Poetic Priestess

Dad gives daughter a haircut with the floby..

Will be sharing various favorite pictures as we go.


************************************** ~ BULLY

http://hometown.aol.com/priestessmwitt/myhomepage/rant.html
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POEMS BELOW
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Keirsten ~
Angels on the Playground

She kissed her gentle Dad goodbye,
just three and a half years old,
all of Heaven heaved a sigh,
and watched her go.
She went about her day,
he to work, her to childlike play,
but little did he know,
she’d soon open heaven’s gate.

Her teacher tells the story,
of how they visited her,
innocently, she’d witness glory,
before her time occurred.
As only a child could see,
she saw them waiting there,
not knowing what was to be,
of their presence she was aware.

Yes, they came to guide her home,
to shield her from all pain,
they took her hand alone,
but her testimony would remain.
She saw angels on the playground,
as clear as you read these words,
angels all around,
now, the angels are with her.

To Grandpa Keith, Uncle Clint she’s flown,
with her arms open wide,
and though it seems she’s gone,
she just flew to be at their side.
And if testimony she could give,
her life and story would say it all.
though short the life she lived,
one angel, angels saw.

In memory of Keirsten Leigh Davis
8~6~2004 / 5~17~2008
Dedicated to her Dad Jamie, her brother Taylor,
her Grandma Gwen & to all of Keirsten's family.

Rachel

Odessa’s Cistern

Odessa enchants a fluid harp,
a refrain poignantly sweet and sharp,
and melancholy, the bluebells grow,
where ‘ere the stream’s haunting music flows.
Thus, a river twists and wends its way
around the notes that do bend and sway,
‘till melody carves a sapphire bed
of cascading song the river’s fed,
when waterfall’s born o’er jutting rocks,
that only time softens in its lock,
until in a mirthful harmony,
ballad’s memorized by stone and sea,
where black lagoon laps to greet the shore,
Odessa’s tears tremble all the more,
indigo depths of ink, spilling then,
dark libations at the feet of men,
then lyrical pooling overflows,
creates concerto of liquid prose.
Ethereal harps, the gods do kiss,
little wonder when man’s transfixed,
or creatures gentle and wild listen,
slake life’s thirst at Odessa’s cistern.

Rachel

A Garden’s Worth

The sweetest days were those of June,
One blossom’s rare and vibrant bloom,
She blessed this world while here,
But left a void in hearts so near,
And tender thoughts of June we’ll keep,
Too short her days, Lord, bless her sleep.
She left her best to grace this earth,
In truth my friends, a garden’s worth.

{In memory of June Lord}
Rachel

Monsoon

A thrashing and everlasting storm or wind
and rain comes without a welcome,
making people believe it’s time for
Hell’s come.

Rain will not stop, not even soon
it’s covered in water by time for noon.

A crowd of people run for sunlight,
though none are seen again by moonlight

the monstrosity had now died out,
and the water had drained away
without a doubt.

{My son Buddy's poem, from a classroom assignment, 5th grade}


RANDOM DOLOROSO

An orchestra strettas a fete,
strains harmonic, plaintive,
insidiously the melody seeps,
enveloping, contemplative.

Yet, from a balcony above,
in a duet of their own,
sweet seduction becomes
an operetta of moans.

As the keynote is struck,
the laudations are given,
one performance nigh done,
but another’s still bidden.

The lights dim in tone,
a peignoir slips to floor,
the symphony’s now gone,
to recompose once more.

So softly he whispers,
in an urgent low pitch,
the tempo grows quicker,
her sighs give the hint.

So feverish their recital,
sweat beads the brow,
could pleasure in denial,
felicific be found?

Their breathing slows
from an interlude ferocious,
one random doloroso,
their own magnum opus.

Rachel

Black Pearls

This world is full of beauty,
This world is full of pain,
Whatever your experience,
Some truths will still remain.
No one can change another,
At least not without consent,
And control is an illusion,
Men seek from other men.

One captain is in charge,
I speak not of destiny or fate,
But of the course that’s charted,
By those who seek its date.
It’s not just shipmates you have chosen,
Or the passengers who share a fee,
No, the trip from start to finish,
Is yours alone, wouldn't you agree?

But, there’s more to consider,
In life’s passage till the end,
For good or ill, we share a space,
With others, and the wise extend
Their precious best, good things to others,
And hearts, yea, even the broken ones,
Can share beauty or spread more pain,
Our vital choice 'til day we’re done.

And when at last one pale ship takes port,
With passage to world’s end,
Will you regret the way you’ve sailed?
Or will ye hoist your flag and grin?
Yes, the voyage is entirely yours,
And full of beauty, aye, full of pain,
But the legacy that’s left behind,
Will be all that will remain.

Will others see your face and reminisce,
Of joyful times that were?
Or will the memories be a tarnish,
No treasures left interred?
And over those last miles,
Will treasured things be found?
Ask, how will you share of yourself,
If no one willingly sticks around?

And oh, the nature of the beast,
For most people have some pain,
Some burden that they bear,
And some men live in chains.
These aren’t the measure of a man,
And us ladies, in all included too,
No, tis not what one's been dealt or given,
It’s how we deal, indeed, what we do.

This world is full of beauty,
This world is full of pain,
And whatever your experience,
Some truths will still remain.
So, take these pearls unto your graves,
But leave love and kindness for legacy,
Why? Nobody else’s chart, thy course,
And nobody else’s course for thee!

Rachel

Cupid’s Couplet
{Imperfecto! Yet, Magnificant!}

An arrow pierced my sanguine heart,
was lightening quick the wound of love,
no warning just a phantom’s flight,
twilight between worlds of light and dark,
an eclipse of the sun, moon, and stars,
the heavens aligned, amour’s hum,
and thereupon a tiny spark,
like arrow flew to bless Cupid’s mark.

Oh, cherub with your sweet intent,
we know not when your bow is bent,
nor when the angels will intervene,
but fear not when hope seems near spent
that real love for you was ne’er meant,
for bright Cupid’s ways are oft unseen.

And courage is the hallmark of,
those willing to take a chance on love,
don’t hide your heart or close it nigh off,
because old pain has torn yours up,
be brave, share beauty, no matter what!
let Cupid find a heart to touch,
and should Cupid’s aim be swift and true,
the love you give will come back to you.

So, don’t despair, don’t you be forlorn,
and broken hearts, don’t forever mourn,
nurture yourself, be open enough,
for lightening to strike, yes, wound again,
perhaps this time the pain to amend,
perhaps this time to bring true love.
Rachel

Best Man

The morning fog still has not lifted,
sheaths the day in a cold, wet blanket,
a wise old owl hoots in the distance,
o’er the horizon sounds have drifted,
the shrouded air a fit containment;
un-dampened acoustics, pray listen,
for when the air the sun doth warm,
we will not forget the misty morn.
Life’s almost a passing fancy too,
so soon over, so soon, so soon,
the end dawns early for some it seems,
eclipsed as it were, sun and moon,
you were a star, in hearts you gleamed,
and now earthly cheeks are damp with dew.
{In memory of Clayton “Chad” Prewitt
3/6/1971-12/23/2007}

Rachel

{Then, Now}

The fog lifts,
illuminating specters
in the mist,
and in the shroud,
a cloud,
of fatigues,
uniform,
marching to sky
and sea,
the silent beat of feet,
the crushing fall
of wounded,
a twenty-one
gun salute,
then,
heaven’s brave recruit.

To these
we pay homage,
not only they,
but to those
who walk
among us, those
that still can hear
echoes of war,
gun, mortar, shell,
time and its specter
of regrets,
now we hail
the survivors of
hell itself, brave souls,
now,
we salute the Vet.

Rachel

MORE THAN ONE MAN

The pierced soul that life’s not spared,
the soul that grief unkind hath cut,
the skeptic with vision now impaired,
the soul who hath seen more than enough,
the man whom pain has torn apart,
the route to healing remains within our hearts.

If you’re alone, find another to care for,
let grief your guiding light there be,
at once reach out; it will help you more,
to share and console, than alone to weep,
when grief is like an ocean’s tide,
preserve another who’s grieving nearby.

If your thoughts go the cynic’s course,
share hope with another who has lost sight too,
for in so doing we gain no remorse,
and often find our vision renewed;
there is a brighter, distant shore,
gain sight of hope by sharing it more.

When racked by ravages life can inflict,
don’t turn around and wound again,
it’s time to heal the pain, even if,
a burning arrow another pierced you with,
instead, give solace to other souls in pain,
and feel instead the healing touch’s aim.

Look around, the seas are rough,
so many get caught in life’s undertow,
no man’s an island in an ocean of
humanity, where rushing rivers flow,
and pain, its salt only washes over to heal,
if used as balm to nourish, strengthen, and shield.

Lovingly reach out your hand wherever you can,
because caring for another can save more than one man.

Rachel

Poetry

Can say a lot about little,
or a great deal in few words.
But, surely its beauty of expression,
ease and subtle, verbal ingenuity,
renders human utterances poetry.

We hear its voice
when a natural resonance
is married with intimate knowledge,
divine mysteries entwined and interred,
where music transmutes to words.

Be it murmured or howled,
the poet’s voice ever endowed
with fluent ease and finesse,
the wizard’s magic coterie,
‘tis the immortal elixir of poetry.

And to drink of its bliss,
at fountains forged by other lips,
is a pure joie de vivre,
the ecstatic flight of celestial birds,
poetry to mine ears, if ever was heard.
Rachel

A~dancing as they go.

Why does wind travel invisibly,
who whispers of it, but for the trees?
When their branches quiver, shake and bend,
the leaves just a~dancing with the wind,
dancing perfect sambas with the breeze.

How do tiny acorns grow a tree?
How do flowers bloom alongside weeds?
Could it be that’s their special design,
their profound reason, their unique rhyme?
Yes, and there’s one for you and for me.

Come watch a spider spin artful webs,
eye the eagles flying overhead.
Then trace vibrant rainbows in the sky,
and catch small glimpses of you and I,
we too are miracles, it’s been said.

See the larger universe unfold,
before your gaze, much like bud to rose,
manifold meanings to understand.
But life, it’s assuredly most grand.
albeit, some answers we can’t know.

Still, our purest purpose is to grow.
Why else would invisible winds blow?
And where do difficulties take us?
Right by perceived limitations,
some leaves just a~dancing as they go.

Rachel

I’M NOT GEORGE

I stripped my tank~top off
speeding down the highway,
but every trucker that passed,
just flashed a peace sign my way.
Hey, didn’t mean to start a war,
so, stowed them weapons away,
no more WMD’s on the floor,
yep, I saved the world that day.

Mistress Witt

Like Swallows

The swallows rose and fell,
on sun kissed currents,
and music drifted and swelled,
on one's memory still fervent.
Water lapped at the shores,
and then drifted away,
dreams capsized before,
setting sail that day.
And wings echoed in rivers,
like ghosts reunited,
a pale wind now shivers,
tossed, torn, unrequited.
Tamborines tossed to the floor,
the dancers all frozen,
in filaments, pieces torn,
from chords of corrosion.
Where wings of the swallow,
once glided with ease,
hearts empty, hollow,
now whistles the breeze.
A song sad and melancholy,
enraptures the night,
perchance when shall sweet folly
like swallows take flight?
On sun-drenched fields,
o’er moon kissed beams,
quiet whispers wield,
the softest dreams,
who would that night enfold,
in silver spell of winged gold.
Albeit, if only the currents bold,
could dreams like swallows hold.

La vue d'amour like swallow's flight,
returns as beating hearts unite.

{For a friend, all's not lost, love will return ~ like swallows.}
Rachel


LIVE on PURPOSE

Power can not feed or
Define one,
Or even recognize the same,
Less struggles ensue,
In mind’s exaltation.
(id)


Structure can not bind,
With its limitable means,
Of wood and steel,
For the unexpected can always,
Undo.
(other)


Seek not answers,
Rather
Pursue the riddles
You find,
Satiated by mysterious beauty.
(universe)


Perish not to thoughts,
Dreams only,
Exceed every boundary,
Avenue of self-containment,
Awaken.
(spirit)


Explore importune moments,
fitting desires,
Valid measures of self~ knowledge,
Bend not for the wind,
Become its very breath.
(soul)


Containment has its moments,
But inwardly we know,
Space and time,
Are much less restrictive,
Than our petty measures of such.
(ego)


The soul knows,
What even the mind confuses,
Courage is the hallmark,
Of all true
Wisdom.
(reveal)


For truth,
Can not be sought,
By those afraid,
Of what they might
Discover.
(freedom)


And a stifled life,
rarely worth living.
Passion gives meaing unto it.
And passion gives us power to
Live.
(purpose)

Rachel


Ode to Moms
{Salute}

Nestled in a Mother’s womb
is where the story starts,
tucked between her breasts
soon there beats another heart.
A journey thus begins,
as old as Father Time;
it’s a story that never ends,
a tale both yours and mine.
Through pain and a Mother’s tears,
this story echoes over years,
though each passage is unique and new,
sharing laughter, life, and fears,
for to be a Mom takes heart,
one ferocious as a bears,
courageous as a lions,
but then gentle as a prayer,
and all great moms share
a tender, simple truth,
from first breath until last,
love in our hearts took root.

Rachel


With All Her Love

She closed her eyes,
A smile on her lips,
Soared to the skies,
On her final trip,
With wings of a prayer,
And a lifetime of grace,
She was lifted there,
To a heavenly place.

Yet, a family left mourns,
The loss in her passing,
While her children adorn,
Her life everlasting,
A collage of fond memories,
Will embrace them still,
And in their assemblies,
Their hearts she still fills.

For her life was lived,
Blessing her childrens’,
And her life was a gift,
She gladly gave them,
She poured out her laughter,
A sweet wine over wounds,
Adopting life’s shattered,
Her heart had the room.

At her service they remember,
Her true beauty and joy,
Her songs and their timbre,
Lilting on one daughter’s voice,
A lifetime can sure seem,
Like it’s not long enough,
So, she tenderly beams,
Steadfast love from above.

In memory of Cheri’s Mom,
Arlene Frances O’Keefe Tysver
August 6, 1940 ~December 6, 2006
Rachel

The Poet Knows

A poet listens…
to the rich, throbbing voice
resonant with laughter,
ebullient with joy,
dancing with mirth.
A poet also listens…
to the cries of sorrow,
resounding with grief,
overflowing with tears,
full of sadness.
A poet hears.

A poet feels…
the tides of the ocean,
emotions that sway like a river,
currents that rage and pull,
whirlpools that eddy and lull.
A poet also feels…
the moon that commands these,
the sun that enlightens,
the stars that guide us,
the planets swaying in rhythm.
A poet touches.

A poet intuits…
the thoughts that would entrap us,
the songs that would touch us,
the music we are hearing,
the medicine for the healing.
A poet also knows…
the words to describe these,
the keys to our freedom,
the travails, climax of expression,
the heart of sweet mysteries.
The poet knows.

Rachel

CRAZY DREAM

Into the void, abyss I stared,
darkness, darkness everywhere,
where once a light had brightly shone,
now is empty, now is gone.
My friend has been called home,
but the darkness lingers on.

I’m not sad to say I knew you well,
I have so many stories I could tell,
you were life exemplified,
yet, I couldn’t describe you if I tried.
You were loved, no one denies,
too soon, too soon came the night.

You came to me, it was a dream.
You said, it’s not as dark as it would seem,
I’ve moved on, and so must each of you.
I said, but we never wanted to.
You said, the light was beautiful, serene.
I said, we will miss you…Crazy Dream.

In memory of Gary
June 24, ’64 - Sept. 16, ‘06
Rachel

The Creator in Me:

The rushing wind, a mighty noise, the crash of thunder, a still small voice ~

The ancient wisdoms, the ceaseless sea, the heart of people ~ who would listen to these ~

The prayers of one, the prayers of all, no -one's too grand, and none too small ~

Call from the mountain or the valley so still, the dawn at daybreak or night's inky spill ~

When your voice goes unheard by the surge of mankind, and creation's just groaning for lack of a sign ~

Seems no one is listening, ‘tis simply not true... faith comes from believing, knowing, there's something greater than you.

On an island somewhere, a small flower unfurls, a child wishes on a star heaven has hurled ~

For those who seek, enlightenment will come,
The question, the answer, all knowledge, the sum ~

But as a gentle reminder that no voice goes unheard, we are sent small miracles with each new birth ~

Each sunrise and sunset, each rainbow, each storm, don't take these for granted and don't be forlorn ~

When ere death reminds you to appreciate life, or when loss is experienced, remember each time ~

That your voice is as unique, as a babe's innocent cry, someone IS listening, to even the smallest of sighs ~

Creation may groan, but there's hope and there's light, and men can learn from each other, even cease to fight ~

For God's not on some distant galaxy, high up, far away, removed from our problems, but hears what we say ~

You may even see the light through different lenses,
Just as there are different cameras for different men ~

Or you may think there's nothing there to see at all,
A human perspective, man's limitations recalled ~

But I can see the Creator in everyone I meet, everything I experience, and all that I see...

And I'm profoundly affected by the Creator in me.
Rachel

My Christmas Card To You:

Christmas comes only once a year,
the season of good will and cheer,
yet, everywhere I turn and peer,
there’s pain, heartbreak, sadness, and tears.

Some have loved ones overseas,
I say a prayer for all these,
some have loved ones, who are ill,
I pray health and peace, come what will.

Some have sadness beyond comprehension,
I pray for joy’s divine intervention,
some have great grief, with which they must cope,
I pray for the spilling of sweet hope.

Some have anger, rage, hate, even fear,
I pray their hearts will forever clear.
Some have suffered through difficult times,
I pray angels for them will ease and guide.

This is my Christmas card to each of you,
and love’s best blessings for the whole year through.

Rachel

He’s Okay

Sometimes men lose their way in this crazy world,
with no Savior to save them, no Master, and no Lord,
but Clint knew better, he didn’t go that way,
he said, “Preacher, don’t worry, I’m okay.”

In this life, we’ll have troubles, we’ll have grief,
trials and tribulations sometimes more than knee-deep,
but Clint knew better, he was prepared for that very day,
he said, “Preacher, don’t worry, I’m okay.”

Now Clint, he had a simply beautiful recipe for life,
he loved God, his Momma, and his wife,
and if you asked him I know just what he’d say,
he’d say, don’t worry anymore about me, I’m okay.

For Jesus called Clint home to be with Him,
one more shining jeweled light in heaven’s diadem,
and angels are rejoicing to have him home, they say,
“Don’t you weep, don’t you worry anymore, he’s okay.”

In tribute and memory of Clinton Grey Piper & in honor of his loving Mom. ~ Love Rachel

VANISHING HEROES

They rose above,
They went beyond,
The empyrean to claim,
And left behind,
Our grieving kind,
And requiem’s refrain.

Amongst the forlorn stars,
A guiding light is seen,
Therein the heady heights,
For was their quest,
To give their best,
Through this their final flight.

Now a hollow feeling,
Creeps into the souls of men,
A deep and dark despair,
The night seems long,
But we are strong,
One day we’ll meet them there.

Still, we weeping mourn,
Death’s gaping tragedy,
Hearts and heads bent low,
Yet, more tragic still,
That man would kill,
For hatreds’ blood will flow.

Now man should pray,
To also rise above,
For the inner man’s the foe,
We should, as they,
Our light display,
And be someone’s hero.
Dedicated to downed Deputy Matt and Dioggi his canine partner.
Rachel

EIDETIC WHISPERS

Whisper to me,
I’ll capture the whisper,
Until my lobes are carved,
With hieroglyphs,
Then trace a velvet whisper,
Onto my skin,
Until you sink into my very bones,
Like the rushing wind,
And draw my lips,
To your cerulean seas,
That I may drown,
In hungered thirst;
Whispers I can’t forget,
Tasting of you,
Open my eyes,
To the images of you,
Seared and sharp,
A thousand dreams,
Surreal, yet eidetic too,
And when at last,
My nostrils have your scent,
Memorized in every cell of me,
Recall me then,
In eidetic whispers.

Rachel

Watching Over Me

Last night in the middle of the rain,
I broke down and called your name.
Oh, how quick the memories came…
rushing back to me.

In a world of pain, sometimes insane,
I can feel your hand, yes, it remains.
And I ask -where did you go? A voice explains.
Can’t you see?

I’ll always be right where you are,
your beautiful, your guiding star,
I’m the pieces of your broken heart,
every single beat.

So, I went to sleep, and I had a dream,
that you were there watching over me.
I woke up yet, nothing seemed…
quite as frightening.

And I know love’s not lost, it never leaves,
although, sometimes death’s just like a thief,
but no, it can’t steal love, what a relief.
You still love me.

Last night in the middle of the rain,
I broke down and called your name.
Oh, how quick the memories came…
rushing back to me.

9 /11 - We remember.
Also dedicated to those
who grieve.
Rachel

Scene Dropping -

Tulips dash across the field,
cause a splash, color reveal;
hummingbirds hover,
butterflies flutter,
o’er summer grass lit surreal.

Heat-waves tumble like a weed,
thunder rumbles, rain secedes,
for lightning hath struck,
the rainbows bend luck;
leprechauns grumble to me.
Rachel

HEMORRHAGING

A trickle slides over the edge and pools,
into a puddle as gravity defines the flow,
a small fountain at first, becoming more,
gradually growing beyond expectations.
A lake has formed from the tiniest trickle,
a liquid cohesive binding the depths,
swirling drops have united as tears,
or perhaps as rain or blood would do...
but, it was just a singular vein you say,
just a vein of thought, thoughts that became,
words that slid out in a trickle,
now an ocean can’t hold the hemorrhaging.
Rachel

YOU DID THAT FOR ME

You lit the flame, called forth the genie,
The wild you tamed, gently and sweetly.
You heard the song, you touched the keys,
You righted the wrongs that were done to me.

You said my name, you peered inside,
When needed you came; you did not ask why.
You were the perfume that flowers envy,
The sun, stars, and moon, a horn of plenty.

You took my secrets, you made them yours,
But they weren’t trinkets, to you they meant more.
You washed my skin, the dust away.
You looked within, but decided to stay.

You know me now, what can I do?
I don’t comprehend how; I just know there are few,
Who take the time or have that depth,
To search till they find what I have kept.

You reached for my hand, as you held out yours,
But you did not demand; you never used force.
I was searching for land, but adrift on the sea,
Once drowning, I stand.....You did that for me.
Rachel

SuperMom:

She’s the Easter bunny and Mrs. Claus,
the good Tooth Fairy, the nurse with gauze,
whenever they unwitting scrape a knee.
She’s the homework helper, school-bus driver,
homeroom mother, field-trip rider;
she is as busy as a bee.

She’s doing double-time,
with no kids left behind.
Whether she stays home, or she drives to work.
You can bet motherhood comes first,
Even when her diaper-bag’s a purse,
She’s backbone for the country that she serves.

Whether it’s football, swim, or dance,
she affords each kid a chance,
to see the world with even bigger eyes.
And it’s the hardest job of all,
but she’s the one they call,
whenever invariable trouble doth arise.

She’s the bedtime-story teller,
the Girl-Scout cookie seller,
the grandma with the grandkid on her knee.
She’s the homemade cookie baker,
in a crisis don’t underestimate her.
She’s SuperMom, and you know she’ll always be.

So, show her your appreciation,
gratitude, and cooperation.
She truly is the best at so many things.
And when the day is done and over,
thank heaven for your Mother,
the one who’s sacrificed so graciously…

She’s the birthday-wish fulfiller,
hug-giver, and love-healer.
She’s everything I list and so much more.
Today give her the props,
because everyday she is phenom!
And it takes one special lady to be Mom.

To Super-Moms everywhere,
but a special dedication to my Mom-Libby & a few unnamed great neigbor ladies,
to Betsy, Niki, Riss, Deb, Kathie, Lisa, Pam & some new dedications to more than a few lady friends on a certain forum I visit. ;) Bless them all.
Rachel

LUNE-struck

I’m always there.
Soliloquy of the sun,
a reflection when day is done.

I have distinctive faces.
Don’t underestimate my dreams,
surreal as they may seem.

I wax and wane quixotic,
an ocean’s tide and lull,
crescendo, and I’m full.

Crones and harpies chant of me,
the lovers, they only love.
I’m just what they dream of.

And in a wisp of cloudy veils,
I keep a watchful eye,
starry visions waltzing by.

A shadow just passed o’er me,
now far below me dives the loon,
all transitory moments to the moon.
Rachel

MARIA’S SCARF

Flesh heals; soft blue, yellow bruises fade,
Fade behind the familiar, ragged scarf she wears.
Her eyes have lost the shine they once knew, it’s gone.
She smiles briefly when a friend visits, not for long.
Her homemade pasta still taste the same to her
Few visitors, but those who know her
Recognize automatic motions, forced routine
And tomorrow will be the same. More black
And blue shame to cover for him, her accent
Rich with the sorrow, he knows, he knows.
Knows she is fearful to leave with babes on her hip,
And a tongue twisted by an unfamiliar language.
Yes, flesh can heal, hearts mend, even bruises fade,
But Maria died today, her familiar scarf soaked in tears.
Rachel

SIREN of the JUNGLE:

I am woman, hear me roar!
I clean apple juice off the floor.
Do the laundry every day,
Vacuum and dust, horray, horray!
Dirty dishes don’t stand a chance,
With kids, hello...neither does romance.
Little mouths always wanting fed,
With motors for their tongues instead.
Windows, windows..can’t see through them,
I guess, I guess, I’ll have to do ‘em.
Fingerprints both high and low,
Smears don’t mysteriously disappear you know,
But carpet stains, where did those come from?
House rules state: Dispose of your gum.
Not under the sofa, not under your chair,
In the trash can; definitely, not in your hair!
Make the beds and clean the toilets,
Dust the pictures, don’t grimace..enjoy it!
Kiddies room was a victim again,
Needs disaster relief; amen, amen.
Suppertime, please, everyone eat,
One and the same thing...wouldn’t that be neat.
Oh! The joys of homework, baths and bed,
If only they could understand the joy instead.
Dust to dawn or dawn to dust,
Going crazy; yep, ladies, that’s us !
And if you fellas don’t understand,
Be like my man and lend a hand.
Women appreciate some jungle relief,
Makes monkey love a real possibility.
It is the wild kingdom and that’s for sure,
Enriched with ah!...soggy, baby manure.
Edited for space..motherhood is much more
No surprise then, is it? That women roar!
Rachel {3-12-'02}

SWEETIE-PIE

He called her his Sweetie-pie
With a well known twinkle in his eyes
The most apt name that could be found
For the sweetest lady anywhere in town!

Always ready with a gentle smile & kind word
Demeanor so pleasant & always concerned
With other’s welfare & other’s well-being
There is a huge gap left behind with her leaving

But the angels are no longer left alone to brighten the sky
Since they carried home his/our Sweetie-pie.
In loving memory of Willadean C. Johnson
{May 1-'01}|
Rachel

SWEET CHARIOT

Heaven parted,
And angels did descend,
For they came to take you home,
Take you home with them.

Still, the sky is darker now,
Your parting was abrupt,
But the heavier the clouds,
The greater is His love.

Winged chariot ascended,
Then took you home on high,
And though your life has ended,
We need not say goodbye…

Watch over us sweet little boy,
From the heavens up above,
Heaven did not steal our joy,
Now we’re just looking up.
{In memory of my cousin Adam Wilde
And his friend Jason,
Both died in a car accident November 3, 2002.}
Rachel

Icon
Professor Puckett 1936-2005

He was everything they wrote and more,
Than was said in his obituary.
As I read it I walked back through his door,
And met a man far from ordinary.

He took the road less traveled.
He brightened many lives.
He was kind and good, he dazzled.
He was extraordinarily wise.

The tears begin when I think of him.
He was a teacher through and through.
He stood above most other men,
Although in stature he did that too.

He’d found his destiny,
Guiding youthful minds,
He knew he was the best you see,
For he’d tell us so with a smile.

We conversed from time to time,
His wife and children were much adored.
They were the reason to his rhyme,
They gave him strength to soar.

He was an icon of intelligence,
And a professor sans pareil,
He left behind the evidence,
As his students will testify today.

I don’t want to say goodbye,
Or close that classroom door,
Though I know he gave us wings to fly,
Though I know again he soared.
Rachel

I’LL TELL YOU A SECRET

We miss you now,
For all of your quirky ways,
You were a personality,
And you left us in a daze.
Yet, I’ll tell you a secret,
We won’t forget,
You’re in our hearts to stay,
And every time we think of you,
We’ll keep the tears at bay,
But, I’ll tell you a secret,
It won’t be easy, so we’ll laugh,
Sharing memories of great times,
We’ve had with you over years,
Although, it wasn’t a secret that,
You were an intelligent, funny man.
You touched a lot of hearts, like mine,
You always had the time for us,
So, I know that you won’t mind,
When I tell you a secret….
We’ll miss you Traviss.
I.E. Traviss Meeks, from his many loving friends.
Rachel

“HOW YA’ DOIN’?”

He’d ask, with his sly grin,
And you knew he really cared.
He’d wink at the ladies, debate with the men,
And outwit all the fastest guns there.

He was un-surprisingly dapper,
In his tennis shoes, a t-shirt, and blue jeans,
Because his style never really much mattered,
For his grin was what lit up the scene.

That’s how we’ll all remember,
‘Ole Mike, now that he’s passed.
Sadly, I guess this was his December,
For all of us, it came much too fast.

But he’s smiling down on us now,
That same sly grin on his face,
He knows just how we’re doin’ somehow,
As the stars twinkle with new light and grace.

I’ll miss you Mike, each and every time,
I sip coffee with our many friends akin.
You left fond memories and smiles behind,
You left them in the hearts of your friends.

Yet, I bet the angels are smiling now too,
They took a good one home that day,
“How ya’ doin’ Mike,” we sure miss you.
I’m just betting “Shortcut” led the way.

Dedicated to the memory of John Michael Schuler.
God bless his wonderful family and his many grieving friends.
Rachel

Poets’ Rhapsody

Joy succumbs to sorrow
like a page aflame.
Winter comes tomorrow,
summer ends the same.
A bridal veil for wreath,
slippered toe in grave;
what love can soil bequeath,
when death desires a slave?

Pressed flowers in a book,
the faintest scent of all;
like shadows light mistook,
a memory half-recalled.
And like a distant dream,
some things are ne’er the same.
But words though fickle things,
retell the life so named.

‘Tis better than unsaid,
such stars were meant to shine.
Oft stories go unread,
until a light would find.
Sorrow can’t thus extinguish
all hope, all good, all light,
how yet will joy relinquish
man’s day to stars of night?

We linger but a moment,
what doth man leave behind?
While some echo in sonnets,
some juxtapose no rhyme.
For life it self’s a question,
another mystery unsolved,
but in death a retrospection,
the empty page resolved.

In respectful memory of my dear friend Rick Olivo’s beloved Dad.
Rachel

WILD VIOLETS


In a field across the way,
My favorite flower grew.
I would pick them on the morning’s gray,
When they were moist with dew.

I’d give them to my hard working mom,
And this is what I’d say to her then,
“I love you, so much...lots and lots!”
As the violets I’d arrange, though short in stem.

They were my favorite flowers you see.
Wild and colored with deep purples and greens,
Spirited, feisty, and beautiful to me,
My soul was lifted on sight, above depressing things.

My mom would stop, forgetting problems and bills,
Just to admire those violets wild.
Our hearts would lift, the miracle was real.
I learned something then, even as a child.

That when you come upon wild flowers,
And you give them to someone you love.
Petty things disappear, if for but an hour,
And beauty really is as beauty does.

For there never was and never could be,
A hothouse orchid to match the violets beauty.
For growing there in the field next to me,
Was a miracle of the first degree- truly.

Not only did I see an artist’s hand,
In each delicate petal and leaf.
And not only were the colors so grand,
That I wanted to laugh and weep.

But the place that those wild violets grew,
As if placed by some unseen hands.
As if someone wise already knew,
And had an omniscient plan.

To share the beauty with a tender youth,
To lighten a young mother’s heart.

To me that is the ultimate proof,
That beauty isn’t just grandiose art.

Beauty is a gift, one meant to be shared;
As you, my friend, do each and every day.
That’s why I hand you wild violets and care,
That you know what I’m trying to say.

Because you are like those violets to me,
But I’m not the only one who appreciates;
The flower, the beauty, the spirituality;
Of a woman who generously shares and creates.

Beauty every day, not just on the outside, but in.
A lofty purpose for which you’ve been sent here.
Much like those violets growing wild, my friend,
Some may not see the miracle, but to me is clear.

Wild violets on a little plot of earth across the way,
My favorite flower I now give symbolically to you.
Just like you give to others each and every day.
May you understand and know the miracle -like I do. {dedicated to Niki}
Rachel

FATHER

In gratitude I say your name
With love I remember it well
You are the misty morning rain
That on the ground just fell

You are the sunlight afterwards
The wind that blows & cools
You are sweet music I just heard
You are your many tools

You are a mountain of support
A refreshing laugh or joke
You are the man on the tennis court
A genuine & ingenious bloke

You are the daddy my kids adore
And the grandpa they love to see
The father I miss each day more
The man who gave life to me

But whether on the rain or wind
Tennis courts, tools, or falling water
I count my blessings each time when
I get to call you .......Father.

Dedicated to John 111,
John IV (husband)and in memory
of my beloved dad Kenneth CW
Rachel

ODE TO MOM

We may not be connected by blood,
But truth of the matter,
I wish I was your daughter.
My children call you grandma,
I know I can call you mom,
Your son, my children’s father,
He’s a gift straight from you & God,
I owe you that....for starters.
We don’t automatically agree,
On every little thing, but there is love,
And where there is this, you know,
Flowers in the garden grow.
I give you thanks for the son you raised,
The job you did should be much praised,
You should also know, as far as I’m concerned,
In motherhood from you I’ve learned.
So, thanks Libby, two sons you’ve raised,
But how shall I phrase, the gratitude I feel?
Thanks they express still....& should,
Now your daughter does with praise & love.
{dedicated to Libby)
Rachel

WHAT YOU GIVE

Realms of heaven and of earth,
My senses reel in contented mirth.
Found within a joyful soul to soar,
I am not without my sunlit shore.
I have the wings that will surpass,
Life’s pettiness that soon doth pass.

There is a rainbow that covers it,
The storms, the rain and sandy grit.
There is nothing beneath the sky,
Will wash the sunshine had goodbye.
For time itself will justly manumit,
Clouds and tears away on dit....

For hell resides within the heart of man,
And that’s where heaven too must span.
That’s where love and hate will live or die,
Sheltered by the thoughts we think and cry.
Is it any surprise at all? Most would try deny;
Games of pass the buck, rationalize and justify.

