Tag: cemetery
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The four green fields blog4: An old cemetery & my Irish family
[A very creaky gate leading into an old cemetery. Photo is mine.] Suaimhneas Siorai Air ~~Old Irish Epitaph “Eternal Rest be Upon Him/Her” The green and rusted rotating gate made a noise that seemed more like a stifled scream of metal against metal. It pierced my ears. The harshness of the sound, under other circumstances,…
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Below The Equator IV: A Day at the Recoleta Cemetery/ Among the Serene, the violated…and Evita
[Abandoned poster display outside the wall of the Cemetery of Recoleta, Buenos Aires. The advertising is gone, but behind the wall, the city’s dead remain. Photo is mine] My biggest fear in life is to be forgotten. I cast my dreams aside to fulfill those of others. ~~Maria Eva Duarte de Peron (Evita) Readers, you…
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Breakfast in Marrakech/Dinner in London
[Trafalger Square, London. The National Gallery of Art in the background. A fast car in the foreground. A lion and a blue-lit fountain in the middle ground. Photo is mine.] Keep calm and go to London… The title above makes it sound like it’s a skip and a flip to make the three and a…
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A Silent Eulogy: Late But Heartfelt
Is it possible that a eulogy can take forty-one years to deliver? The dreaded answer is yes. I know because I spoke that eulogy…silently, silently so that only I heard the words. It was a rambling prayer over a heart-breaking death. I knew the young man who had died. In truth, I was with him…
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My Dreams Are Made Of Iron And Steel
I don’t dream the way I did in past years. I miss that because those nighttime adventures were something to behold. The visions of H. P. Lovecraft, Bram Stoker and Steven Spielberg were mere cartoons when compared to the places I would go in the hours beyond midnight…when REM sleep was most active. Very rarely…
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Don’t Cry For Me, Puerto Rico: My Final Postcard
If you want to use Google Earth to find me, just enter 18.44 N and 66.01 W. That’s me, sitting at the beach bar waiting for an order of nachos. I’ve licked my last stamp and stuck it to the corner of this postcard. I won’t be writing to you anymore–from this place. This is…
patrickjegan 