Yesterday, your family in Florida buried you.
Did they spit out the word Baltimore?

Stephen, what can we offer you,
we who also grieve your loss:

a world without monsters, without scars,
a village without crime?

We offer you resolve, the will
to make good change.

We offer you a safe haven in our hearts,
a warm place at our dinner tables.

We offer you this poem, a space
in each lovely Charles Village garden.

We offer you a walk on a gorgeous day,
a meal at the Paper Moon Diner.

We offer to hold the hand
of everyone who needs us.

Stephen, in your duffle bag
that night you carried your dreams.

If every Charles Village resident
holds on to your life vision,

imagine the powerful impact
on this hazy, damaged world.

We give thanks for the days
you walked among us.

We give thanks to your parents
for sharing you.

In quiet, simple moments,
life moves forward:

small gestures, greetings, the way
we touch the flowers.

Stephen Pitcairn, your light continues,
brighter than the fullest Charles Village moon.

Shirley J. Brewer
July 31, 2010

Murder in Charles Village

2010-08-08T10:10:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since I've posted on my blog, and I had planned to revive with a focus on poetry. However, July 25, 2010, changed all that.

On that night, in my community of Charles Village, a young Johns Hopkins researcher, Stephen Pitcairn, was robbed and stabbed to death as he walked from Penn Station to his home in the 3000 block of St. Paul Street. Stephen was killed one block from my house. His assailants were a man and woman - both repeat offenders with long rap sheets.

Stephen's death stunned the community for its senseless violence. Stephen handed over his wallet. His attackers killed him anyway. He had been talking on his cell phone to his mother - who listened as her only son lost his life. Stephen was a gifted young man - two days shy of his 24th birthday - who had planned to become a physician. At the time of his death, he was focusing on breast cancer research.

I wrote this "Poem for Stephen Pitcairn," on behalf of the residents of Charles Village.

CHRISTMAS, 1982/Stoop Storytelling

2009-12-24T11:54:00.001-08:00

On December 14, 2009, I was one of seven storytellers at the annual Stoop Storytellers Holiday Show at Center Stage in Baltimore. The premise is that seven people have seven minutes each to tell a holiday story. The story must be a real one. I chose to share my holiday job of 1982 - when I worked as a Talking Reindeer at Hutzler's Department Store. BELOW are the recollections I put together to help me recall the details of my job. Hope you enjoy. HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL!!!

I was working as a speech therapist in Anne Arundel County…at Severna Park Middle School…I was Bored of Education that fall, and decided a part-time holiday job might perk me up.

An ad in the Annapolis Evening Capital caught my eye…
ATTENTION! SPEECH AND DRAMA STUDENTS! BE THE VOICE OF THE TALKING REINDEER AT HUTZLER’S DEPARTMENT STORE!!

Perfect…I talked to kids every day…but this would be in a more magical setting…and, growing up, I was always more of a reindeer person…

I went for my Reindeer Interview at the Hutzler’s Southdale store in Glen Burnie…or Glen BUR NAY…as we used to say… in late October…and I recall it was fairly short…I think they just wanted to make sure I was articulate and that my motives were honorable…I was told the job was mine…I don’t think there were a lot of people applying…

A word about Hutzler’s…. a wonderful department store that opened in Baltimore in 1858… …last Hutzler’s…the Towson store… closed in 1990…
Hutzler’s was a pioneer…at Christmas they featured two reindeer…Beau and Tinsel…more about them…in a sec…

My interviewer said I had to attend a mandatory …RTS… Reindeer Training School…

That was held on a Saturday morning in November in the attic of the Hutzler’s on Howard Street in downtown Baltimore…where all the reindeer lived off-season…

I remember that was an eerie moment…seeing all those reindeer in that dim attic light…surreal…you had to be there…very Twilight Zone…

In that attic, I learned the intricacies of the job…
the reindeer…Tinsel…the female…and Beau…the male…were beautiful, gentle creatures…pretty much full size…standing in front of a small silvery frosted hut…The person who was playing the part…entered the reindeer hut through a small door, sat down, operated controls to move the reindeer heads and their mouths…and spoke to children via a microphone…there was a small peephole right in front of the mic you looked through…to see the reindeer and the kids…

In the training session, we had the chance to practice the controls…and learn the Reindeer Rules……kind of a Reindeer Manifesto…about what subjects to avoid…while talking to the kids…specifically…politics and religion…

The instructor was serious about this…if you didn’t comply…that would be grounds for dismissal…

And I’m thinking…this is a no-brainer…what six year-old is going to start dishing about politics or the existence of a Higher Power?

