OLD POETS NEVER DIE

Today I went through some boxes of miscellaneous items I had assumed was simply junk to throw away. But what I found was poetry I'd written through the years. Some were penned when I was in high school, and the rest later on after we began moving around. Stuff written when we moved to Cedar Rapids, IA, more poems I'd written in Omaha, NE, then Sioux City IA and Kalamazoo, MI. Lots and lots of fairly decent poetry, some I'd forgotten through the years. Some I'd submitted to magazines and newspapers, some actually accepted for publication in poetry journals, and also several one- & two-act plays I'd submitted to local playhouses (and letters from the directors).

I probably inherited this special talent from my dad's side of the family--my aunts on that side were poets and artists who painted with oils, whereas, I had never experimented with oils, but instead chose pencil, charcoal, oil pastels and watercolors.

So today I read through all those old poems and ended up wondering what would happen to them after I'm gone. I suspect they'll be dumped, because if nobody complimented me on all that work while I was alive, why would anyone suddenly care when I'm no longer here to enjoy a few words of praise for writing such a mountain of work . . . and that doesn't even include the enormous amount of research I did for several novels. I did not leave any stone unturned to find the information I needed to write a Great Depression historical novel and three Arctic novels (two for children, and one historical novel for young adults/grownups).

So I'm sitting here thinking, "What the hell? All that important work for nothing?" I even created my own cover art for most of those books, plus formatted, edited, and proofread them, then published all but one myself. (The first one was traditionally published.)

It's sad to think some of my family will just not give a shit how hard I worked and how much I taught myself about writing and publishing.

My dad would've been proud of me. His sisters (my aunts) would've been proud of me. And I'm proud of myself for what I accomplished. My paternal grandmother had been an artist whose comic strips were published in her local newspaper. I was delighted to discover a couple of those in a box of photos and other items I inherited from my ancestors.

Well, that's enough whining. People will do whatever they want. But I hope they'll know those words were written from my heart.

Have a great year, folks!

Namaste!

JUST A CRAPPY POEM

 

THE DAY MAMA WENT TO POT

It always starts on Monday.

Let me tell you what this means.

She’s really in a hurry.

Was it the sauerkraut or the beans?

She sets her mind in that direction,

knows it’s nothing or it’s all.

But the minute that decision’s made,

she hears the door close in the hall.

She stands in twisted torment,

and tears began to flow.

And by the time the bathroom’s empty,

she doesn’t have to go.

It’s like that every morning,

and if you’re good at math,

you can figure out that Thursday

is when grandpa takes his bath.

She hears the water running,

hears him splashing in the tub.

An hour or so goes by—

it isn’t long—but here’s the rub:

she hears her innards grumbling

and sweat begins to flow.

But when at last he’s finished,

she doesn’t have to go.

It won’t come out at noon,

and it won’t come out all day.

But she always has to go again

when the kids go out to play.

Now’s the chance to go ahead

and try to get it done.

She locks the door then suddenly

everybody’s on the run.

But she tenses up her muscles

while in her heart she knows

she’s really put it off too long.

Now it’s hard for her to go.

She sits in perfect misery

and listens to the roar

of every family member

as they try to budge the door.

She doesn’t know what makes them guess—

can they really read her mind?

They’ll be six houses down the road

when someone yells,

“Come on gang . . . it’s time!”

Now Mama’s getting nervous

and she begins to moan

as someone hollers through the door,

“You’re wanted on the phone!”

But as she lives and breathes,

there always comes a day

when she tries but really can’t—

the urge has gone away.

Will she have to take a physic

or maybe drink some juice?

