tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-323031872024-03-05T07:22:32.546-05:00The Bird Talks Blog Too! By Poet & Writer Linda Joy BurkePoetry, Creative Non-fiction, Cultural Commentary, Reviews, Photography and Art - created back in the days of dial up. Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-25876606806022314082013-08-08T11:02:00.004-05:002013-08-08T11:02:54.817-05:00Signs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<h3 class="groupname date">
<span> </span>
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I've
been thinking lately about how many new rules have shown up. I'm not
talking about government rules, I'm talking about the kind of rules that
are unspoken. The invisible rules in the social order. The way we are
communicating governed by a few tech creatives, a few cultural creatives
and a few anarchist who swear that being wired is the ultimate way to
go. <br /><br />Every day I watch folks move through their lives, not
actually seeing the life around them, because they are engrossed in the
electronic gadget in front of their eyes - or we have the uniform
accessory of choice for the 21st century the ipod. I love the genius of
invention and I resent the glut of ways that folks can get to me and
the expectation that I should respond immediately. I'm a mixed media
artist, so perhaps this rebellion against the pressure of response and
engagement every day to my world of friends is perfectly normal. If i'm
in the social media world, i miss my own inner world. The house and
garden suffer, the dog starts to look a little like a hobo and my mind
becomes overloaded with other people's opinions and feelings about too
many things. <br /><br />Some days I step back turn off all the sound, and
listen to the drone of voices in my head that are my own. . These are
incredibly exciting and terrifying times. Artists in the 21st century
are fearless, not bound by the overtly conservative morees of the past
century anything and everything goes. <br /><br />I think the cultural
creatives could really start little revolutions all over the planet, and
provoke some real evolution towards the common good. Just like they did
in the 60's. There was a kind of brilliance there that showed up in
every part of life. Made such a difference in freeing people's
conciousness, actually helped to wake folks up to a new kind of Freedom.
Like the 60's it's not all good. We know that cause folks/people aren't
all good.<br /><br /> Technology in the hands of folks who are working
towards the common good offers opportunities that are boundless. I
foresee that we'll be moving towards a quest for balance in these next
decades. We have the opportunity now to develop as brilliantly
empathetic people - or heaven forbid tilt the scale in the opposite
direction. </div>
Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-24029340627444935072013-03-19T15:54:00.004-05:002013-03-19T15:54:39.891-05:00Life is What Happens III - Leaving Suburbia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Days are the ticking of the clock </div>
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goin' round, alarms sound</div>
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beginning the day's race</div>
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through green, yellow, red</div>
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green,yellow, red</div>
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changing too fast in the day </div>
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slowed down to flashing in the night. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Pedestrians march past city pigeons,</div>
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seldom startled into flight,</div>
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church bells chiming, car alarms</div>
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beeping and whining, merchants</div>
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unlocking and raising their gates.</div>
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Clank of change in computerized </div>
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drawers, retrograde fashions </div>
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clogging the stores, clandestine </div>
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smokers block office building</div>
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doors. Fast cars with vanity </div>
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plates pass panhandlers with box </div>
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card signs, begging the movers </div>
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for ten times a dime.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And some shady man</div>
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sellin' contra band</div>
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taps me on the shoulder</div>
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he said "We ain't gonna get much older,</div>
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seems all the world is thieves,</div>
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straight at the top,</div>
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it ain't gonna stop this</div>
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foolish land of plenty bit,</div>
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and you and I we be gettin by</div>
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by just ignoring all this shit."</div>
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He said, "Take my hand you</div>
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gotta make a stand, to deal with</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this unnatural life."He said, 'Have </div>
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smoke, you'll see it's all a joke,</div>
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then you'll be naturally aware, </div>
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then you won't have to care, </div>
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'bout sellin' and buyin'</div>
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your soul."</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiki3YGd954dT_6u8PlkSUhU3p54QzEcA8st_q7pHr_kTA-MAvZ9siQioM1vZ3i8SE3-YEMqX3kVvAaEhkOOCySwLLWw2GywMreqqFMQ0SNV9kAOpeYTMIIzSymBrh5HjKGZgeo/s1600/DSCN0075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiki3YGd954dT_6u8PlkSUhU3p54QzEcA8st_q7pHr_kTA-MAvZ9siQioM1vZ3i8SE3-YEMqX3kVvAaEhkOOCySwLLWw2GywMreqqFMQ0SNV9kAOpeYTMIIzSymBrh5HjKGZgeo/s200/DSCN0075.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Wind blows suddenly</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
against a porch chime, </div>
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angelic sound slows</div>
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down too fast time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
jangled on the wind.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Copyright 9/94 Linda Joy Burke</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This Poem originally appeared in "When Divas Laugh" Edited by Chezia Cager </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
available at <a href="http://www.blackclassicbooks.com/servlet/Detail?no=74" target="_blank">Black Classic Press </a></div>
</div>
Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-62835451078485170522012-07-10T17:06:00.001-05:002012-07-10T17:06:31.092-05:00Poetry Programs<a href="http://www.prattlibrary.org/calendar/series.aspx?folder=12211">Poetry Programs</a>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-69580860607115534912012-03-11T20:52:00.000-05:002012-03-11T20:52:27.459-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<b> Moods, Minds, and Multitudes</b><br />
<b>Book I – Somewhere Between There and Here</b><br />
Poems and Photographs by Linda Joy Burke<br />
<i>A review by Kirk Mullen, facilitator of BES’s Poetry Sunday </i><br />
<br />
Our Sunday School teacher, Linda Joy Burke, has produced a
chapbook composed of seven poems and eight accompanying photographs. In
reading the poems, I had to stop after the first two – to
psychologically catch my breath. It was as though a vein had been
opened up and my life was slowly ebbing away. The only remedy was to
put the poems down and come back to them later in the day.<br />
<br />
<br />
After finishing the poems later that day, I told a friend about
how good they were. The poems are disturbing, because they easily take
root within your affective domain and those roots are nourished by the
images and thoughts that you, the reader, have had to suppress in order
to get your mundane and necessary activities of life accomplished. Ms.