I had no idea what was in store for me on this job…

My first night…I was very upbeat and excited… also a little nervous… it was a big responsibility for minimum wage…which in 1982 was $3.35 an hour…one false move…and I could literally destroy a child’s belief in Holiday Magic!!!…

I arrived at Hutzler’s early for my two-hour shift…from 6 to 8 PM…

Tinsel and Beau were in the Children’s Clothing Dept…which made sense…luckily…no one was around…and I was able to sneak into the hut with no one noticing me…

I closed the door…and that’s when I realized…for maybe the first time in my life…that I probably had a mild-moderate case of Claustrophobia…In RTS…we kept the doors of the hut open when we were practicing…so the instructor could help us and answer questions…

I mean it was like being in a chicken coop…not that I’ve ever actually been in a chicken coop…It was pitch dark in that hut, and I felt closed in…and the air quality wasn’t great…no fans or ventilation…and I noticed all that in the first minute…this was gonna be a long shift…

Now, the seat was kind of like a bicycle seat…and after trying to get comfortable… I figured that I’d probably need Preparation-H by the end of the evening– and I don’t mean H for Holiday…

The handles…Picture these handles that move back and forth…they allow you to move the reindeer heads back and forth…

The handles worked really well in RTS…

But my handles were loose…so if I wasn’t careful…Beau and Tinsel’s heads would sort of spin…and I didn’t want them to look like Linda Blair in “The Exorcist”…so I had to really focus on that issue…

The handles had triggers…so when you squeezed them the reindeer mouths open and closed…Tinsel’s trigger worked perfectly, but Beau’s trigger was kind of jammed…it needed some WD-40…which I didn’t happen to have in my purse…

I just had to squeeze Beau’s trigger really hard…kind of like milking an uptight cow…which resulted in a huge blister on my right hand…I actually wore a glove on that hand the rest of the season…but since Thriller came out in 1982…I considered myself fashionable…

I’d like to tell you that at least my microphone worked great …but there was a bit of a glitch there as well…you had to look forward and speak directly into it…or it would sort of misfire…

Now, this equipment required a lot of coordination…

But there was more…I had to talk in two different voices…one for Beau…and one for Tinsel…basically, I used a deeper voice for Beau…and a higher-pitched one for Tinsel…

I felt I needed to practice my Reindeer Voices…still no kids out front…so I decided to have Beau and Tinsel recite “The Night Before Christmas” since I had memorized it…

This would also distract me from a lack of oxygen, and various mechanical malfunctions…

I started in…’twas the night before Christmas (BEAU)…and all through the house (TINSEL)…not a creature was stirring (BEAU)…not even a mouse…TINSEL

All right…you had to be there…

Everything was going great…I forgot about all the discomfort…I was handling those controls like a Reindeer Pro…I was about halfway through my recitation when…

All of a sudden I noticed a large shape blocking the peephole…a shape with arms crossed over her chest and wearing a Hutzler’s nametag… she was scowling…obviously not someone immersed in the holiday spirit…

She said…in a loud voice …”Will you please shut up!!”…

“The reindeer on the other shifts keep quiet when there are no children around…you haven’t stopped talking since you got here…you’re driving us crazy”

I assumed by “us” she meant the other bitter and jaded employees…

I decided to take a break, and that’s when a woman approached the hut with her daughter…and left this child with the reindeer, while she did some shopping nearby…

Now, no one would do this in 2009…but this was 1982…and the mother was close by… I could sort of see her off to the side…I guess she thought it was like a babysitting service…I mean if you can’t trust a reindeer, who can you trust?...

