[stylist] Matilda Ziegler Magazine

[John J. Boyer]

Hi Ashley,

The Matilda Ziegler Magazine had Braille, cassette and large print 
editions. I think it is unethical for them to just drop everything 
except an online edition without explanation. The few times I have 
looked at the online edition I didn't find anything of interest.

I read Braille in bed a lot. When I was a kid the book would fall to the 
floor with a crash when I fell asleep.

John

On Sat, May 19, 2012 at 11:38:24AM -0400, Ashley Bramlett wrote:
> Hi John,
> What did they used to do? I wasn't aware it was international. I agree, how 
> sad it is only electronic because  many international subscribers do not 
> have a computer. I'll look online and if it interests me, I might still 
> subscribe. But like Linda I prefer a tape because I don't have to sit at a 
> computer to read then. I mean tape or digital cartrige, as I realize tapes 
> are going away.  Perhaps the magazine was struggling financially so they 
> discontinued the other formats, maybe lack of staff to produce the 
> materials; I don't know. But to see a braille magazine stopped is quite 
> disappointing.
> Reading braillle for us is like reading print for everyone else. It is a 
> different experience than listening. Not enough braille is produced as it 
> is and with electronic braille it seems to be produced less. I like having 
> the actual book on my lap or table. I would read braille under the covers 
> as kid before falling asleep. I'd put the book at the foot of my bed and 
> grab it and read when I woke up. For me its easier to read regular embossed 
> braille than ebraille on a display.
> 
> Ashley
> 
> -----Original Message----- 
> From: John J. Boyer
> Sent: Friday, May 18, 2012 11:31 PM
> To: Writer's Division Mailing List
> Subject: Re: [stylist] Matilda Ziegler Magazine
> 
> I must say that I am personally very disappointed with the Ziegler
> magazine. I had been receiving it in braille for more than forty years.
> Then one month they announced that they were discontinuing everything
> except an online edition. There was no explanation. This was so opposed
> to what I thought the purpose of the magazine was that I couldn't
> believe it and kept looking for my braille copy for a few months. There
> were a lot of international subscribers who depended on the magazine for
> braille material. I think that dropping everything except the online
> edition is contrary to the wishes of Matilda Ziegler herself. I've
> looked at the website a few times, but the magazine has changed. It used
> to be sort of general coverage and even had some articles of scientific
> and technical interest. There was always a story. The last time I looked
> all I could find was articles on blindness, many of them by their own
> employees.
> 
> Sad memmories of what once was.
> 
> John
> 
> On Fri, May 18, 2012 at 09:42:17PM -0400, Ashley Bramlett wrote:
> >Cheryl,
> >Thanks. Email is easier than reading online. I wish they did braille
> >though! Maybe the website will say if they produce it in other formats 
> >such
> >as audio or braille.
> >
> >-----Original Message----- 
> >From: cheryl echevarria
> >Sent: Friday, May 18, 2012 4:30 PM
> >To: Writer's Division Mailing List
> >Subject: Re: [stylist] Matilda Ziegler Magazine
> >
> >
> >it comes in e-mail format, I know I get it, in fact, they recently did an
> >interview on me back in April.
> >
> >http://www.matildaziegler.com/
> >Cheryl Echevarria
> >Leading the Way in Independent Travel!
> >
> >Cheryl Echevarria
> >http://www.echevarriatravel.com
> >631-456-5394
> >reservations at echevarriatravel.com
> >
> >For daily updates read our blog at
> >http://www.echevarriatravel.wordpress.com
> >
> >>To: stylist at nfbnet.org
> >>From: loristay at aol.com
> >>Date: Fri, 18 May 2012 16:18:12 -0400
> >>Subject: Re: [stylist] Matilda Ziegler Magazine
> >>
> >>Matilda Ziegler magazine can be gotten online now, I think.  It used to
> >>come out in Braille, but the costs got them.
> >>  You can check out their website:  www.matildaziegler.com
> >>David says the address we found for them might be old, but it is 80 
> >>Eighth
> >>Avenue, New York NY 10011
> >>and the phone:  212-242-0263, email blind at verizon.net
> >>Hope some of that is helpful.
> >>Lori
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >>-----Original Message-----
> >>From: Ashley Bramlett <bookwormahb at earthlink.net>
> >>To: Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> >>Sent: Wed, May 16, 2012 7:06 pm
> >>Subject: Re: [stylist] There be Members in this online Mag!
> >>
> >>
> >>How do you get Matilda  Ziegler magazine?
> >>What sort of writing is in it?
> >>
> >>
> >>-----Original Message----- 
> >>From: Robert Leslie Newman
> >>Sent: Tuesday, May 01, 2012 8:51 AM
> >>To: writers nfb
> >>Subject: [stylist] There be Members in this online Mag!
