INCONCEIVABLY BLONDE....

Wait, Wha??? Isn't it supposed to be "Caroling, caroling, through the SNOW?!!"  Yeah, well, this is Christmas, "SO FLA STYLE," BAYBEE!!! Where we have Rudolph the Red-beaked FLAMINGO and COCONUTS roasting on a sunny beach, and where we string rows of lights on PALM TREES and go to the BEACH Christmas Day...where we have BRIGHT, not WHITE Christmases :)  Awww, I'm so sorry, they don't sell snow tires or window scrapers here--but we do have a nice assortment of boats, tarps, and you can always buy RAIN X to wipe across your windshield--that stuff is MAGIC, I tell ya..... Ahhh, but alas, I digress.... This Christmas I had to spend apart from my folks and my brother--mostly because of my mom's fragile condition.  I didn't like it.  Not one little bit! Instead of moping around, feeling sad and blue and sorry for myself, I opted to spread a little cheer to those who likely could use it MUCH more than I....to some folks in local nursing homes

As holiday shopping kicks up a notch with each passing day, folks tend to get a bit more stressed, watching their spending especially THIS year, "making those lists, checking them twice, gonna find out who's naughty and nice" :::thinking 'HMPH, BAH HUMBUG' as I unwrap my Emergency chocolate, take aim with my piece of coal, and chuck it at the trash bin in my office:::  After all, 'tis the Season, right? "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year...."  "Santa, Baby, just slip a sable under the tree for me, been an awful good girl." "Deck the Halls, 'Tis the season to be jolly--Fa-la-la-la laaaa-la-laaaaah-la-laaaaaaa", and all that good stuff.... OK--Yeah yeah yeah, that's great and all. Now please move a little farther so I don't peg you with my charcoal or candy wrappers.  Hey, I'm being NICE and not NAUGHTY--you gotta warning :) This year I just haven't had time to feel all "Christmas-i

I love listening to the First Presidency's Christmas Devotional, and I look forward to it every year.  It fills me up with that warm, gooey feeling, even if it's from a satellite broadcast.  Watching the Mormon Tabernacle Choir perform, catching glimpses of panned shots of Temple Square superbly lit up and decorated, completely blanketed in snow...awww, it makes me remember way-back-when, when I lived out there for a stint as a college kid attending BYU ::sniff sniff, getting a bit misty-eyed:::... I just LOVE IT! Listening to the First Presidency give their respective talks never fails to amaze me and marvel at the incredible power, simplicity, and love they convey in their words--each very different in their flavor; but, combined, make such a delightful spiritual feast of the sweetest flavor to my very soul. This year, my favorite talk was from President Uchtdorf, and one of his quotes especially hit me: "“If we look for the good, we can see this time of year wit

OK, first of all, I’m am amateur—I really feel like I have absolutely NO IDEA what I’m doing out of bed, let alone behind a car, a computer, a book, etc…. When I get to oogle on Google and muck around through the incredibly vast world of online publishing across this little blue planet we inhabit, it totally amazes and overwhelms me—not underwhelm, not whelm, OVERWHELM even.  Here’s why. You never know who’s reading what these days, nor who’s writing what. I’m not trying to scare anyone with Big Brother or Wiki Leaks conspiracy stuff; it’s just a fact of life.  Truly, people—readers, writers, performers, audiences—all across the world are on a LEVEL playing field, so to speak.  The virtual world is indeed your oyster. So, now more than ever, putting it out there is becoming more and more important—but how you put yourself out there needs to be just as varied as the multiple platforms out there.  Someone like myself, who is navigating the creative writing waters and exploring the

Packing up leftovers, licking the spoons of their savory sausage-appled-and-sagey stuffed goodness-- Oooh, did you taste this?! Scraping remnants of recipes collected through the years together. Small and simple. Kept it small and simple this year. Enjoyed more easy moments full of food and family. Peaceful. Good.  Car keys tucked into nooks and crannies with time to spare until kickoff, gentle laughs about the gravy stain on your new shirt—oh well. Grab another butter-baked roll to mop it up-- I won’t tell! Fetch me another roll of towels while I let the pans soak-- I’ll just buff up the trays before putting them away for next year. Did you happen to catch the score? Lounging in loaded down lazy-boys remotes slipping as body and mind decide between holding on to their piece of pie or to consciousness-- Hmm, so tempting, so warm…. Quiet dialogue floating amid the TV din. Doorbell—Come in! Make yourself home, grab a cold drink from the fridge and sit down

I did it again. Yes, ma’am, I sure did. Left the house again without my face on. Not quite like getting my game on, but a little like putting war paint on. Gearing up, getting ready for battle for the day, to face the world, dare it to squint, to smirk, to bat an eye at me the wrong way-- nuh uh, no way! Not today…. You heard me, I said “face-free,” that means no spackle, no cream, no base, no powder no shadow or dream of what I seemed to be, only yesterday-- just what I am.  And what is that? Well? I'm waiting.... Am I a woman, muse, wife, daughter, deep thinker, ruse to rile you up at night, unsung super heroine, a closet comedienne, professional picture- messer-upper? Voila—c’est moi!! Good enough to drive to work without accident or incident, unless you count the lookers-on who seemed to part the waters, so to speak, as I dared to bare all.  Of my face, that is. Nice try, though…. What, no cat calls? So!?  Whatcha lau

Holes in the ceiling tiles stare down at me, blank, zoned out, gape open at my utter lack of mental oxygen today tomorrow whenever.... myopically gulping for any last tasty tidbits clinging to the surface before, during, and after hours. Unheard of. Absurd.  Irrelevant to my frame of mind. Fluorescently buzzed, numbing thumb-tacked memos to my forehead-- What was it you said? You did say something, didn’t you? Or are mine the only lips I hear moving? Hmmm…. Written November 17, 2010 by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez ©2010 by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez

OK, I guess I had a blonde moment, no matter how artificially intelligent I might currently be (I recently wandered over to the REDHEAD side), LOL! I follow several folks on my Twitter account, one of which is someone I’ve long admired and respected, albeit from very far away—Mr. Roger Ebert. Back when I was in high school, my best friend and I loved going to movies, and we’d sit for hours afterwards discussing them, along with other important things like books, boys, and music, of course! We would fancy ourselves to be critics, believing that one day we could be famous critics like Mr. Ebert. Someday. Fast forward over 20 years….. Mr. Ebert has an online journal and his entry on his site on November 5th is titled “All the Lonely People.” It simply captivated me, and I had to read it several times and quietly reflect upon why, exactly, his words so moved me. I had to respond and let him know—something I’ve never done. However, I firmly believe that when someone touches your li

Standing in the checkout line, Humming and tapping to the muzak in time, waiting just to pay and go. Browse the fashion trashing tabloids and tasty artisnacks, looking over my loaded cart, putting stuff back that’s not on my list. Lady behind me’s all pissed about all my disgarded junk invading “her” space in line. HERS. Do you mind?! Hurry up, now, I gotta run, gotta get back home in time to fix  a little something for dinner.  I gotta life, you know, outside this store. I can’t wait here all day…. Just another minute, almost done, I’ll be home soon…. Fall back with my head on the pillow, trying to let go of the thing that won’t leave. The damn I.V. dug in my arm, dripping steady and warm, drowning my pain down the hall of my dream. Hmmm, seems pretty real, though-- It is just a dream, right? Did I imagine all the nurses browsing down the hallways of the patient rooms, like shoppers in the stores, checking, fluffing, holding clipboards,

Lights out, visitors gone, it’s just you and me, no phone, no TV. Just us girls.   Hush now, don’t worry-- I’m right here, and I’m staying. It’s all right, I won’t leave you. Get some sleep, now. I’ll be here. Let me grab my nail file, trim your nails, file them down just a bit, nice and round, nice and smooth.  Those little things make such a big difference. (We girls understand that.) Trusting me, letting go, letting me take your hand in mine-- Once, strong, quick and nimble… Now, trembling and feeble, weathered and weakened by pain. Rubbing lotion in to massage away the strain of the day. Those beautiful hands-- so elegant and graceful, writing and typing stories, covering glories and events through the years.  Stories I could only imagine…. Those very same hands held us as babies, helped others, cooked, cleaned and worked us into the family we are. Those same hands that wiped tears from my eyes, picked me up when I’d fall, hugged,