It’ll take a stick of dynamite

to blast the critter loose!

~~~

Long after everyone

has slumbered off to sleep,

Mama gets up silently—

an appointment she must keep.

She tiptoes to the bathroom—

no one must ever know

that in the quiet of the night,

she thinks that she can go!

So she sits in queenly splendor

with a smile upon her face.

It’s only then she notices . . .

there’s not a piece of paper in the place!

 

By Bonnie Turner

Independence, Missouri, 1970

 

 

TODAY'S VIOLENT CULTURE

This country features and thrives on violence and horror everywhere we turn. It's no wonder there are so many killings these days. It's a fact that many young people are growing up with violence-filled minds.

And don't say "pray about it," because prayer doesn't work to stop people who are only out to make money from their violent movies, books, video games, and VR games, which can contain subliminal messages and put the players right in the game with a gun in his hand -- "Oh look! I'm going to blast this guy away! Isn't this fun? Don't worry, it's only a game!"

Doesn't anyone have enough brains to figure this out? The information is out there for anyone who has the guts to dig it out, study it, and post about it. Oh yeah, and it would help if guns weren't so readily available. I am sick of this! There are answers and solutions to the problem. But I can't do it all by myself. We need people to rise up and demand: "This is enough!"

If this is your form of entertainment, YOU can do something about it.

"What the mind of man can conceive and believe, can be achieved." - Napoleon Hill (American self-help author)

Oh, and Happy Holidays!

Namaste!

 

My Published Books

E-books & Tree books for your reading enjoyment

For Family Members only!

SHORT CIRCUITS & BRAIN FARTS is a memoir containing bits and pieces of my writing activities over the years: slapstick, one-liners, and art work. I leave this to my family and friends to remind them how totally goofy I am.

This book was written between the writing and publishing of my novels. It served as a great writer's block breaker. I hope you have as much fun reading Short Circuit as I had writing it.

Cheers!

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

👀 BRAND NEW RELEASE! 👀 

A tender but fierce love story about a young Afro-Asian paramedic coming to terms with his identity and a feisty Caucasian girl fed up with her strict American upbringing. Paul Angers (Kimchi) and a young woman with a rickshaw meet at a zoo and end up in each other’s arms.

It's Kansas City, Missouri, 1977, and Paul Angers has flashbacks of his Korean mother and sister as their small group of refugees traveled through the mountains to find safety in war-torn Korea. This mixed-race young man's whole life changed after his adoption by an American couple.

Kimchi will entertain you with his knowledge of martial arts and fire rescues, and will soothe the racist beast that may lurk unbidden inside of you. A gritty story of compassion and memories of his Korean mother, Cam—who abandoned him at an orphanage when he was four years old.

This courageous young man deals with a racist fire chief, and the girl he wants rejects him repeatedly. He expects the racism—he's dealt with it all his life—but he does not expect to fall in love. Available as e-book and print at Amazon.com.

***

FOOTPRINTS IN TIME

A Walk in Sacajawea’s Moccasins

On the Lewis & Clark Trail

This book is dedicated to the brave men and women who faced the unknown to forge trails across this wide and wild continent.

When America was young, many pioneers left their footprints in the sands of time as they explored the land from east to west. In 1805, a young native woman joined the Lewis and Clark expedition, and with a papoose on her back, helped explore America’s northwest.

This book is for readers ages 8-12 years who want to learn more about Sacajawea, her papoose Pomp, and the explorers Lewis and Clark.

***

Face the Winter Naked is Historical Fiction set in the Great Depression of 1932, in my birth state, Missouri. You will definitely enjoy this novel, which some have compared favorably to The Grapes of Wrath, by John Steinbeck. I am so honored! 

 

The Ghost of Calico Acres is what I call a modern Gothic-Romance-Suspense-Mystery, and it's up to you to figure out who or what is haunting Calico Acres. I had such fun writing this one!   

Down the Memory Hole is for middle-grades through senior citizens. All ages love it. I once worked as a caregiver for an elderly Alzheimer's patient, so I am quite familiar with that condition. This story is a laugh-out-loud story as seen through the eyes and heart of a 12-year-old boy who dearly loves his grandfather but wishes they weren't roommates.