The solemn truth lies within each one’s soul and only,
An individual can sell himself the martyrdom baloney.
For I am responsible for my state of mind and attitude,
And no man below could change that; this much is true.
Same thing goes for each and every one who doth live,
What you receive in life ends up being....what you give.
Rachel

THROUGH THE NIGHT:

You took my hand when I was low,
And life had pushed me down.
You lifted me with loving words,
Until my strength I’d found.
You met a need within my heart,
Somehow, you knew the way.
Where hope was dim, you lit a spark,
And night turned into day.
Your kindness did my faith restore,
Your spirit shines with light,
Surely sent through heaven’s door,
An angel pure and bright.
So, as you touch my hand and leave,
I pray that others you will aid.
Those low in strength and sore in need,
Will find to them you’re bade.
When in their darkest night and hour,
They’ll feel your loving wings,
Then they will know your healing power,
And through the night they’ll sing.

Rachel

The Alchemist

I’ve flown on wings of angels,
High above the earthly fray.
I’ve touched the edge of darkness,
When sun’s light steals from day.
I’ve dreamt the lofty dreams,
Shimmering between the worlds.
I’ve swum the murky channels,
Transformed sifting sand to pearls.
I’ve tasted manna’s honeyed nectar,
When bitter would’ve pursed the lips.
I’ve blessed to curse’s shame,
Until a steadier course was shipped.
My sails and life-long travels,
Though touched by storm and wind,
Veer not, for I’m safely harbored,
By a guiding light within.
No small fray hath the power,
To despoil a single hour.
No storm, no harm’s intent,
Will break the willow bent.
And if you pause to wonder,
The supple steadiness of my soul;
Know wind and wave won’t plunder,
A spirit the Alchemist did mold.
Rachel
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rachel's nom de plume {Pen Name} ~ Mistress Witt~

LYRE OF FOOLS

With stylistic extemporization,
A melody he doth play.
His fingers dance to perfection,
Her strings he gently sways.

In rhapsody she answers,
Harmony sweet & clear.
Though ephemeral their banter,
Tis music to the ears.

The planets synchronize,
And pander to enchantments pull,
To see sonnets materialize,
And hear the poetic lyre of fools.

But in a lonesome tavern,
A man bends o’er his guitar;
Whilst the moon whispers to saturn,
Listen! As Venus danced with Mars.

Mistress Witt

LYRE OF PRAISE

With golden strings and pearls inlaid,
Musical instrument fit for a sovereign,
A neck sleek, with one name engraved,
Shaddai, Lord of lyre and maudlin.
Melody of glorious, triumphant praise,
Fills hallowed halls in sound doctrine;
The likes of which doth as tears reign,
Halos upon candles lit and un-forgotten.
Hanukkah sings with lyre and remains,
Untouched by the despicable bin Laden,
For in the glory and celebration sang,
Of our feast and holidays held solemn,
The lyre of praise still bears the name,
Which can never be but one- SHADDAI.

Happy Hanukkah!
Mistress Witt

LYRE of SOULS

The sweetest refrain ever heard,
A stippled sky would rend.
Musique of low melodic voice,
Man alone could never wend.

But were he to lyric magic tuned,
Reverently investing his life, his soul,
Lending his heart and tender touch,
As up in heaven above, so too below.

The zenith of rhapsodic bliss,
Would ne’er be reached in time,
Without the gentle hand of love,
That marks such strain sublime.

A man alone could not hope to coax,
The commanding chords of angels,
Even if a million strings were plucked,
Beneath illumined stars that dangle.

For such magic takes two; uncommon, whole,
And cast spellbinding beauty with a lyre of souls.

Mistress Witt

LYRE UNBOUND

How tremulously the notes did fall,
Borne on soft winds as the birds,
And to the mockingbird gently call,
His winged breast gently stirs.

Plucked from strings of feathered gold,
Eloping with ease on currents bliss,
A melody in secret chambers stole,
To then languidly caress in a kiss.

Thus to its spell the mockingbird replies,
With mimicry’s blushing tones,
Whence arrows alight like butterflies,
Where the lyres before had flown.

Then there do rest of breaths deplete,
A common ground to meter’s breeze,
Dispersing winds command reprieve,
And to the common ears give ease.

This soulful flight, the lyre unbound,
So joyful, sweet, untamed;
As muses steal to higher ground,
There a vast empyrean to claim.

Mistress Witt
~
LYRE’S SERENADE

Beneath the ledge of balcony and baluster,
The gentle floor of earth brings music to stir,
As winged creatures of song fill perfumed air,
One’s ballad of love floats up to lady so fair.

When to delicate ears the sounds have risen,
To the balcony by sweet sonnets she’s bidden,
Her blushes hidden by the shadows of eve,
As a knave below to his beloved maid sings.

Dulcet tones drift up lyrically on wind’s wings,
As the lady is wrapped in a glow of moonbeams.
Daintily arrayed, in the halo of night clad,
Unaware, until now, of the effect she’d had.

For in fervor of love’s heady desire for her,
His serenade he performed, her heart to stir,
Beneath the ledge, he knelt to earth’s silvery floor,
Caressing the roses of guilded balustrade adorned.

Then with lyre’s web he spins a staircase unto,
His beloved, who then to his arms doth swoon,
Bending again he kneels before her enchanted,
With trembling fingers a red rose she is handed.

The damsel blushing, accepts his single red rose,
Bids knave to his feet with her perfumed prose,
Now the balcony becomes their promenade,
As in pleasure they waltz to lyre’s serenade.

Mistress Witt

MISTRESS WITT’S LYRE OF YULE

A distant star lights up the sky,
As harmonic notes entwine the night,
Of harps, of lyres, of angel’s cries,
To bid the weary world delight.

Enchanted music on a winter’s eve,
Shepherds pause their flocks to tend,
And angelic voices their ears receive,
Through chill night air angels descend.

Whilst somewhere in a dank, small stable,
A child-King was born this night,
The star leading to His humble cradle,
Oh, let peace be found here tonight.

And planets on their ephemeral course,
Rejoicing, synchronize their pull,
In hymns, in carols proclaim Him Lord,
With the poetic lyre of Yule.

SANS PAREIL
Written 3-15-2001

His paramour, the lyre, nestled to his arms.
Beloved she was, for all of her charms.
In taut, yet sanguine acquiescence,
For her maestro she performs unequaled resonance.

Whilst he eliciting the primitive, haunting chords,
A tactile harmony between them thus born,
Winnowing with ease, lyrical notes from unstudied repertoire,
Unconcerned as crowd’s applause burns rafters like fire.

Yet in synergistic rhythm, continues on the crowd to please.
Amazing music escapes like magic elixir flowing fluidly,
Lyre to man, both as muse and siren, premier solo relays,
A Benedicite couplet in perfect cadence, Sans Pareil! {Written 3-15-2001}
Mistress Witt

SOLO: {YON LYRE}

She trills as the nightingale,
Music spills in a fluid veil,
Lyre yields enchanted spell,
Throaty song emerges; secondo!

Rhythm builds ergo in empirical,
Intoned, wielded wind so lyrical,
She in skilled, melodic miracle,
Enters ethers, worships; pneumato.

He quills song’s escape to empyreal,
In apt spiel, celestial cape she steals,
Heavenly zeal, flames are revealed.
To cauldron’s brim, furnaced grotto.

Thus until he melts with his lyre,
Her trills escape like volcanic fire,
He feels, aye, hears heaven’s choir,
Crescendo on her surface glissando!

She steals in silence, all is quiet again,
Music spilled like milk upon the wind,
The wheel spun and day is done for him,
Song’s finale and crepe curtains indigo.

Just like real life, where all is equivoque,
Ink will burn eyes, you, as smoke and prove,
Words ill can pierce for staved needles do,
Lyre soliloquizing sings in excursive; Solo.

Mistress Witt

FAIT ACCOMPLI

The jongleur had riveted one and all,
As stories he told and sonnets he played.
Crowds mesmerized by his lyre’s call,
Listening enchanted and hypnotically swayed.

Pied piper, some said, as children danced;
In the villages, this minstrel was known.
For he traveled along and the road he romanced,
Spreading his magic as iridescent bubbles blown.

From town to town, whenever he came,
Music and dancing for a night or so.
Just like carnivals and Christmas days,
He jubilantly, set their hearts aglow.

With rhymes, stories, music and song,
The art in which he was keenly astute,
Entertaining freely the willing throngs;
For cheerfully none he could refuse.

As he danced away they clapped,
Saying... “Please, one more for posterity!”
He sits down laughing merrily, lyre on lap,
And says, “Why sir, that’s fait accompli.”

Mistress Witt
1-27-2001

THE MAESTRO MISTRETTA

To the man sans a great dictionnaire,
There is no need to suffer in despair,
We all could thus learn,
And new words discern,
Modeling the Mulberry man debonair!

Mistress Witt

RIGHTEOUS RHETORIC

The un-propitious amongst us preach what they
Can’t seem to accomplish, practice, or obey
Condescending airs of spiritual superiority to “heretics”
Spewing the molten lava known as righteous rhetoric!

They martyrize others, but also themselves render
Vulnerable to the words that they as the sender
Transmit as if weapons, but should they look in the book
They’d find they were listed amongst the crooks!

For humanities foibles are found in us all
If you’re not a reverend or saint, then don’t have the gall
To preach down a nose that like Pinocchio’s grows
For the good book even says....lay down those stones

Whomever can look God in the face & not blink
But unless you are him.....do you truly think ?!
Condemning others to hell & judgement will fly
For yes, someone is watching with omniscient eyes

Unless miracles you can perform, remaining sin free too
Cast out your own demons before others you deign to reprove
For in love & in life......we all have a long way to go
Righteous rhetoric will never pave that road

Nor will dogma, hostility, or carving knives
They all lead to nowhere with the toll exacted in lives
So, read the word, to & for your own betterment
But enough is enough....when it’s mere righteous rhetoric!

Mistress Witt

DAYS OF LYRE

The day began with music,
Songs softly hummed.
Gentle strains, an elixir fluid;
Notes floating off the tongue.

But the symphony grew in spirit,
Afternoon’s instrumentalist invoke,
A movement of wind and lyrics,
Harmony under the marquee’s cloak.

A serenata ensues in deft composition,
Improvised maybe, but just the same,
The halls are impressed with musicians,
Who dare regale the silence’s bane.

In balm of sweet cadence, life is merry,
Eventually, night’s sheltering acoustics,
In gentle strains and in dulcet queries,
Ends the day that began with music.

Mistress Witt

THE BUZZ AND THE BEES

Her body is a delicate flower on a convex stem,
As waist disappears & it’s all due to him!
For ‘twas pollination by & by, he to she,
That’s just what happens when stung by a bee!

Changes occur & she blooms like a rubious rose,
Soft petals inchoate, yes, she positively glows.
With all the grace of a duck, yet the luminescence of a swan,
She waddles through nine long months as bee flies along.

There comes a day when the dew from the heavens,
Wistfully coaxes her centrifugal flowering inception,
To make a triumphant and exquisite debut.
A new flower will unfurl in a miniature preview.

And the bee will buzz as though he did it all!
Proudly he’ll boast, new dads have that gall!
She’ll look at him with a knowing, new light in her eyes.
He may have stung her, but she delivered his prize!

To Riss (the flower) & John (the proud bee to be)
Mistress Witt

ON DIT
{THEY SAY}

Once field of flowers
Met the weeds,
A union good and evil.

As evil grew in power,
The blooms grew
Sparsely and so feeble.

So it is with man himself,
When overtook
By seeds of nature dark,

Soon only weeds can dwell,
In the fields
Of mankind’s fertile heart.

Mistress Witt

MOVIE REVIEWS :

“No Country for Old Men”
3 stars
http://www.theledger.com/article/20071129/TIMEOUT/711290462&template=timeoutart

“No Country for Old Men” an adaptation of the Cormac McCarthy novel is a cold-blooded, diabolical, killer of a film. Llewelyn Moss, (Josh Brolin) discovers life can turn on the flip of a coin while out hunting in the arid Texas desert. He happens upon a drug deal gone foul, and as a questionable turn would have it, two million dollars in blood money. The ensuing sequence of events finds Moss hunted in return by the savage and soul-less psychopath Anton Chigurh, (Jaivier Bardem) and by the world-weary, yet soulful Sheriff Bell, (Tommy Lee Jones.)

