#211

The only thing wrong with 
this photograph is that 
it should say tea instead of
coffee, because I drink 
many more cups of the 
leaves rather than the beans.

catherinenglish 07-30-2013

#210

At King's Cross Station,
the Brits make a small 
fortune taking tourists' 
photos with a Gryffindor's scarf,
faking the shove of a trolley 
through a real brick wall. 

catherinenglish 07-29-2013

#209

I remember happier days, 
two girls, 
full of smiles,
without a care in the world,
friends since 
elementary school,
both quietly observing
the world,
dreams of the future 
in their heads,
looking forward to 
their adult lives with joy.

catherinenglish 07-28-2013

#208

Chief Brokenrope made this for me,
and today, he died,
gone to join the Six Grandfathers
And Grandmothers,
becoming a part of the eternal
sacred hoop of his people.
May your journey be happy,
riding on the wind, 
wooping it up, "Hoka hey,
It is a good day to die."

catherinenglish 07-27-2013

#207

Rocks, moss and water
create a peaceful flow
on the banks of the Danube,
a quiet spot to rest 
as one climbs to the Citadel.

catherinenglish 07-26-2013

#206

Cemeteries in Athens
are sacred places,
filled with white 
marble memorials;
each pathway a bed 
of stone, pristine; it is 
where families gather
to sweetly tend 
the resting places 
of their beloveds.
A custom many Americans 
have sadly forgotten.

catherinenglish 07-25-2013

#205

I have seen Lady Liberty many times
and I never cease to be amazed at 
how many people board the Stanton Island Ferry
just for a free and quick pass by,
as if to wave, and say,
"I've seen the statue of Liberty." 

catherinenglish 07-24-2013

#204

So, here I am
at the Rock of Cashel,
still in awe 
that I drove 
a car in Ireland,
and made it to 
this sacred place 
in one piece. 

catherinenglish 07-23-2013

 #203

The sculpture immortalizing
Carl Lutz
isn't exactly easy to find
in Budapest,
but if you are 
persistent,
you will be in awe 
of its message.

catherinenglish 07-22-2013

#202

Nebraska sunsets 
are the most glorious, 
the view for miles 
atop a small hill, makes one
feel god-like, 
the view of the horizon 
a metaphor for 
the expanse of the universe.

catherinenglish 07-21-2013

#201

Words cannot describe how much
I will miss this holy place,
where I first conceptualized 
a sense of place,
the commitment to others
for a lifetime,
in a specific geographical spot,
sacred for thousands of years
to an indigenous people 
long before we came to the same conclusion.

catherinenglish 7-20-2013

#200

Only in New York City
can you find a gold 
T-Rex next to a fashion 
statement,
presumably 24 karat 
dinosaurs 
can sell anything, 
and I wonder,
"Whatever  happened
to sex
and beautiful women?"

catherinenglish 07-19-2013

#199

Imre Nagy's statue looks
toward the Parliment,
forever in bronze,
focused on the leaders,
ever watchful against
oppression, 
sacrificed his life for 
all Hungarians in 1958.

catherinenglish 07-18-2013

#198

Perspective shows just how
large the Parthenon is, 
a temple to Athena
expansive enough for 
many to worship a female 
deity, an idea I find 
rather appealing.

catherinenglish 07-17-2013

#197

We spent a lot of time in churches
and cemeteries but the reminder 
of the holy and the dead
serves an historical purpose;
never forget the atrocities of humankind,
to avoid the destiny of repetition.

catherinenglish 07-16-2013

#196

Some of these tenement 
buildings housed 
seven or eight people
in three rooms,
steamily unbearable in 
the summer months 
in the largest city in 
the world,
unbelievably courageous 
immigrants. 

catherinenglish 07-15-2013

#195

The Rock of Cashel
on a bright June afternoon
is gloriously heavenly
even if the scaffolding
diminishes its ancient beauty.

catherinenglish 07-14-2013

#194

I climbed Mars Hill, 
just like the Apostle Paul,
but I did not preach the gospel
to Athenians, but rather,
negotiated those very slick
marble steps and rocks,
fearing I would slip, fall
and crack my head open 
and bleed to death. 

catherinenglish 07-13-2013

#193

Although I am smiling,
the iron chair reminds 
me that it is normally empty,
a symbol of loss,
the extermination of Jews
in the Krakow ghetto,
whom Oscar Schindler
didn't save.

catherinenglish 07-12-2013

#192

This carving, a universal Babce,
squat, with a loaf in her hands,
a babushka on her head,
fat hands for fat dough,
kneading and kneading,
baked to perfection,
the way I love it, 
warm, with fresh butter,
melts in my mouth.  

catherinenglish 07-11-2013

#191

The Danube is not so blue,
but the hills surrounding it
are as plush green as I've ever seen,
and the villages along the train route,
each had a station agent who stepped 
outside as we passed who waved, 
a semi-salute,
dressed in his finest, dress pants,
clean white shirt, and military style red hat.

catherinenglish 07-10-2013

 #190

Even in Budapest they have
video monitoring of businesses 
and homes, 
so in any language,
Big Brother is watching.

catherinenglish 07-09-2013

#189

It came as a surprise to read
that the Lincoln Free Press 
in Lincoln, Nebraska
touched the lives of Germans 
in Hamburg and helped 
newly emigrated citizens
find their place in a new country.

catherinenglish 07-08-2013

#188

Each known victim in the graves 
of Budapest is commemorated
on a tiny steel leaf,
cascading in the form 
of a weeping willow,
the tree so beautifully 
preserved near the 
great synagogue. 