They say all roads lead to Rome. Ok, so…. What road leads to you? The You that you want, the You that you need, the You that you are already (and may not know it)…. Better be ready, at least have some idea of what makes you you , makes you tick, who you want to be and why, try to picture the path your life will lead.  Even so, how do you really know what your life’s road will be, what’s your destiny? Destination unknown? Doesn’t have to be…. What does it look like? Is it straight and narrow, or winding and curved? Is it paved or cobbled, or covered in dirt? Where does it come from? Where does it go? How does it travel? Too fast, or too slow? Is it the “Road Less Travelled,” or does everyone know? How far must you take it before you know? When you drive down the beach, Are you ready to meet The You that is waiting for you to arrive? Climb inside and sit back, inhale the salty, sunny breeze on your face, tickle the truth in this place,

I hate the D word, really, I do…. (If you see what I see, wouldn’t you, too?) Why do we dwell on the divergence, the diversity, the difference of life? D is for… Dirty Depressing Difficult Dull Doomsday Dumb-as-a-box-of- (but, alas, I DIGRESS)…. I don’t mean to get y’all DOWN-in-the dumps…. after all, we don’t have to live on the down side, do we…. Don’t get me wrong, now, I DO happen to know D is for… Divine Deity Delish Delightful, as it were. Well, DUHHH!!!! Ya big DUMMY! Are we not all of us created in God’s image? Male and female-- Doesn’t that mean we are all the SAME and NOT DIFFERENT ? Yet, “ Different ,” you say, “is good ,” you say, “is special ,” you say, “is set apart”— Well, I couldn’t disagree MORE …. Why do we break ourselves up from the rest of the group of humanity-- is it vanity, insecurity, or PRIDE? Why must we hide behind labeling others (like we label ourselves) for the comfort of ou

What am I wearing? Your voice in my hands gives them warmth— makes me feel the fan on my face. Gives them guidance. Makes me know the suck of your words driving my mind to lie back. So passive in passionate grope on the edge of the bed. Lips swollen moist at the thought of your mouth inside mine. What am I wearing? Your stare on my lips gives them wet-- makes me feel the crisp of the night on my back. Gives them strength-- makes me trust in the curve of your neck rushing my mind to lie back. So sated in promising thrust on the edge of the bed. Cheeks flushing hot at the feel of your legs wrapped in mine. What am I wearing? Your soul in my thighs gives them dark-- Makes me feel the chill of the room on my chest. Gives them reason-- Makes them know the soothe of your fingers gentling my heart to lie back. So cradled in unconscious shudder on the edge of the bed. Hair tousled, damp at the sight of your hand over mine. Written by Eliza Jane

Do you want to know what keeps me up at night, what makes my stomach tighten up, clench at the mere thought? Do you really want to know? Well it’s like this…. We work so hard to learn so much to be so much to do so much all in such a rush no time to blush grab a bite and go! But why, tell me why do we do “it” at all? (What is “it” anyway?) Tell me why. Do you know why? Well, do you? DO YOU ? Let me tell you something…. “Tell me,” you say. No time these modern days to sit down anymore, and share meal familial, staring, baring ourselves in the light of the real reality we’ve created, alone, isolated, bombarded by screen crawls, pop ups, sound bytes, downloads, all remote-controlled by our tweets and our socially-networked personas tucked nicely in the palm of your hand. Still don’t understand? Take a swig of that imported water while driving by smellified local lakes festering fish choked on phosphates, foaming mistakes of our

How far along am I? Hmmmm, I’m not really sure. Can’t seem to recall The exact moment the Fertilized thought took root, Anchoring in my womb. Which one are you talking about?  Was it 10 years ago… Wait, no…. How about last night, In three weeks? The day after tomorrow? If only I were pregnant like this every day. I’d pay good money just for that. Really. I’m not joking. I’m not crazy. I’m not showing. I’m not moody. I’m just growing larger and larger, expanding horizons, if you will…. I don’t have morning sickness, not like you think, not yet, not really.  I get poetic poisoning when I take too long to float, to think, to center, to write all the flutterings down The pieces try to drown me, Weighing down my heart, swelling with the full force of feeling enlightened tickling the walls of my mind…. Kicking me softly into here and now, Rubbing my tummy absently, Humming lullabies to the creative little cooings inside, open me wide to the sound of