As you see, I love writing about the Arctic and have a 3-book series: The Haunted Igloo, Book 1, Spirit Lights, Book 2, and Drum Dance, Book 3. Not only are these books sequels, but each stands alone and the characters age. (Books 1 & 2 are for middle-grade readers, but Drum Dance is young adult through adult. It is not for young kids, but still carries my Arctic theme. And there's a surprise in it for those who read Spirit Lights!)

My books are available from Amazon.com

. They are available in both e-books and print, which are nice for gift-giving. I would appreciate your checking them out, and, if you enjoyed reading them, please tell your friends, and also leave a brief review on the books' content pages.

I thank you . . . and my characters love you!

BUY NOW! Amazon ***

*** 
NOTE: These books are temporarily unavailable from Amazon.  If anyone is interested in purchasing an ebook only, please contact me via private message.  

https://www.facebook.com/bonnie.turner.5  

If you have MS Word, a Kindle or another ebook reader, I can send you a link to the file. (All books are priced at $2 and cash only through PayPal.) If you have a Kindle reader, you can download this app and easily transfer a link to your Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/sendtokindle/pc

Thank you!

Bonnie

Guru's Path: VR vs. REAL LIFE

Guru's Path: VR vs. REAL LIFE:   I’ve often believed that the massacres in the United States these past few years are caused partly by the increasing use of violent vide...

WHITE BUFFALO (CALF) PROPHECY

After President Joe Biden stepped down to allow Vice-President Kamala Harris to take his place, I've wondered if a newborn white buffalo calf fulfills a tribal prophecy, according to Native American spiritual leaders. The rare white calf was born June 4, 2024, in Yellowstone National Park’s Lamar Valley, and a couple of weeks later, Biden was forced to quit the race for his second term and endorsed his vice president to continue carrying his banner.

I can't help wondering: Is Kamala Harris the fulfillment of that sacred prophecy? Read the following article and draw your own conclusion.

https://nativeheritageproject.com/2012/05/19/white-buffalo-calf-prophecy/ 

Also worth reading is the book Black Elk Speaks (available at Amazon.com), where the medicine man Black Elk talks about his visions, some of which seem to be fulfilling currently. 

And taking the visions and prophecies a step further, one must not forget the trance predictions of Edgar Cayce, in the book The Sleeping Prophet. Cayce's Earth-change predictions may already be underway. He mentions the shifting of the poles, which has occurred through previous incarnations of our planet. Cayce, when asked how this would come about, replied that humans would start the process and nature would finish it. I came away with the feeling that Earth itself would not be destroyed, because the seer said he would reincarnate in a different body in Nebraska, in the year 2158, and that Nebraska would be on a coastal area.

So, adding all these predictions together, I feel we are at the beginning of the Earth changes, as well as a spiritual renewal through the sacred white buffalo calf, which may possibly be represented by our own Kamala Harris. She may not realize this, but I sincerely believe she has the ability and love for our planet and its people to speed things along and help to heal the mess mankind has made of this third bright planet from the sun. From what I see, she's already making a good start, and people are loving her. A white buffalo in the form of a woman, Asian-Black American or not, perhaps she represents Mother Earth and the fulfillment of a prophecy. I hope I am right.

Namaste!

 

WAKE THE HECK UP, PEOPLE!

Serious thinking here about Joe Biden and the Dems insisting he step down. 

Does anyone realize if he does that, many of his loyal supporters might be so hurt and angry that they wouldn't bother to vote at all? I sincerely hope that doesn't happen, because this country would be in a world of deep sh*t for sure if we ended up with a dictator.

Many of the younger generation don't know who Hitler was and what he stood for. But I'm a member of the so-called "greatest generation," and I recall how tragic that era was, and how many lives were lost.

VOTE BLUE, NO MATTER WHO! Our lives depend on it. Our children's lives depend on it. Think peace, and vote for Joe Biden, the peace maker. If anyone deserved a pair of wings, it's this man.

Namaste!