Month: October 2020

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Coffee and Contemplation: National GOE Day

The Sunday of the first full weekend of October is National GOE Day. Growth. Overcome. Empower. This national holiday encourages people to support safe spaces for healing and connection for those who have been victimized by abuse and trauma. Art is often encouraged as a tool to help those who have suffered from abuse and trauma to heal and recover. I started this blog to help share my story and my art; my writing. It is through writing poetry and fiction that I’ve been able to heal and learn more about myself. And I encourage others to do the same. It doesn’t matter how good you are or how long you’ve been doing it as long as you enjoy it. 

The My CARE Initiative founded National GOE Day. The program began on May 15, 2015. I continue to find programs like these as I search for new topics for my blog. Even though I have come a long way, finding these new things helps me heal a little bit more. The rest of my life will be a continual journey towards healing and recovery. And along the way I discover new creative expression and strengthen artistic skills I have with my writing. Today is a good day to grow, overcome, and empower.

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The Final Days of Edgar Allan Poe

On October 3, 1849, Edgar Allan Poe was found lying outside Ryan’s Fourth Ward polls in Baltimore, MD wearing clothes that were not his own. He was semiconscious and described as being in ‘great distress.’ He mentioned the name of an acquaintance of his who lived nearby. He was then taken to the Washington College Hospital where he died a few days later. There were many rumors surrounding his death and what he was doing during his final days. Many said he had been drinking. Others claimed he was picked up by thugs, liquored up, then taken to different polling places in different clothes to vote multiple times for one candidate.

He had traveled from Richmond, VA about a week before. He was on his way to Philadelphia, PA for an editing job. In Richmond, his physician said he was not well and should stay a few more days before traveling. He declined. He took his physician’s walking cane by mistake instead of his own. He had lost his luggage which was found several weeks after his death. His fiancé had said he seemed ill. This was why he met with his physician in Richmond. This illness is likely the cause of his death. Baltimore had an epidemic of Cholera in the Summer of 1849 and many believe this was the illness that claimed Edgar Poe’s life.

Poe’s funeral was held one day following his death and was described as “cold-blooded” and “unchristianlike.” Only seven people attended. Poe’s mother-in-law discovered his beloved tortoiseshell cat Catterina dead shortly after learning of Poe’s death. Learn more about Poe at Biography’s 13 Haunting Facts About Edgar Allan Poe’s Death. Celebrate Poe this week by reading his stories and poetry. It will get you into the spooky season. Read it with friends and have an E.A. Poe appreciation party.

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Hellpets – Part 1

            “Who’s a precious little baby? Who’s the sweetest kitty?”

            Old woman I will end you.

            “Meow meow. Meow meow.”

            Get out of my face Hag!

            “Oh! Duchess Minerva Skimbleshanks! Don’t be naughty!”

            I will bite your finger off.

            “You sit there on the chair and think about what you’ve done.”

            The only thing I’m thinking about is how happy I’ll be when this assignment’s over. You are, by far, the worst human I’ve ever watched over. You don’t even know magic. You can’t use tarot cards. Burning sage in people’s homes doesn’t make you a witch.

            “I’ve never heard you meow so much Duchess. You sure are a chatter box this morning.”

            Sit on a cactus Fustilug.

            “Oh my. I’m feeling a bit flushed. I better get some water.”

            Please stop telling me everything you’re thinking.

            “Oh. Something…doesn’t feel right. I better…have a sit down.”

            Is it happening? Don’t tease me old woman. And with the shattering of glass, she is down. I didn’t think you would ever croak. Enjoy Hell. Say hit to Carol in HR.

            I’m a Hellcat. I was born from the fires of Hell. I work as a familiar to humans. I watch over them until they die and make note of any magic abilities they have. Most humans have no magic. And morons like the corpse on this kitchen floor think they have magic when they don’t.

            And my name isn’t Duchess. It’s Haura. I can’t communicate with humans to tell them my name, so I have to put up with whatever they call me. This old woman was more irritating than any other I’ve been around. Maybe I’ll have time to eat some of her body before my manager shows up with my next assignment. Damn! Someone’s at the door.

            “Mom, are you home? I brought you some bagels from this new bakery near my office. Mom? Oh, hello Duchess. Pst pst pst.”

            Like mother like daughter. I hate your whole family.

            “Do you know where mommy is? Is mommy home?”

            I despise baby talk. Please stop.

            “Maybe she’s out for a bit. Let’s make ourselves a snack. Oh my God! Mom? Mom!”

            Sometimes I think humans believe screaming and crying will reverse death.

Read Part 2