Tuesday, September 2, 2014

GIVING and TAKING (Part 1--Giving)

Native of the Philippine Islands, Ces Adorio lives in the United States, and is my most favorite artist (she will tell you this is true!) Ces owns a Blog on which she has freely posted the results of her most unusual talents, drawing, painting and squiggling and writing.

 HUMPTY DUMPTY by Ces Adorio


The story begins, "Who ever heard of a violin-playing egg?" Well, I don't recall anyone ever declaring that eggs do NOT play violins. 

Humpty Dumpty was born deaf (no ears!), yet his dream was to be a concert violinist, to bring sounds of heaven to listeners, to lift people from doldrums of everyday life to a higher level of enjoyment, appreciation, meaning.  

Playing the violin looked easy. So Hump attended a symphony concert and sat in the front row by violin section and watched carefully. Then he bought a violin and bow. Hump (nickname) practiced all week what he'd seen, and it was good. 

Thousands of people rode to his estate, and after hearing him "play",  exclaimed he had technique and sound of Itzhak Perlman. He played always the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto--perfectly. Nobody needed lessons. HA!

One day, tired from rolling around the lawns, he sat on a wall to rest a bit. As history was being compiled, Hump fell off the wall, was being strewn about, broken into many pieces.

Investigating Detectives wondered at what they later found in his home--a violin bow, its hairs soaked with greasy soap--so Hump, in silence, could appear as if he were playing. But "No-ears" Hump was only making the motions. Nearby was his music center, a DVD playing LOUDLY the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto by soloist Itzhak Perlman--

Forever after, audiences claimed that Hump played violin far better than Itzhak could ever dream of playing.

--Steve E

NOTE:  "TAKING" (Part 2 of Giving and Taking) will be posted in a couple days...please come back for it--you won't be sorry

Monday, September 1, 2014

MARIA (and the art of violin playing)

The following actually happened to me about 15 years ago while "entertaining" in the Alzheimer's Center of a Naples, Florida Retirement Community  

Google Images (Sorry, Cannot find attribution)


Only her pale breathing told of life. 
A very old--but not aged--
beautiful head permanently bent
had closed completely that space 
between eyebrows and breast

Belted in a chair with wheels, 
she no longer sensed 
what, where, how, when, or why.
Communication to or from her brain
might have been evermore lost.

I knelt on carpeted floor, 
arranged myself so to gaze 
into her face. Nothing there. 
Talent with which I'd been blessed,
I felt a strong need to share.

An aide said, "Take your violin and play
for those who can hear, enjoy, rather than
one locked away inside herself forever."
Truth is, I lost the strength to raise 
myself up from carpeted floor.

The room hushed! Softly and slowly I played a
sweetest Ave Maria--Holy Mary!
Sitting on that carpeted floor,
I looked (up) into those now-blue eyes 
and caught the beginnings of a smile.

While playing, I stared and smiled at her. 
Tears began to flow, hers and mine...onto thick carpet. 
Later someone told me that she had not responded 
to ANYTHING or anybody for many days.
She began to finger her gold-chained cross

It was a God day which I shall NEVER forget.

Steve E

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Starry Nights - Mag 234

Please check: http://magpietales.blogspot.com

Starry Night by Alex Ruiz

Artist, in field 
stood, as if affixed.
About to devote, yield
himself to posterity. 

So alone, he mused...

Forever it seemed, I
lived in reality
only to at last "see"--
and this night--
faced the Universe...


Great circles of reality
lived always nowhere else...
but within my soul, my self. 

While I'd been looking out,
yes, apart, away from--
Now I am a part OF 
all which ever created.

This scene I MUST show
to my brother Theo,
(named for "God" Who lives.)

("But HOW?"
 "Paint, man! PAINT!")

In manner described as Starry Night--
He oil-spread circularity Eternity,
ALL being such colorful ONE.

Beauty Unbelievable
for you and me akin
for truth within.


Saturday, August 23, 2014


NOTE: The following are my thoughts and writing, pure 
and simple.  IN NO WAY do I speak or pretend to speak 

for the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous.  Steve E.


Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday
July 2, 3, 4, 5, 2015

"Why do night-lights 

shining like stars?
Maybe...'cause they are!"

June 10, 1935, a man named Bill waited for the other--his host--to return from a long day away.  
It was hot.  

Hoped Dr Bob's return wouldn't become a drunken scene.  
It did not.  

Earlier that morning in Akron Ohio, Dr Bob had his last final drink of alcohol, then went around town taking care of business.  

As time--and years--passed, this began to be recognized as the birthday of Alcoholics Anonymous.  So, we now "see" two men who--not long before, were helpless, hopeless alcoholics-- found that by helping each other, they could stay sober.  One thing true then...and true today, the only way they could live productive and happy lives, was to help another--others--by giving away the gift they'd received

They sought alcoholics ("Alkies") who had an honest desire to stay sober.  More years, amazing growth, a God-Spirit-inspired book (Alcoholics Anonymous) brought me (and you readers) here--now.

God willing, in July 2015, approximately 80,000 people will descend on Atlanta, Georgia from all the world.  AA is found in 170 of the nearly 200 independent countries around the globe.  On the final day, between 100-150 of those countries will be honored and represented by recovering alcoholics, carrying the flag of their homeland.  All across the stage they will proudly stand --and I will be there to take a selfie, with THAT background!! HA!

It'll BE Alcoholics Anonymous 80th Anniversary celebration! 
PEACE and LIGHT...and LOVE, all my friends.
Steve E

Tuesday, August 19, 2014


 Don D and Steve E with 
first Motor Scooter 1949
Photo by Norma (Mother!)

God sends me friends,
unseparated Parts of Himself
to share, to care,
(and I was told)
to be aware.

Human nuggets, pure gold,
not for shelf-keeping,
dusting, burnishing
now, then, and when...
Precious souls!

Friends, God's bestowal,
carefully held in my heart
cherished, loved,
more, more, and more.

...as slowly older I grow

August 2014

Friday, August 8, 2014



Fly little bird,
Fly with the wind.
(Quoted) "if you don't,
you have sinned."

Wind is the law
And the law is just...
So...as winds blow
Must you also go?

Fly on silver wing,
and one fine day in
powder-blue sky, 
when other you meet, 
together you'll sing! 

Fly sweet birds, where
Winds have not chose--
Then as you oppose,
Have you surely sinned?

INTO the wind, YES! 
Fly if you must
Because you truly,
Completely trust...

At last overcome by
Wonderful wonders of love.
Cavort on the beaches,
But one time gaze above

At white dove.
Which will be...

rev. 8/9/2014

Sunday, August 3, 2014




In unison steps 
and rhythmical stride
Morning, noon, and night, 
small armies of six or eight, 
washed shirts starched--

I shudder, thinking
the awesome power--
spirituality emanating
seamlessly, seemingly
from several clusters
of little soldiers 
stepping in cadence
over heated pavements

Each few along the way
a parasoled officer leads,
perspiring in heat on concrete...
onward to grandmother's house,
where no enemy waits to meet.

Pushing, pulling 
wagons, baskets, buggies.
Groups of little ones
follow in filed rank, 
those taller. 
At head of all,
a "general" carries 
"wounded" young vet.

...and of that general?

why, it's none other than
she, who they all call "Mother!"

NOTE:  People who have moved here from other countries 
astonish me with their loyalty, devotion, togetherness
and friendliness. Whole extended families tread the
 sidewalks mornings and evenings and smile happily.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014



Dreams borrowed from god of night,
next day trying in vain to recall
so to excite with my pondered write

Straining to replace what's melted away:
might they together "save the day"


Wheels of my mind...HALT!
STOP! in your suddenly meshing grind
In frozen moment, press Shift, Control, Alt...
realize what was lost was not mine.

Allowing thoughts of serene peace and love
to silently meet with me at the first of light.


I performed a Google "image search", could not find source...

Wednesday, July 9, 2014


From Magpie Tales


In old church I prayed, sitting solemn on my ass
Young man came in...reflected in the glass
Walking--in a hurry
Holding something furry
Said, "Please take this kitty, while I offer mass..."

--Steve E
Posted for Magpie Tales

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Please say, "HE LED A COLORFUL LIFE"...

IMAGE: Photographer Marcy Purdy

Hans Christian Andersen

In the little town there is much festivity:
they are holding a wedding there with dance and play.
To the happy man, the wine sparkles so red;
but the bride looks like whitewashed death.

Yes, dead she is to him whom she cannot forget;
he is at the feast but not as the bridegroom.
He stands among the guests at the inn,
stroking his fiddle cheerily enough.

He strokes his fiddle, his hair turning grey.
The strings resound: shrill and loud;
he presses it to his heart, paying no heed
whether it breaks into a thousand pieces.

It is quite hideous when one dies this way,
his heart young and still striving for joy.
I cannot and will not watch any longer!
It will make my head spin.

Who are you, with your fingers pointing at me?
O God - graciously protect us
from the madness that may overwhelm us.
For I am myself a poor musician.