Beanery Online Literary Magazine

May 10, 2009

Dedicated to my mother

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

DEDICATED TO MY MOTHER

Maryanne E. Hoffman 

Our guest writer on Birth Mother’s Day, and on the eve of Mother’s Day, is Maryanne E. Hoffman, a Western Pennsylvania writer. She dedicated her book, Older Women’s Rights, to her mother, as a result of seeing her mother mistreated in an elderly care home, and being in the position of having no power to correct the situation.

 To my Mother

      You are the inspiration for the creation of this book. I admire your unshaken perseverance and spiritual inner strength, as you endure the torturous and unjust situation you are forced to live against your will. Your beautiful spirit is the (more…)

March 21, 2009

Finding Ben

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

FINDING BEN

Pat

     A press release on Finding Ben states, “Everyone needs love and affection—no matter what. For any parent who has ever experienced disappointment in their child’s failures comes Barbara LaSalle’s Finding Ben: a Mother’s Journey through the Maze of Asperger’s.
     Finding Ben is an honest portrait of parental love. Written in novel form, the book tells the story of what it is like to suffer from what the author calls ‘disappointed mother (more…)

March 19, 2009

Little Ears Are Listening

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

LITTLE EARS ARE LISTENING

Fran

     “I want to be a body tool when I grow up!” little Jerry told his mom.
     “A what?” the very surprised mom asked.
     Jerry looked her square in the face and said, more loudly, “I told you I want to grow up to be a body tool just like daddy.”
     The young mom was at a loss for words. Daddy was an ad executive who occasionally did ad work for tool companies, but to her knowledge the little boy had never seen any of them. And the last thing she wanted was for her son to (more…)

March 6, 2009

Path to Peace

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

PATH TO PEACE  Path to Peace

Pat

     Let me live to raise my five children, I pleaded with God. Let me find peace, I prayed. Only twenty-nine, I was shocked to find that Hodgkin’s disease had invaded my body. I felt I was too young to die. I thought no one could raise my children as well as I. “At least let me live until my eldest could help the little ones and my youngest could remember to brush his teeth,” I prayed.
     Little things surfaced, hit me in the face. I took delight in the rising sun, the distinctive smell of rain, the beauty and aroma of rose petals, the smell of fresh cut grass, the fortitude of old maples, the magnificent blending of pinks and violets in the sunset over Lake Erie, and my children’s smiles bright and wide. All these things became (more…)

February 16, 2009

STOKING THE COALS

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BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

STOKING THE COALS

Pat 

     Think back to 1958. Do you remember the clunky coal furnace that lived in the basement?  I vividly remember when Dad announced, “We’re moving to Indiana, Pennsylvania. I purchased a large house for $6000!”  Dad had accepted the position of Chairman of the Music Department at Indiana State Teacher’s College, now IUP. 
     “We’ll have a large yard, lots of property, lovely roses, daffodils, walnut trees, and weeping willows,” Dad said with a wide grin on his face.  What Dad forgot or refused to mention was (more…)

January 31, 2009

THE SWEETNESS LASTS A LIFETIME!!! An Adoption Reunion Story

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

THE SWEETNESS LASTS A LIFETIME!!!

AN ADOPTION REUNION STORY

Fran

     1964, a warm June day when my daughter began life. Placed in my arms, the sweet face, dark hair, such tiny feet and hands. All five pounds of not much of anything.
But such an impact on my life!
     As I sat there after she was taken to the nursery, I realized that her life was to begin anew, with someone else to love her, care for, and raise her to adulthood. Not my choice, but at age seventeen, with no support, and no way to provide a home, I knew, deep in my heart that she needed (more…)

December 6, 2008

(SANTA) SUED FOR NON-SUPPORT

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

(SANTA) SUED FOR NON-SUPPORT

RUSTIE

Rustie is a guest writer who has submitted poems to this site previously. He is a blind writer who composes and edits his poems on a tape recorder. Below is a spoof on Santa Claus.

As the judge looked down from his bench in the court,
It was plainly a case of non-support.

The thoughts that raced through his honor’s old head,
When he saw the white beard and the suit that was red.

He wanted to laugh for he thought it a joke,
But the woman who filed it declared (more…)

November 26, 2008

THANKSGIVING READINGS & GREETINGS

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

From the

BEANERY WRITERS GROUP

 

 

TWO THANKSGIVING STORIES:

THE SNITTY CAT LIKES PUMPKIN PIE?

LEFTOVER TURKEY

 

To read a post about the birthmother in LEFTOVER TURKEY:

PENNSYLVANIA WEDDING, (LAMOINE) MAINE ROOTS

 

 

ADDITIONAL READING:

RIDING THE RAILS: A True Story

“DATING WHEN FIFTY-SOME:” A Guy’s Version

LEAF-PEEPING: Autumn Leaves

THOUGHTS FOR DAVID

JUST ANOTHER WEEKEND IN PARADISE

AND NOW, THE FORECAST

THE ART OF THE INTERVIEW: Things Writers Should Know

MY HAPPY PLACE

DAVID PAGE: Notes from St. David’s Writer’s Conference

LOBSTER-TALES

FLASHY MOON EXPLOSIONS

November 2, 2008

Old Dawn & A New Dawn

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

Old Dawn & A New Dawn

The Photodoctor

 
 
work ends
time card marked
tired worker
steps fall
as he
walks home
 
problems at work
lean on him hard
problems with a (more…)

October 29, 2008

RIDING THE RAILS: A True Story

BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE

RIDING THE RAILS

NELLIE RIGGS McQUILLIS

 

This piece is included in a self-published book of short stories written by a new contributor, Nellie Riggs McQuillis. TALES FROM THE FOUR MILE RUN was written and published in the 1980s, after her retirement. She taught in the Ligonier (PA) School District between 1936 and 1978, except for a few years when she took time out to grow a family.

     “Now, you young ones pay attention. You’re not to leave this place today. Do you hear me?”
     “Of course,” I said. “They can probably hear you half way to…”
     “What’s that?” he said, whirling around.
     “I said of course we hear you. We hafta stay in this place.”
     Then he was gone.
     We jumped up from the table, scraped the rest of our oatmeal into the dog’s dish on the porch and prayed he’d eat it before Mom came up from the cellar, where she was hunting Mason jars for canning beans.
     Then (more…)

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