I was about to enjoy an innocent conversation with a little girl…not realizing that she was precocious and probably the youngest graduate of the Larry King Correspondence Course…

She started with a barrage of comments and questions…

MY NAME IS TERESA
I’M FIVE YEARS OLD
WHERE IS YOUR PRICE TAG?
I WANT TO BUY YOU AND PUT YOU IN MY HOUSE
WHO CUTS YOUR HAIR?
MY FAVORITE COLOR IS PURPLE AND YELLOW
DO YOU LIKESPAGHETTI SAUCE?
BEAU, DO YOU HAVE ANY BABIES?
I HAVE FOUR DOLLARS IN MY PIGGY BANK

This went on…and on…not sure if the reindeer heads were spinning, but my head was…

Beau interrupted her…Teresa, what do you want for Christmas?

She said she wanted a vacuum cleaner! Now, what five-year old wants a vacuum cleaner!!

This time Tinsel takes over and says…Do you want an upright or a canister?

Meanwhile, I’m thinking…
Where is this child’s mother? Where is store security!

Then, Teresa makes a request that will likely put an end to my first night on the job, as well as to my entire reindeer career.

And by now I’ve only earned about 2 dollars…

She wants to sing a hymn…she’s been learning in pre-school… and she wants Beau and Tinsel to sing with her…

I’m thinking…hymn=religion=breaking the Reindeer Code of Honor…

Teresa starts in, with this voice…think early Whitney Houston…

JEESUS, MY LORD…
JESUS, MYYYYYY LOOOORD….

My reindeer pressure reaches antler level…

JEEE…SUSS…

Does this hymn have any other lines? Why doesn’t someone remove this midget evangelist?

Beau says…Hey, Teresa…how about a carol…Let’s sing
“Santa Claus is Coming to Town”…You better watch out…

I realize he made…you better watch out… sound like sort of a veiled threat…shame on you, Beau…

JEESUS, OH JESUUS, MY JESUS, MY LORD…

After about ten starts on this hymn, when I’m ready to run out of that hut and blow my cover…

Teresa changes focus again…she gets quiet for a second…Retreats…sort of like the ocean right before a tsunami…I’m actually getting a little worried…

Then, with her big brown eyes so full of joy…she says in her very big voice:

I LOVE YOU REINDEERS…

In that instant, I recall a shift, a softening of the spirit…

And so I looked out my peephole…and said…

We love you too, Teresa,

Tinsel, Beau…and me…

Finish your hymn…

We’ll hum along…

And Teresa…if you’re out there…I hope you got your Hoover!!!!

THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!

PS I finished my seasonal job as the Talking Reindeer…growing more confident with every shift. Tech issues were resolved…

In 1983, I was asked to return…the shifts were extended to four hours…but I politely declined…knowing I could never hope to experience the dramatic moments of my first year as a Talking Reindeer!!!!!

Me, Shirley, the Goddess

NEW KNEE

2009-07-05T07:54:00.000-07:00

One of my latest verses, composed in the voice of my favorite dog, Cotton Griffin (with her permission and input, of course!) I will soon post her picture, since we are now co-poets. Cotton's owner, John Griffin, recently had knee replacement surgery.

This could be my new vocation - animal poetry, and celebrating new body parts!!!!

NEW KNEE

(if you say this fast more than three times,
it sounds like you are
communicating with aliens!)

Oh, my gosh, I’m gonna pee,
Popsy’s got a brand new knee.

As soon as he stops feeling rotten,
I’ll take him for a walk – Nurse Cotton.

On days when he feels kinda sick,
I’ll give his knee an extra lick,

wag my tail a hundred times,
write more of these funny rhymes.

I’ll loan him my fancy shampoo,
won’t allow him to overdo.

I’ll make sure he does his exercises,
even the ones that he despises.

Soon he’ll feel as good as new,
despite his monumental boo-boo.

Right now, my Mom and I are sad;
when Popsy’s home we’ll both be glad!

He’ll be ready for a nap,
and I’ll look forward to his lap!!

So ends my “tail,” it’s quite enough;
hope you like my cottony fluff.