This movie sets a crimson stage, where every scene is powerful in a grim determination to portray the cruelest apertures of fate with chilling, ambivalent destruction on a blood-stained background. The desert has never seemed so cold or devoid of life affirming hope. If by the end of this relentless, pointless rampage and its scarlet requiem, the viewer is not left with the bitter taste of dust and death in their mouth, “No Country for Old Men” will have at very least left movie-goers drained and disturbed in its dearth.

Rachel

“Love in the Time of Cholera”
3 ½ stars
http://www.theledger.com/article/20071122/TIMEOUT/711220472&template=timeoutart

“It had to teach her to think of love as a state of grace: not the means to anything but the alpha and omega, an end to itself.” Herein, encapsulated the prosaic aim of a film based on the best-selling novel by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. The story is a simple, but timeless tale of one man, Florentino Ariza (Javier Bardem) and his quest to inspire the requited affections of his beloved Fermina Urbino, (Giovanna Mezzagiorno) who marries according to her father’s wishes and chooses instead the prestigious Dr. Juvenal Urbino, (Benjamin Bratt.) A lush Columbian backdrop sets the tone for a sensual and provocative voyage into the choleric jungles of love, during a period where disease and war ravaged the human condition, but no less than so than the perils of the heart. But for the hauntingly familiar characters we find here, love alone is the sickness and cure.

There’s a certain quality to this movie, and to the novel as well, which scoffs at the passage of time, a certain spell of human recognition in its parts that viewers now and centuries from now would recognize. The characters are altogether less important than the emotions conveyed, the understood feelings, love in all its bewildering inflections and enchantments. There’s due reverence avowed to nostalgic, youthful yearning; however, here love beguiles with its enduring qualities, a grander obsession laying bare the elixir of life itself. I won’t sing the praises of the actors who imbue life into “Love in the Time of Cholera,” but for those sensitive to its familiar rhapsody of soul-searing heartaches, sensual desire, and deeply abiding love, this poetic feast may just well be what the doctor would prescribe.

Rachel

“Lions for Lambs”
3 stars
http://www.theledger.com/article/20071115/TIMEOUT/711150472&template=timeoutart

Three stars seems apropos given three movie magic makers, (Meryl Streep, Robert Redford, And Tom Cruise) light up the central cast, all of whom are obviously acting here from deep conviction. Redford delivers his message via Professor Malley’s sage lectures, Streep renders savvy journalist Janine Roth, and the political pump is erstwhile primed by one charismatic Senator Irving, (Cruise.) But the lifeblood of this tale about the seemingly endless war, its martial offspring, and a lengthy analysis thereof, is not immediately obvious. However, between the clever dialogue and the stars before our eyes, we also see conjured the emotional story of two notably earnest soldiers, Ernest Rodriguez (Michael Pena) and Arian Finch, (Derek Luke.) In every respect, the real meat of the movie’s message here comes down to these two, and of course, the countless men and women portraying their genuine uniformed counterparts.

Going in I suspected I was in for a different movie experience, by the end, I was convinced and when final credits rolled, an unknown lady seated beside me succinctly summed it up. To paraphrase, she noted in despair that too many would be too superficial to get it. And “Lions for Lambs” actually does refer to the infamous Nero fiddling as Rome burned by way of allegory. In this anti-war, motion picture style tower of babble it’s understood the average American suffers an appalling lack of direction, or is arrogantly apathetic with regards to the fate of our nation, and alas, towards those serving in the very real trenches. And as the title’s inherent image would suggest, the results of that disconnect have moreover manifested in a modern-day travesty.

Rachel

http://www.theledger.com/article/20071108/TIMEOUT/711080413&template=timeoutart

3 1/2 stars
"American Gangster"

Dare to enter the dangerously intoxicating world of an "American Gangster" Frank Lucas, (Denzel Washington). He's the anti-hero to one heroically honest cop, Richie Roberts, (Russell Crowe). As famed director Ridley Scott succinctly put it, the two characters "are diametrically opposite in their paradoxical positions." This movie is based on a true story about a different sort of Mafia man, one who cornered the thriving heroin market, but who contrarily was a very private, dedicated family man. By contrast, Roberts, while integrity-driven and extremely honest, is portrayed here as an utter failure as husband and father. Yet both maintain an unflinching personal stance, even if at opposing ends of the thematic shooting gallery, and both are equally devoted to their personal missive, even when aiming in dualistic directions.

It's the American dream turned unceremoniously inside out; where the commerce is purely a cut above the average dope, the euphoria is hypnotic and the high is as inexpensive as it is deadly.
And from as far away as the jungles of Bangkok and back to the streets of Harlem, the visuals in this film are visceral, and the characters no less so. Against a backdrop of war and crime, the film's unsavory elements are poised in high relief, and before it's over, the moral of the story is unavoidable. Yes, the drugs and deals done here do deliver the divine dollar while destroying any divine wow. "American Gangster" may or may not execute a mob hit with a target audience, but it scores a bull's-eye for lucid storytelling with an addictive hook. And "American Gangsters" will leave more than a flesh wound before it exits theaters.
Rachel

http://www.theledger.com/article/20071101/TIMEOUT/711010503&template=timeoutart

3 ½ stars
“Dan in Real Life”

Expect surprises, but prepare to fall in love with the nostalgic romance of this film’s tender take on family and true amour. Steve Carell plays Dan, a widower who’s resigned himself to a semi-fulfilling life as an advice columnist and father to three daughters; two who are challenging teenagers and one who’s just a sweet fourth-grader. The surprises begin after they arrive for their annual reunion at his parent’s family home on Rhode Island. As serendipity would have it, Dan soon falls deeply in love. Marie, (an angelic Juliette Binoche) wonders in just in time to heal his grieving heart, but still not in time to explain that she’s girlfriend to his brother Mitch, (an adorable Dane Cook.) It’s a comedy of errors, but one that plays out in an understated, heartfelt manner, yet manages to underscore the importance of the finer things in life, such as spending real time with one’s family, exercising forgiveness, indeed, love.

Granted, this movie probably doesn’t accurately portray many of today’s modern families, which are often overly anxious, if not seriously dysfunctional by comparison. No, this film’s version of family hearkens back to a bygone era. Here love is compared to more than just a heated up kind of feeling; what one gets a taste of with this dreamy family is better than the homemade pancakes Marie serves up. Although still light, fluffy and scrumptiously satisfying, with a meaningful touch of syrup, here the batter’s just right and rarely overdone. Craving the secret, movie magic recipe? Well go then, just don’t be surprised if you too fall in love with “Dan in Real Life.”

Rachel

[2007]
“Good Luck Chuck”
3 stars

There’s some serious hocus-pocus afoot after a silly game of spin-the-bottle turns sinister. Years later, enter Charlie (Dane Cook) a happy, go lucky dentist who’s still a serial bachelor. But he does get lucky, a lot! Although, all his exes end up marrying the next guy. Which might have worked out fine, but Charlie meets Cam, (Jessica Alba) and she falls head over heels, and it’s love, no less. Oh, and did I mention she’s a serial klutz?

Ooooh, I would’ve loved to rip Alba apart on this movie. After all, my husband thinks she’s hot. And so, I hear, does a large percentage of the male population. Hence my pet nickname for her, (you heard it here) Alba-tross. And actually, many other reviewers canned “Good Luck Chuck” six ways to Sabbath. However, Alba is surprisingly fetching in this film, playing an avid animal lover, who’s goofy, even sweet. Also, this movie more than satisfied my personally wicked sense of humor while being genuinely entertaining. “Good Luck Chuck” doesn’t aspire to win any Oscars; it’s just good, dirty fun.

Yes, it can only help if you enjoy naughty jokes and slapstick comedy, even gratuitous bedroom antics, but if you do, you’re in for a bona-fide treat. Truly, this film has likeability plus some, with two very sexy, funny stars. When I viewed this film, spontaneous laughter erupted from nearly the entire audience throughout. Besides, if you love penguins, not to mention one Alba-tross, it’s a go-see. Naturally, my friend Betsy also loved it. Now, my husband John will just have to wait for the video; oooh, hex! But don’t just go, laugh out loud.

Rachel

[2007]
“Dragon Wars”
1 1/2 stars

“Dragon Wars” begins interestingly enough, with reporter Ethan Kendrick (Jason Behr) covering a mysterious earthquake. Segue way via flashbacks to antique store owner Jack (Robert Foster) explaining to the youthful Ethan (Cody Arens) that he has a bizarre future destiny; one hinged on the reincarnation of a mysterious Yuh Yi Joo. Then add some Baraki and Imoogi and voila! Confused yet? Well, keep watching. The choppy explanations and scenes then segue way about as stiltedly as secondhand interpretations of an old Kung Fu movie. Before it’s over, just give up on following dialogue, or even expecting any coherence; best sit back and enjoy watching the extensive creature carnage. Frankly, I had to wonder if the vision of doom leading lady Sarah (Amanda Brooks) sensed throughout was due to her delicatessen role as dragon-bait, or her dubious decision to do this movie.

To enjoy this film, don’t merely suspend disbelief, forget reality entirely. I daresay the majority of moviegoers entering “Dragon Wars” will walk out less than impressed; my friend Ryan sure wasn’t. Indeed, it might make for entertaining late night science fiction fodder; however, select few will be happy paying ticket prices to see it. But, if you crave scenes exploding with enormous serpents and dragons battling for supremacy, here’s one’s for you.

A caveat here, “Dragon Wars” may pique your interest if you know much of the intriguing Asian culture steeped in dragon mythology. Even though the convoluted plot is difficult, nigh exhausting to follow at times, the ancient dragon-tales are entwined throughout; no pun, no pun. And what I did find impressively realistic, for a movie that cast most, if not all realism aside, was the superb renderings of the celestial dragons. But alas, even the amazing, realistic creature conceptualizations and extreme action sequences couldn’t save “Dragon Wars.”

Rachel

[2007]
“3:10 to Yuma”
3 ½ stars

Meet Dan Evans, (Christian Bale) a good man shackled to bad luck. Handicapped by life’s unfairness, Evans still struggles to do the right things and maintain his family’s flailing faith in him. Desperate to save his farm, Evans agrees to help escort notorious outlaw Ben Wade, (Russell Crowe) to a deserved date with destiny and a noose. But odds are not in Evan’s favor. Wade’s murderous desperadoes remain determined to rescue their leader and derail the fated rendezvous.

Meanwhile, the rendezvous draws ever closer, like hands on a clock nearing the appointed hour. Clearly, Evan’s course will be fraught with trials, even temptation? And to make things tougher for Evans, the fragile lines between right and wrong, those demarcating good men from bad, become less distinct every passing mile down the dusty trail to Yuma. Though just as surely, every Bible verse quoted, leads viewers closer to what could only be a righteous conclusion.

“3:10 to Yuma” sports a finely crafted cast but aside from scenes that roar with gunplay, what will keep you glued to your seat will be the interplay between dichotomous outlaw Wade and the stoic Evans. Don’t miss this train; a remake from 1957, it’s not only worth catching, it’s a hell of a ride. Here, set against a blistering backdrop of corruption and courage, perfectly engineered by its very contrasts, is another perfect vehicle for Crowe. He renders Wade, a murderous outlaw empathetic and engaging in inimitable style, as events unfold seamlessly, converging to set up a Western that could leave you praying for more of this ilk. Between prostitutes, prairie women, outlaws, and posses, the tug of man’s inner wars are palpably conscious throughout. Truths encountered could linger compellingly, long after images of sagebrush and tumbleweed have faded, long after “3:10 to Yuma” has left station.