> >>
> >>(Look for Nancy and Marilyn)
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >>This is the Matilda Ziegler Magazine for the Blind
> >>
> >>2012 Poetry Issue
> >>
> >>  Table of Contents
> >>
> >>  Editor's Note
> >>
> >>Nancy Scott - Advantages of Not Knowing Mirrors William Shake 'N Bake
> >>
> >>  - An Epicurean's Epigram Sally Rosenthal - Solace Bunny Maginnis - I
> >>
> >>  Saw a Sunset Ann Chiappetta - Appearances Cathy Brotz - Growing Old
> >>
> >>  and The Golden Door Valerie Moreno - Wake Up Call Marilyn Brandt Smith
> >>
> >>  - The Walk Home Floris Brown - You dressed me in purple Lori Castner -
> >>
> >>  Window-shopping Claudia Del Real - Another Day Carol Fleischman -
> >>
> >>  Braille Rosetta Brown - A Poem Is Carole Rose - Swinging Rex Leslie
> >>
> >>  Howard, Jr. - Force Unseen Abbie Taylor - I Walk Alone Ray Holland -
> >>
> >>  The skies I remember Ed Neiman - Meditation on the Memorial Wall Karen
> >>
> >>  Crowder - Country Folks James Boswell - Oh Kapten My Kapten Ruth E.
> >>
> >>  Coleman - The Promise Keeper Norma A. Boge - Longing Bonnie Rennie -
> >>
> >>  Okay I Can't See Kalu Ndukwe - A Third String Gratitude
> >>
> >>  For your convenience, each poem is separated by the ## symbol.
> >>
> >>  Editors Note:  Poetry is literary art, and forces the artist into a
> >>
> >>  habit of intricate deliberation as they carefully place words into a
> >>
> >>  confined space--like a watchmaker gently laying the gears and springs
> >>
> >>  into the body of their work.  Every element is meaningful and has a
> >>
> >>  defined purpose as they build rhythm and meld to fulfill the function
> >>
> >>  of the artist.  But where time is static, poetry is like a
> >>
> >>  cloud--constantly changing and experienced differently by each 
> >> observer.
> >>
> >>  I would like to thank everyone who submitted material for this year's
> >>
> >>  poetry issue.  You have all done a fantastic job.
> >>
> >>  Enjoy!
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Nancy Scott - Advantages of Not Knowing Mirrors
> >>
> >>  I've forgotten again
> >>
> >>what color
> >>
> >>my clouded eyes are.
> >>
> >>People have said grey,
> >>
> >>but someone said blue once
> >>
> >>and I like the sound of that.
> >>
> >>  I want to hear my face's
> >>
> >>laugh lines and heart shape
> >>
> >>and wishful forty-five-year-old skin
> >>
> >>but I don't ask,
> >>
> >>not wanting the sound of truth
> >>
> >>unknowable by touch.
> >>
> >>  I can feel
> >>
> >>my Irish-bent nose
> >>
> >>and the breathlessness
> >>
> >>of twenty pounds I should lose.
> >>
> >>But the sound
> >>
> >>of my still-thick hair
> >>
> >>is silver.
> >>
> >>  Now isn't that more fun than seeing?
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>William Shake 'N Bake - An Epicurean's Epigram
> >>
> >>  Eat what you love, and love be what you eat O you who snack on care's
> >>
> >>  perfidious crimes.
> >>
> >>A fool's content lies more with white than wheat, and diet is a symbol
> >>
> >>  of the times.
> >>
> >>Love is a dish of gusto-garnished veal, and steak is not outwitted by
> >>
> >>  the rest of Cupid's saucy arrows, for his meal contents love's least
> >>
> >>  sad labour with the best.
> >>
> >>If low-fat yogurt adds but little spice to salad dressings creamy and
> >>
> >>  divine, it is the diet's demons dour device.
> >>
> >>Love and be loved with fat and flavour fine.
> >>
> >>If counting calories you do despise,
> >>
> >>then grab a chocolate milkshake and be wise!
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Sally Rosenthal - Solace
> >>
> >>  I brought my mother a dog
> >>
> >>to polish the dullness
> >>
> >>of a nursing home routine and
> >>
> >>make it sparkle
> >>
> >>with Labrador enthusiasm.
> >>
> >>  I brought my mother a dog
> >>
> >>to remind her she was the same person
> >>
> >>whose ninety-one years had been graced with canine devotion, from the
> >>
> >>  wire-haired terrier of her native England who, being averse to
> >>
> >>  grooming, buried his brush in a neighbor's garden, from the mastiffs
> >>
> >>  bred and shown by her late sister at Crufts, from the Boston terrier,
> >>
> >>  assorted brown mutts, and retired hunting spaniels who had Christmas
> >>
> >>  presents under our family tree to the yellow Labrador who, with my
> >>
> >>  hand on her harness, deftly guided me through the institutional halls
> >>
> >>  on her missions of comfort.
