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“Cardinal”

by Anthony Baglio of Port Norris, NJ

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Haddon House Press Winter 2014


Cna Yuo Raed Tihs? by Daniel Scocco

fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too. Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can. i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno’t mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghi t pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!

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Picking Blueberries, Austerlitz, New York, 1957 by Mary Oliver Once, in summer

and flung up her white tail

in the blueberries,

and went floating off toward

I fell asleep, and woke

the trees -

when a deer stumbled against me.

but the moment she did that was so wide and so deep

I guess

it has lasted to this day;

she was so busy with her

I have only to think of her -

own happiness she had grown careless

the flower of her amazement

and was just wandering

and the stalled breath of her

along

curiosity, and even the damp touch of

listening

her solicitude

to the wind as she leaned

before she took flight -

down to lip up the sweetness.

to be absent again from this

So, there we were

world and alive, again, in another

with nothing between us

for thirty years

but a few leaves, and wind’s

sleepy and amazed,

glossy voice shouting instructions.

rising out of the rough weeds listening and looking.

The deer

Beautiful girl,

backed away finally

where are you?

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You. Yes, you. I am writing this for you. I know you are reading this. And I want you to know I am writing this for you. No one else will understand. No one else knows. They think that this is for them. But it’s not. I am writing this for you. I want you to know, life…it’s hard. Every day can be a challenge. It can be a challenge to get up in the morning. To get yourself out of bed. To put on that smile. But I want you to know, that smile is what keeps me going some days. You need to remember, even through the tough times, you are amazing. You really are. You should be happy. You are gorgeous. I know that the weather might not be perfect. You might have to turn your back to the wind or feel the cold nipping at your nose. But you know what, at least you are there to feel it. At least you can enjoy the sun’s warm rays on your face. Or that cold February wind biting at your cheeks. You know what that means? You are alive. Everything will be okay.

http://www.wittyprofiles.com/q/2581903

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To Chris

by Morris Shepherd I give you wheat fields, cotton fields, country roads, swimming holes, front porches, old women, storied poets and dreams. I give you peace, understanding a caring heart, scenic skies, wide spaces and horizons that touch heaven’s door. I give you me but never a field where dreams fester and men die and memories rot and despair reigns and fear thrives and hope dies and hate grows I give you me, my tomorrows, my heart, my soul, my joy but never a field. I give you old dogs, gentle breezes, clear streams lazy days and wisdom and strength and opportunity love and hope and faith and joy I give you me‌ never a field of battle where dreams fester and men die and memories rot and despair reigns and fear thrives and hope dies and hate grows. I give you me


Toilet Paper was First Used by the Chinese Toilet paper was first used by the Chinese about 1300 years before it caught on with the rest of the world. The first references of people using toilet paper dates back to the 6th century AD in the Chinese Imperial courts and amongst the other wealthy citizens of China. This eventually spread throughout China and by the 14th century there was an annual manufacturing of around ten million packages of toilet paper in the Zhejiang province alone. This however, did not catch on with the rest of the world for some time. Indeed, a Muslim traveler to China in the 8th century noted “They (the Chinese) are not careful about cleanliness, and they do not wash themselves with water when they have done their necessities; but they only wipe themselves with paper.” It wouldn’t be until the late 1800s when toilet paper would be introduced in America and England and it wasn’t until the 1900s, around the same time the indoor toilet became common, that toilet paper would catch on with the masses. So what did people use before toilet paper? What was popular depended greatly on region, personal preference, and wealth. Rich people often used hemp, lace, or wool; poor people often would poop in rivers and clean off with water, rags, wood shavings (ouch!), leaves, hay, rocks, sand, moss, sea weed, apple husks, seashells (Demolition Man much?), ferns, and pretty much whatever else was at hand and cheap/free. http://www.todayifoundout.com/index.php/2011/08/toilet-paper-was-firstused-by-the-chinese/

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If there are no dogs in heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went…Will Rogers

DIVINITY.OF.GOODNESS By Christopher Ney, Bridgeton, NJ - August, 2013 As he gently pads beside me, we are a communion of souls, my blessed beast and I. To say that he does not feel is heresy. He shows me the divinity in grass, the flowers, and the air by well tuned nose. The sacred bowl he bows too before he eats, head hung low in prayer The tail pointed endlessly upward to the heavens, the celestial antenna His unconditional love more powerful than abuse and neglect Humbly submitting to belly rubs and the well placed scratch His angelic silence to outspoken private thoughts, Reserving judgments for the mail man and the UPS driver The unspoken obedience to the god of biscuit offerings, toast, and squeaky toys Responding with a litany of howling, hymns so divine only God can hear Looking upon this ethereal being of fur, flopped ear, and wagging tail I am reminded of the wretchedness of us sinners seeking redemption, Awaiting our ascendance to heaven. Only to find familiar angels barking our return