—by Cotton Griffin (channeled through Shirley J. Brewer)
June 25, 2009

Me, Shirley, the Goddess

QUOTE

2009-06-13T18:00:00.000-07:00

Finding myself, I found company.

__Cesare Pavese, "Ancestors"

DIGITAL DITTY

2009-06-13T17:43:00.000-07:00

No, I have not yet converted,
but before you call me perverted,
know I really like the static -
how can I be more emphatic?

I miss my trusty analog,
I'm croakin' like a grievin' frog;
oh, well, I gotta go with progress,
what's next is anybody's guess.

6/18 the cable guy will hook me -
I hope he doesn't overlook me.
I'll get back all my channels,
and celebrate in summer flannels.

Me, Shirley, the Goddess

KALEIDOSCOPE*

2009-05-24T08:26:00.000-07:00

The kaleidoscope image holds a special significance for me. The first gift I remember receiving was from my grandmother - my father's mother - Alice Crippen Brewer - when I was about five. Her present: a kaleidoscope! It was magical, whimsical, and I never tired of looking into the cylinder and seeing the endless combinations of colored glass or plastic, or jewels - as I imagined them.

The kaleidoscope became my metaphor. Bright colors, accessories, represent the real me, who is also the me I present to the world. The colors and patterns change, yet the effect is always luminous. Modest, aren't I?!!

In selecting a symbol to represent the spirit of PLORK (PLAY + WORK), the kaleidoscope became a natural choice.

The PLORKSHOP is a journey to help you access or connect with your Creativity. This process involves being open to see things in new ways, see things differently. Surely, the kaleidoscope is a reminder that new possibilities exist!

Plorking is a practice, and Plork exercises help you form new habits. It's a joyful process.

When I had a serious accident/fall in June, 2007 - six fractures - I decided in the emergency cubicle at Lawrence Hospital in Bronxville, New York, that if I could find ways to Plork through this experience, I could Plork my way through anything.

My healing journey was a long one, but I did accessorize it with the spirit of Plork!

In the hospital, I had a wonderful pain-management doctor who assigned a tune to me to help him remember my name. My song was "Put Another Nickel In, In the Nickelodean" - made famous by Teresa Brewer - no relation! Every morning, Dr. Gary would whistle that tune as he approached my room on his rounds. When he found out I was a poet, Dr. Gary always took time to discuss different poets with me. He liked Robert Frost. So, I began each day in the hospital with music and poetry. PLORK!

I wanted a way to motivate myself to make the difficult transition from my hospital bed to my wheelchair to the sink in the early morning. With a broken shoulder and pelvis, this transition was slow, awkward, and painful. Plus, I'm not by nature a morning person, but in the hospital you have to be. I called my friend, Terry, who is an Arbonne consultant. Arbonne is a line of Swiss skincare products I like. Terry brought an orange travel kit with a cleanser, toner, eye cream, serum, day cream, etc to my hospital room, and placed it near my sink. Each morning, when I woke up, I saw that spot of bright orange and went for it! Sometimes, it took me a half hour or more to get there. My reward was a glowing face to offset my broken body. PLORK!

Once I got home from the hospital in mid-July - I also spent several weeks recuperating with friends - I faced an entire summer in my 3rd floor apartment, except for trips to physical therapy. This seemed dismal, when everyone else was outside enjoying the sunshine, vacations, etc. I decided to focus on decluttering my entire apartment, one item at a time. Three friends came over to help get me started, and then I was on my own. The result was very satisfying. Eliminating physical clutter eases the mind in so many ways. I also reviewed all my poetry and writing materials, which was a huge task. I focused on examining all my poems and putting together a new manuscript, which I am convinced led to my book, A Little Breast Music. When the editors of Passager Books - Kendra Kopelke and Mary Azrael - asked me in early 2008 if I had a new manuscript, I had it ready to put in their hands. PLORK!!

Plork works in all kinds of weather, time zones, and circumstances. My Plork Humanifesto is my lighthouse.

When life situations present challenges, try the PLORK approach. Look through your kaleidoscope, and shake gently.

*With gratitude to my friend, Bonnie Schupp, for the kaleidoscope image pictured here.

Me, Shirley, the Goddess

PLORKSHOP - JUNE IN BALTIMORE!