> >>
> >>  I brought my mother a dog
> >>
> >>to salve my conscience for
> >>
> >>the care I could not provide
> >>
> >>and to assuage my guilt for
> >>
> >>the luxuries I had at home of
> >>
> >>meals of my own choosing,
> >>
> >>hot cups of tea,
> >>
> >>and quiet privacy.
> >>
> >>  I brought my mother a dog
> >>
> >>a few hours before she died.
> >>
> >>As I held her waif-like hand,
> >>
> >>listening to her changing breath and
> >>
> >>bidding her safe travel, I prayed
> >>
> >>the woman in the nursing home bed
> >>
> >>that held no hint of home realized
> >>
> >>I had brought us both a dog.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Bunny Maginnis - I Saw a Sunset
> >>
> >>  I awoke in darkness, the hour seemed quite late.
> >>
> >>How long had I been sleeping, I tried to concentrate.
> >>
> >>I must have closed the curtains, that's it, without a doubt.
> >>
> >>Or perhaps, a storm came through and then electricity went out.
> >>
> >>I felt my way across the room and when I found the door, I opened it
> >>
> >>  and stood there, bewildered and unsure.
> >>
> >>The birds were sweetly singing and folks were walking by.
> >>
> >>At first I felt fear and anger, and then I began to cry.
> >>
> >>For it was my eyes, I lost my sight I knew it had to be.
> >>
> >>But I felt so alone and frightened, how could this happen to me.
> >>
> >>I cried my God, where have you gone,
> >>
> >>Why have you left me all alone?
> >>
> >>You know on you I will rely,
> >>
> >>But must I be blind until I die?
> >>
> >>And then, in my mind's eye there did appear, A vision bright, and very
> >>
> >>  clear.
> >>
> >>A blue sky, puffy clouds, lovely to behold, Surrounded a suspended
> >>
> >>  ball of crimson, orange and gold.
> >>
> >>My mind's eye filled with wonder, I shed not one single tear drop.
> >>
> >>For you see, I viewed this lovely scene standing high on a mountain top.
> >>
> >>It was this that made me realize,
> >>
> >>That I could live without my eyes. Though physically they are quite
> >>
> >>  blind, I'm not sightless in my mind.
> >>
> >>Whenever a thing I wish to see,
> >>
> >>I activate my memory.
> >>
> >>Yes, that's a day I'll not forget.
> >>
> >>I lost my sight, but, I saw a sunset.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Ann Chiappetta - Appearances
> >>
> >>  Once, not long ago
> >>
> >>the details of life consumed me
> >>
> >>Images of wild flowers, riotous colors in a blanket of green were
> >>
> >>  picked, not left untouched.
> >>
> >>  Dependence on Televised Greek tragedies Indelible Portraits, live
> >>
> >>  feeds and last breaths Possessed me.
> >>
> >>  Now a sound or smell overrides the lost optical cues Memories ribbon
> >>
> >>  the air with Familiar scents Warm, pungent earth after it rains
> >>
> >>  Reminders of ripening tomatoes The brace and sting of crisp winter
> >>
> >>  wind Recollections of hikes in the snow tipped pines
> >>
> >>  The soft, clear tinkle of ice on a windowpane And my husband's
> >>
> >>  breathing deep in the night Comforts the troubles Lulls me back to
> >>
> >>  sleep ## Cathy Brotz - Growing Old and The Golden Door
> >>
> >>  Author's Note: The first poem was written by my grandmother, Katherine
> >>
> >>  Gilbert Cullerton, who was blind from Retinitis Pigmentosa. She wrote
> >>
> >>  the poem in January 1985. She passed on in January 1988, just shy of
> >>
> >>  her 98th birthday.
> >>
> >>  The second poem was written by my father, John H. Cullerton, on
> >>
> >>  January 16, 1988, the day that his mother passed. He is legally blind
> >>
> >>  from Retinitis Pigmentosa and will turn 87 on May 20, 2012.
> >>
> >>  Growing Old
> >>
> >>Katherine Gilbert Cullerton
> >>
> >>  You'll never know how sad it is,
> >>
> >>What growing old can be like,
> >>
> >>Until you're near the Golden Door.
> >>
> >>  My eyes are dim, my hearings's poor;
> >>
> >>The arthritis in my back
> >>
> >>Gets worse with every twist and bend.
> >>
> >>  So enjoy yourself while you are young.
> >>
> >>Get the things you can afford.
> >>
> >>  My greatest pleasure was helping others And lending a helping hand.
> >>
> >>  I have a wonderful family
> >>
> >>And kind friends by the score,
> >>
> >>But I hope it won't be very long
> >>
> >>Before I reach the Golden Door.