catherinenglish 07-07-2013

#187

The words resonate in this 
place of remembrance and 
utter sadness,
Jews buried in mass graves,
so many left unclaimed,
families who never knew 
their loved ones died in 
the streets of Budapest.

catherinenglish 07-06-2013

# 186

Each day, outside our hotel,

vendors began at the break of dawn,

setting up their booths,

fruit, fish, vegetables, and other odorous

scents, wafting in the air,

colors abundantly

shaping the day.

catherinenglish 07-05-2013

#185

Before we saw the Horse Show 
on a ranch near Kecskemet,
we drank to our health,
a shot of apricot brandy,
the fruit in abundant supply 
in Hungary, and made into
a lovely syrup for our 
dessert crepes at the end 
of the day.

catherinenglish 07-04-2013

#184

The bicycles and flora 
of Europe left me wanting
to plant flowers 
in every window,
ride my bike every day,
stop, smell
the flowers, soak up 
the sun and grow.

catherinenglish 07-03-2013

#183

The weary travelers 
returned to Nebraska,
time now to reflect upon
on what we saw, read, felt,
and generally observed 
for three weeks of study,
trying to understand why
people just like us,
left Europe for America.

catherinenglish 07-02-2013

#182

At the 9/11 Memorial
we got soaked to the skin,
torrential rains, caught 
out in the open air of the 
now tower-less plaza,
fitting it seems,
for a place where 
water flows 24/7.

catherineenglish 07-01-2013

#181

The Empire State Building hasn't 
changed much in twenty-two years,
a place the twelve-year-old John 
wanted to go, visions of King Kong
movies in his mind, wanting to look out
over the Big Apple, seeing what others
want to see, even a giant gorilla.

catherinenglish 06-30-2013

#180

I hated to say goodbye
to the Hill of the Muses,
the holy hill of poets,
writers and the 
divinely inspired,
their monument 
overshadowed 
by Athena's,
but whose words given
to a mulitude
have stayed with us,
a forever piece of figurative
stone.

catherinenglish 06-29-2013

#179

The Mediterranean Sea is all
I dreamed it would be:
clear, blue, and warm 
enough to turn my pale 
skin red in fifteen minutes,
browning later, a comforting 
reminder of the sunny day.

catherinenglish 06-28-2013

#178

The receptionist at our 
hotel said, "If you want 
to see the Parthenon, 
go to London,"
where British thieves 
deposited much of its
treasures in their museums.

catherinenglish 06-27-2013

#177

A turtle today reminds me of my 
friends, Karen and Ruth,
wise women who know 
the divine significance of 
the feminine tortoise,
moving slowing and steadily
through time.

catherinenglish 06-26-2013

#176

Our last day in Budapest 
was fittingly spent in 
the Jewish quarter,
commemorating the loss 
of so many of its citizens
during that darkest of times.

catherinenglish 06-25-2013

#175

You never know whom 
you may meet on a van 
carrying you to the Great Plains
of Hungary, ready for a horse show,
three course meal with Hungarian
goulash soup, and a crepe for dessert,
but how lucky we were to meet
our friend, "Liechtenstein." 

catherinenglish 06-24-2013

#174

I can't believe we climbed the steps 

to the top of the Citadel,

but it made me appreciate why 

the highest hill was an advantage 

against invaders.

catherinenglish 06-23-2013

#173
Budapest by night
is a beautiful city,
teeming with lights,
serene on the shores 
of the ever present
Danube, lulling us 
to its calm.

catherinenglish 06-22-2013

#172

On the summer solstice,
I relished the longest day
of the year,
reminded of Dad,
smoking and drinking,
enjoying the moment,
a lesson he taught 
me for a lifetime.

catherinenglish 06-21-2013

#171
Entering the namesake church 
of my ancestors, left me in awe
that they left:
built a small church
northwest of the village 
where I grew up,
hanging on to the remnants
of their distant past,
worshiping the same God
they left behind in Krakow.

catherineenglish 06-20-2013

#170

There is nothing finer in life
than meeting a former exchange student
for a beer garden feast near Munich,
reminiscing about high school days,
and catching up on her life and practicing English. 

catherinenglish 06-19-2013

#169

Ironically, it was London
where I rubbed an etching of 
Celtic design, wondering why 
the English now embrace something
so spiritually Irish.

catherinenglish 06-18-2013

#168

It is fitting that a princess of peace
is remembered by a soft flowing 
fountain, more like a stream,
rather than an overwhelming piece 
of phallic grandiose protrusion.
Rest in peace, sweet Diana.

catherinenglish 06-17-2013

#167

A torpedo sunk 
the ship that this propeller 
belonged to,
the Lusitania, sunk on 
May 7, 1915,
the U-20 hitting its target.

catherinenglish 06-16-2013

#166

Oh Liverpool,  you gave us 
so much more than the Beatles,
the art of so many talented
Irish people.

catherinenglish 06-15-2013

#165

Annie Moore must  have had a lot of faith

to take her children

in a small boat, 

across the cold Atlantic

in the midst of

storms and fear and no assurance

of making it nor a place to stay once

they arrived in America.

catherinenglish 06-14-2013

#164

I imagine my predecessors,
ancient monks, 
silent,
whispering their Psalms 
to God,
in the grandeur of this place.

catherinenglish 06-13-2013

#163

My first day in Dublin,
posing with the statue of the writer
who first introduced me to the city
with his short stories.

catherinenglish 06-12-2013