Monday, November 30, 2015

Wake up and live


I can't see my way around
the dark veil of depression
increasingly squeezing in on my life.
Even medications are not enough to control the suffocating blackness.
Occasionally, tiny specks of happiness are sprinkled through my life,
like bits of candy canes in peppermint ice cream -
sharp, but sweet, lessening the edge of torment.
I've live half my life, so why don't I feel better about myself?
Why does this torture continue,
causing nothing by hopelessness and pain?
Life is too short to live in misery and despair.
I've got to wake up and smell the fresh,
tantalizing fragrance of my family,
my life -
I must wake up and live.

Monday, November 23, 2015


(This photo is copyright of Dan Felstead. Although it doesn't exactly match the tone of the poem, the color are breathtaking. The "...great estate of an enormous heart..." could be the Church - use your own interpretation.)


Night clouds hang over the fast approaching dawn,
still holding the dark captive, under the light of the moon.
Twin evils revel a danger with the largest house,
the great estate of an enormous heart,
feeling trapped, a prisoner,
like a women from the dead, come to life,
but seeking the warmth and life from the living.
The light from the moon continues to gleam in the night mist
and it is here an imaginable paranoia intrudes;
time for the woman to follow a new destiny.
It is a strange and disturbing time,
trapped, chained,
unable to follow the different fates or
to what will happen from one life to the other.
Her secrets are now in danger,
no longer able to penetrate the disguise,
unaware of the dangers.
The night continues toward lighter hours,
ancient knowledge,
multiple mysteries,
warping the bands of time to cross the plain,
leaving behind the troubled curse weighing heavy on her mind.
The sun rises blood red at dawn
hanging almost frightful over the countryside.
And even as the dark passes, the mysteries remain
the web has been spun with terror and mystery
as the fissures continue to expand into ever-deepening whispers.

Saturday, November 21, 2015



I want time to blow the fluff from a dandelion.
I want time to blow a bubble that sparkles like a rainbow
as it bounces on the breeze.
I need the time to see how many licks it takes
to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.
Give me time to smell the roses and lilacs, the herbs and wildflowers.
Give me time to taste a fresh, juicy peach, the perfect tomato from the vine -
Rocky Road ice cream.
Time to feel my lovers arms around me;
time to nuzzle with my precious Grandchildren;
time to tell my girls "I love you."
I want to hear the serenade of frogs on a hot summer night,
time to hear the red-tailed hawk calling to his mate.
I need time to see the beauty of nature,
be it God, Goddess or Spirit - thank you.
Thank you for the time you've given me on this earth;
and if it is in your power, allow me to remain just a little longer.

Friday, November 20, 2015

The Night Has Ended

(This is another poem inspired by a photo by Dan Felstead)


Frightening sight, an apparition from the past,
even by day can be immensely dangerous place,
with many unsolved mysteries and grave danger.
Determined to seek out the truth,
a secret from the past
which can force things once thought long gone,
thus could make things happen even though we have
difficult decision to decide our path of existence.
Streaks of red, the color of blood, mix with rain the color of the sky
Chase away the sunset, bringing forth the dawn,
but it is like the day would end up with a horrible death
even though the shimmering reflection offers the peace of day,
the sunset usually offers
a raging night could end with a horrible death.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Happy birthday, Sis

Today would have been my baby sister's 50th birthday. Her death in 2005 at the age of 39, has left a hole in my heart that is very slow in mending.

Although my sister and I had our ups and downs like every other sibling, during the last few years of her life we had grown especially close. She was not only my sister, she was my friend.

So, on this day of sadness when we should be celebrating, I am trying to remember the good times we spent together:

--Watching The Dark Side of the Rainbow

--Playing Ozzie Osbourne loud enough to vibrate the entire house

--Taking long rides in the country just to see the sights

--Giggling until our sides hurt

--Watching every vampire movie we could get our hands on

--Christmas shopping together

--Spending hours just talking about our lives and our future plans

I miss you, are in my thoughts daily.

Amy Carter Sallee
November 19, 1965 - January 11, 2005 

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Dragonfly Ballet


Dragonfly chasing a butterfly -
swooping above the scorching parking lot.
A delicate ballet - rapid fire of blue translucent wings
and the chunky, slowness of yellow ones.

Gusts of wind send a discarded bottle cap on a
jaunt across the black asphalt,
catching and dropping into each cervice and dip.

Hot, warm breeze on a mid-August day -
how sweet it is.

Happy Birthday my angel, Amy

.Although my sister, Amy, is always on my mind, the month of November is especially hard because it is her birth month. Our last trip together was six weeks before her death. Amy would have been 50 years old on November 19th - love ya, Sis ...