> >>
> >>  The Golden Door
> >>
> >>by John H. Cullerton
> >>
> >>  She sees it now... the Golden Door.
> >>
> >>  Slowly, nearer, nearer, nearer,
> >>
> >>Even nearer, nearer more.
> >>
> >>  She is there now...
> >>
> >>  Then turns to take a final bow,
> >>
> >>And returns to former state,
> >>
> >>Of passing through that Golden Gate.
> >>
> >>  We do not know what lies ahead,
> >>
> >>But see her smile as she does tread,
> >>
> >>Along the beauty flower bed.
> >>
> >>  She slowly disappears from view,
> >>
> >>As the Golden Door askew
> >>
> >>Gently closes.
> >>
> >>  She is gone.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Valerie Moreno - Wake Up Call
> >>
> >>  Brooding too long
> >>
> >>in bare branches
> >>
> >>absent vitality
> >>
> >>  A touch stirs
> >>
> >>sleeping resolve energy
> >>
> >>time to imagine
> >>
> >>  untangle
> >>
> >>unravel stiff boredom and respond-
> >>
> >>universal wake-up call
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Marilyn Brandt Smith - The Walk Home
> >>
> >>  I seldom walk this way, but since it's late, The highway tempts me,
> >>
> >>  offers smoother tread.
> >>
> >>Approaching from the woods, my traps all set, I see that rain has left
> >>
> >>  a silver sheen;
> >>
> >>  Lights from a passing car direct my gaze; Am I the first to come upon
> >>
> >>  distress?
> >>
> >>Tendrils flutter, motion draws me near.
> >>
> >>A child, a wounded dog, what have we here?
> >>
> >>  Hurry home and call for help from town?
> >>
> >>Lift this bundle, see what I can do?
> >>
> >>I touch the unfamiliar, pull away,
> >>
> >>My God! It's only broken bales of hay!
> >>
> >>  I murmur thanks, and soon go on my way.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Floris Brown - You dressed me in purple
> >>
> >>  In my grim loneliness
> >>
> >>I also want to love
> >>
> >>touch you
> >>
> >>feeling with passion
> >>
> >>the curves of your face
> >>
> >>until I have my picture
> >>
> >>of how I think you
> >>
> >>might look
> >>
> >>  your voice, your warm
> >>
> >>presence
> >>
> >>your smell, your footstep
> >>
> >>your laughter, is all I have
> >>
> >>to hold on to
> >>
> >>to know
> >>
> >>you are mine
> >>
> >>  your explosions of fury
> >>
> >>your intolerable manner
> >>
> >>of screaming at me
> >>
> >>no patience venom
> >>
> >>the purple dress you always
> >>
> >>clothed me with
> >>
> >>as doctors told
> >>
> >>  dimmed my light yesterday
> >>
> >>like the branches of a willow tree
> >>
> >>your dark side
> >>
> >>hovered over me
> >>
> >>clothed me enfolded me
> >>
> >>and I wanted to elope
> >>
> >>away from the dark side in you
> >>
> >>  then you give me your shoulder .
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Lori Castner - Window-shopping
> >>
> >>  I spent those weeks
> >>
> >>Before each childhood
> >>
> >>Christmas
> >>
> >>Yearning to possess
> >>
> >>The store display.
> >>
> >>I stood in crowds
> >>
> >>And peered through glass
> >>
> >>Unable to afford
> >>
> >>The porcelain doll
> >>
> >>That begged for
> >>
> >>Unconditional love.
> >>
> >>I longed to caress
> >>
> >>Sumptuous blonde curls
> >>
> >>Knowing they would feel
> >>
> >>Soft as down.
> >>
> >>My fingers ached
> >>
> >>To stroke supple skin
> >>
> >>Certain it would prove
> >>
> >>Lifelike and warm.
> >>
> >>Eyes that shut in sleep
> >>
> >>And opened wide in pleasure
> >>
> >>Tantalized and beckoned.
> >>
> >>Each day I stood adoring,
> >>
> >>And anticipated Christmas
> >>
> >>Sure she would be there
> >>
> >>Beneath our tree.
> >>
> >>  The year I turned thirteen
> >>
> >>I ceased to hope,
> >>
> >>Too old for dolls,
> >>
> >>Anyway.
> >>
> >>Instead I received
> >>
> >>A synthetic coat
> >>
> >>My parents scrimped
> >>
> >>All year to buy
> >>
> >>And wore it six Decembers
> >>
> >>Against Chicago chill.
> >>
> >>  Loving you is like
> >>
> >>Those childhood times.
> >>
> >>I return day after day
> >>
> >>To bask in your smile
> >>
> >>While your eyes look beyond me
> >>
> >>To the nearby crowd
> >>
> >>Or watch your own
> >>
> >>Reflection in the glass.