2009-05-17T11:43:00.000-07:00

BREAKING NEWS!!!

Another PLORKSHOP on my June calendar!

Join me at the Village Learning Place (VLP) in Charles Village on Wednesday, June 24, from 6 - 7:30 PM.

PLORKSHOP: ACCESSorize YOUR CREATIVITY
(Plork = Play + Work)

Village Learning Place
2521 St. Paul Street
Baltimore, MD 21218

$10 Admission - Includes dinner and open bar - NOT!!! Does include a copy of the
Plork Humanifesto!!!

You'll walk in at 6, feeling vaguely uncomfortable about various aspects of your life and your diminishing portfolio. You''ll walk out at 7:30, feeling like a pleasant tornado has whipped through and rejuvenated your spirit.

Trust me, Shirley, the Goddess

Contact me for more Plorkshop information, or to register:
shirley@apoeticlicense.com
410.279.5487 Cell

See post below - May 9 - Shirley's Creative Pursuits - for details about Annapolis Plorkshop on June 10, 2009, at Tara's Gifts

FARRAH'S STORY

2009-05-17T10:45:00.000-07:00

Farrah Fawcett and I are the same age. Farrah turned 62 in February, and I'll reach that milestone in a scant three weeks. How is it possible?

1976 seems like yesterday. That was the year Farrah and her hair wowed America in her only season on Charlie's Angels. And I returned to my speech therapy position in Maryland - after a
1 1/2 year hiatus rethinking my career choice. As I recall, no cameras covered that event.

Over the years, I've followed Farrah news in the press, and applauded her dramatic talents -remember Extremities and The Burning Bed. After all, we blondes stick together.

Tabloid news was not always flattering, but who believes that nonsense? Several years ago, Farrah gained headlines again, this time when it was announced she was suffering from anal cancer, more uncommon than other forms of the insidious disease.

Last Friday, May 15, NBC broadcast a documentary called Farrah's Story, which detailed not only Farrah's struggle, but her strength in dealing with her medical fate. I watched this program, filmed by Fawcett's close friend, Alana Stewart, and actually took some notes.

The most striking visual image in the film was when Farrah chose to reveal to the camera - and thus to millions - her mostly shaved head. She shaved off her own hair, when she began to notice it falling out, rather than allowing the cancer to take it.

I think this act - this revelation - was the bravest moment I have ever witnessed on television - ever!!!!

Our American culture is so focused on physical beauty and perfection. Witness the opulent Red Carpets, when movie stars parade their expensive faces, bodies, gowns and accessories. Hair is a vital part of the entire package.

Kate Jackson, one of the brunette Angels, admits that Farrah's Hair attained the status of another character on the show, a fourth Angel!

Early in her chemotherapy, doctors tried treatments that would allow Farrah to keep her tresses intact. As the disease progressed, the treatment plan escalated, and she lost her famous trademark. Her reaction? She covered her head with a scarf, kept her bangs, and smiled into the camera.

I so admire the courage of this woman, my peer, my fellow blonde. I hope I display a similar courage when obstacles of any sort are placed before me.

Thanks, Farrah, for your inspiration. You were never more Beautiful. Sending you Positive Energy. On my birthday, June 5, I'll toast you and the gifts you gave America, especially now, at age 62.

Here are some of Farrah's words...phrases...wistful thoughts...I won't comment...just let Farrah speak:

this illness...stranger to myself...alone inside myself...pain I have never known...

I miss my life...celebrate a good dose of joy...how much I would miss the rain...

And how are you? What are you fighting for?

Me, Shirley, the Goddess

MOTHER'S DAY 2009

2009-05-10T22:41:00.000-07:00

This is my first Mother's Day without my mom, and it seems strange to me. My mom lived in Rochester, New York, and my home base has been Baltimore-Annapolis for almost forty years now. Still, I talked to her all the time on the phone, and visited her several times a year. I felt connected to her in ways that were not always verbal. She was such a lovely woman. I miss her greatly.