Last Trip With Amy

Pigeon Forge, Tennessee
On top of Serenity Mountain
Arts and Crafts Community
Eating candy in the Village
Elkhorn Plaza and the Best Italian Restaurant
Keith and Theodore E. Teddy
Car acting up – the alternator went out
Waiting for Joey the mechanic to fix us up
Christmas lights through Gatlinburg
Getting home – watching Almost Famous
Jacuzzi soaks and double-headed showers
Chit chats on the wrap around deck
Sleeping with abandon,
Until heading home again

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Old Memories

(Photo by Dan Felstead)


Ancient in years, but still holding onto
the special charm making it beautiful.
Windows need replacing and probably casings, too,
but the bricks and stone continue to hold
the mortar used to make this antique house
stand on firm ground.
And although most people do not like the green moss
making its home on the stone steps and up to the porch.
Number one, green is my favorite color, and two, the
moss is furry and soft
makes a natural pillow to give a decent night's sleep.
I've no idea who owns this home, but I can take it on
faith that no one lives here,
unless it is someone like me.

Monday, November 16, 2015

You just may be a lunatic

(Photo/artwork by Fiction's Fool)

"You may be right, I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for"

A lunatic ... like the people who used to get locked up in asylums and sometimes tied to their beds?

No thanks ... I want my lunatic to be fearless and funny, kinda like walking across the top of a fully running dam, while acting like you're about to fall.

I want my lunatic to take me to scary movies and not laugh at me when I have to cover my head - especially when clowns are involved.

“Turn out the light, don't try to save me"

I want my lunatic knight in shining armor to come to my rescue when I'm in trouble or just feeling down. So yes, I'll save you, if you save me.

“Don't try to fake it"

I like my lunatic the way he is and I don't want him to change, but I'm afraid I'll change again, so I want him to be adaptable to my strange moods.

... But as the saying goes ...

“You may be wrong, for all I know, you may be right"

**Song lyrics by Billy Joel**

Friday, November 13, 2015

Grocery Store

Grocery Store

Cars pull in the lot
parking willy nilly;
people of all gender and race
size and color, too.

The breeze picks up
pulling the heat
from the oil-stained asphalt
between the yellow lines.

Two gallons of milk;
paper, plastic or cloth,
environmentally conscious
or people caring less.

We are the way,
the how, the where,
the why, the when,
the what the fuck.

Power makes the world go ‘round
Power is what gets ahold of you
and never lets you go.

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Rain Clouds

Photo copyright Keith Rightmyer

Rain Clouds

Clouds are bubbling up
although a sliver of sun still shines;
will the rain come again,
or will the clouds blow away?

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Why are we here

Why is it that the older I get, the more I question the meaning of life? I was raised a Christian and I believe in and have accepted Jesus as my savior. I have raised three daughters in a Baptist environment and my husband also comes from the same background. My faith in God continues to grow daily, but along with this growth have come a few questions. Why are we here? For what purpose are we humans in this world? What is heaven really like?

For the past 30 years, my life has consisted of work and raising a family. I sacrificed through three years of nursing school to become a Registered Nurse, knowing this career would allow me to provide for my children. I worked almost thirteen years as a labor and delivery nurse; twelve hour night shifts, three to four days a week. The first few years were exciting and I enjoyed providing for my family, but when my youngest - Christine- was a baby, I felt like I was missing out on the best part of life; I had already missed so much of my older two daughters' lives. As Christine grew up, my discontentment with working grew. Was my job worth missing the formative years of my last child?

No matter how much I missed being at home with Christine, our family had become trapped within a vicious money cycle and I felt compelled to continue working. When Christine was nine, I finally left night shift and the high risk area OBGYN. The problem now was that I was working with the extended care patients; I would become attached to my patients and then they would die. No matter how much I enjoyed talking with and working with my patients, the overwhelming depression surrounding this type of work continued to grow. After the death of my sister in 2005, I realized I couldn’t pretend to be happy any more.

I had to make my family a priority again. These were the people I was working so hard for, but it didn’t matter how much I worked if it continued to keep me away from my family. I took several months off work to get my life back in order and to reconnect with my family. We have downsized our style of living and reprioritized the goals for our future. I have never been so happy.

Of course, you solve one problem and another one will present itself.This year I again started questioning the reason for our existence. What does God really want from us? I feel like He is looking down on Earth as a whole and He is very sad because of the segregation and lack of humanity all around us. Why is America the wealthiest country in the world, but the people of Africa are dying and starving in droves? Why didn’t the US use the money it spent on the Iraq war to make food drops and provide medication for all those who suffer?

Why doesn’t the United States provide for the homeless in our own country? Why do so many American children live below the poverty level if we are the supposed richest country? Why are we trying to keep Mexican immigrants out of our country when we are a country founded on immigrants? With the exception of the Native Americans, none of us would be here if it were not for immigration.

We come from the wealthiest nation in the world, but there are so many people suffering in the United States. Our government representatives need to be more concerned with the people instead of being dictated by big business. It is a shame that lobbiest are the people who are really controlling our nation instead of the middle class, blue collar workers. It is a shame pro-sports players make million of dollars per year, but police, firemen, and other first responders are barely scraping by. It is a shame Hollywood and media entertainers make millions of dollars per year, but school teachers have to count every penny.

I know we are not supposed to question God's plan, but hink about it: why are we here?

