Saturday, December 15, 2012


As a parent of 3+3, and as a Nurse of thousands, I am shocked, appalled, and deeply saddened by the recent death of innocent's at Sandy Hook School, in Connecticut. There is no such thing as closure, to those directly affected..........but sadly, we will hear that term bandied about in days to come. There is merely recovery, and moving on. That is what one does, when your child or loved one is abruptly taken away.

Not being one who is directly involved, but only a person over-inundated with what we pass as "news reporting", I must speak out in the way I know how.......and I will continue in this theme for the week.


Another day of tragedy
East Coast, West Coast
And in between,
Horrific stories
Rapidly unfolding
One more bloody
Media scene.

NPR, jumps on it
"Substitute all our programming today",
The sad and somber music
Appears so scripted and ready to play,
And I wonder, are we so inured
To the senseless tragedies
That unfold, with such regularity,
That even NPR
Already has a musical score
To accommodate solace and clarity.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


Children, as reporters
Of tragedy
In the aftermath,
Victims of media
Those vultures
Of a bloody bath.....

Children, the innocent
Of disaster,
Reporters will
Rape their souls
To collect the news, so much faster.

"How did you feel
Were you frightened
And scared?",
"The monster
Was hunting us
I wondered, would we be spared"............

But these are not the words
That a six year old speaks,
No, he was prompted by adults
Who are media freaks.

Six year old children recorded
On YouTube and Twitter,
Their words and faces remembered
Amidst the gore and the glitter,
Of newsworthy lights
And Connecticut mayhem,
Stored on distant massive servers
In society's brain stem.

What are we creating
With our instant-news mentality?
Just more photo-op disasters
And some over-the-top fatality.

Children as reporters?
In of itself, a style of crime,
They need love within a cocoon
Not celebrity and prime-time.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Days of Mourning

Days of mourning
A nation at a standstill,
Soul searching silence
Like ghosts in a landfill,
Wondering, "Why are we here
Amidst garbage and decay?",
These are the ways of guns
And their time-fuse delay.

Bought for protection
Purchased for fun,
Even I do remember
Being in the woods with a gun,
But now, as an adult
I'm aware of their danger,
Held in the hands
Of an unpredictable stranger.

Just who is unpredictable?
That is the crux,
What should be done about it?
Answers that would fill trucks.

There is no pure solution
Our Constitution allows,
For each and every one of us
To bear guns and not plows,
As crazy as that might seem
The 2nd Amendment, declares it so,
A guarantee for times of mourning
And burying on the plateau.


_ _ _ _ _ _ _


Eulogies for the children
And the school staff, who died trying,
Moved me to tears
Like my own family dying,
In essence, this truth
Is one I wish to embrace,
Children and their teachers
In innocence, show their face.

Innocence, what is it?
'Tis but, purity in action,
Surrounded by complexity
Where innately, those distractions,
Cloud our vision and purpose
Till our children show the way,
Innocence is their guiding light
Let's not forget this precious day.


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