I thought I would honor my mom today by revealing her favorite passion: doing the dishes. Years ago, my dad surprised my mom one anniversary by having a dish washer installed while she was out for the day. She was furious! I think it was one time I remember when my mom actually stopped speaking to my dad for a day or so. Poor guy, he just didn't get it. He should have opted for the traditional flowers, candy, or a dinner at one of their favorite restaurants. like Glen Edith or the Oatka Inn.

My mom elevated washing dishes to the rank of sacred ritual. I mean, she loved the entire experience! She and my aunt - who lived with our family for many years - were best friends, and they took turns washing and drying. They also "dished" about local news and neighborhood gossip. And they laughed like schoolgirls. I have never seen two grown women who were funnier when they giggled than my mom and aunt. Their faces would crinkle, tears would flow, and yet somehow the silverware and glasses all got put away.

Holidays were the best. My mom usually wore red, and my aunt, green. After the meal, they'd be in the kitchen for what seemed like hours. They never left dishes until the next day.

I just realized I've been writing about the two most beautiful women in my life - my mom and my aunt. Both mothered me. I was lucky. Both lived to be 95. My aunt passed away in January of 2004, and my mom, January 10 of this year.

Did I mention I never use my dishwasher? I like the feel of Palmolive, and I'm never alone at my kitchen sink. I can hear the giggles almost before I turn on the water.

If it's true that heaven is one big feast, then I know who's washing all the plates.

With Love and Gratitude to Jean M. Brewer, and Alvina J. Morse, from Me, Shirley, the Goddess.

SHIRLEY'S CREATIVE PURSUITS

2009-05-09T16:17:00.001-07:00

Since my graduation from the University of Baltimore with my Master's degree in Creative Writing/Publications Design in 2005, I've been searching for my creative niche in the universe.

I started my own small business, called POETIC LICENSE. Check out my Web site at www.apoeticlicense.com. I write amazing personalized poems, really mini-biographies on one page. These poems are crafted with great care. I interview the family/friends of the recipient to get the information I need about a person's life, and fashion 14-18 verses which capture the essence of that person. I've written poems for weddings, anniversaries, even funerals. I once wrote a poem for a dog named Thunder who was graduating from obedience school.

I print each Poetic License on beautiful ivory parchment paper. Usually, I add a border. Poetic License poems make excellent and unique gifts.

Poems for businesses are included in my repertoire. What better way than verse to focus on the mission statement for your small business. Stand out from the competition!!

Prior to my graduation from the University of Baltimore, I received the first-ever UB Creative Writing Award for Excellence in Plorking. Plork = play + work, and is the keystone of the creative writing program at UB.

I have created PLORKSHOPS, to help others access their creativity.

A Plorkshop is an interactive experience, and fun, but it is much more than entertainment. It is an ode to joy, a vehicle for transformation, and an enriching experience that reduces stress and provides new ways of being present and positve in the world. Plorking increases the flow of creativity. The Plorkshop is a way to see things differently. Participants each receive a copy of the Plork Humanifesto to help reinforce new ways of seeing. Plork exercises accessorize this experience.

I will be giving a mini-Plorkshop at Tara's Gifts at 10 Annapolis Street in West Annapolis on June 10, 2009.

I am collaborating with my friend, Karen Guay, on a venture called PORTRAITS IN WORDS. Picture a dual frame with a fine art photograph on the left, accompanied by a personalized poem on the right - beautifully matted and framed together. What a perfect gift that captures the essence of a person (or a pet) at a moment in time.

These adventures should be enough to keep me busy!! For more information on the above, see my Web site for POETIC LICENSE - www.apoeticlicense.com

For PLORKSHOPS or PORTRAITS IN WORDS, contact me at shirley@apoeticlicense.com, or call me at 410.279.5487.

All for now, Me, Shirley, the Goddess

THE VISITOR

2009-05-09T15:41:00.000-07:00

If you haven't watched the 2008 film, "The Visitor," with the amazingly understated performance of Richard Jenkins - who was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actor this year - I highly recommend this movie.

I watched it last week, and found it one of the most touching and beautifully acted films I've ever seen.

Jenkins plays Walter Vale, a middle-aged widowed professor merely going through the motions of living his boring life. Until he meets up with two illegal immigrants who tap into his hunger for connecton and adventure.

