A Found Poem: “Betrayal”

As I was diligently paying bills for the month, I grabbed a writing pad randomly from a stack near my computer. I found this poem I wrote last April. As I read it, I remembered the poem, know the poem’s persona, but I don’t remember the actual writing of it, though I know I was hurting badly during that time.

Oh, Christmas Tree . . .

Today has been a made scramble with banking, work on my Website, calls for my signings, and I put up our Christmas tree today. It’s one of the fake ones with like a million branches you plug into the trunk in alphabetical order. It actually looks real nice when decorated. I wasn’t in town the day after Thanksgiving, the traditional day of setting up Christmas trees in my family, and yesterday I was at ULM all day, so today was the first chance I had to get that chore done.

I’ve got appointments in Texas all day Thursday, so I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon and will return to Monroe sometime Friday. I’ve a signing at Cherry Books in Thibodaux, Louisiana,

Who is a racist?

I stopped grading papers long enough to check my emails. A friend sent me something that I couldn’t believe at first. I did some research, and it is truly all over the Web. Wow. I just had to post something on this, with the links for you to go to if you wanted to research it yourself. Evidently the University of Delaware stirred up a hornet’s nest with their recent residence life education program. I found the definition of the actual program here. You can download it yourself as a pdf file. http://www.thefire.org/index.php/article/8546.html

One problem with the program was their definition of who is a racist. Here is the definition of racist that was distributed.

Sunday: A Day of Recovery

Though I’d rather be on the road working, I find Sundays here in Monroe are vital for a catch-up day. Used not only for the University preparation (which thankfully is soon ending) but also for mapping out my business plan for the week for my writing business, as well as the needful chores of packing, cleaning, etc. for my next days of travels. The day is young yet, but as the weather is stormy, I’m sure I’m doomed to be trapped inside all day. At the end of the day, I may post another entry on this blog.

The last princess of Wales was Gwenllian. I’m working on a song about her for my Celtic program I want to do at schools. Here are the lyrics of the ballad I’ve started. (Please remember that this is a work in progress). You can learn more of Gwenllian here: http://www.ad-je-leaver.freeserve.co.uk/cydgg.htm

Gwenllian: The Last Princess of Wales

Taken from her cradle
By bloody English hands,
After Longshanks killed her father
When he took his final stand

Now a cradle in Snowdonia
Rocks empty in the night
And a little girl is crying
From hunger and from fright,

I hear a ghostly lullaby
In this castle