© Bobbi Rightmyer

Saturday, November 7, 2015

Lovin' the Pokeberries

Right now, Pokeberries are ripening all over the Bluegrass. I love the deep purple color in the fall landscape. Below are two projects you can attempt with Pokeberries.

Pokeberry Ink and Dye
*Just a reminder: Pokeberry leaves, berries and roots are highly toxic. DO NOT let children experiment with these recipes. Always wear gloves and protective clothing when working with Pokeberries.*

Pokeberry Ink:
Version #1: Pick ripe pokeberries and crush them in a bowl using a potato masher. Pick out the skins before straining the juice. Careful of the juice stains. Thicken them with gum arabic (available in health food stores) if they seem too thin.

Version #2: This is more of a recipe and is the one I have used.
• ½ cup Ripe Pokeberries
• ½ Tsp. Vinegar
• ½ Tsp. Salt
Fill a strainer with the berries and hold it over a bowl. Using a wooden spoon, crush the berries against the strainer so that the berry juice strains into the bowl. Keep adding berries until most of their juice has been strained out and only pulp remains. Add the salt and vinegar to the berry juice. The vinegar helps the ink retain its color and the salt keeps it from getting too moldy. If the berry ink is too thick, add a tablespoon of water. Store in a baby food jar. Only make a small amount of berry ink at a time and, when not in use, keep it tightly covered.
(I've also seen recipes that used ammonia as the fixative, but I've never tried this.)

To prepare Pokeberry dye for wool:
• 2 to 3 gallons of ripe pokeberries
• ½ gallon of white vinegar
• Enough water to cover berries
Boil the pokeberries, vinegar and water gently for 30 minutes.
Strain the berries through a fine sieve or cheesecloth. To dye wool, add to the dye extract the vinegar water in which the wool was mordanted (fixes the color) and enough clear water to make a 4 gallon dye bath.
Put one pound of handspun wet wool into a lukewarm pokeberry dye bath immediately after mordanting; let soak for half an hour or more until the desired color of lavender to red is reached. Keep the wool pressed under the water.
Press the water from the dyed wool and hang to dry without rinsing to further set the color.
After a few days rinse the wool and dry again.

Friday, November 6, 2015


Today is my momma's birthday and I miss her so much. I wrote this three years ago and I am reprinting it in her remembrance.

I picked up the phone today to call my Momma,
before I realized there was no way to talk with her.
Why do I do things like this?
Why do I hear the wind chimes and
feel like my sister is right outside the door?

Grief and despair are sliding in again
like the slug of mud rolling down
the scalped mountains of Appalachia.

Will this pain never end? Or am
I left with these holes in my heart
never to be healed again? I know
time is supposed to heal all wounds,
but these wounds still gape and weep.

Occasionally, a ray of sunshine and
will enter, blowing cool hope and
wetting your mouth like an orange creamsicle.

Then like the tinkle of the wind chimes
or the rippling of a cool forest stream,
the feelings slowly ooze away, only
leaving hints of an unexpected return.

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Pink Floyd's The Wall

“The Wall” is a rock-n-roll opera presented as a double album by Pink Floyd and it is celebrating its 36th anniversary this month. Released on November 30, 1979 by Columbia Records, it was subsequently performed live, with elaborate theatrical effects. It was also made into a film in 1982. Band members include: Nick Mason, David Gilmour, Roger Waters, and Richard Wright.

Similar to their previous albums, “The Wall” is a concept album dealing with the theme of personal isolation. The concept was inspired by the band's 1977 tour promoting their previous album “Animals”, where Roger Waters' frustration with the audience reached a point where he spat in the face of a fan who was attempting to climb on stage at the Olympic Stadium in July, 1977. Waters would come to regret this, and had lamented that such a wall exists. “The Wall” featured a notably harsher and more theatrical sound than their previous releases.

The rock opera centers on the character, Pink, who is largely based on Waters and his personal life. Pink struggles in life from an early age, having lost his father in World War II ("Another Brick in the Wall (Part 1)"), been abused by teachers ("The Happiest Days of Our Lives"), smothered by an overprotective mother ("Mother"), and deserted by his wife later on ("Don't Leave Me Now") — all of which factored into Pink's isolation from society ("Comfortably Numb"), figuratively referred to as "The Wall".

“The Wall” has sold over 30 million copies worldwide and is the world's best-selling double album of all time. Immensely successful upon release, “The Wall” quickly jumped to #1 on the Billboard 200 in the U.S. in its fourth week. It has achieved 23 times platinum and is Pink Floyd's second best-selling album in the U.S. after “The Dark Side of the Moon.” “Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)" became the band's best-selling single in the U.S. and their only song to hit #1 on the Billboard Hot 100. “The Wall” was also included in the book “1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die.”

“The Wall” is one of my top 10 favorite albums of all time and Pink Floyd is one of my top 5 favorite bands. My husband and I saw them in Rupp Arena during their 1987 tour. The large inflatable pig that also hung above arenas whenever they played, actually was floating inside Rupp. It was very cool!!!