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"THAT'S RIGHT! UNCLE SAM WAS A REAL PERSON" We’ve all seen the pictures and cartoons of Uncle Sam. I can still remember as a kid seeing the army recruiting posters with that picture of Uncle Sam, all dressed in his coat and bow tie and that tall hat, with colors of red, white, and blue. Standing there pointing his finger and saying, "I want you for the U.S. Army". Now, it was in the 1950’s when the U.S. officially adopted the figure of Uncle Sam as one of our national emblems, but, interestingly enough, he had already stood as a symbol of the American people for over 150 years. But what most people today don’t know is that the idea of an "Uncle Sam" is actually based on a real person named Sam Wilson. Sam Wilson was a meat packer in the early 1800’S who supplied our American troops food during the War of 1812. The meat was shipped to the troops in large barrels stamped "U.S.". When someone was asked what those initials stood for, one of the workers said it stood for "Uncle Sam" - and the name just stuck. The soldiers began to refer to the meat as "Uncle Sam’s Meat"; they referred to themselves as "Uncle Sam’s Army"; and, finally, they claimed they were fighting for Uncle Sam. But, just how did Uncle Sam come to look the way he does in pictures and drawings today? The first drawings of Uncle Sam were done in the 1830’S. These drawing showed him to be a tall, skinny character with chin whiskers and wearing a top hat. This vision of Uncle Sam was reinforced during the Civil War when cartoonists actually made him look a lot like Abraham Lincoln, who was also tall, and thin, and wore a top hat? How about that? Uncle Sam was a real person! Jerry Stewart - Vision Productions

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"A Mother's Memories" by Karen A. Fazzolari, Vineland, NJ Traces of sand from trips to the shore…… Hidden in shoes worn by little feet that are little no more…. Colored drawings treasured the years through…… Created by young hands that were long ago new……. A mother's memories never completely hidden away…… but carried with her day into day…..

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Luciano Pavarotti (1935–2007)

ANECDOTE... Once I had a meeting with him (Pavarotti), in New York City, in his penthouse. All of a sudden in the middle of the meeting, a young German soprano singer showed up and she was accompanied by a gentleman. Luciano said to me, "Oh, I'm sorry. I have to interrupt this meeting with you because I forgot that I promised to audition her for the Luciano Pavarotti International Competition." So he asked her, pointing to the young man: "is he your pianist?" "No," she said. "He is my boyfriend." "Oh, okay. Do you have any music?" asked Luciano. But she didn't have any music and she didn't have a pianist but she wanted to sing some arias. So I said, "I will accompany her." She was terrible. She was very, very bad. She sang out of tune and she couldn't maintain the voice and so after awhile Luciano said to her, "Come over to my desk." He had an enormous desk with a big equestrian statue on it. Pointing to the statue, he asked the young woman: "Do you see the details of the muscles of the horse? Do you see all these details?" "Yes," she said. "Do you think that the one who made this statue was a good sculptor?" "Oh, absolutely," she said. "Well, you know, he had something to start with. He had the marble. I'm sorry to tell you this but you don't have the marble." [This story was told by composer Lalo Schifrin on NPR's Weekend Edition Sunday, during an interview with Liane Hansen, September 16, 2007.]

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Miles Away

By Dolores Hoffman Oftentimes, my thoughts turn to fate while watching the arbitrary fireflies escape the jars held by the children low in the valley. What if it wasn’t fate ? … but merely the place of their choosing instead and what if the fortune of the children running through the midnight grass, blew in from faraway beaches, just to be present tonight. I wonder how many idle minds realize, too late the unused energy that is their own, now forfeited to the random aura in which it was born. and in the end…… mourned by no one.

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Tim Westergren Avoid the risk of not trying and the regret of wishing you had. Tim Westergren, the founder and Chief Strategy Officer at Pandora, said if he could offer his younger self one piece of advice, it would be to realize from an early age that it’s far more haunting to live with the regret of having not followed your instincts--even when those instincts required a diversion from the beaten path-than to have followed your gut and failed. Luckily for Westergren, he was one of the few who did follow his passions and that pursuit led him to found a company with a market cap of $2.5 billion. "Be sure to ‘notice’ ideas when you have them. Stop. Take the time to consider them seriously. And if your gut tells you they're compelling, be fearless in their pursuit,” Westergren said. “For most people, the idea of chasing a personal passion or being entrepreneurial is simply something they don't think of themselves doing. We're so programmed to walk well-trodden paths. But, we live life only once. So, rather than avoiding the risk of trying, avoid the risk of not trying. Nothing is more haunting than thinking, ‘I wish I had...’." http://www.fastcompany.com/3009482/dialed/8-successful-entrepreneursgive-their-younger-selves-lessons-they-wish-theyd-known-th

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Just a Thought

Even if you fall on your face, you're still moving forward. Victor Kiam

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Dolores Hoffman, Editor & Publisher Vineland, NJ Please feel free to send your comments or submissions to: collectionpoet@aol.com or visit the website at www.haddonhousepress.org

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