Rachel

[2007]
*** 3 stars
“Balls of Fury”http://www.theledger.com/article/20070906/TIMEOUT/709060469/1313/TIMEOUT04&template=timeoutart


Cast:
Randy Daytona: Dan Fogler, Master Wong: James Hong, Agent Rodriguez: George Lopez, Maggie: Maggie Q, Master Feng: Christopher Walken

Roger Ebert implies “Balls of Fury” is a nothing better to do kind of film experience, but I, for one, had a ball. My expectations were met, given the film’s name, and given its previews, which I thought actually did “represent” accurately. Yes, this film had all the balls, albeit tiny ones, from start to finish mocking just about everything, even itself. Nothing was sacred, from the Asian film genre to the stereotyping of athletics; game on.
Randy Daytona is recruited, nay, rescued by FBI agent Rodriguez from an embarrassing
life consisting mainly of tired Vegas sideshow performances. Only, it might be a “mission impossible” for reasons other than a certain Maggie Q’s involvement. In contrast to Daytona’s early years as ping pong’s boy wonder, Daytona has developed a teensy, self-esteem issue. He just doesn’t have the… the… the chutzpah he once had. (Well, how many corny ball jokes do you think I’m allowed?) Thankfully, Master Wong and Wong’s niece Maggie also arrive on cue, no less, and team up to prepare Daytona for the tournament of his life. A tournament presided over by the nefarious Master Feng, although Feng has other plans afoot. After all, Feng is, did I mention, nefarious. But that’s okay because I plan to steal his wardrobe.
Whose performance did I enjoy more, Hong’s or Walken’s? Well, both actors are masters of satire on screen, and Fogler’s funny too. But the three things I most enjoyed: First, that a woman was great at everything. (Q, you represent, girlfriend.) Secondly, Def Leppard rocked back in the day, and every champ in training deserves memorable theme music. Finally, I couldn’t help but love the title, “Balls of Fury.” But hey, if nutty humor offends, watch it twice.

Rachel

[2003]
Three stars
“Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life”

If you enjoyed “Lara Croft: Tomb Raider”, you’ll love this summer’s fast-paced sequel, as Angelina Jolie reprises her role with the stoic, but all too human, heroine Lara Croft. Joining her on the frenetic race across the globe to find the infamous cradle of life is her ex-flame, turned mercenary, Terry Sheridan, who’s handily played by Gerard Butler. Jolie easily commandeers Sheridan’s release from prison and thus his help in her gargantuan quest to recover the orbicular map; find the cradle of life and foil the Chinese crime syndicate, along with a biological weapons dealer Jonathon Reiss (Ciaran Hinds).

Jolie and Butler circumnavigate the globe with energetic style, slick stunts and amazingly exotic locales thrown in for good measure, but not a minute’s wasted this time. Although comparisons to another film “Raiders of the Lost Ark” have been made, I would say that in this spy-worthy sequel, it’s more a marriage of “Jane” Bond to Indiana “Jolie” and for entertainment junkies everywhere, that just may equal metaphorical movie heaven.

This is not a deep or intellectual film, but rather, a roller-coaster ride around the world with a beautiful girl and her sexy male counterpart. The breathtaking vistas and non-stop, heart- pounding action only heighten the experience. When have you ever paid so little for such an exciting and scenic vacation from reality? I didn’t expect a lot of substance or even a tremendous story-line, so I wasn’t disappointed there, but Jolie worked hard at making a physically demanding role look easy and after being slightly disappointed with the original “Tomb Raider” this was refreshing. Lara Croft certainly kicked it up a notch this go-round and fans everywhere will no doubt appreciate the next level.

Rachel
[2003]
Three Stars

“GIGLI”

I had mixed expectations going into this film; I expected Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez, Ben and Jen if you will, to be charismatically charming or dismally disappointing on-screen as a couple. In my view, their respective characters Gigli” (Affleck) and Ricki (Lopez) overcome the conventional lack of chemistry often exhibited when Hollywood real-life couples make said movies together. Extra surprising though, was the overall sweetness of this film, moreover, without a saccharine aftertaste.

From the start we understand that these two characters are essentially small-time thugs; the colorful language, although disconcerting at times, serves to reinforce the images portrayed. Be forewarned, “Gigli” definitely has adult content, yet, however abrasive the language may seem at times, especially as their mentally-challenged kidnapping victim Brian (Justin Bartha) enters the picture, it does serve to define who and what these characters are about. As we know, appearances can often be deceptive, yet, this perceptive movie refuses to take the easy route or even the socially acceptable one for viewers, instead allowing “Gigli,” Ricki and their hostage Brian, to stretch and grow, albeit exponentially, as the plot develops.

Al Pacino and Chistopher Walken play small parts here, along with Lenny Venito as Gigli’s boss, but the stars of this screen shine even brighter. After debating whether to see this particular movie, I was glad I did. The humor was infectious, the main characters ultimately lovable, the occasioned witty banter delightful and the story itself quirky, but interesting. I’d recommend “Gigli” to those open-minded enough to enjoy it. Perhaps though, “a task of this magnitude,” as Ricki might say, will elude some whilst enlightening others. “Gigli” has more than one lesson imbedded within and if you listen, between the laugh cracks and linguistic loops, you may learn something valuable, about yourself.

Rachel

[2003]Three Stars

“S.W.A.T.”

Beneath my philosophically bent, gentle exterior beats the heart of an elite police person, no, really! Maybe you’ll find your inner law-enforcer after seeing this movie too, but whatever the overall effect on your psyche, it will get your adrenalin pumping. I would have gone to see this movie for Samuel L. Jackson alone, but Colin Farrell’s portrayal of Jackson’s self-confident and brash but principled recruit Jim Street, didn’t hurt my decision. “S.W.A.T.” was a well cast, effectively acted film overall, although the team’s personal lives were not overly fleshed out here but this mainly due to the tempo of their job, not lack of plot.

Surprisingly enough for an action-thriller style movie, there are many humorous moments throughout “S.W.A.T.” and this is where Jackson as Lt. Dan “Hondo” shines. He plays the tough, but likeable cop with style and a sharp wit, while his obvious experience brings unquestionable benefits to the authenticity of his character’s role. Farrell and the other recruits prove just as effective and winning in their various positions on the elite team’s missions. Particularly so, Michelle Rodriguez playing Chris Sanchez, a policewoman destined for this team, who despite traditional gender considerations shows herself quite capable of the calling. One of my favorite scenes though, was when Jackson rejected a possible recruit for the team, swat!

I liked this movie and couldn’t help rooting for the ethical under-dogs to come out ahead. Yet, it did bring up some interesting questions, such as, why do police officers get paid so little for risking their lives daily? There’s no justifiable answer, yet “S.W.A.T.” is well worth the cost of admission. However, I give two thumbs up to the real heroes out there. Thanks guys ...and gals.

Rachel

[2003]
Three ½ Stars

“OPEN RANGE”

“Open Range” will tug at your heartstrings but for all of its charming warmth, the dust never quite settles and it leaves you wanting more. Not more in the sense of action, rather, it leaves you with a sense of something missing far too often in our day and time; old-fashioned values and loyalty. Kevin Costner is a cowboy named Charley who’s working for Boss, played by Robert Duvall. These two have an understanding that goes beyond an employer and employee relationship, they’re good friends. When the trouble begins, as you know it will, it is this bond that enables them to do what’s necessary and stand to fight for what they believe in.

At one point Costner tells a townsman, “There are things that will gnaw at a man worse than death” and you can’t help feeling he knows what he’s talking about. When Annette Bening appears as Sue, the doctor’s assistant, it doesn’t matter that she and Charley are worlds apart in style, they need each other. Bening’s character is integral in many ways, she, along with Boss, serves to highlight the differences between right and wrong for Charley. Sue also provides necessary aid to Boss and his men and as happens, she’s needed a lot. The bad guys are determined to keep Boss and his cowboys out of what they consider their territory; mercifully, there are people in town who do help when things get ugly. I thoroughly enjoyed Michael Jeter’s endearing role here, he adds a genuinely whimsical touch. That’s one reason “Open Range” is the grade A movie it is, each actor, actress fits perfectly in their respective roles. This movie doesn’t give instant gratification, like many modern movies do, via special effects or a caffeine rush, yet, “Open Range” is soul satisfying.

Rachel

[2005]*** (3 stars)

‘Stealth’

There was nothing stealthy about this movie; it was predictable fare from the start. Yet, from the initial high-flying sequence to the final heart-pumping scene, “Stealth” had my enthusiastic interest and movie pal Gwen’s rapt attention. Josh Lucas, Jessica Biel, and Jamie Foxx play the three select Navy pilots chosen for special missions involving, of all things, undercover aerial maneuvering. Sam Shepard plays George Cummings, the trio’s politically adroit, navy captain. What I enjoyed, besides the constant adrenalin rush and amazing visual effects, was the emotional attachment these characters inspired despite the non-stop pace. I cared what happened to Ben Gannon, (Lucas) and Kara Wade, (Biel). Biel was quite believable playing the not-so helpless female lead and Foxx was true to his usual comedic, albeit likable form as pilot Henry Purcell. Eventually, however; the self-contented threesome is joined by a fourth wheel, or should I say set of wings, named Edi for short. Edi being a computerized plane designed to think for itself. If Edi ever had a mission in this film, it was to try and steal the show, but that’s where the difficulties start and the illogical fun begins. Still, however much a realist I am normally, I like my movies to be entertaining, first and foremost. That said, this film is a dizzy blast. Although one scene in this movie does somewhat awkwardly remind viewers of the September 11th tragedy, perhaps it’s because we need to remember. As fun as “Stealth” turned out to be, there were certain morals to this movie after all, and by the climactic finish, nearly the entire audience was applauding.

Rachel

[2005]** 2 Stars

‘The Dukes of Hazzard’

Inevitably, when a remake of a popular show is done, the comparisons and critiques will lean towards very good or very bad. Naturally, this film has already piqued much ire. However, there are a few things right about this movie; it doesn’t feign any intelligence above the original, nor does it try to be an exact replica. Yet, Bets and I enjoyed the familiar theme with characters that brought back fond memories; despite their not-always analogous looks. Seann William Scott does well playing a devil-may-care version of Bo Duke. It took longer for me to warm up to Johnny Knoxville playing Luke, but soon the casting fit because the pairing was hilarious. Actually, the majority of casting made comedic sense. Burt Reynolds plays Boss Hogg, Jessica Simpson plays Daisy Duke, and Willie Nelson plays Uncle Jesse. Simpson was superb as Daisy. Her dumb-blonde act pokes perfect fun at anyone who would believe it, including the entire police-force of Hazzard County. Simpson has already proved she’s one smart cookie, and while this movie may not highlight the acting skills of anyone, it likely won’t hurt Simpson either. The major disappointment I had, however; was the backwards attitude of certain characters towards the cops, and well, everyone, including one poor armadillo. I would have been inexorably offended, but then I remembered one thing; it’s a movie. A movie based on moonshine running cousins and one hot car comically eluding authorities. As big a fan as I used to be of the original series, this film is not that far removed after all. Besides, “The General Lee” was fabulous in every single chase scene; even Bo (Scott) thought so.

Rachel

[2005]

*** 3 stars

‘Four Brothers’

Nitty-Gritty, edgy, street-smart; alternately saturnine and sentimental with enough nostalgia marinating the mixture to bring tears to your eyes; that my movie compatriots, composes the sum of “Four Brothers”. My husband John and I, along with our good friend Larissa all concurred that though this movie started slow, the storyline required the measured set-up. Besides, whenever you have a character dying so early in the movie, as did Fionnula Flanagan’s character Evelyn Mercer, well, let the flashbacks begin. Although the mere thought of the saintly, white-haired mother being coldly murdered was horrifying enough to set the scene, the producers didn’t really need to make viewers weep for revenge, did they? However, that’s exactly what the brothers set out for, revenge. Mark Wahlberg plays Bobby Mercer, Tyrese Gibson plays Angel, Andre Benjamin plays Jeremiah Mercer, and Garrett Hedlund plays the vulnerable brother Jack. Each actor does a fair job jazzing up the brotherly quartet here, and interesting to note the familiar face of Benjamin comes from hip-hop’s Outkast. Yet, no matter how well the motives are established, or how understandable the methods used for this vengeful tale, it’s still quite necessary to check reality at the door for this film. Suspension of disbelief is a prerequisite, but in the end most will feel it was worth it. To see satisfying justice done is almost an overwhelming draw for anyone ever victimized by crime or the legal system. While “Four Brothers” may not establish or confirm the moral verity of the Mercer matriarch’s charitable way of life, it will indeed satisfy the psychological need for anyone hoping karma arrives just a little bit early.

Rachel

[2005]*** 3 Stars

‘Valiant”

No surprise to those who know me well, but I’m somewhat of an anomaly in my appreciation for the subtler humor of the English variety. Then again I grew up enjoying classic British comedies. “Valiant” proved the ideal fare to satisfy my un-stereotypical viewing appetite. Interestingly, my two youngest children, Tabby and Buddy, also enjoyed this plucky movie. “Valiant” may not have the ideal hero, or flock of heroes, but then did “The Dirty Dozen” either? No, this isn’t “Chicken Run”, nor does this film typify the average animated movie you see these days, but it may just have more to offer because of that fine distinction. This film educates young and old alike on one of the lesser known realities of World War 11. Few people realize that homing pigeons served a valuable service during that historic epoch of past. I must admit an even bigger draw for me was found feathering the cast of this atypical children’s adventure. Ewan McGregor gave voice to the main character appropriately dubbed Valiant, but we also find Ben Kingsley, Tim Curry, and John Cleese chime in, adding British charm and distinctive vocals to the experience. Yet, vocals aren’t the only distinction here; I quite enjoyed the realistically drawn English scenery and various visuals. I found little not to like, although I’m not particularly partial to regurgitation, or flies for that matter. Oh, well, I do believe I’ve seen those film flies somewhere else just recently. Not to worry, it’ll come to me, perhaps next time I’m reorganizing the family’s movies to further accommodate a welcomed addition of “Valiant.”
P.S., Happy Birthday to Buddy from the Royal Homing Pigeon Service and Mother.

Rachel

[2006]

“SUPERMAN RETURNS” ***


Synopsis:
The man of steel soars back to earth five years later, in his inimitable fashion, returning almost exactly to the spot where it all began, where his adoptive Mother has kept vigil. Viewers expect the parallel return of reporter Clark Kent; Superman’s diversionary alter-ego. Early on, not much seems to have changed during Superman’s mysterious absence. Metropolis and The Daily Planet appear to be thriving; however, to Superman’s dismay, his former flame has moved on with her life. Superman’s love, a fellow reporter named Lois Lane, is now engaged to Richard White, (James Marsden) a handsome pilot. Meanwhile, Superman inevitably reunites with his arch-nemesis Lex Luther, as Luther’s diabolical plan to dominate American soil unfolds in epic, but familiar fashion. As per all good Superman films, it’s the age-old battle of good versus evil again.

Critique:
My friend Cheryl and I enjoy super-hero movies, but honestly, how many sequels can loyal fans survive? But hello, we are talking Superman here. Brandon Routh, shares the same brand of near synthetic perfection as did the earlier Superman’s Christopher Reeve during his shining day. From the start, I felt as though I had popped in an old tape, yet, no matter how closely this sequel imitates the cult-film panache of the former, there are still striking differences. Kate Bosworth, by comparison, does not as ably comprise Superman’s love-interest, the fiery Lois Lane, but in Kevin Spacey’s portrayal of Lex Luther, viewers are more than compensated. I was similarly delighted by Luther’s companion, Kitty, (Parker Posey) who gives a wonderful comedic counterpoint to all the dramatic action. Curiously, Superman has long illustrated a simple truth, in that often what empowers an entity, usually also contains somewhere the Kryptonite that can cripple said being. Illustrated too, is that love often proves the ultimate antidote. Yet, what struck me with this particular sequel was the definitive analogy of Superman to a familiar religious icon. But perhaps, therein dwells the cult-like power of this super-hero. And in that sense, if no other, this film restores a super-hero believer’s brand of faith when “Superman Returns.”
Rachel

[2006]
3 ½ Stars

“Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest”

Synopsis:
Jack is back! Captain Jack Sparrow that is, and he rejoins his maudlin mateys with reluctant, albeit eccentric flair, not to mention his uniquely robust thirst for the theatrical. This tale sets sail when his former partners in crime, Will Turner and the noblesse Elizebeth Swann are coerced into a quest not dissimilar from Jason’s search for the Golden Fleece. However, the mythological Scylla here becomes the Kraken. Alas, the Captain and his cut-throat crew all want disparate things. Jack only desires to keep his ship, The Black Pearl, along with his black soul. Elizabeth and Will just want to get married and maintain their freedom. Not expecting much, are they? There are numerous barrier reefs in between, a ghostly Davy Jones and The Flying Dutchman, to name just a few, but somehow these ribald rebels must locate a dead man’s treasure chest if any would survive this voyage of the heart and soulful sea.

Critique:
The magnetic and masterful Johnny Depp reprises his role as Captain Jack Sparrow here, and boy, are we ever grateful. This character certainly suits him. He’s got swagger, he’s got style; he is the ultimate bad-boy pirate. Orlando Bloom plays Sparrow’s righteously handsome sidekick, Turner and fiancé to the feisty Miss Swann, (Keira Knightly). Most of us “Pirate” fans have met these characters before, and think we know what to expect, and fortunately, for the most part, we do. There are a few enjoyable surprises with this film, however. Bill Nighy, as the infamous Davy Jones, does his usual feat of remarkable pirating here and very nearly steals the show, what with his barnacle-encrusted friends along for the dizzying adventure. Although, my daughter Morgan mentioned finding Jones’ cephalopoda tentacles a bit exaggerated, the special effects were still nothing short of amazing. I loved the feel of this movie, what with the spooky, other-worldly atmosphere that permeated it, down to the creepy-crawly details on board ship. And in the final analogy, much like the pirates we’ve come to know and love, the ultimate find is never really about unearthing some dubious treasure, but rather the discovery of one’s own reliable moral compass.

Rachel

(2006)
2 ½ Stars
“You, Me and Dupree”

And they all live happily ever after? Odds look uneven for this fairytale, but it starts off beautifully enough when Carl (Matt Dillon) and Molly (Kate Hudson) float down the aisle towards hoped for blissful matrimony. The newly-wed Peterson’s have barely begun to divvy up thank-you notes for their many wedding gifts before reality knocks at their perfect door. You guessed it, the twosome inevitably become hosts to their lovable, yet exasperating best man, Randolph Dupree (Owen Wilson). The shenanigans that follow are silly, even somewhat predictably clownish, but none the less made pleasurably tolerable by the “cheeky” side of Dupree. Somewhat less enticing, we also see the manipulative maneuvers of Molly’s uptight Father, Mr. Thompson (Michael Douglas). So, where does this fair tale begin and end? Well, Gwyn and I agreed, there certainly was that one “cheeky” scene.

This threesome never quite gets it right, but, they never quite get it wrong either. One can’t help wishing the Petersons’ success in their cutesy coupledom, but Dupree is slightly irresistible. Dupree is, after all, the edge of an epiphany riotously routing the chronic stiffness that threatens to settle in and choke the chutzpah, (read: fun) right out of Carl and Molly’s bourgeois fairytale. I wouldn’t call this a deep movie, but as with almost any film, we can find a moral within even the simplest story. Here one can recognize that balance is essential when the romantic fable meets reality and when the slacker all but collides with the starched of collar. And while it may seem slightly unrealistic to envision Dupree could have the diverse qualities he’s dubitably endowed with throughout this film, in many ways it merely highlights the dichotomous character traits many people embody. Yes, “You, Me and Dupree” is just a humorous distraction of a movie, but sometimes we all need a little Dupree.
Rachel

(2006)
3 ***
“Lady in the Water”

Lease an apartment at “The Cove” where Cleveland Heep, (Paul Giamatti) is the building superintendent for a host of eccentric, but essentially normal characters such as one movie critic, Harry Farber, (Bob Balaban) and one aspiring writer, Vick Ran, (M. Night Shyamalan) amongst the assorted mix. Be prepared to enter another dimension of “The Twilight Zone” because the pool at this complex is deeper than most and possibly contains the most exotic tenant of all, Story (Bryce Dallas Howard.) She’s the nebulous “Lady in the Water,” and could hold the key to humanity’s future, or so we’re told in the opening cave-like chalk drawings. Thus somewhat explaining the urgency Heep and his other tenants feel regarding helping Story escape what threatens her, and why they are desperate to find what heals her.

Now, from a fair-tale last review to a genuine fairy tale in the span of a week, whew! Yet, if viewers are looking for a thriller/horror film, I’d urge them to forget it, they will be disappointed. Unfortunately, this movie defies easy labeling and was likely misunderstood from the previews. However, if one can tolerate originality, albeit with few unexplained twists, then this is a movie for you. I love Shyamalan films, and I found this one had the same intriguing, fated feel to it as have his other movies. In the fantasy worlds he concocts, everything and everyone makes for supernatural sense. People really do matter and events unfold with the certainty that there is a distinct purpose for all. More importantly, as a writer and filmmaker, Shyamalan renders the underlying stories we all want, no, need to hear. Who out there doesn’t need to believe there’s a reason they personally exist, live, even die? Notably, many great truths lay buried in the common but uncommon fairytales of old. And I was inspired to see Shyamalan’s Story emerge out of the beautiful blue.
Rachel
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TRASH to TREASURE ~
Recycled poems


What You’ve Done-

Is fill my life with joy,
You’re the bluebird on my shoulder,
The song in my heart,
The seashell to my ear,
You’re to my heart held dear.

What you’ve done-

Is bless my life so much,
You’re my sunshine when there’s a cloud,
My rainbow when rain comes down,
The silver lining through random grays,
You are the answer when I pray.

What you’ve done-

Is been the Mother that I missed,
The Father that I lost,
Taken roles some kin could not,
Been a friend where it was needed,
You have my garden with love seeded.

What you’ve done-

Is dried the tears I cried,
Made life all it could be,
You’ve shared and cared and then,
Been my anchor in choppy seas,
I only hope that you each know;

What you’ve done-

Is fill my heart with love,
And I can never thank enough,
I am blessed beyond compare,
By all those who have been there,
For that IS what you have done.
-To my family and my friends held dear-

Rachel

How A’bout ??

We treat others how we feel we should be treated,
and show respect to the elderly,
show compassion to the burdened,
and show mercy to the weak.
And how about we practice humility versus judging others,
as we give to the needy,
and we demonstrate kindness,
and build others up –not tear them down.
How about we model for our children,
how we want to hopefully be treated as Grandparents one day
by showing honor to our own parents,
even when we get upset, because,
our kids will get upset with us too.
& if they don’t ever, we’re doing something wrong anyway!
How about we practice what we preach instead of hurling names like Beeea…
Or better yet, just don't sermonize,
We all have faults, to recognize,
Things on which we should spend time, improve,
How about I work on moi, you work on you!
How A’bout!

Rachel

fReSh

falling snow before first human footprint;
Rain, gently sweeping red dust away for glorious rainbows;
encounters devoid of envy, equivocation, or emptiness;
Simplicity, the scandalously humble surrender of self;
humanity sans hate or judgment; hope.
F r E s H !