> >>
> >>Faithfully I wait
> >>
> >>In reverence.
> >>
> >>Eagerly you seek your own.
> >>
> >>  I long to relive
> >>
> >>That yuletide season
> >>
> >>When I put aside
> >>
> >>Childish things.
> >>
> >>And gratefully accepted
> >>
> >>A gabardine cloak
> >>
> >>That warmed me in seasons of cold.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Claudia Del Real - Another Day
> >>
> >>  Another day
> >>
> >>Has come and gone.
> >>
> >>Yet every day's
> >>
> >>like a new dawn.
> >>
> >>  So full of promise,
> >>
> >>So full of life,
> >>
> >>So full of hope
> >>
> >>And sometimes strife.
> >>
> >>  Another day
> >>
> >>Has come and gone.
> >>
> >>Yet every day's
> >>
> >>Like a new dawn.
> >>
> >>  Love with your heart,
> >>
> >>Live with your soul,
> >>
> >>You'll shed your tears
> >>
> >>And sometimes lose control.
> >>
> >>  Another day
> >>
> >>Has come and gone,
> >>
> >>Yet every day's
> >>
> >>Like a new dawn.
> >>
> >>  Enjoy your life,
> >>
> >>Conquer your fears,
> >>
> >>And always know,
> >>
> >>These are your best years!
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Carol Fleischman - Braille
> >>
> >>  Fog hides the loops and lines of print.
> >>
> >>A hand sails over a sea of dots,
> >>
> >>Letters, words, and sentences flow past.
> >>
> >>Fingers, like a silent ship, read forward.
> >>
> >>  A pattern of six dots plots a course.
> >>
> >>The treasure is mine; I know the code.
> >>
> >>Steady fingers ride the waves of dots, Taking me as far as my mind can
> >>
> >>  travel.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Rosetta Brown - A Poem Is
> >>
> >>  A poem is a bequest to leave behind
> >>
> >>It is a treasure the poet bestows upon mankind The poem is part of the
> >>
> >>  creator that can be read and recited many years later
> >>
> >>  It is a brief moment in time
> >>
> >>I dedicate it to the reader for it's no longer mine The poem may give
> >>
> >>  them some insight Or lessen burdens for some plight ## Carole Rose -
> >>
> >>  Swinging
> >>
> >>  The swing sits quietly in the early spring sunshine, Waiting for me.
> >>
> >>It has been months since our last voyage together.
> >>
> >>I climb onto the swing
> >>
> >>and grip its warm, strong chains.
> >>
> >>The familiar sense of anticipation returns.
> >>
> >>I swing gently at first
> >>
> >>listening to birdsong
> >>
> >>savoring the cool breeze,
> >>
> >>and then:
> >>
> >>I begin to push harder and swing higher.
> >>
> >>I stand in the seat, my muscles straining, willing myself to soar even
> >>
> >>  higher.
> >>
> >>I am oblivious to the other children on the playground.
> >>
> >>I am wild with joy.
> >>
> >>The wind speaks to me.
> >>
> >>My heart is singing
> >>
> >>my smile is radiant.
> >>
> >>The swing is even with the bars.
> >>
> >>I am free!
> >>
> >>I am reaching for the sky!
> >>
> >>I want to kiss the sun, to capture a fleecy cloud!
> >>
> >>Suddenly I realize I can go no higher.
> >>
> >>The swing slows.
> >>
> >>I am spent, yet exhilarated.
> >>
> >>I tumble onto a grassy carpet
> >>
> >>and bury my face in its greenness.
> >>
> >>A swing is just a swing and I am just a child.
> >>
> >>One can only swing so high.
> >>
> >>And yet
> >>
> >>Imagination offers endless possibilities.
> >>
> >>My swing and I will soar again.,
> >>
> >>ever higher until we touch the sky.
> >>
> >>I will kiss the sun,
> >>
> >>I will capture my fleecy cloud.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Rex Leslie Howard, Jr. - Force Unseen
> >>
> >>  I come from places far and near.
> >>
> >>I'm a moaning, whispering voice of force.
> >>
> >>I'm not transparent though I am clear, and nature guides my course.
> >>
> >>  I bring the world refreshing reprieve, on the hottest days of spring,
> >>
> >>  In the Fall I prune away last year's leaves.
> >>
> >>while southbound birds take wing.
> >>
> >>  I bring the flurries of whitest snow,
> >>
> >>with the chill of winter days.
> >>
> >>I wonder aimlessly to and fro,
> >>
> >>and sing in ghostly haunting ways.
> >>
> >>  I amplify scent when the days grow long; I give waves to the heat and
> >>
> >>  shimmer to the light.
> >>
> >>I bring the tune of returning birdsong.
> >>
> >>I'm the sweetness of remembered summer nights.