This is a movie about making change - fueled by the power of new experiences and music. It's also a tragedy about the fate of illegal immigrants in the wake of 9/11.

I love films that explore authentic human emotions. Jenkins' performance is skilled and subtle.

"The Visitor" is a poem, and that's the highest accolade I can offer a movie.

HORROR HOTEL

2009-05-05T07:55:00.000-07:00

I grew up in Rochester, New York, where childhood passions included writing fairy tales, playing croquet, and watching horror movies!

When I was in the fourth grade, Rita Knipper and I spent an entire Saturday at the West End Theatre on Thurston Road, totally mesmerized throughout three viewings of "Tarantula." My father found us around 7 PM. I recall another video adventure at the Dryden Theatre, attached to the George Eastman House - my first viewing of "Phantom of the Opera" with Lon Chaney. That's when I truly knew I was hooked on horror.

While my friends drooled over the Big Bopper, I pined for Bela Lugosi.

Fast forward to the present. Last weekend, a rainy blur after all, Baltimore's own in-jeopardy Senator Theatre hosted a Weekend of Horror Films on the Big Screen. I happily attended a Sunday afternoon showing of "Horror Hotel," circa 1961, in which a young coed uses her winter vacation to research a paper on witchcraft in New England.

It was pure Grade-B Delight: Christopher Lee, endless fog, a trap door, dead birds, dark spooky roads. I loved every second of it, and it only cost a fin, not bad for the ambience of a real movie house.

2009 may present challenges in terms of the economy, recession, global warming, job losses, and other modern frights.

Give me a soothing horror movie any day. Nothing like a black cape and a graveyard to restore my equilibrium.

Me, Shirley, The Goddess

A LITTLE BREAST MUSIC

2009-04-30T16:36:00.000-07:00

Speaking of my book, it's a gorgeous creation, published by Passager Books in September, 2oo8.

My editors, Kendra Kopelke and Mary Azrael, did a superb job of organizing my manuscript, choosing poems and the sequence of poems, selecting the title from one of my poems, and producing a book that is visually beautiful. The designer, Pantea Amin Tofangchi, is a genius.

I'm self-promoting, and proud of it! Check it out on the Passager Books Web site:
www.passagerpress.com. The direct link to my book's page is: http://raven.ubalt.edu/features/passager/ALittleBreastMusic.htm

Poet Thomas Lux says: "A Little Breast Music" sings!

I'm available for readings, book signings, and other literary events, like Dancing with the Poets.

Me, Shirley, The Goddess

POETRY READING IN KENSINGTON, MD

2009-04-30T16:02:00.000-07:00

Last night, I read poetry from my book, "A Little Breast Music," at the Kensington Row Bookshop Reading Series. The bookshop is a jewel - a venue with charm and atmosphere.

I read with Michael Glaser, the current poet laureate of Maryland, who has such a warm personality. The audience was very responsive. It feels good to read in a place where people listen carefully to every word you say. Check it out: http://members.verizon.net/~vze4nbyt

The MC, Judy Neri, commented on specific lines and phrases from my poetry after I read. That was affirming, and something I'd not experienced before after a reading.

This month was smoother for me than last month, when my car was towed from the Chinese restaurant where we all met before the reading. As I told the group last night, I had a ten dollar dinner, and left a one hundred eighteen dollar tip! Made for a great story! Shirley/The Goddess

New Blogger in a Fogger

2009-04-30T15:51:00.000-07:00

Hi,

I'm trying this out, as my friend, Bonnie Schupp, set me up with a blog, but now I think I may be posting to my blog, rather than writing it, or is that the same thing?

Whatever, I'll soon figure this out! I'm a poet, after all, and want to master all these new communication tools. Let's see - Facebook, Linked In, Twitter. I'm not a quitter, and I want a following, without wallowing in the tech. What the heck, this could be fun, once I've run
out of excuses, or ruses.

Join me in this Escapade into Online Adventure, where I will explore. comment, chatter, cajole, and everything in between, except feed the squirrels.

The World is a Nut House, after all!!

Me, Shirley, The Goddess