Rachel

Sage Words (Quotes from around the globe)

New Quotes:
Emily Dickinson: "Until you have loved, you cannot become yourself."
You're a star—and so am I. I'm a genius—and so are you. Your success encourages my brilliance, and my charisma enhances your power. Your victory doesn't require my defeat, and vice versa. Those are the rules in the New World—quite unlike the rules in the Old World, where zero-sum games are the norm, and only one of us can win each time we play. In the New World, you don't have to play down or apologize for your prowess, because you love it when other people shine. You exult in your own excellence without regarding it as a sign of inherent superiority. As you ripen more and more of your latent aptitude, you inspire the rest of us to claim our own idiosyncratic magnificence.
Pronoia is the antidote for paranoia. It’s the understanding that the universe is fundamentally friendly. It’s a mode of training your senses and intellect so you’re able to perceive the fact that life always gives you exactly what you need, exactly when you need it. Are you interested in becoming a wildly disciplined, fiercely tender, scrupulously curious, aggressively sensitive, lyrically logical, lustfully compassionate Master of Rowdy Bliss? Act as if the universe is a prodigious miracle created for your amusement and illumination. Assume that secret helpers are working behind the scenes to assist you in turning into the gorgeous masterpiece you were born to be. "It's not whoring if you do it for free," read both of the matching t-shirts on a couple I saw at a San Francisco café. Being a curious sort, I went up and asked them what exact activity they were referring to. "He loves to give away his top-notch psycho-spiritual advice," the woman said, pointing to her companion, "and I love to give out compliments without expecting anything in return. Need any free advice or compliments?" Her earnest statements were in sharp contrast to the glib humor of the t-shirt quip. The next day, as I meditated on your astrological omens, I realized my experience with them was a foreshadowing of the oracle I should give you. Here it is: Be both playful and sincere as you deepen your commitment to generosity. Cultivate a blithe intensity as you bestow more of your gifts on the world.
Push hard to get better, become smarter, grow your devotion to the truth, fuel your commitment to beauty, refine your emotional intelligence, hone your dreams, negotiate with your shadow, cure your ignorance, shed your pettiness, heighten your drive to look for the best in people, and soften your heart—even as you always accept yourself for exactly who you are with all of your so-called imperfections.
In her role as DJ Debi Newberry in the film Grosse Pointe Blank, Minnie Driver defines the term shakabuku as a swift spiritual kick to the head that alters your reality forever.
These are the rewards promised you at the beginning of time: not just any old beauty, wisdom, goodness, love, freedom, and justice, but rather exhilarating beauty that incites you to be true to yourself; crazy wisdom that immunizes you against the temptation to believe your ideals are ultimate truths; outrageous goodness that inspires you to experiment with irrepressible empathy; generous freedom that keeps you alert for opportunities to share your wealth; insurrectionary love that endlessly transforms you; and a lust for justice that’s leavened with a knack for comedy, keeping you honest as you work humbly to liberate everyone in the world from ignorance and suffering.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The more accidental, the more true," wrote Boris Pasternak in his poem "February." Scholar Mikhail Epstein expanded this observation: "The more accidental the phenomenon, the more divine its nature, for the divine is what has not been envisioned, what cannot be deduced from general rules, nor irreducible to them."

If we pursue this line of thought to its logical conclusion, we may decide that the most useful sources of illumination are not always holy books, revered dogma, and great truths that everyone has heard. They might also be serendipitous anomalies that erupt into the daily routine and break the trance of ordinary awareness. "The tiny spark," Epstein writes, "is the precise measure of the holiness of the world."
~~~~~~
'Accipere quam facere praestat injuriam.' Don't worry, I am not intending to write predictions from now on, in some unintelligible language. Although, come to think of it, that's what Nostradamus did - with great success! It's just that, while I was checking up the Latin quote that I gave to you yesterday, I came across this gem. It means, 'It is better to receive an injustice than to do an injustice.' It's better still, of course, just to avoid injustice altogether.
~~~~~~~~~~~
To get what you want, give others what they need. - Michael Bryant

You know you're old when you've lost all your marvels. - Merry Browne

If your trials are hotter than those of your companions, remember, it takes the hottest flame to temper the strongest steel.

You paid with your life to become what you are today. If you are not happy with your purchase, you can change.

There is nothing wrong with making mistakes - just don't respond with encores. The Christian Athlete

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent. Eleanor Roosevelt

The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn. David Russell

If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one. Mother Teresa

The fear of death keeps us from living, not from dying. Paul C. Roud

"Excellence can be obtained if you care more than others think is wise, risk more than others think is safe, dream more than others think is practical, and expect more than others think is possible."
Unknown

"Wise sayings often fall on barren ground, but a kind word is never thrown away."
Sir Arthur Helps

"There are many ways to love someone. Sometimes we want love so much we're not too choosy about who we love. Other times we make love such a pure and noble thing that no poor human can ever meet our vision. But for the most part, love is a recognition, an opportunity to say, 'There is something about you I cherish.' It doesn't entail marriage, or even physical love. There's love of parents, love of city or nation, love of life, and love of people. All different, all love."
Laurie, "Magician: Master" (p.37)

"Inexperience can be overcome, ignorance be enlightened, but prejudice will destroy you."
Amberdrake, "The Black Gryphon"

"Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers."
Voltaire

"If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."

Sirius Black, "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" (p.52"A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words."
Unknown

When you're arguing with a fool, make sure he isn't doing the same thing.
Unknown

If there are any idiots in the room, will they please stand up" said the sarcastic teacher.
After a long silence, one freshman rose to his feet.
"Now then mister, why do you consider yourself an idiot?" enquired the teacher with a sneer.
"Well, actually I don't," said the student, "but I hate to see you standing up there all by yourself.

In time of war, the first casualty is truth.
Boake Carter

The direct use of force is such a poor solution to any problem, it is generally employed only by small children and large nations.
David Friedman

In peace, sons bury their fathers. In war, fathers bury their sons.
Herodotus

Just because nobody complains doesn't mean all parachutes are perfect.
Benny Hill

There's no honorable way to kill, no gentle way to destroy. There is nothing good in war. Except its ending.
'Abraham Lincoln' in "The Savage Curtain" stardate 5906.5

The belief in the possibility of a short decisive war appears to be one of the most ancient and dangerous of human illusions.
Robert Lynd

When the tyrant has disposed of foreign enemies by conquest or treaty, and there is nothing more to fear from them, then he is always stirring up some war or other, in order that the people may require a leader.
Plato

You can no more win a war than you can win an earthquake.
Jeannette Rankin

War: A strange game. The only winning move is not to play.

If you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually come to believe it.
Joseph Goebbels

Blessed are the young, for they shall inherit the National Debt.
Herbert Hoover

It is always the best policy to tell the truth, unless of course you are an exceptionally good liar.
Jerome K. Jerome

Drive carefully, 90% of people are accidents.

Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.

If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.

A [pseudo]random number generator is much like sex: when it's good it's wonderful, and when it's bad it's still pretty good.
G. Marsaglia

Due to circumstances beyond your control, you are master of your fate, and captain of your soul.

As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain, and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality.
Albert Einstein

Here's to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes, the ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or villify them...about the only thing you can't do is ignore them, because they change things, they push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do.
Apple Computer

Men acquire a particular quality by constantly acting a particular way... you become just by performing just actions, temperate by performing temperate actions, brave by performing brave actions.
Aristotle

You cannot have a proud and chivalrous spirit if your conduct is mean and paltry; for whatever a man's actions are, such must be his spirit.
Demosthenes

With reasonable men I will reason; with humane men I will plea; but to tyrants I will give no quarter, nor waste arguments where they will certainly be lost.
William Lloyd Garrison (1805 - 1879)

Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.
Henry Miller (1891 - 1980)

People often say that 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder,' and I say that the most liberating thing about beauty is realizing that you are the beholder. This empowers us to find beauty in places where others have not dared to look, including inside ourselves.
Salma Hayek

The more things change, the more they remain... insane.
Michael Fry and T. Lewis, Over the Hedge, 05-09-04

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.
Nelson Mandela (1918 - ), 'A Long Walk to Freedom'

This isn't good or bad. It's just the way of things. Nothing stays the same.
Real Live Preacher, RealLivePreacher.com Weblog, January 03, 2004

When the character of a man is not clear to you, look at his friends.
Japanese Proverb

I appreciate people who are civil, whether they mean it or not. I think: Be civil. Do not cherish your opinion over my feelings. There's a vanity to candor that isn't really worth it. Be kind.
Richard Greenberg, NY Times Magazine, 03-26-2006

Too many have dispensed with generosity in order to practice charity.
Albert Camus (1913 - 1960)

The charity that hastens to proclaim its good deeds, ceases to be charity, and is only pride and ostentation.
William Hutton

It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.
Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900), Lady Windermere's Fan, 1892, Act I

The smaller the mind the greater the conceit.
Aesop (620 BC - 560 BC)

We are so vain that we even care for the opinion of those we don't care for.
Marie Ebner von Eschenbach

For God hates utterly
The bray of bragging tongues.
Sophocles (496 BC - 406 BC), Antigone

The greatest of faults, I should say, is to be conscious of none.
Thomas Carlyle (1795 - 1881)

Do what you feel in your heart to be right - for you'll be criticized anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't.
Eleanor Roosevelt (1884 - 1962)

No degree of dullness can safeguard a work against the determination of critics to find it fascinating.
Harold Rosenberg

Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae.
Kurt Vonnegut (1922 - )

Criticism comes easier than craftsmanship.
Zeuxis (~400 BC), from Pliny the Elder, Natural History

Curiosity killed the cat, but for a while I was a suspect.
Steven Wright (1955 - )

What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.
Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900), Lady Windermere's Fan, 1892, Act III

If you limit your choices only to what seems possible or reasonable, you disconnect yourself from what you truly want, and all that is left is a compromise.
Robert Fritz
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How much easier it is to be critical than to be correct.
Benjamin Disraeli (1804 - 1881), speech, January 24, 1860

Where is there dignity unless there is honesty?
Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC)

There is a healthful hardiness about real dignity that never dreads contact and communion with others, however humble.
Washington Irving (1783 - 1859)

If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things.
Rene Descartes (1596 - 1650)

I show you doubt, to prove that faith exists.
Robert Browning (1812 - 1889)

To believe with certainty we must begin with doubting. Doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is absurd.
Voltaire (1694 - 1778)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all others.
Cicero (106 BC - 43 BC), 'Pro Plancio,' 54 B.C.

If we cannot live so as to be happy, let us least live so as to deserve it.
Immanuel Hermann Fichte

Happiness isn't something you experience; it's something you remember.
Oscar Levant (1906 - 1972)

Happiness comes of the capacity to feel deeply, to enjoy simply, to think freely, to risk life, to be needed.
Storm Jameson

It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.
Andre Gide (1869 - 1951)

Nurture your mind with great thoughts; to believe in the heroic makes heroes.
Benjamin Disraeli (1804 - 1881)

Reputation is what other people know about you. Honor is what you know about yourself.
Lois McMaster Bujold, "A Civil Campaign", 1999

Honor does not have to be defended.
Robert J. Sawyer (1960 - ), "Calculating God", 2000

Wit makes its own welcome, and levels all distinctions. No dignity, no learning, no force of character, can make any stand against good wit.
Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 - 1882), Letters and Social Aims: The Comic, 1876

Great spirits have always encountered opposition from mediocre minds. The mediocre mind is incapable of understanding the man who refuses to bow blindly to conventional prejudices and chooses instead to express his opinions courageously and honestly.
Albert Einstein (1879 - 1955), quoted in New York Times, March 13, 1940

Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo.
H. G. Wells (1866 - 1946), The Wife of Sir Isaac Harman (1914)

Recompense injury with justice, and recompense kindness with kindness.
Confucius

We cannot really love anybody with whom we never laugh.
Agnes Repplier (1855 - 1950), Americans and Others, 1912


I was irrevocably betrothed to laughter, the sound of which has always seemed to me to be the most civilized music in the world.
Peter Ustinov (1921 - 2004)

The Ledger Timeout Movie Reviews

"Good Luck Chuck"
3:10 to Yuma
"Dragon Wars"