blog block

Hectic day.

Late night.

I look a fright.

Needless to say,

My state’s not right.

I’ll keep out of sight.

There’s no way I’ve time to write.

I long to stay but its midnight


A New Year for Business

24/7 blogs are so demanding and illness, disaster and annual family celebrations can wipe blog time out. I reconnect with humble apologies to all my readers. I rejoice that the disasters did not happen to me this year and I continue to extend compassionate support to all those to whom they did.

Life is vital. My thoughts are shattered by news of the school shootings in America. I walk to work this morning past the spot where Danielle Beccan was gunned down almost ten years ago at the age of fourteen and I contemplate, between the birthdays of my two magnificently mature daughters, the daily pain of the mother who never saw her grow up. How do we respond to such suffering? How do we bear to look at images of children born to die of the famine that surrounds their parents?

I join the mood of the age by deciding my answer is business. In the eighties and nineties it was community action of which I saw years in my much loved semi-rural home town of Savanna-la-mar in Jamaica. But our global need is too great for such slow processes. Lives are being left behind. That’s why the call of the day is for bigger visions and instantaneous drive, that is specifically targeted. Those solutions that we do not create cost too many lives. I am creating business as fast as my skill can grow.

Bear with me, follow RoseyTP wherever you find her on the web. In full it is Rosey Thomas Palmer. My birth certificated alias is Rosemary Palmer. Read my vision of overcoming women in my novel “Hues of Blackness: A Jamaican Saga.” Connect with me on Linkedin. Together we can make a difference because there is a God given spirit of revolt that rages against poverty and limitation. By tapping into it we gain the power to change for a better world.

Protection against health hazards of the season

Whooping cough

Beware the sucking intake of breath that follows the cough.
Count cautiously the heavy thrusts of diaphragm gainst clogged up lungs
Exhausted struggles to breathe may not be asthma, blamelessly uncontagious,
But could be what my mother said I should listen to and learn to recognise.
“When you hear that cough,” she said, “run a mile.”
So adults, please take recent advice, tho it sounds more mild,
“If you have a persistent cough, don’t visit a child.”

There is a God out there somewhere

This week’s high drama soap showed the tears of desolation of a female character as she clawed her way along a ditch, unable to raise herself from the mud. I asked aloud why she did not pray?

In moments of desperation human beings are known to call on their mothers and on the Creator. We instinctively feel that the one who brought us to life cares for our well-being with a passion that transcends time, distance and dimension.

To me, it was unreal that a mature individual should not have marvelled at the magic of life and survival sufficiently to have developed the certainty that some source of creation actively protected her and that there was an enduring communicative link between its intentionality and her ultimate survival.

Herein lies the richness of daring greatly in life and stretching boundaries deliberately or coincidentally. When we are over cautious or over protected we can be robbed of this precious appreciation of being sustained and protected by forces beyond the ordinary. I wish this character had displayed such fundamental human faith. I hope the script writers of other popular shows will spare some lines to celebrate it.


We are all Linked In

Climatic cold cuts through the thin layer of my skin
So that sickness dogs me.
Infection bruises my inner parts.
Exhaustion limits my days to essentials,
Bounded by my body’s demands for rest.
Fevers fetter my nights in 
Drugged jails of decongestants
And dawns seem devoid of hope.
And you…
Sadly, this Thanksgiving there will be many without homes to share 
it in or food to place upon tables that no longer exist. Pray the
weather holds and they stay warm in the few unheated houses that
still stand after the ravaging on the shores of the Northeast
and pray harder for those who lost loved ones , especially small
children in this most vicious storm--one so many underestimated
and paid for with their lives.

Posted by Micki Peluso 22.11.12
And yet…
We burn with positive rhythms
Laid to our bones in better times.
Our closed and sleepful eyes vision
Ambitions that defy our momentary pain
To pulsate within our brains
Investments of identity that will not pass away.
Physical frailties put aspirations beyond our reach but,
Subject to our survival, not forever.
Loving spirits raise the Godhead in each of us
To kill with persistant hopefulness,
The demons that oppress.
Me,elderly and weak, you, young and resilient,
We will turn the tide by sole survival 
And claim the prize of our revival.

Washed in and out

So sad reading of the aftermath in America. Although you are in the cold use tropical standard hygiene. Be conscious of handwashing all the time, use no meats unless they come out of undamaged cans. Wash and peel then rewash all veg and avoid leafy greens where sediment can collect between the layers. Bevigilant and abstemious. Do not resume your usual diet until you know that all affected produced has been cleared from the supermarket shelves.

Yet overall, the euphoria! Thanks America for a double dose. Having elected the first black American president to try to show the world what it means to be born free, you returned him as a tested and proven warrior against poverty, disregard and exploitation.

Stand behind him. Keep your hands clean.

Battle by faith

Winter has set in with a long drawn out feverish cold. These are the times of being confined to bed because any other place renders the body a shivering mass of cells clustered round a burning centre. Self worth plummets and achievements begin to look insignificant in the great scheme controlled by seasons, currents and disasters.
Yet, we are told, these are the times to cling to our faith. As in the Desiderata whatever we conceive that to be. Some will be going home this winter: may they walk boldly through the divide. Some will yield to mental hibernation: may the spring bring new growth. Some will battle to uphold their dreams: may their source of faith honour their efforts.
Thanks for reading me. Stories of positive overcoming will always be welcome on this site.