Cartoon – Moms
Author: Antarctica Journal
Cartoon – GMO Talk
Deaf quadriplegic types with his eyes
A California quadriplegic has built up an 8,000-strong Twitter following for his warm and witty observations, written using a special computer that reads his eye movements. David Rose, 24, is deaf and unable to move his body, but communicates with friends and followers online using an eye-gaze computer. “I want make people laugh, I want tell people life worth living […]
Read moreI’ll Keep Going Until My Heart Stops
“I’ll Keep Going Until My Heart Stops”
Read moreCartoon – Stuck In The Friend Zone
Poem – Hero or Zero (By Ray Gallucci)
HERO OR ZERO? To die on the battlefield leading a charge, Your body upon a shield, burned in a barge – An image heroic of Viking portrayal Approvingly stoic, quite worthy of hail. The fireman rushing pall-mall into blaze As on 9-11, the last of his days. No body recovered from building’s collapse. Just wife, children, mother to […]
Read morePoem – Sylvia’s Son (By Layla Lenhardt)
Sylvia’s Son I was wrapped in a towel like a bad dream, wet feet on linoleum. I was too preoccupied to see the cracked blood, to hear the silence until I was knee- deep in your tomb. Sometimes, I dreamt you were a baby being born, waking to a pain that was not yours, a motherhood I never had. It […]
Read moreAbraham Lincoln Quote – I Have Been Driven To My Knees
“I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go.” – Abraham Lincoln
Read moreSocial media: Now, even babies tweet
“Harper Estelle Wolfeld-Gosk has 6,282 Twitter followers,” said Joe Coscarelli in NYMag.com. “She’s 2 weeks old.” The infant daughter of Today show correspondent Jenna Wolfe is just one of thousands of kids who have Twitter accounts that are written in their voices but are “set up, maintained, and authored by parents.” Here’s a sample of little Harper’s tweets: “Pooped AND […]
Read morePoem – Early Morning, Tucson Foothills (By Lee Marc Stein)
Early Morning, Tucson Foothills Shadows jag over rock and cactus playing tag with the rising sun, nature’s Rorschach asking me what these immense ink blots mean. This one’s the boogeyman scaring/scarring my daughter, that one’s a tarp smothering moist green fields of my youth, the one crest high a black stallion galloping away with loved ones’ years. […]
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