Burke’s photographs complement her poems. The two, (photographs and
poems) chronicle that which is happening around us at this very moment,
and yet half of the poems were written between two and five years
ago.<br />
<br />
<br />
If you desire to read well-written socially conscious poems that
make you think and reflect on our times, then I suggest that you
contact Ms. Burke. Good poetry does not always bring a smile to your
face.<br />
<br />
<br />
Copies of <i>Moods, Minds, and Multitudes</i> are available for $15.<br />
<a href="http://www.lulu.com/commerce/index.php?fBuyContent=9259886"><img alt="Support independent publishing: Buy this book on
Lulu." border="0" src="http://static.lulu.com/images/services/buy_now_buttons/us/orange.gif?20120131141155" /></a><br />
<br /></div>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-7886725690248411122011-03-05T13:41:00.008-05:002011-03-05T14:17:29.887-05:00Fired Up<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvrfxtFQdSfHCKpPDB8SS2kxlgpWsaSdKFPhAevEN8YogwDL6iq6BnpTV0ydBY1oSUmzLZCYgcwMVnBiXcmqWb1iHq8WfpUhZ459on_wHOfZ2s9-lFsS8jYIUBmrFbLotfLeG/s1600/Chalk+Art+Columbia+festival+of+the+arts.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 297px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMvrfxtFQdSfHCKpPDB8SS2kxlgpWsaSdKFPhAevEN8YogwDL6iq6BnpTV0ydBY1oSUmzLZCYgcwMVnBiXcmqWb1iHq8WfpUhZ459on_wHOfZ2s9-lFsS8jYIUBmrFbLotfLeG/s320/Chalk+Art+Columbia+festival+of+the+arts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580673245090024162" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">chalk art-Columbia Festival of the Arts -<br /> Photo ljoyburke</span><br /><br /></div><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">A week ago, I turned on the fire under my little single egg frying pan to warm it up, and while I was waiting, went back to do something in my office. When I returned to the kitchen a minute later the frying pan was on fire. I was shocked, but calm, because the fire was small enough that I was able to quickly pour baking soda on it to put the fire out. If I had waited say a couple of minutes more, that fire would have turned into something much worse. Needless to say I was filled with gratitude with my knowledge of how to put out a grease fire, and my ability to maintain a calm focus.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Later that evening I read about this fire in </span><a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);" href="http://www.aolnews.com/2011/03/04/day-care-operator-jessica-tata-charged-in-fire-that-killed-4/?icid=maing%7Cmain5%7Cdl1%7Csec1_lnk2%7C48518">Houston Texas</a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">, involving a daycare provider, and the death of 4 of the 7 toddlers in her care. When the story broke, we heard that the woman had left something on the stove in the kitchen, while she was in the bathroom, and it caught on fire.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">In a follow up story we learn that camera's at a nearby Target store had captured her image while she was shopping, instead of being in the house with the children. She's fled the country, and the legal system is hoping for her extradition.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">I decided to read the comments to this particular article because this is such a devastating thing to have happened those who were killed, and to those left behind. I wanted to know how the community was responding and add my prayers and condolences to the voices.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">As I read, I was greatful with those who chose to stand against the hateful rants that also accompanied this story. I believe that this woman should </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">absolutely</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> be brought to justice. I agreed also with those who complain that there are a lot of folks who are slackers, just do enough to get by, and don't care. I see it every day, and it frustrates sometimes and angers me at others. I also believe that there is a good deal of negligence that occurs when it comes to children, ask them - they'll tell you for themselves. They'll tell you in no uncertain terms, that they don't believe people have respect for each other. I know because I've asked them and truly that's a sad state of affairs. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">These years with our new found freedom of speech through cyber-speak, are showing how profoundly judgmental and at times vile we are. It makes for an insidious level of disconnect in our day to day interactions . This is the world we are creating for our children - the history we are teaching - the model for being in the world. If that is what we perpetuate, we shouldn't be alarmed when those next generations who will be running the world when we are older, aren't doing it like we think they're supposed to.<br /><br /><br />All rights Reserved by Author - Linda Joy Burke<br /></span>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-28499847427510790082010-06-22T10:34:00.001-05:002010-06-22T10:35:33.567-05:00A Tribute to Lucille Clifton (1936 - 2010)<div> <h2><span style="font-size:100%;">A Tribute to Lucille Clifton (1936 - 2010)</span></h2> <div id="Event_Information"> <div id="Description"> Poet Lucille Clifton was a mentor, friend, and teacher to scores of writers in Maryland and around the country. Clifton served as Poet Laureate for the State of Maryland and was Distinguished Professor of Humantities at St. Mary's College of Maryland. She received the National Book Award for her poetry collection, <em>Blessing the Boats</em> (2000). Clifton wrote more than 16 books for children. She served as trustee of the Enoch Pratt Free Library from 1975 to 1984.<br /><br />Join us for this celebration of the life of Lucille Clifton. Poets from Baltimore and around the state will raise their voices to honor the memory of Clifton's life and works. We invite you to bring your favorite Lucille Clifton poem to share.<br /></div></div></div><br />Enoch Pratt Free Library<br />Wheeler Auditorium (3rd Floor)<br />400 Cathedral Street, Baltimore MD<br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://www.prattlibrary.org/calendar/atpratt.aspx?id=51090">http://www.prattlibrary.org/calendar/atpratt.aspx?id=51090</a><br /> =Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-16244667332121417072010-05-06T12:09:00.000-05:002010-05-06T12:09:47.837-05:00Tribeca '10 | Icelandic Directing Duo Explore Falcon's Role in Geopolitics - indieWIRE<a href="http://www.indiewire.com/article/tribeca_10_icelandic_directing_duo_explore_falcons_role_in_geopolitics/">Tribeca '10 | Icelandic Directing Duo Explore Falcon's Role in Geopolitics - indieWIRE</a>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-68814316298984368492010-05-04T18:39:00.001-05:002010-05-13T11:01:55.252-05:00Listening to One Black Bird<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wwShByxIRyAnn-03gIxgL9m7lInSLjCi5hau-WYBkgv11CBFT7HjM22qx6b8KD0lIETRYUrbBTjs1gXupj4feCnHS-tpQq9D-u4o-JUZpS4W4pg4sF73G0sIEdQL5DiVPZOP/s1600/DSCN0450.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wwShByxIRyAnn-03gIxgL9m7lInSLjCi5hau-WYBkgv11CBFT7HjM22qx6b8KD0lIETRYUrbBTjs1gXupj4feCnHS-tpQq9D-u4o-JUZpS4W4pg4sF73G0sIEdQL5DiVPZOP/s400/DSCN0450.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The landscape is fully laden now with<br />the open leaves of spring<br />buds abound - hues shift<br />into the cacophony of early summer days<br /><br />high on a leafless branch<br />far from my reach<br />sits one black bird singing<br /><br />listen listen, I silence<br />the random ringings<br />listen listen<br /><br />my love is near-says she<br />listen listen<br />her song spills beauty into the air<br /><br />I shade my eyes, cock my head<br />search the branches for the<br />musician I cannot touch<br /><br />the singer tilts her beak toward<br />cumulus clouds-<br />trilling trilling<br /><br />the park is empty<br />save for squirrels foraging,<br />amongst pods floating from trees.