I See


(Caves of Hercules)

Been to London

Been to France

Traveled by Train through Spain

Passing Sunflowers in the Rain

Transfixed by island of Es Vedra
Sirens of the Sea

Rode camels in the desert

Sit in ruins of mammoth caves
of Myths and Hercules Legions engraved
at times secluded by the tide

Walked the maze of streets
Following white feathers

Medina’s filled with spice and trinkets

Smelled the Moroccan Rose with Jasmine entwined

Views of Gibraltar from the vine filled terrace
Snow capped Rif and Atlas Mountains

Sipping mint tea from Baba’s Cafe
Smoking Kif and Hashish

My ever watchful mother’s eye on a two-year old
with wanderlust

Moments on Polaroid confiscated
Of this special place and time

Prose by

2Cynthia_Sig_Aqua copy

Tiny_Tiny_phoenix Phoenix  (Cynthia J. m ART z)



(Mystical island of Es Vedra)

Popular myths surrounding Es Vedra include that it was the home of the sirens and sea-nymphs who tried to lure Ulysses from his ship in Homer’s Odyssey, and the birth place and holy island of the Phoenician goddess, Tanit.


Sea Oats


© Cynthia Martz 2013

Sea Oats

The recesses of my mind
linger on the sounds of wind in the trees
I close my eyes.
I am warm on my blanket in the sand

Reminding me of days in Fall at the beach
Sand dunes drifting and piling up like snow avoiding the sea oats that protect them

The coolness of the air and the salty sea
Fresh scents that come and go

whiffs of memories on the boardwalk
popcorn, candy apples, freshly baked pretzels, hot dogs and fries

Fading as the wild wind carries it

Like a teenagers first kiss

Lingering memories brought back to life

The Band plays on “under the boardwalk”

© Cynthia Martz 2013

Tempered Memories


Mama’s Dollies

© Cynthia Martz 2013

In a post earlier I mentioned how I was the kind of Scorpio that stung others for the thrill of the sting. It hurt me in hide sight. It damaged family relationships and relationships I was involved with emotionally.

My heart couldn’t or would not see the harm I was instigating.

The only thing I thought about was getting even, that no one was going to get anything over on me. Over the years I put myself totally in the middle of situations that could and indirectly alter my existence.

I just had the attitude “Whatever” and “Anyway the Wind cares to blow is fine with me”

In actuality I was an entity unto myself. I cared only about Me, Me,Me.  A selfish and conceited way of life because I felt so  not normal. My upbringing left me without friends unless they were of the same religion.

I became a loner. That has stuck with me throughout my life. I make friends easy enough, but holding  them goes haywire. I am of the assumption that I do not need the crap.

Listening to Jodi Arias testify I can only shake my head and think how easily that could have been me.

I had low self-esteem. I entered into toxic malfunctioning relationships knowing full well they could never last. I attracted weak because I appeared strong.

This has been an ongoing scenario.

The problem in all this was I gave my all. I loved the person, and did not care about how I felt.

The abuse (physically and emotionally) would  begin. I gave into there will at the downfall of my heart.

I stayed many years past the crucial, dangerous points where I could and should have thrown in the towel. One way or the other I was addicted to the lust, the drama. Having someone show me attention in any form seemed so important to me at the time.

MY Temper Tantrums

I remember throwing the bat at …., I could have killed her and smashing that girl into the brick wall at Yellow Springs Elementary because she called me ….. Fartz.

Lord help some someone if they had the nerve to piss me off.

As far as ….. goes he went and got the butcher knife. I got it away from him and luckily he had a heavy sweater on. It was a chilly day November 7 th 1979.

I remember how it felt too me when I stabbed him, and I remember pulling it out and throwing it.

When the police came they retrieved it as evidence and it had a good bit of blood on it.

…. had passed out somewhere on South Street trying to get to his home.

…said he heard on the Scanner that a man was running down South Street with a knife protruding from his back, that was an untruth.

He was taken to the hospital and as law requires reported the incident.

In the mean time I turned myself in and was released pending his outcome. They said if in fact he died from the assault I would be charged with murder.
I was charged with assault with a deadly weapon.

I got a lawyer. With his history of abusing me and stalking me the court agreed that I should leave the area and have no further contact with him. They even sent me to a Psychologist and an Abuse Seminar.

Instead we started back up and it wasn’t until April that I finally left and moved to Salt Lake City.

That’s strange about what …. told you about the annual farm butchering, if I had been three I doubt I would have the memory.

This thread originated from this post~

Vintage Farm Revisited

Oh well, memories differ. Individual Perspectives and Perceptions I suppose.
My foot is swollen again. I do nothing differently, one day it is fine and the next two I can barely put weight on it.