 If y’all are in the Broward County area on Friday, September 24th, from NOON til 6pm COME ON DOWN To the 2nd Annual Lauderdale Lakes Health Awareness Day Sponsored by United Way of Broward County (where I work n stuff) and the American Institute 3190 N. State Rd 7, Lauderdale Lakes, FL 33319 Call 954-777-0083 for more info Featuring SPECIAL GUEST Lorenzo “Ice Tea” Thomas! FREE Mini-Physical Exams and Health Screenings FREE Health Care Workshops FREE Financial Workshops Come on, ya KNOW ya WANNA.... Click on the link below for flier and more info: http://www.unitedwaybroward.org/index.php?src=events&srctype=detail&category=UWBC%20General%20Events&refno=3735

I love lava lamps. Gotta love 'em. Always have. Maybe I'm just a product of my generation…. So simple, so GROOVY, so ebb and flow, letting go Of all the stuff that Clogs the soul…. Besides, sometimes I feel like embracing my "inner amoeba," ya know, and just stare off into space, drifting in and out of businesslike relevance. A "lava" state of mind, if you will…. It's hard not to smile, just for a little while, so hard not to be entranced by all the positive, glowy warmth of the float-drift-and fall into the cozy, enthralled by that illuminated blob in a tube. Stretching, reaching, spreading that gooey bit of happy and peaceful, not giving a damn about deadlines or gossip, or "what do they think" Don't THINK Take a break, back away from the desk Take a deep breath, and just drink of that rich, tubey, trance-like you'll be. Lovin' that free Kick back, and be…. Soak up that feeling of ooh la la lava. Don't bother me, I'm get

I'm a shield and protection, my choice and election unsure-- Yet, it Pure, purely burns inward, turns. Lesson learns me to FEEL...BE... CONSUME all the air in the room-- It's too much, much too soon…. Why right now? I'm not ready. But, HOW? How to harness this truth? And I stand, taken in, with a spin. It begins…. Knowing grin-- I can't win. Full of sin Pumping thick in my blood…. So I stand, Lock my love into. Me. Gaze above…. And it's real, really there in my flesh, tries to tear, Bear me up deep inside through my Spirit's divide. Promptings strong, wake my night-- I must now Testify, bare my soul, Choose the Right by the Light of the Moon. Shadows soon catch the tune of my thoughts. Make, immune me from turning away— So I stay at the Front And I pray, Pray my feet give no way-- Flex my faith In the Dawn of the Son. Feeble crust of His Bread Tastes pure hope in my head. Soaks me up to the

I lie awake at night, wonder how you are, knowing you're so far away. So I fluff up my pillows, and I tug at the covers. Tomorrow's another day…. And I pretend that I'm smiling-- that I really believe it-- when I wake with the taste of your smile on my tongue. I walk through the house at night, wonder where you are, knowing you're too far away. So I sit in the kitchen in a tank top, sip cocoa to the ticking of the clock. Tomorrow's on its way…. And I make like I'm laughing-- that I can't wait to feel it-- when I wake with the warmth of your laughter in my ear. I go to sleep at night, wonder how you are, knowing you're just far away. So I scratch my dog good-night, and I stretch in the cool bed. Tomorrow I'll be okay…. And I laugh, 'cause I'm smiling-- and I just can't believe it-- when I wake with the smell of the sun on my face. (Written by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez 10/20/96, published in 1997, rev. 7/22/10

Why do I get quiet time? I'm not a child, you now. Won't go sulk in the corner because you don't wanna deal with it, because you lost a voice for what's inside, because you scared yourself and don't know what to do with your sticky pizza fingers anymore. Why do I get time out? It's not fair, you know. Won't go write rules down after class because you don't wanna feel it, because you lost the strength to do what's right, because you psyched yourself out and don't know what to do at recess anymore. Why do I get nothing? I'm still here, you know. Won't run home and cry to Mamma because you don't wanna fix it, because you're afraid of letting go again, because you shut yourself off and don't know what to do after school anymore. Why don't they teach stuff like this at school?   (Written by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez)

I still smell you driving home, all alone, and I smile, 'cause you're still with me-- apart, yet, a part of me in my shirt, my skin, my hair-- you're not really there, yet I feel you stroking my hand, my back, my face as I grab the clutch at the light in a blush. I can taste you in the breeze on the road in the dark, and I know that you're with me you're so far away, but I hear your heartbeat goodnight pulling up to the house. I turn the key. I still see you in my bed, through the night, in my dreams, and I smile, 'cause you're at home with me. (Written by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez 4/9/98, rev. 7/21/10)