<br /><br />a time of innocence remembered<br />surfaces - summers long buried<br />converge with those yet to be.<br /><br />one black bird sings of longing - longing<br />harmonic notes rise to envelope<br />seekers in the wood.<br /><br />Linda Joy Burke<br />All Rights Reserved By Author<br /><br /><div style="clear: both;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none; padding: 0px; background: none repeat scroll 0% 50% transparent;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-85438945844284209902010-05-01T11:46:00.006-05:002010-05-01T12:32:43.250-05:00The Coincidence of Knowing KiloKilo - RIP 1998-2010<br /><br /><a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOaIKn0-FTcSMNfv15Rfdl2dX4P4TO4dXb6ebTUchB4EfkD9Nmm0e0NA0oHQdm5Tqauk3-Txeeny5zYdkwPt91VicCBSbi72pZAHPO1AhlBEeuJVxkYoEGuSWEMmuv45Kzxt72/s1600/4059228389_0f88cae8e1_b.jpg'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOaIKn0-FTcSMNfv15Rfdl2dX4P4TO4dXb6ebTUchB4EfkD9Nmm0e0NA0oHQdm5Tqauk3-Txeeny5zYdkwPt91VicCBSbi72pZAHPO1AhlBEeuJVxkYoEGuSWEMmuv45Kzxt72/s400/4059228389_0f88cae8e1_b.jpg' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /></a> <div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br /><br />I met Kilo about 3 years ago, actually I met Kilo's mom before I met Kilo.<br />I was walking my dog in the neighborhood when this woman came across the street towards me announcing "I have a dog just a like yours Girl or Boy?." We shared dog stories, my current one being that I needed a place that hadn't been sprayed with pesticides so that my dog could go to the bathroom. Every spring some bug-be-gone company comes to the complex and treats the grounds with chemicals that are harmful to pets and children. I point out the yellow <span style="font-weight:bold;">Keep Off The Grass</span> signs to M while we walk and talk. Every year the person who does the spraying - puts up fewer and fewer warning signs - you've got to be alert to know where they are.<br /><br />She tells me my dog is friendlier than hers, I tell her mine used to be hyper, I'm the Bean's second person. She tells me that she's had Kilo since he was 6 months. We part ways at the narrow dirt path that leads to the convenience store, both of us smiling with the delight of having met each other because of our dogs. I cross the street to get to untainted grass.<br /><br />I met Kilo some weeks later, though I didn't know this was the same dog as he was with an older gentleman. We would pass on our walks - Kilo and his man person, the Bean and me, however our dogs weren't really friendly, so the man and I just said "hi" to each other or nodded and kept on walking. One day I had my little Canon Sure shot with me when I took the picture linked to this piece.I thought his dog was adorable.<br /><br />The couple and Kilo moved into the building where I live last fall. That's when I put all of the three faces together and realized that I had heard about Kilo before I'd met him.<br /><br />Kilo passed away on May 29, 2010 6:00 am - the same day as his dad's birthday. His dad works the graveyard shift, get's off at 6:30 a.m. takes the bus home.<br /><br />It feels sudden to me because just two days earlier I was jogging down the sidewalk when Ki ran after me barking. I paused mid stride and turned to look at him, he stopped, cocked his little head to the side, and stared back at me.<br /><br />That's my last memory of Ki, his dad picking him up and saying, "he'll run after everything." We laughed, went home.<br /><br />M. tells me their last memories of K, beyond what I'd already witnessed: T carrying the open box to the car, his companion rigid inside.I listen to her story, and picture the long painful ride to the animal shelter,them paying the bill for the disposition of Ki's remains.That was the day that the construction crew spent the day working on the exterior of the building, replacing on the wood soffits with metal. The sound of sawing and hammering permeated the air until after 7 that evening. This was not a peaceful departure. <br /><br />M. tells me about how T keeps things inside. I can tell T's a stoic like that, and I know from what I've seen of him and Ki that his memories run deep. Turns out that this photo may be the only one available to them, which I will print out, frame and give them later today. <br /><br />As I write this I am struck by how a simple conversation about dogs, evolved into my preserving a memory for folks who were strangers-then neighbors and now by this connection friends.Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-15075158729154912562010-04-07T11:56:00.000-05:002010-04-07T11:57:12.288-05:00<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhni3MTVH_ek5hRQQ6ajptQIT0hHTZ2B3Pm1EaZy7Oq7Xpq06XSOCb2iwhwlbqIft_HD6RZjCO0-KJhhyfkaV25S2xDvTIWBgcocJHK7huzm1k_NNQuc8aZWOeoRGm_sQIeYZVL/s1600/Small+Heron+-+Florida.jpg'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhni3MTVH_ek5hRQQ6ajptQIT0hHTZ2B3Pm1EaZy7Oq7Xpq06XSOCb2iwhwlbqIft_HD6RZjCO0-KJhhyfkaV25S2xDvTIWBgcocJHK7huzm1k_NNQuc8aZWOeoRGm_sQIeYZVL/s400/Small+Heron+-+Florida.jpg' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><br />Welcome spring.<div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-62556903903689536122009-09-20T10:56:00.006-05:002009-09-20T22:37:49.756-05:00Flights of Fancy - Butterflies on DisplayI went to Brookside gardens in Wheaton Regional Park yesterday afternoon, to see a live Butterfly exhibit. I confess I had mixed feelings about the exhibit. On the one hand the spectacle was beautiful, hundreds of different kinds of butterflies, on flowers, on trees,on fruit, fluttering through the air, and occasionally landing on us. The picture here is from the butterfly on melon collection. On the other hand as I watched the butterflies gathered at the top of the green house, perched on the netting as close as they could be to the sky, I imagined their little butterfly minds screaming we are free beings - not an "exhibit". It was Children's day at Brookside so there was a lot of chatter, squealing, movement, and excitement whenever one landed on someone. One landed on me and stayed with me for a bit of time, and I truly felt blessed. I wondered what it would be like to be there alone with all those fragile creatures fluttering about - would the peaceful energy I felt be amplified without the buffer of so many other bodies. <br /><br />What I took away from the experience, was many pictures and a little video, and a desire to grow flowers that would entice these magical creatures. This is a task for my garden next year. The Brookside Garden Exhibit ends today.