Stuck on a Song

Jawbreaking, aching, stunning poetry set to music.

Do you get stuck on a song? I do, and I love it.

“My lover’s got humour

She’s the giggle at a funeral
Knows everybody’s disapproval
I should’ve worshipped her sooner

If the heavens ever did speak
She’s the last true mouthpiece
Every Sunday’s getting more bleak
A fresh poison each week

‘We were born sick, ‘ you heard them say it

My Church offers no absolutes
She tells me, ‘Worship in the bedroom.’
The only heaven I’ll be sent to
Is when I’m alone with you—

I was born sick,
But I love it
Command me to be well
Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen”- partial lyrics -HOZIER

A Perfectly Fine By Me Banner Year

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The “Landscape is Vast.”

…and all that crap. It seems we get to the end of the year, take stock and make false niceties. I won’t bore you with the details of my year, it was average. I have come to the conclusion I am not fabulous, have no super powers and the magic of Christmas flew out a crack in an open window ages ago. And that, is perfectly fine by me. Much to my chagrin, I climb the four flights of stairs to the attic more times than I can count, open the secret partition and drag down the minimum, outdated necessary decor; a worn, white feather wreath, forty-year old, beat up Santa doll waving and smiling, reindeer ornament strung by his neck floating in free fall (did that on purpose for my own entertainment). Yeah I cave for someone else, not for me. Maybe I learned a little kindness, tolerance this banner year. Who can say? Maybe, just maybe I’m stuck between tradition and the open road. One thing I know, karma is a nasty bitch. Best be cheery, fake it even when you don’t feel like it. The Zen room remains free and clear of red, white and green. Happy Holidays y’all, whichever road your traveling down.

The Vast Landscape Cali Book Tour

The Vast Landscape 

Going Back To Cali  Book Tour 

“…go on a journey with the character, so much so that you reach a certain point and it’s almost impossible to set down…”

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Vino Volo Libro #TheVastLandscape #CaliBound  #BookTour #ZenLIfe
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DULLES #Ontheshelves #JOLIEvibe
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Cool chicks Happy Readers Airport cheer
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Holiday Travel Great Book

“Trust, doubt, love, and the rawness of life wrapped into one story that leaves you questioning your very core.”

The eagle has landed.
The eagle has landed.

The Chopra Center Self awareness, body, mind and spirit, meditation,  restoration. Reconnect.

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“Nothing is more important than reconnecting with your bliss. Nothing is as rich. Nothing is more real.”

Deepak Chopra

“The world of Harry is equally painful and beautiful and you can’t help but fall in love with her brashness and vulnerability.”

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Reading an Amazing book, hanging with Deepak – Omni La Costa Spa and Resort
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Follow your bliss ‪#‎TheVastLandscape‬ ‪#‎Ayurveda‬ ‪#‎Chopra‬ Massage and an awesome read at the same time…
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I am woman. Hear me ROAR. #embracethepretty #TheVastLandscape Read it. Own it. Love it…
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Rad. Righteous. Ride the Wave. ‪ #‎TheVastLandscape‬ ‪#‎Encinitas

“The world Cioffa created is realistic and easy to connect with. I laughed as much as I cried as the story whipped around me.”

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Never.Quit.Your.Dreams. #TheVastLandscape #Encinitas

When Dreaming of a Beach…

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…one must be more specific

There is beauty in ice sculptures, black leaves, sand granules and zebra mussel shells

Someone carved a number into the willow

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I wonder what it meant and how long it’s become piece of the bark

Are they dead and buried, the secret etched inside the tree’s history?

I cannot say

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I had not seen before

The biting winter air keeps me alert, alive noticing the minute details

I slow my pace, paying no attention to time and space, focusing on the grays above

and the black ripples before me

When dreaming of a beach one must specify the horizon

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#ICan’tBreathe. Apologies. Opinion. From A Cop’s Daughter.

I am not going to talk politics, racism, society or even equality.

One, because I do not hold a master’s in Political Science, History or Criminal Justice.

I’m not even going to presume I know how to ‘fix’ this country or how far we have gone off track.

I’m going to stick with emotion, respect, courtesy, honor and humility.

The morally conscience way in which I was brought up.

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My father was a detective. He was the kindest, coolest, non-judgmental, honorable man I knew.

I loved running down the halls of the police station, the way it smelled, the dirty desks, the smiling faces dressed in blue who would greet me. I loved how safe, alive and happy I felt.

The sense of pride a five-year old has for her own personal superhero was overwhelming.

Black was not black in his eyes.

Any kid could get in trouble, petty stuff nothing major.

My father would not arrest him, beat him down, he would speak calmly to him with respect.

He had a likable way about him.

My dad would then go out and hit up the local merchants and raise money to send that troubled boy to basketball camp.

Yes, basketball camp and we were not rich, barely middle class.

How can I ever hate the cops when I have such a compassionate, shining example of him, seeing the human being first. The unfortunate youth who perhaps did not have guidance in his own home.

There would not be one kid he’d help, there would be hundreds who’s lives he would change.

Grown men, black, latino, white would turn up at my mother’s door teary eyed, “your husband gave me a shot, he saved my life.”

Respect. It’s so simple and sorely missing.

I’d grow up and move away from the shelter of a small town and the safety of my father the cop’s strong, compassionate, gentle ways.

When I moved to Harlem I honored the lessons and tried to be colorblind like he taught me.

The night Obama won the election I sobbed in the streets of 125, my heart bursting with pride.

I dragged my brother out catching him brush a tear away. I danced and watched a glorious, wise, well-lived grandmother cry with a child cradled in her arms.

Yes, she was African-American. I tried to comprehend how this stunning, victorious moment felt for her. I’m sure I couldn’t even come close to understanding the depths of emotion.

I looked in that beautiful woman’s chestnut eyes and for one glorious second we were connected.

It was a moment I might not have known without my father’s clear, honorable intentions.

There is no justice in a mother’s child being shot 9 times, or a father and husband of six children dying from a choke hold.

There is no sense, no Master’s Degree that can explain away the horrors.

Those police are certainly not the ones I know, I do not see my father’s reassuring manner in them.

No, no, no.

What is happening? What is happening to morals, values? How did things go so inexplicably wrong?

I partially blame the media, the goddamn violent video games and the ugly, greedy fast times we live in.

I loved a cop, I’m not apologizing.

He taught me right from wrong.

I’m apologizing to the families of Michael Brown and Eric Garner.

My father the colorblind gentleman, well-loved and respected cop would be deeply sorry.

He’d try to fix it.

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” Dr. Martin Luther King

Start a Conversation.

Breaking the Internet

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“We will tweet your book 60 times a day, to our 435,000+ followers across 5 accounts (@eBooksHabit, @eBooksWeLove, @TheBookTweeters, @eBooktweeters, @eBookPriceDrop)”

The Vast Landscape is blowing up Twitter.

Breaking the internet, yes indeed.

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In the uplifting Twitterverse words of Pastor Gloria Boyce,

“Be not afraid success is your birthright!”

Bless you, Pastor. I believe.

That may very well be my favorite tweet thus far, and the 435,000+ readers out there itching for a rich, fantastic, can’t put it down book.

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beauty with purpose
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Twittersphere.