Don't want too much-- you'll never get enough, left wiping away that lingering stale from your mouth with the back of your hand once the haze clears. Don't think too much-- you'll never know enough, left stretching away that lingering yawn from your limbs with the spread of your arm once the day breaks. Don't work too much-- you'll never do enough, left rubbing away that lingering dream from your eye with the tip of your pinky once the cover falls. Don't give too much-- you'll never be enough, left rinsing away that lingering shock from your heart with the splash of your tears once the alarm goes. Written by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez

Use my head to spill out yours-- to let emotion run its course along my lips, inside my mouth, you shake and sweat with burn of truth. Use my heart to strengthen yours-- to let it cry and reach for more against my skin, deep down inside you cuddle close-- in me you hide. Use my soul to soothe with yours-- to keep those dreams and make you sure, amid the love all through my veins, you sleep in peace, smiling my name. (Written by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez originally 9/26/96, rev 7/21/10)

Words never said. Could never choke them out. Bricks biling up at the base of my throat. Funny how the wall fell-- don't need to hide anymore. Flowing through free-- weightless, alive in my veins, sizzling my tongue, filling trembling mouth with oneness of being. Feelings never shown. Could never strip them bare. Winds whipping out at the backs of my legs. Funny how the blanket fell-- don't feel cold anymore. Shining through free-- glowing, hot in my mind, searing my skin, filling tearless eyes with oneness of knowing. Bodies never touched. Could never hold them back. Rains driving deep into the strands of my hair. Funny how the clothes fell-- don't feel naked anymore. Seeping through free-- glistening, washing my face, licking my heart, filling waiting arms with oneness of having. I can say them now. I can feel them now. I can touch them now. Funny how things happen…. (Written by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez 7/20/96, rev. 7/26/10)

And I sit. And I scrunch. And I smooth. And I brush a loose hair from my face in the salty breeze. And I sit. And I stare. And I sigh. And I laugh a tear back from my eye in the lapping waves. And I sit. And I stretch. And I sprawl. And I make shell constellations in the midnight sand. And I stand. And I shake. And I smile. And I leave beach-covered sandals in the velvet moonlight. (written by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez 6/15/97, rev. 7/26/10)

These covers hide me in my bed-- I dig for shelter, bury my head, biting into all your "saids" unsaid. These covers hide me in my bed. These covers claim me through the night, caress and cradle-- hold me tight, stroke my heart-- it's taken flight. These covers claim me through the night. These covers make me so complete, they smooth my sane and trap your heat-- your soft familiar wraps my feet. These covers make me so complete. These covers with me, pour into you, I breathe your heartbeat. I feel it move. Hot, woven whispers whet me through-- these covers with me, uncovering you. (11/23/99, rev. 7/22/10)

In my arms you can stay as long as you like, so I can rock you gently to sleep in the sounds of the morning, cradling your head from all worry and care as my heartbeat soothes, rhythmically, quietly, back…and forth…. lines vanishing in trusting slumber in the crook of my love. In my arms you can stay as long as you need, so I can hold you so soft in the hush of the night, unfold your mind into the blanket of me. Keep you warm, safe from harm as you dream of the soon to be. Lullaby, my darling, so you can be strong enough and trust me enough to bear up your burdens. In my arms hold me tight, comes the light as you sleep, back and forth, fluff-up your soul and know WE BELONG. In my arms my heartbeat--a song you can feel; smooth away fears, nuzzle up to my soul and dream in first rays of our morning. Taste tomorrow's sweet taste on my skin, smell our new life begin-- where you belong, my dear love, hurry back to your home i

I wrote these two poems before actually seeing my husband, before meeting him face-to-face…. Yes, more than 10 years ago, falling in love online wasn't quite the norm as it has grown into being today. In rereading these little poems today, on our 10 th Anniversary, I can honestly say my feelings have catapulted to a completely different plane of emotional and spiritual depth. Reflecting back on how crazy I was back then, taking a huge "leap of faith" in Falling in love with someone sight-unseen, long-distance, across state lines And totally just trusting my heart and the Spirit which kept prodding me forward, I thank God each and every day that I trusted "in the Lord and leaned not into (my) own Understanding" because He truly blessed me with one incredible man, my dearest and truest friend and companion and lover. He blessed me with a love so deep and true that healed me, brought great peace to my heart and soul, and clicked my other half snugly