Archive for the ‘Daily Musings’ Category

Sunday, 3:43 AM

In Daily Musings, Excerpts of Prose, poetry on February 27, 2011 at 4:03 AM
 Read the rest of this entry »

Ring-Around-A-Rosie, Lay Me Down To Sleep

In Daily Musings, FOR YOUR CONSIDERSTION, HAUNTED, poetry on February 16, 2011 at 10:02 PM


Ring a-round a-rosie

Pocket full of posies



We all



Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I should die before I wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take

God Bless Mommy, and Daddy, Grama and Grampa….

There was a turtle by the name of Bert

Bert the turtle was very alert;
When danger threatened, he never got hurt
He knew just what to do…

He’d duck!


And cover!




He did what we all must learn to do


And You

And You

A N D   Y O U !

[bang, gasp]

Duck, and cover!

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning.

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a…



So is the equal poise of this fell war.

Compilation by Kimberly Cox, © 2011

GidgetWidget™ All Rights Reserved for content posted via Twitter and Tumblr Platforms

What’s The Most Poignant Memory You Carry From Childhood?

In 21st Century Culture, Daily Musings, Excerpts of Prose, FOR YOUR CONSIDERSTION, NEW! on February 9, 2011 at 6:22 PM

Oooooo….that is tough. I think it’s coming outside on a warm spring day to see my father in his white t-shirt and khaki pants pushing the lawn-mower in our backyard. The National Anthem was playing at the prep school across the street which meant a lacrosse game was about to happen. I just remember the way the world felt–electrified by a magic only children can sense–and I asked my father if I could go play with Matt, the little boy 9 months my senior, who lived in the house behind us. I ran across the backyard, past the swing set and two oak trees, opened the gate of the red fence separating the two neighboring homes and along the path to the side screen door. His mom was making her famous banana bread. She had beautiful, thick red hair. Matt was sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal. He wanted to show me the new He-Man action figures he got and we played with them while the banana bread finished baking. My mother came over with my little brother and then the five of us went to go watch the last half of the lacrosse game. Matt and I got to sit on the stone wall and play with our action figures, as we cheered on the local boys high school. Afterwards, we went back to our house and had a bar-b-que. Our parents sat around the table on the patio and talked while we played on the swing set and hammock. I got the idea to put the speakers of the stereo into the window and Matt helped me while Chris watched. Then we blasted the TOP GUN Soundtrack and ran around the yard until the sun set and we ate hot dogs. Afterwards, Matt, Chris and I played one of our favorite made-up games: Car Light Tag (we’d wait for a car to come down the street and then race to hide in the shadows before its headlights caught us.) We shared a happy childhood together and all have many memories like this one. Ask any one in either family, and we’ll all say the same thing: we are very lucky to know such a special time.

Home Movie, Hard Hat, Dressage Ribbons

"Don't use up the battery before my Walk-Trot, Daddy!"

Days passing…With a touch of rain…

In 21st Century Culture, Daily Musings on November 22, 2010 at 8:39 PM
Church of St. Sabina Gardens, Giancarlo, ROMA

Few churches in Rome display Pagan, Roman, Medieval and Renaissance architecture all together. The Church of St. Sabine has all elements, as provocative as the views from the terraces at the end of its Garden.

From Midtown Manhattan

By GidgetWidget


Monday, 6:00 PM (EST)

In order to get to Giancarlo, a hilltop neighborhood across the Tiber, I had to first meet Father Angelo at the Augustinium — Paulo ∆∆, St. Pietro, El Vatincano.

I awake early that morning, in time to visit with my fiancé before his drive to Cinecetta City. We breakfast in the sunshine, shaded by an awning, on the terrace of our Penthouse Suite at Hotel d’Inghilterra. Unusually warm for Rome in November, the waiter serves our espresso, coffee, fruit, mango kiwi juice, pastries, cold meat and cheese. In broken English he marvels at the weather and view. I laugh and say, “It truly feels like an Indian Summer, especially this morning with its crisp, blue skies.”

He smiles as I sign the check, asking where we were from, “New York City.”

“Oh,” he brightens, “you are an Obama!”

I answer as best I can, “Si, si….Grazie. Bella, multes belles, grazie. Alora, grazie millie. Prego.”

My love and I chat over coffee, enjoying the morning. By 9 AM, his car arrives and he leaves, kissing my cheek and lips. I find myself alone on the enormous, rooftop terrace. In a great Ancient City, Roma, I take in the view, soak in the light, the sounds, the smells, the breeze, the colors. I write some post cards, drinking coffee and munching melon slices.

The church bells ring out, announce the late morning. The wind carries them across the rooftops. From the Academie di Medici, the Piazza di Spagna, around the Fontina di Trevi, towards the Colosseum and beyond the Centre Venetia, farther past St. Pietro, I listen to many ancient tones and soft bells echoing all over Rome.

Academie di Medici

From the breakfast table, I could see the Academie di Medici.

Two giant seagulls (who I nicknamed Cassius and Casca) fly over, circling before landing. They caw-cry-caw. I look up and greet them see their giant webbed feet in silhouette, stomping above and across the huge awning. An SMS message arrives, “I am free. Please call. We go Giancarlo. Love, Angelo.” I call him back, eager to see my good friend, and we finalize arrangements to meet in a little over two hours. Enough time to freshen up, find out how to get from the hotel to Father Angelo’s residence on St. Peter’s Square and not be late. I leave within an hour.

The front terrace of the penthouse suite at Hotel d'Inghilterra, Piazza di Spagna

Draft in Progress….


© KHC, 2009/2010


In Daily Musings, poetry on November 1, 2010 at 7:06 AM

I needed a place to put the poetry, the short stories, the Musings at large. Too long, keeping them to myself, some things are meant to be shared.


What happened to the poems and how did they get so lost?

The poems

Scattered papers through the air

Churned by the busy street

In the rain she walked and thought, ‘there is nothing new to this at all…’

Scattered pages

Worthless poems, worthless words

Flying dramatically, diving and scattering

Who let go?

Who was last to let go?

Watching through broken glass

Forcing time to slow down enough to notice

Falling apart.


Light me a light

To break the shadows on the inside

Light me a light

To hit me softly under-inside



After the long days journey, the passing of another cold damp winter, the merging of time from past to present…. They stood on that street corner, looking at eachother in silence, eyes locked.

She took a step back off the curb, her face melting into a question.

His eyes never moved but his jaw locked in reaction…

Even in silence, the simple movements carried the communication.

The evening settled in around them.

And the world held its breath waiting to see who would move next.

Statues, these moments for statues,

holding in their seconds …. a sense for both of them,

that they were …. timeless.

Captured in the glow of the setting sun, preserved in twilight.


She was a wax figure

and he was a porceline doll…

As she began melting,

cracks began weaving a netting from the top of his head, down his body.

As she dropped in slow molasses lumps,

he finally shattered all in one instant.


Breaking the silence.


Burying the past with the present.

Announcing the arrival of night.

And purging the future.


Copyright 2008 By Kimberly Cox

Originally posted, 07-October-2009, 11:15

%d bloggers like this: