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muMs is an award-winning New York City based Poet and a member of the Labyrinth Theater Company.


muMs the Schemer ===> Schemer: fiend, foe, friend, fear, /swallower of your fear, /blasphemer, /dreamer…. /to hold, to have, to be in a condition akin to, to victory he prevails! /A mathematical or philosophical diagram representing the astrological aspects of the planets, emotions and intellect on scales, /teller of your tale /in a letha-phorical outline, /a concise examination crafty and secretive in sign, /a systematic and organized chaotic plot. /I am muMs the schemer and you, are not. ===> The first ‘m’ is lower-cased /concerned with race /and small manipulative matters of that sort: /the things in our face /that bleed into our heart. /The ‘u’- also small- leads me to look to the sky, walk there the edge of a shore equating to particles of sand, stars, the moon. To be under all that which is bigger than me lead’s to the second ‘M’ capitalized for the manipulation /of that that from which all shall begin /and again /from when /we least expect. /The ‘S’ is the trick: the hush of it all. /The control over what we discuss, beckon or call /or plural to represent the many that know /or just that the path is a windy road? /No matter, it also is small. ===> muMs, the schemer and echo-er of it all.

welcome to a new day --goRealer

Friday, May 23, 2008


This is the nest that some really stealthy birds built above my mother's porch light. These unseen birds built this thing three times before my mother got tired of taking it down just to wake the next morning and see it again. "Just let it be ma, the eggs will hatch and then they'll move on"(hopefully).
This nest is pretty intricate. It’s made of mostly twigs and leaves and is pretty sturdy. Where did they get the idea to be able to do that? I mean I did pay attention in science back in elementary school and I do understand a little bit about nature and evolution and stuff like that but to think about it at it's very basic... it's kind of fascinating. At the very least they put their little bird minds to it and figured it out. And judging from the frustration my mother was having, they were pretty determined as well. I bet neither of these birds complained when they came to see that their work had been destroyed and had to start from twig one again. It was just something they were born to do, this is the place they chose to do it and by golly it was going to get done. I pray for that type of will power. Now when I sit at my desk and think of all the other things I could be doing other than writing, like watching the View or Law and Order or sleeping or just complaining that I don’t have any inspiration, I take a look at this nest and suck it up. You go little birdies, thank you.

Here are the eggs that were layed. I found out that they are Robin's eggs.

These are the little birdies just after they hatched.

The birds are growing. I see the Robins bringing them worms every morning. One of them didn't make it though. Early one morning my mother found one of the babies dead on our front stoop. It gave her quite a shock. Evidently it had fallen from the nest. I only see one chick in the nest now. There were three eggs. I don't know what happened to the third but I have high hopes for the survivor.

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