> >>
> >>  I'm an endless cycle not to be undone, always beyond the hands that
> >>
> >>  grasp.
> >>
> >>Angry, I can be stopped by no one.
> >>
> >>Even the oceans yield to my task.
> >>
> >>  I comfort, enrich, bless and curse
> >>
> >>and spread life around the globe.
> >>
> >>I suck vast waters up when I suffer thirst.
> >>
> >>yielding only to God's control.
> >>
> >>  I bring down cities and entire nations, with only a whispering sigh.
> >>
> >>Never tiring and constantly patient,
> >>
> >>I live on though I frequently die.
> >>
> >>  I am the one thing physical eyes will never see, And against which
> >>
> >>  Mortal man is helpless to defend.
> >>
> >>I am the thing I've been and will always be, I am the awesome force of
> >>
> >>  wind.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Abbie Taylor - I Walk Alone
> >>
> >>  In favorable weather, I take the sidewalk to the bank, pharmacy, post
> >>
> >>  office, jewelry store, card shop, senior center, library.
> >>
> >>My white cane sweeps from side to side in front of me.
> >>
> >>Alone except for the cars that whizz by.
> >>
> >>I find peace of mind.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Ray Holland - The skies I remember
> >>
> >>  Beautiful was the deep blue of a clear morning sky Fluffy white clouds
> >>
> >>  that floated in every imaginable shape A large white whale followed by
> >>
> >>  fluffy cannon balls in the wake A sitting dog begging for scraps of
> >>
> >>  food, than falling on his backside A bowling ball disappearing into a
> >>
> >>  floating ship Oh those unlimited, wonderful cloud pictures in the
> >>
> >>  beautiful blue sky Jet streams that criss-cross the sky on clear
> >>
> >>  cloudless days Each day gave off new dramatic scenes as my head turned
> >>
> >>  upward to observe them
> >>
> >>  Dark stormy clouds in a grey sky that blot out the sun and warn of
> >>
> >>  impending bad weather Bright streaks of lightning followed by rolling
> >>
> >>  booms of thunder usually followed The bright sun breaking through any
> >>
> >>  break in the clouds was and is a never forgotten warmth of nature
> >>
> >>  The night sky is a wonder to behold on a clear dark night Stars that
> >>
> >>  twinkle and shine as pinpoints of white light are uncountable Each
> >>
> >>  night the moon changes its size and brightness Was that a man's face
> >>
> >>  that is on the full moon?
> >>
> >>Birds fly, bugs skim and flutter about the sky
> >>
> >>  Now without sight all the memories of that greatness above live on in
> >>
> >>  my memory
> >>
> >>  However, are they still all there?
> >>
> >>There is warmth that flows from above to cover my face and arms Clouds
> >>
> >>  and shadows blot out that sunny warmth from my body Today is that
> >>
> >>  great sky looking just as I remember?
> >>
> >>Or is it just a nebula,
> >>
> >>Nothing that I now seem to perceive?
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Ed Neiman - Meditation on the Memorial Wall
> >>
> >>  Author's Note:  A perspective, in reverie, upon a visit to The Vietnam
> >>
> >>  Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington D.C., and Remembering my brother,
> >>
> >>  Gary Preston Neiman: (1951-1969).
> >>
> >>  Diaphanous, incorporeal, wrought of reverie, A soldier's image looms
> >>
> >>  in fantasy Over the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in D.C.
> >>
> >>His arms, (as The Wall), extend in earnest plea; And thus perceived,
> >>
> >>  the colossal eidolon speaks to me:
> >>
> >>  "Serving America, I perished in far-off Vietnam, Bereft of blithesome
> >>
> >>  youth's due aspiration.
> >>
> >>Dauntless, facing adversary's pestilential gun, Was I forfeited to
> >>
> >>  vicious strife's abomination.
> >>
> >>My arms entreat: Come, see what this war has done!
> >>
> >>As now they stretch inert in resignation."
> >>
> >>  These arms are a wall of burnished granite, (black for mourning):
> >>
> >>Poignant is the somber metaphor.
> >>
> >>These arms are a ledger unfolded:
> >>
> >>Grim chronicle of commitment's tariff.
> >>
> >>Names of this war's casualties mortally wounded, (so many treasured
> >>
> >>  thousands), Here, with profound tribute, are enduringly told.
> >>
> >>  Not all the rain that bathes these gargantuan arms Could fade the
> >>
> >>  taint of blood surged from Kinsmen dispatched; Nor could all the
> >>
> >>  sunshine that warms their graven panels Disperse the torrent of tears
> >>
> >>  shed by those who loved ones here ennobled.
> >>
> >>  These arms, downward cant, seem heavy laden, As ponderously burdened
> >>
> >>  with eons of precious years unspent.
> >>
> >>These arms are spread like a tormented V, --For venture? . Or for
> >>
> >>  Vietnam?
> >>
> >>  A V, devoid of conviction, shallow, inverted, signing distress, Like
> >>
> >>  flagging wings of a valiant Eagle aggrieved, Or like a shaken Nation's
> >>
> >>  countenance woeful shown.
> >>
> >>But yet, A V that strengthens structure, Bulwark 'gainst the surge of
> >>
> >>  time and tide's obliteration, Forefending inhumation.
> >>
> >>  Oh, this palpable commemoration!
> >>
> >>Its majestic simplicity!
> >>
> >>It's enthralling democracy!
> >>
> >>Its fervent solemnity!
> >>
> >>Pledge of perpetual veneration!
> >>
> >>  Meditate upon this stately, humble, Wall.
> >>
> >>Apprehend its pleading call.
> >>
> >>Mute, it speaks with myriad tongues in silence, Despite the stifling
> >>
> >>  hand of violence.
> >>
> >>Listen to the eloquence of hush:
> >>
> >>A whisper midst quotidian rush.
> >>
> >>Gaze into deepness 'neath its lustrous sheen, Mirrored in glaze,
> >>
> >>  perceived, unseen.
> >>
> >>Touch the singled symbol of address,
> >>
> >>As once was dealt the fond caress.
> >>
> >>  Each name here scribed: a history hewn by tragic conflict, --Abridged
> >>
> >>  amidst a battle breaking.
> >>
> >>Each cherished soul bethought: a private echo in the heart of its
> >>
> >>  beloved, --A throbbing, wistful, aching.
> >>
> >>Each past: some future's fabric weft of sacrifice, --Demand of
> >>
> >>  calamitous leave-taking.
> >>
> >>  Honor those absent.
> >>
> >>Recall them present.
> >>
> >>Wonder: what if...?
> >>
> >>  GRIEVE.
> >>
> >>  But these arms, alas, cannot embrace to grant surcease Of sorrow's
> >>
> >>  pang, or abate the timeless anguished breath; Nor ever can they,
> >>
> >>  tranquil, folded be in pose of peace:
> >>
> >>  THESE ARMS, INSENSATE, ARE INELUCTABLY FROZEN by DEATH.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Karen Crowder - Country Folks
> >>
> >>  We awaken not to the sound of honking horns, We are not disturbed by
> >>
> >>  the constant sound of roaring traffic, The melody of chirping birds
> >>
> >>  wakes us from sound slumber The quiet whisper of breezes coming
> >>
> >>  through our open windows,
> >>
> >>  Early mornings are not nerve jostling with jarring sound of rush hour
> >>
> >>  traffic People always rushing down streets to subways and busses In
> >>
> >>  the country the smell of growing things fills the air, Unhurried
> >>
> >>  people arrive at work content with the gentle chatter of rustling
> >>
> >>  leaves and barking dogs.
> >>
> >>  Late afternoon horns blare in the mayhem of oncoming traffic People
> >>
> >>  wishing to escape the cacophony of city noise, Cars glide home with
> >>
> >>  already planted gardens The melody of robins and chickadees greeting
> >>
> >>  them as they arrive
> >>
> >>  Nighttime falls with city sound of boom boxes and slamming car doors,
> >>
> >>  Serenity and rest are hard to find with loud music and sirens The
> >>
> >>  peepers chirp, birds serenade us through the evening Sitting on
> >>
> >>  porches, we love the tranquility of the country.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>James Boswell - Oh Kapten My Kapten
> >>
> >>  Oh Kapten my Kapten, I broke down and cried, Becausse I was bewildered
> >>
> >>  by your study guide.
> >>
> >>Oh Kapten my Kapten, directing toward success With MP3 player, FM, and
> >>
> >>  GPS.
> >>
> >>Oh Kapten my Kapten, global navigation Your system will point the way
> >>
> >>  to my destination.
> >>
> >>Oh Kapten my Kapten, global navigation, Announcing streets in my town
> >>
> >>  and across our nation.
> >>
> >>Oh Kapten my Kapten, I need to be aware Of where I am, where I'll go,
> >>
> >>  and how I will get there.
> >>
> >>Oh Kapten my Kapten, when I choose to roam, Your voice will declare to
> >>
> >>  me How I will get home.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Ruth E. Coleman - The Promise Keeper
> >>
> >>  In all the things that have happened to me, God's given me ability to
> >>
> >>  see.
> >>
> >>How to make it to the other side,
> >>
> >>Whether I walk, jump, slip or slide.
> >>
> >>He's given me ways to conquer my foes, By sniffing their deception,
> >>
> >>  with my keen keen nose.
> >>
> >>So far as attacks,
> >>
> >>I ignore the whacks.
> >>
> >>Like Ziggy and his dog,
> >>
> >>I am victorious in smog.