<object id="BLOG_video-FAILED" class="BLOG_video_class" contentid="FAILED" height="266" width="320"></object>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-49456955097837897102009-06-20T23:24:00.008-05:002009-08-05T21:26:47.278-05:00Sometimes There Be Jerks in These Here HillsWhen this grown man decided that it would be funny to come up behind me and try to scare me while I was telling a story during the evening's Ghost Tour, I was not amused. There I am, standing on a stone stair, when all of the sudden I hear what sounds like a firecracker behind me. Interestingly enough I wasn't frightened, felt a little startled which is good. Had I been really frightened I might have fallen off the step. <br /><br />When I turned around to see what had made the sound, there was the guy who previously had been sitting with his date, high up on the pile of schist (Ellicott city granite.) By the feel of things I don't think the group I was leading was amused either. The prank bombed. I had no indication from their expressions that they saw the guy coming as they were listening closely to me. The guy wound up slinking off throwing apologies over his shoulder. I did not respond - looked at my tour group, inhaled and continued telling the story. <br /><br />Someone asked me later, "does that happen often?" <br />Something always happens, usually it's to scare the whole group, which I don't mind, we get a laugh, catch our breath, move on. Every once in a while though folks can be jerks and my mettle is tested. I've got about 40 seconds to prevent an internal melt down. No melt down... Fortunately the stick to the script signals reached my brain in ample time tonight, the show went on, the audience was pleased.Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-29512123943370932732009-06-11T10:38:00.011-05:002009-08-02T10:20:42.312-05:00Do We Really Want the World We Live in to be Dominated by Those who Would Wish and Perpetrate the Worst on People they Disagree With?Clicked on this <a href="http://news.aol.com/main/politics/article/obama-feet-up-photo/522634?icid=main|main|dl1|link2|http%3A%2F%2Fnews.aol.com%2Fmain%2Fpolitics%2Farticle%2Fobama-feet-up-photo%2F522634">article</a> this morning, about the Pres. photographed while talking on the phone with his feet up the desk. The soles of his shoes were facing the camera. The lead line in this piece poses the question on whether Pres. Obama is sending a Subliminal Message with the Soles of His Shoe, equating this (from my viewpoint)innocent behavior of talking on the phone with your feet up, to that Shoe Throwing Incident with the past pres.<br /> <br />I'm noticing a pattern in these kinds of articles, with lead phrase set up to skew one's opinion before reading the piece. That's the real subliminal message - not the fact that Pres. had his feet up on a desk. A photographer follows him around all day, takes 1000's of photos.Some days it feels as if our collective inner child has taken over with the way things/people/ways of being are scrutinized. Boundaries are a pass code- Nothing being sacred, or secret the norm rather than the exception.<br /><br />This nonsense couched as "news" is an insult to progressive, thoughtful people. The poll (there’s always a poll) asks how many are insulted - 26% 100,000 clicks, were and how many weren’t 74%. The comments, unfortunately many from those folks who were insulted were mad and mean. The thing about this new culture of vitriolic, put it on cyber blast criticism, is that it easily infects those folks whose spiritual immune system is so weak that it only takes a photo to validate their feelings of hate.<br /><br />I am reminded me of another time in American history where organizations like the <a href="http://mdah.state.ms.us/arrec/digital_archives/sovcom/">Sovereinty Commission </a> existed. The commission, an official agency which was based in Mississippi from 1956-1973, and funded by tax dollars, had the sole purpose to repress Black people. The guy who Murdered the guard at the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC this month is of the same ilk as members of this Sovereignty Commission. <br /><br />There's a new Code Level emerging in this age of fighting terrorism - which seems is being taken directly to the people. Check out this <a href="http://www.salon.com/opinion/walsh/politics/2009/06/10/von_brunn/">piece</a> in Salon magazine which speaks directly to that notion. <br /><br />I've been concerned for over ten years now, and believe more than ever, that how we assert our citizenship - our humanity during these times, will directly impact our offspring's future. Boomers the generation that is bound to the tragedies of our separate and unequal histories are far removed from the millennials whose connection to web of the digital world empowers them with the capacity to truly be transformative. <br /><br />Where one group has possibly had a scarcity of information about people/cultures/ways of being different than themselves, the other knows limitless possibilities in discovery. The tension between the forces of progress and regression call us all to a kind of crucial attention. Here’s my provocative question again, do we really want the world we live in to be dominated by those who would wish and perpetrate the worst on people they disagree with?Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-86708984106737016882009-03-27T15:23:00.005-05:002009-03-29T15:11:33.298-05:00A Random Post In The Middle of The Day<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wDZFf0pm0SE&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wDZFf0pm0SE&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />I was visiting two retired teachers, Rachel Smith and Singer Songwriter Emmalene Garrett Penn on Friday afternoon. I'd just shot a little video of Penn singing her new single <a href="http://www.TeachersRevive.com">Teachers' Tears</a>, and I wanted to show them how videos can be used in websites. <br /><br />When I went through the Rolodex of my mind to find something to load onto my site, Stevie Wonder's name immediately appeared. When I was child the first three albums I remember receiving were <span style="font-style:italic;">Sly and the Family Stone, The Jackson Five</span>, and then a little later Stevie's first album. Stevie was a real miracle to me back then, still is, so much creative passion in him. <span style="font-style:italic;">Superstition</span> is an interesting song, considering those years. <br /><br />Old heads (children of immigrants and the enslaved) had barrels of superstitions which they passed down to their children, while New Age citizens were delving into metaphysics, paranormal psychology, extra terrestrial/walk-ins, and worrying about alien abductions. Those years were such a <span style="font-style:italic;">fun</span> time for self discovery the younger boomers.Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-86466050313537357242009-02-28T21:22:00.000-05:002009-02-28T21:22:58.824-05:00Heron at Wilde Lake<div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"> </div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRoDIxxs4ne2GZkB_h6og3_PJomjgG5LysYiNunAYB8ekz1wD5URNJr333ZoG4N3P_yz-wfbzBLDV6KoE0_G2dLPI7CwHPRLiA3gIg1bP7jPG1oULoaVRJ3Gx6bNahRvzZmszL/s1600-h/2008_09_13.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 468px; HEIGHT: 369px" height="376" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRoDIxxs4ne2GZkB_h6og3_PJomjgG5LysYiNunAYB8ekz1wD5URNJr333ZoG4N3P_yz-wfbzBLDV6KoE0_G2dLPI7CwHPRLiA3gIg1bP7jPG1oULoaVRJ3Gx6bNahRvzZmszL/s400/2008_09_13.jpg" width="438" border="0" /></a><br /> <span style="color:#009900;"> ljoyburke<br /> <br /><em> While working on some projects,<br /> I ran across these heron photos from the last season.<br /> My mind is filled with so many distractions<br /> wanting to just spend weeks away from the<br /> heavy handed news, that I decided to stop<br /> working and do a little creating<br /><br /> visioning that I am<br /> wrapped in a verdant <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">batik</span><br /> listening to so many notes up lifting<br /> smelling fragrant scents drifting<br /> wishing for </em><em>resurrections redeeming<br /> in this troubled land of the free.<br /><br /><br /><br /></em></span><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-89501828607408008742008-12-28T22:29:00.004-05:002009-01-27T23:32:06.561-05:00Ending an Era<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Obamaphoria - how</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">the American Dream</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">evolves</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">pockets of jubilant</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">people having placed their bet</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">on the President Elect</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Barack Obama</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">pack for the inauguration</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">pilgrimage </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">millions have cashed in on this</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">dose of hope, this promise</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">of change, this lift from</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">the malaise of war, treachery,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">manipulation and greed.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">we'd been looking for a hero</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">some compassion - and a brain bigger</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">than<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> the last man in charge </span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> a shift in vibration -<br />away from the self defeating<br />nature of fear and manipulation<br /> back to progressive<br />active participation<br />in the making of a respected<br />civilization.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">All rights reserved by author. Linda Joy Burke<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> </span>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-56369914074447734412008-09-22T21:45:00.001-05:002008-09-22T22:01:29.828-05:00Haunted Ellicott City<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaeNzcliuLAoR9aBomYsFt_c340WqYVr-2y48aAJpkx1R7yIzk7mIke7WhyphenhyphenNxsc4C0g2JMUfLnyY_jb6l0378xJOCfY-pBKHUVX7wHnND4XFE4p6cdqkfUs45Ua4IHzyCUBgKJ/s1600-h/EllicottCity'sGhostsDOUBLEDAREYOU.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; clear: both; float: right; width: 437px; height: 288px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaeNzcliuLAoR9aBomYsFt_c340WqYVr-2y48aAJpkx1R7yIzk7mIke7WhyphenhyphenNxsc4C0g2JMUfLnyY_jb6l0378xJOCfY-pBKHUVX7wHnND4XFE4p6cdqkfUs45Ua4IHzyCUBgKJ/s400/EllicottCity'sGhostsDOUBLEDAREYOU.jpg" border="0" width="578" height="358" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Three years ago I added another hobby to my already full life. I've </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">been</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> giving ghost tours in Ellicott City. I started doing this on the suggestion of a close friend who thought I would be </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">a</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">good</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">tour</span> guide<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">. I kept the information on my desk for months, until I decided what the </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">heck</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"> why not do something that I really hadn't in my wildest dreams thought I would do। </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Here's the thing, I never even knew that there was such a thing as ghost tours, and though I do have some familiarity with the paranormal and have even seen a few orbs, and witnessed a haunting, I never thought that people actually went on "ghost tours." Come to think of it when I imagined who would go on these tours, I saw a Black Sabbath type goth crowd, with a side of Wicca, and a sprinkle of druids.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">Well obviously since the Blair Witch project, which really was a dud in my opinion, the interest in the spirit world is a booming business. There are ghost hunters, ghost whisperers, ghost cleansers, certified paranormal investigators, and all manor of folks who follow the wonderful world of the afterlife. Most of the folks who come on these tours are far from what I imagine. They are mom's, dad's, grandparents, friends from out of town, college kids, red hat ladies, girl and boy scouts, birthday parties, and numerous social groups with a sprinkling of druids, pagans, goths, Wiccans and paranormal groupies.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">What we do in Ellicott City is a combination of history, and ghost stories, all first hand accounts from residents, business owners, tourists, and people who work in the town. I love history, and have always thought that I was born out of my time but that's another story. There's something telling about walking the streets in this historic town, (founded in 1771 by three Quaker brothers) with a different group of strangers and telling the stories. I get to learn about the nature of this small town the townies who like to try to scare us and the people who are willing to turn off their tv's and cell phones and black berries and all other forms of distraction and listen to our stories.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);">I say our stories because after a year and a half I had my own experience. I wasn't looking for anything to happen, it just did, and I had a witness, but that's another story. If you want to know more, come on one of my tours to find out. I had the privilege of being able to write Ghost Tour II which I will be giving on October 11th at 8:30pm and on October 31 at 6:30 and 8:30pm. and again in November. The season ends at the end of November right after Thanksgiving. For more information go to</span> <a href="http://www.visithowardcounty.com/">www.VisitHowardCounty.com</a>.<div style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-118879096003351982008-06-19T12:02:00.002-05:002009-01-27T23:22:08.546-05:00It's all downhill from here<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKz0cuj74myN3HaAu4-2Yp1FKzvCyp7Ssej37hI5GX0NyU9VFPdKYzUQpFCilUZbHtAZScpUdOyy8oV1zyx9nK5UBXeUo3EpE8VN67LT98PiPeZcvMtJ5OK1ee8el3I8n68js7/s1600-h/IMG_0612.JPG"><img style="width: 326px; height: 74px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKz0cuj74myN3HaAu4-2Yp1FKzvCyp7Ssej37hI5GX0NyU9VFPdKYzUQpFCilUZbHtAZScpUdOyy8oV1zyx9nK5UBXeUo3EpE8VN67LT98PiPeZcvMtJ5OK1ee8el3I8n68js7/s400/IMG_0612.JPG" border="0" width="834" height="356" /></a><br /><div style="clear: both;"> </div></div>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-20551110224514293802008-03-23T19:41:00.007-05:002008-03-23T20:24:15.299-05:00thoughts while waiting for the meek to inherit the earth<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhunbfABCskAhWzig5RNuOB7PuF0HMo6-rSxSRnYpFaHADx4tmz2ahViL88o_UALDo0JOVR_DEsDfZYDT60fokHd63oh3KGGYHrBfDbEjDgjVhR1Lxzrf8srtXg5OWXESRV_S8g/s1600-h/j0408836.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181111733200754114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 219px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px" height="274" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhunbfABCskAhWzig5RNuOB7PuF0HMo6-rSxSRnYpFaHADx4tmz2ahViL88o_UALDo0JOVR_DEsDfZYDT60fokHd63oh3KGGYHrBfDbEjDgjVhR1Lxzrf8srtXg5OWXESRV_S8g/s320/j0408836.jpg" width="228" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#663300;">In the face of the fall out from the mismanagement of the American Dream by the oval office and it’s greedy cronies we are experiencing an elevated threat level. The <em>evil doers</em> have stuck it to the believers, whose destinies were snatched out of their hands. We’re told that we’re not in a “recession” we’re at a slow down, more like a pause. The gross national product isn’t producing, foreclosure is the new household word, and being downsized doesn’t mean going from a twelve to a size four.