From ….
It was a hammer that you threw at the older …… girl. We were building a ‘fort’ next to the creek and the two of you got into it.  The next thing I knew, the hammer whizzed past her head, and it shocked her and me. It came so close to her head !

That could have been a tragedy too.  I don’t remember you throwing a bat at ….. but I do remember the time you ‘accidentally’ hit our younger cousin… in the head with the baseball bat.
You know …., I think I grew up being very watchful and fearful of you.  Perhaps that is why we couldn’t get close when we were younger.

You would go into these sudden rages and they were very frightening.

Sorry, I think I said .., when it was …..  Is he the one they called the Crow?  Weren’t you doing drugs and drinking in those days as well?  You really did live on the edge didn’t you?  If you hadn’t gotten the knife away from him, he may well have been the one stabbing you!  Doesn’t it make you wonder why you chose men who would abuse you?  In some weird sick way, …. was always proud of you when stuff like this happened.  He would then rescue you from your misery.

It certainly did give me cause to think upon my past and come to an awakening that changed my entire prospective.

Repressed memories can be very damaging to a person’s life.  They stay suppressed and hidden because they are too painful to recall.

I found this while editing my backups. Something I wrote sometime ago, and a reply from someone whose words meant something too me. We still disagree on many memories. Perhaps, mine are as she mentioned flawed by my past addictions. Perhaps, but I do not agree with that revelation either.

My memories are just as I remember. It is how it was for me, not a dreamed up fiasco for a future book or screenplay.


Slow Mode February

20,098 Page Turners
104 followers Oh yea!

My blog will be 2 years old in October this year.

Slow Mode February.

Nothing pressing on my mind to blog about, writers lament I suppose.
This am I was missing the cushioned insert in my shoes I wear because of my ongoing  Plantar fasciitis  problem.
I assumed wrongly that one of the cats had treated it like a furry mouse and confiscated it too places unknown.
I found it in my other shoe sitting on top of its insert.

I am having my morning ritual. Chock Full of Nuts dark Satin java.

It is my morning wake-up.

Interesting tib bit. When my mama passed in 2004, I placed one of her small porcelain dolls she called “Marjorie” in an air tight glass container. She was wrapped in my mama’s scarf that smelled of her signature perfume (Chanel #5)
The doll’s face was peeking through.
I decided I wanted to smell her so I carefully removed the air tight top. I anticipated memories of the scent of her.
Let’s just say her essence had dissipated some time ago.


Today is Downton Abbey Marathon Day. I have several shows recorded and Sunday’s seem the perfect day to relax and enjoy them.

I have found a new toy. It is so easy and no worries with codecs and other problems with burning DVD’s and CD’s. I have too many coasters as is. Recordings that flopped so too speak.

Freemake is awesome. Last night I burned a DVD of some favorite UTUBES perfectly. No codec issues, no problems at all.
Big Kudos to the makers of this wonderful pain-free application.

Heart Day is almost upon us. I am baking Four of my specials this year.

My Older Sister


I received an email from my older sister asking me to go down memory lane and email her back the “Little Memories” I had of her and I growing up.

My reply:

I remember the fishing trip when you and I were in the back seat and dad stopped suddenly and that HUGE  fish-hook that he had in one of those pockets in the backseat embedded in your knee. How painful that must have been. I remember dad cutting off the tip with pliers and then to the hospital we went.

I don’t remember you cutting all my pretty blonde curls off when I was three. I do know Mama kept them forever in an envelope.

I remember going to the drive in as a family and there would be an accident and we would never make it.

Dad always stopped to help save people.

I don’t remember you riding the subways with us to Yankee stadium, nor you being at —- Cleveland’s.

I always went to the movies with —- and —- . There dad worked right next door to the Tivoli at Cannon Shoe Store. After school we would go to his job and he would give us money for the movies.We seen all the Sandra Dee and Annette Funicello movies. (A Summer Place) we watched it over and over.
We used to sit in the (Black Only ) section cause we thought they were the best seats.

Who would have thought?

I do recall you telling me to catch the spider in that dark, musky well at Gavers.
Mama freaked out. Those big water spiders were huge.

I remember as I got older you were always telling on me.

I do remember sled riding with you and making the ice crack in the creek when we stepped on it, and mama would get so upset cause our feet were always wet.

We were always frozen little warriors 🙂

I remember watching Howdy Doody with you. We would put that special plastic on the screen of the TV when they told us to and then it was like magic too us. We had a Howdy Doody pool at Gavers.

Mama would take us on long hikes up to the mountain stream. We would sit on the rock and have a picnic. Then we would throw our banana peels in the water and watch them float away. I lost a shoe in the the quagmire. It made some bubbles and disappeared. We thought it was quicksand.