> >>
> >>Never knowing which way is up,
> >>
> >>My way is made sure by my faithful pup.
> >>
> >>Who is lead by the Powerful unseen Hand, The Lord and Redeemer of
> >>
> >>  mortal man; The same who once walked on water, Who healed the sick and
> >>
> >>  raised Jairus' daughter.
> >>
> >>Who spit on clay and made the blind to see, Who told His Disciples.
> >>
> >>  "Even though they Crucify Me., I'll shake off death on Day Three."
> >>
> >>and His Promise to you and to me,
> >>
> >>"I'm coming again, and ALL WILL SEE!"
> >>
> >>Can we trust Him?  Sure we can,
> >>
> >>Even better than sighted man,
> >>
> >>Because we know who leads us, not our dog, He's the One who created
> >>
> >>  and sees clearly in the smog.
> >>
> >>He knows where we're going, and our end.
> >>
> >>He's the One Who made us. Jesus, Our Best Friend.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Norma A. Boge - Longing
> >>
> >>  When days are dark and the world's so cold And memories are all I have
> >>
> >>  to look forward to I think about you, so sweet and so playful And how
> >>
> >>  I loved to see the boy inside the man I know you loved me for your own
> >>
> >>  reasons And my heart holds a special place for you Time and space
> >>
> >>  conspired to keep us apart And I'm sorry fate dealt the hand it did I
> >>
> >>  will carry on, as will you, down separate paths And I'll meet you
> >>
> >>  where the stars collide ## Bonnie Rennie - Okay I Can't See
> >>
> >>  Some say "So sad that you can't see!"
> >>
> >>But that simply seems so silly to me.
> >>
> >>The sights in sounds, in symphony
> >>
> >>So sensational, not to be scrapped or scorned, sincerely!
> >>
> >>I savor the songs, and seriously!
> >>
> >>No room to perceive them, if I could see.
> >>
> >>The shouting sea, the sandy shore,
> >>
> >>The sheltering sunset, who could seek for more.
> >>
> >>The other senses see how to celebrate life.
> >>
> >>Were I to see now, it would surely bring strife.
> >>
> >>So please don't say "sorry" that I can't see.
> >>
> >>Glad to set aside the shallowness
> >>
> >>Love what my heart can see.
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>Kalu Ndukwe - A Third String Gratitude
> >>
> >>  Though not a 1st or 2nd string,
> >>
> >>Which the world may call east or west, But my heart truly sing:
> >>
> >>Thanks, thanks for your best,
> >>
> >>Life's battles fiercely fought,
> >>
> >>That the blind everywhere:
> >>
> >>Their joy and independence no more hurt, And peace to all found so
> >>
> >>  dear!
> >>
> >>##
> >>
> >>END OF POETRY ISSUE 2012
> >>
> >>  This email was sent to rgardner4 at gmail.com.
> >>
> >>If you are no longer interested you can unsubscribe instantly:
> >>
> >>http://swisher.cmail4.com/t/r-u-dkhkkid-fldlthya-r/
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >>Robert Leslie Newman
> >>
> >>Personal Website-
> >>
> >>Adjustment To Blindness And Visual impairment
> >>
> >>http//www.thoughtprovoker.info
> >>
> >>NFB Writers' Division, president
> >>
> >>http://www.nfb-writers-division.net
> >>
> >>Chair of the NFB Communications Committee
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >>_______________________________________________
> >>Writers Division web site:
> >>http://www.nfb-writers-division.net 
> >><http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> >>
> >>stylist mailing list
> >>stylist at nfbnet.org
> >>http://nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> >>To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> >>stylist:
> >>http://nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/bookwormahb%40earthlink.net
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >>_______________________________________________
> >>Writers Division web site:
> >>http://www.nfb-writers-division.net 
> >><http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> >>
> >>stylist mailing list
> >>stylist at nfbnet.org
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> >>
> >>
> >>_______________________________________________
> >>Writers Division web site:
> >>http://www.nfb-writers-division.net 
> >><http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> >>
> >>stylist mailing list
> >>stylist at nfbnet.org
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> >
> >_______________________________________________
> >Writers Division web site:
> >http://www.nfb-writers-division.net <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> >
> >stylist mailing list
> >stylist at nfbnet.org
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> >_______________________________________________
> >Writers Division web site:
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> >
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> 
> -- 
> John J. Boyer, Executive Director
> GodTouches Digital Ministry, Inc.
> http://www.godtouches.org
> Madison, Wisconsin, USA
> Peace, Love, Service
> 
> 
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site:
> http://www.nfb-writers-division.net <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
> 
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> 
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-- 
John J. Boyer, Executive Director
GodTouches Digital Ministry, Inc.
http://www.godtouches.org
Madison, Wisconsin, USA
Peace, Love, Service