<br /><br />I’m confused when they say there’s a credit crunch and the credit card companies, are pumping out these blank checks like water, offering temptation on the end of pen, made especially for those who’ve gotten themselves stretched too thin keeping up with their daily wants and needs.<br /><br />One would think that credit card companies would want to help out the banks and back off of the ridiculously greedy policies of charging interest rates that would never allow debtors to repay their debt, and finance charges on late fees that further compound the crisis that American families are in. I’ve come to realize that they prefer a passive/aggressive approach.<br /><br />I saw with the rising of gas prices and the disturbing preponderance of credit card offers, and cash advance checks, that it would only be a matter of time before undisciplined people would be seduced en mass to live way beyond their means. And even those who are doing the right thing, by not wasting resources, and not buying things that they can’t afford are struggling. It is immoral that a select few feel their sole purpose in life is to amass mass fortunes on the backs of the hard working multitudes.<br /><br />Part of the dream it seems is to acquire. Without acquiring we don’t know who we are, don’t have anything to be compared with, or to compete with. Without acquiring, we don’t know what we look like, sometimes we think we’re in on our own worse dressed list. Without acquiring we haven’t a clue as to what to do with ourselves during a blizzard, or any other natural or unnatural disaster that crosses our paths. Without acquiring we can’t make up braggadocios stories about ourselves, to keep from being ostracized from the crews with the blinged out facades.<br /><br />There is something to be said for the generations who came before who learned the value of putting away as much cash as they could, and wasting not a bit of anything. If they couldn’t afford something, furniture, Christmas presents, a prom dress, they put the things in lay- away, paid the store bit by bit every week, then when they’d given everything they owed, they got to take the things home. They kept stuff for generations, saw most things could be repaired, until the days of plastics and disposable electronics came to be.<br /><br />In my part of the world, where the cost of mid level gas is pushing 3.50 a gallon, there are many SUV’s. Property taxes doubled or tripled when property values rose, and those whose incomes don’t meet the needs of the out of control increases of necessary expenses find themselves choosing between food and heat, gas and servicing the car. We’re told we’re not in a recession, more like a pause, while disposable income is evaporating into emissions that are thawing glaciers around the planet and the national debt is a number that burrows into infinity.<br /><br />Elders who have already lived through one depression, might have the survival skills to weather a “recession”. They’ve got a year’s worth of toilet paper in the basement, bottle water and canned goods for months, powdered milk, and plenty of matches for the emergency lanterns, and batteries for the flashlights.<br /><br />But these new people, the one’s who believe that the world turns just for them to get what they want, no matter the cost won’t find it so easy. In the scheme of things, those luxuries like, communication devices and 500 channels may fall by the wayside, in preference for real time activities like having conversations, and growing tomatoes, and corn in the neighborhoods where patches of green remain.</span></div>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-43574804383017357372008-01-05T16:29:00.002-05:002009-01-27T23:19:06.308-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLp5ivzsTK7ElmpOOFd5OiD2JWhr5UsEib3U66vA3dfbHqG3iAklJQUteLUXz7zjFXRGNDgpkHiY7w6516ln9v0dHra0X-F0z9HPaDfKdUmVukqo8GbFqzp48lZre03fPrLQm4/s1600-h/002_23A_2.jpg"><img style="width: 688px; height: 455px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLp5ivzsTK7ElmpOOFd5OiD2JWhr5UsEib3U66vA3dfbHqG3iAklJQUteLUXz7zjFXRGNDgpkHiY7w6516ln9v0dHra0X-F0z9HPaDfKdUmVukqo8GbFqzp48lZre03fPrLQm4/s400/002_23A_2.jpg" border="0" /></a><div style="clear: both;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-22998222371472862562007-07-30T13:41:00.000-05:002007-09-02T15:44:23.158-05:00Little Patuxent Review seeking submissions for 3rd Issue<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyl7dfo9H8O7sp6aNsGA1jo4cI1WOUrefzCVPHhr7SePixAArNdcJPJrZLzSCGnBShVLX6bzB8wDgB8S-SrD5-KpNOh1IZkhDxqH8hJq4ENyNaGojEalDEpKjU9xEzXJ_dwqbY/s1600-h/scan0008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093052898798871106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px" height="320" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyl7dfo9H8O7sp6aNsGA1jo4cI1WOUrefzCVPHhr7SePixAArNdcJPJrZLzSCGnBShVLX6bzB8wDgB8S-SrD5-KpNOh1IZkhDxqH8hJq4ENyNaGojEalDEpKjU9xEzXJ_dwqbY/s320/scan0008.jpg" width="208" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#6600cc;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#6600cc;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#6600cc;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#6600cc;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#6600cc;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;">Greetings Readers and Writers,<br /><br />Columbia Maryland, the planned community founded by James Rouse, celebrated its 40th birthday in June of 2007. In honor of that milestone, The Little Patuxent Review, a bi-annual arts anthology published submissions of poetry, prose and history for its second issue themed "Columbia at 40." Release events were held at Oliver’s Carriage House in Columbia Maryland home of the Kittamaqundi Community Church and at the Glenwood Recreational Center Maryland as part of the Columbia Festival of the Arts. </span></div><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;">Contributors to the literary magazine, such as Barbara Kellner of the Columbia Archives and Padraic Kennedy former head of Howard Research and Development along with other long time Columbia residents, held a conversation about the dream of Columbia-where citizens of any color could be neighbors and eventually friends, while in the rest of the country racism and segregation prevailed. Guest poets reading included Clarinda Harriss, Ernie Wormwood, Salimah Perkins and Ryan Wilson . </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;">Paintings by Trudy Babchak and Liz Henzey, and Silkscreens by Wes Yamaka were displayed. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;">The review features:<br />• Essays by Michael Chabon, Pat Kennedy, Sherman Howell, Jean W. Toomer, Barbara Russell, Murray Simon, Mike Clark, Joetta Cramm, Barbara Kellner, Linda Joy Burke, Diane Brown and Katie George.<br />• Art by Wes Yamaka and the collaborative paintings of Trudy Babchak and Liz Henzey, along with an interview of Mr. Yamaka by Linda Joy Burke and a profile of Ms. Babchak and Ms. Henzey by Susan Thornton Hobby along with work by Michael Bracco and a profile by LPR Editor Michael Clark.<br />• Poetry by Clarinda Harriss, Norah Burns, Ralph Treitel, Ernie Wormwood and Patricia Jakovich VanAmburg,Salimah Perkins, Sara Markiewcz.<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;">Chabon, grew up in Columbia, and won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 2001. He writes: “In the end, for all its promise and ambition, Columbia may have changed nothing but one little kid. Yet I believe that my parents' decision to move us into the midst of that unfinished, ongoing act of architectural and social imagination, altered the course of my life and made me into the writer that I am.”</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;">The upcoming themes for fall and late spring issues of LPR are Childhood and Nature.</span></div><div><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#993300;"><strong>Guidelines</strong>: </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#993300;"><br />All material should be typed. Prose submissions no longer than 3000 words, poetry no more than 5 poems. There are no style restrictions on poetry. Anecdotes limited to 250 words should reflect the impact of Columbia on the writer and illustrate some meaning for the reader. Seniors are invited to submit essays no longer than 1000 words on “elder wisdom.” What do you want to pass on to the younger generations?<br /><br />Visual Artists are invited to submit up to 6 images for consideration. Images can be submitted via email (see information below) or snail mail on disk, and should be in jpeg format no larger than 300 DPI. Please put the name of your work on file attachment.<br /><br />Submissions from current and former residents of Columbia and those touched by their experience of Columbia are encouraged to submit. Please include a short bio, and your contact information on a cover letter with your submission.<br /><br />Please send submissions by October 1, 2007 as an email attachment with the words The Little Patuxent Review submission in the subject line to:</span></span><a href="mailto:editor@littlepatuxentreview.org"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;">editor@littlepatuxentreview.org</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"> or by snail mail, c/o <em>Little Patuxent Review</em>, 6012 Jamina Downs, Columbia, MD 21045. Submissions sent by snail mail will need to submit work on disk or via email if accepted for publication. Please include an SASE for return of your manuscript if you are sending it by snail mail. Published authors will receive one copy of the <em>Review</em> in payment.<br /><br /><strong>About <em>The Little Patuxent Review</em><br /></strong><br />The Little Patuxent Review originally existed in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s and featured work by emerging and established writers from the Howard County Maryland region. Recent attendees of a Howard County Poetry and Literary Society event, “Speaking of Healing,” were inspired to meet and discuss launching an arts publication reminiscent of the original <em>The Little Patuxent Review</em>. That meeting evolved into a full-fledged plan to establish the resurrected magazine. This publication is a 501c3 literary arts organization.<br /><br /><strong>Mission</strong><br /><br />The Mission of the <em>The Little Patuxent Review</em> is to promote the tradition of written and visual arts by creating a spirited magazine that reflects and draws upon the creativity and diversity within Howard County and the region.</span></div>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-25699228843371030182007-07-30T13:31:00.000-05:002007-09-02T15:40:05.117-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnDILw8dkKFv7N00e8UfosGSwjJMaLOBKz8pMX5lb0Tro6tdRlMnjGMt48tX6tniNUufkijRMjpA4oUvU3k2sd7yzMJOMx3YNwU7Xf2Q2y-3yVdtLqS64t_tQzg2ieLZ24P8x/s1600-h/Cover+Mom..Let%27s+Talk.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093061226740458066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnDILw8dkKFv7N00e8UfosGSwjJMaLOBKz8pMX5lb0Tro6tdRlMnjGMt48tX6tniNUufkijRMjpA4oUvU3k2sd7yzMJOMx3YNwU7Xf2Q2y-3yVdtLqS64t_tQzg2ieLZ24P8x/s320/Cover+Mom..Let%27s+Talk.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#660000;"><strong>Mom...Let's Talk</strong> an Editorial Project</span> </div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;">Editor’s Note: It was my privilege to get to know Robert Schaeberle through his poetry and through his mom’s cathartic memoir. Each writer’s work represents a heroic quest for peace and sanctuary, made by individuals who will remind you of someone you know. “Mom” is every mom who is or has been the foundation from which family thrives. Jeanne’s ruminations on a religious upbringing, and the challenges she faced as a teenager and later a parent, juxtaposed against Robert’s poems, bring his poetry into focus. The poems reveal a boy’s life initially filled with wonder and gentleness, which was invaded by the awful mental dragons of terror and desperation. These poems are Robert’s sword of battle, forged in the fire of hope. His hope was born from the strong bonds of love between mother, son, and family, along with a deep faith in the power of God and His angels. It is ironic that Robert’s heart failed him at 25, because his heart also drove him to be the best he knew how to be, in spite of his mental turmoil. “Mom...Let’s Talk” is for young people who are slaying their own dragons and wondering if they can triumph. This book is also for parents, guardians, teachers, and others who care about or work with artistic kids, especially poets and writers who struggle with remaining whole in a fractured world. Linda Joy Burke Poet and Writer<br /><br /></span><a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/392992"></a><br /><a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/392992">Mom...Let's Talk</a> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;">What does a first-born son do when he hears voices? One child may disconnect from family, drift into antisocial behavior and eventually violence. Another may take to the pen, paint, play music, or find an art form where they can expel the noise. This book is about the life and eventual death of one such son. The story is told through his outlet, poetry and his mom's soul searching and eventually cathartic memoir. Fred Eustis writes in his introduction, "Poetry was a sword he used to defend himself against the voices..." Jeanne's memoir puts these poems which at times are quite unsettling, in a family context. She is every mom, who is doing the best they can for their offspring, and on a very profound level, this is every family's story. "The book is also about sharing; learning how to know each other and how to find our own selves in that knowing. It is like a quest in which Jeanne and Robert explore who they are, what they came here for, and what really matters." Fred Eustis.<br />Print: $16.95</span>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-4582688844566017202007-06-30T13:46:00.000-05:002007-12-16T11:02:01.831-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj04lkMZL7gLM7qYTW1vlihFg-et2A7hmnvc3RXaJIUZPpdw__sEqgRUveuGa2zVmwSq6OWc1IPOZP6_rTy1p8HcgmXjSmWUeVbfsg7WIsNI_oxOnEIMZqnj-9T1Qz0HncT44Su/s1600-h/Cover+Conversing+With+Dragons.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093063468713386594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj04lkMZL7gLM7qYTW1vlihFg-et2A7hmnvc3RXaJIUZPpdw__sEqgRUveuGa2zVmwSq6OWc1IPOZP6_rTy1p8HcgmXjSmWUeVbfsg7WIsNI_oxOnEIMZqnj-9T1Qz0HncT44Su/s320/Cover+Conversing+With+Dragons.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Conversing with Dragons: A Celebration of Life and Art by Robyn Weiss</strong><br /></span></span><a href="http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/author.asp?author_id=138347&penname=Robyn++Weiss"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Robyn Weiss</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;">Compiled and edited by: Linda Joy Burke and Jacki Edens<br />Our price: $15.95 Format: Paperback Size: 6 x 9Pages:<br /></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;">162ISBN: 0-595-28743-3</span> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#330000;"></span></div><div></div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#330000;">Published: Jul-2003<br />Other Formats:</span> </span><a href="http://www.iuniverse.com/bookstore/book_detail.asp?isbn=0-595-65844-X"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Hard Cover</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /></span><a href="https://digitalid.verisign.com/as2/1a62cf5e2cf93178dfb5d5a02d5e1241" target="_blank"></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#330000;">International orders:Call 00-1-402-323-7800<br /></span>“</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#330000;">Our literary community is lucky to have had Robyn join in the ancient efforts to speak into infinity.”