We used to play with our paper dolls together and dress them all pretty.

I remember I was really into science projects and dad finally got me the invisible man. You thought it would be great to paint the parts, so we did. Dad was not pleased.

I remember making shadows on the wall in our bedroom we shared. We could hear the singing sisters from the hollow and we would get scared cause mama said they had died and there was no way we heard singing.

She said it was just the wind.

I remember going too that church on Dill Ave and getting trapped in the bathroom. The air was stuffy and we were so frightened. We couldn’t get the door open and tried getting out the window but it was locked. Everyone told us the door was locked from the inside but we didn’t lock it.

I remember coming to see you at your JOB. I was so proud that you were my big sister. The Keeper of the books.

I wasn’t home too much back then (Dill Ave) I hung with —– and —–  who mama did not like. Then of course there was my running off too Rockville w/ — and living with —  and —–. That’s when dad actually said I was not welcome home anymore and I had pulled that stunt once too often. That is when I moved in with — and his mom on Canberra. I was barely 18.

I remember I would leave with just a toothbrush in my back pocket.

I have often wondered a great deal the significance of my poem “Tin Roof”
Now, that I am older I can’t state with any positiveness that I know what really happened.

The words in my poetry do lead me too ask why that was on my mind?

The Poem Tin Roof”

If these walls could talk what would they say
would we hear the laughter,
see the tears
would we hear secrets
spoken in whispers
of days past
would we see our daydreams and imaginations
take flight into the night
would our dreams and nightmares come true
like they did in the rooms
the rain is falling,
tear drops on the tin roof
the tiger is trying to get through the window
when I wake there is blood on my arm
was it the torn and broken window screen,
what was I fighting


On July 31st 1924

Universe decided that Mr and Mrs would welcome a baby girl into their arms
They would love her dearly
She was a beautiful baby
fair of skin
with curly strawberry blonde hair
she was sensitive and kind
seeking knowledge about life’s secrets
she chose a path after all her children were born
it was what she said a narrow path
that many would not find
she was satisfied with this path
and never wavered
it separated our family in many ways
and yet today each of us have found our path
Realizing there are many paths leading to the “ONE”
Her “Truth” was not ours
We remember our parents love
as they welcomed each of us into their arms
Today as the full blue moon rises we know
The “man in the moon” still watches over all of us

© Cynthia Martz

Vintage Farm Revisited

All Photographs in this Gallery are the Property of Jenice Martz

Today I was thankful that I had been raised both frugally and lavishly. It taught me many life lessons. I can turn a dime and I can pinch one. The saying used to be a penny but you know inflation and all.

During my childhood we lived in a four room home with no running water and no indoor plumbing. It effected me. I was 12.

I can remember my mama making us rice and beans days in a row.
Turn that around and add a stroke of abundance.
My father was a hustler.
That entailed a hard day’s work or perhaps a win at the local pool
hall…My dad would say bring on the steaks.

I don’t remember ever going to bed hungry.I always was warm in the winter with two stoves to warm us. One was an electric gas stove, the other a kitchen wood burning stove.

I took nothing for granted because I knew of nothing better. The outdoors no matter what the weather was my refuge. Trees made to climb with nature designed limbs to get you to the top. 

Creeks to wade in during the hot summers and skate on in the frozen winters.

Perfect sled runs down hills and hills of freshly fallen snow packed by my Uncle’s snow plow and a drizzle of frozen rain.
Igloo’s of snow built into the side banks next to Grandma’s house. 

Croquet in the yard in the summer time with plenty of sweet Maryland iced tea to satisfy a thirst.

The smells of apple butter and apple cider being made at Butchering time. I can still see the huge vats of pig fat being made into cooking lard. The smoke wafting into the hot putrid air from the remnants of the slaughter. Preparing the humongous slabs of sugar-cured bacon and other parts too be cured in the smoke house.

The Good Old Days

Inside Out


This picture (Alexandre Laurin) brought back a bit of nostalgia.

[Note: Photo has no direct affiliation to this post and is being used for artistic purposes only]

How many of us remember sitting in a room like this ?

A place where we felt confined day in and day out. Five days a week.

School Days.

Thank goodness for the windows, where our minds could wander and we could silence the drill of whatever the teacher was projecting to us.

The knowledge we would need to survive what was waiting outside the windows.

Life, with IF always in the middle with all it’s twists, turns, ups and downs

Comparable to a favorite roller coaster ride at the County Fair

Everyday we are constantly learning, we never stop

School is in recess

We continue to play the game

Copyright ©2013 Cynthia Martz