—BDC<br />Book Description<br />“When I read her manuscript for the first time, I was unprepared for the concrete images: the sap from a tapped maple, the houses and butterflies and rooms she shows us. I didn't expect mature observances from someone so young. Robyn is engaged in the world through these poems. In the clever parody of Poe, in her imagined banter at a men's shelter, and other narrative poems, we find her examining, critiquing, exploring the world, the people in it, and her relationship to it. We find her taking on characters in persona poems where she molds her voice into those of husbands, wives, laborers, and vagabonds. She resists the common urge of young writers to shut out the world and look only inward for voice…” Barbara DeCesare Poet and Writer author Jigsaw EyeSore “Robyn’s writings give us a portal into the mind of a teen confronted with life and her views of the ever-widening world around her.” Jacki Edens</span><br /></span><a href="http://www.iuniverse.com/lookinside/LookInside.jsp?isbn=0595287433"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Browse Before You Buy</span></a></div><div></div><div>Your purchase of this book supports "Room to Read" <a href="http://www.roomtoread.org/">http://www.roomtoread.org</a>.</div><div>"<span style="font-family:lucida grande;">World Change Starts with Educated Children</span>"</div>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-1165537431062159392006-12-07T19:11:00.003-05:002009-01-28T00:05:58.871-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDOL3LvNQN8maGZaxe-_LzcLVeagZ6CpcrbawPWfStnpslfUT_jxHU1WBeDSnFEOGhLObTHHAhCGhcK5FQPEifCyS-oJTG1CYo49242-lJO9kHYqo3Mr3ArJqfJIoHUN-EVeE/s1600-h/j0422243.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 247px; height: 370px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtDOL3LvNQN8maGZaxe-_LzcLVeagZ6CpcrbawPWfStnpslfUT_jxHU1WBeDSnFEOGhLObTHHAhCGhcK5FQPEifCyS-oJTG1CYo49242-lJO9kHYqo3Mr3ArJqfJIoHUN-EVeE/s320/j0422243.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296204711472827506" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Remembering War</span><br /> <span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><br />a memorial day televised ceremony </span></span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" ><br />of the last generation to have fought<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" >in an un-televised war</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" ><br />four score and four years</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" > and older<br />frail souls immersed </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" >in visions<br />of an invincible</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" > Pearl Harbor Armada</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" ><br />and eager young sailor boys exploding<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" >memories that seldom sleep<br /></span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" >under their sagging skins</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" ><br />cause the rain to fall<br /></span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" >from their bony salutes</span><br /> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" ><br />they are solemn and weary<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" >proud and disheartened</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" >their love of country</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" ><br />a badge and a burden</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" ><br /> to take to their graves.</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;" ><br /> <br /> In the distance a solo trumpet wails.</span> <span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><br /><br />Linda Joy Burke - All Rights Reserved By Author</span>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32303187.post-1159594541783430672006-09-29T23:43:00.000-05:002007-09-02T15:37:08.576-05:00Suspicion Moves In<span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">It is well after midnight</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">most of the neighbors have </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">turned out their lights</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">the moon is cresting </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">undisturbed in the chill</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">men are banging </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">on the guy's door </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">who lives on the first floor </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">they say they don't want </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">to mess </span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">with anyone</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">just want him to </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">come outside </span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">and talk</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">one says, "I stay upstairs </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">with my wife and kid"</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">says, "someone's been messing </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">around with them"</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">says, "I can hear you all </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">whispering behind the door</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">the banging crescendos </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">to a menacing pitch</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">the chill in the night air</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;"> glistens on the window pane</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;"> straining to not </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">give themselves away </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">they coax the woman</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;"> to crack open the door</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">accusations and fists erupt.</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">stunned we wonder </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">who to believe?</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#330000;">who to blame?</span><br /><span style="color:#993300;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Police come and go</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">the couple argues till dawn</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">suspicion moves in.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">All Rights Reserved by Author</span><br /><span style="color:#993300;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#993300;"></span>Linda Joy Burkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160819962439340546noreply@blogger.com0