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Showing posts from 2018

Poem: Trumpets

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Trumpets by Marsha Marie promises unseen blood shed no redeem? how liesth thou? how sleepest thou? hear the trumpets not for rejoicing but for judgments stop now  stop all  your great pretense  will surely fall His blood i choose i watch you lose claim not i am confused you've known thru time  you'll soon decline 

1-800-what-do-i-do-God?

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1-800-what-do-i-do-God? In life we are bamboozled with problems and decisions. It seems like every day, I have some other life-altering decision that I have act upon. I sit and think and think, but my head starts to hurt—like it’s going to burst or something. Why can’t God have a hotline where we can call him up and ask him these little things along life’s way? You would think he would have a special number like 1-800-what-do-i-do-god… or something catchy like that. Man, if I had his number, I could just imagine how my conversation with the Holy One would go. I can’t believe I get to talk to God today. When is he going to answer? Pick up the phone.  The ringing is stopped by a sharp click. “Hello God? It’s me, Marsha Marie” “Yes, my child.” “Umm, forgive me for asking, but what  took  you so long to answer the phone? It has been ringing and ringing?” “Yea I know. Sorry about that. I was busy with some folks. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I have to d

Poem: The Car of Loneliness

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The Car of Loneliness by Marsha Marie  I am a car  Traveled the roads of misery Longing for change My wheels turn with every tear My motor hums on dread Yearning to hear laughter Oh, Deafen my ears! I can take no more Crying, crying, crying But wait, she comes and not alone a warm hand reaches out  Smiles abound Blessings appear  A soft delicate whisper I love you I hear

Poem: Homeless, with a Roof Over my Head, by Marsha Marie

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Homeless, with a Roof Over my Head by Marsha Marie I came home thinking it was the right thing to do. But lost and outcast, I try to fit in. This is not my home anymore. I am homeless, with a roof over my head. No love, no friends, no way to save. The past are but pictures in my head and heart. Memories of dreams come true, will this illusion end? Will I ever have my life? Someone who cares? When I die, will only my children morn? Like a bird in the heat looking for refuge, a morsel, I walk the streets of my childhood. Torn between two worlds. Looking for solace. Envious of those around me with lavish homes and travels, I wonder--- are they really happy? or is it just an illusion too? Satisfied today--hungry again tomorrow. Marching in step with the masses. Government control--dictating our likes and fears........Aren't we all, just Homeless with roofs over our heads?

A True Story of Bob and James Bowen

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Hi loved ones!  Tonight was movie night at my house and wow was it amazing!!!! I just had to share with my friends about a movie, A Street Cat Named Bob . You see, this weekend cat-themed movies only. We ran across this true story about a homeless recovering drug addict that gets adopted by a ginger cat. Living on the streets of England, playing music for money and trying to get clean, this man was totally alone; but then came Bob. Knowing that I could not possibly do justice to this story, let me just say this: You have got to watch this movie!!!!  It is pure heart-warming! The acting was realistic and moving. I love this story, and bravo to James Bowen for getting clean and starting a new life. He and Bob now work for homeless and drug addiction awareness. You can follow him on Instagram and Facebook. This is a must watch at least one time!!!! Don't miss it guys, you will love it---I am sure of it. I am now a fan for life! The movie trailer:  A mi

Poem: Alone I Stand

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Alone I Stand  by Marsha Marie Walking daily into an abyss Returning to my cell at night The coldness of the air instills me I long for a touch....any touch My stomach aches but no one cares  A cramp en-veils When will this life be done?  Alone I stand as one. 

Poem: The Forbidden Flame

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The Forbidden Flame by Marsha Marie a lonely match standing erect the trees beacon feet cemented branches stretched forth heat so near leave me--she begs-- it is forbidden tears wash down to cool her flame trails of steam brush his eyes branches sway in confusion the little match bows in sighs

Poem: God Help Us All

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God Help Us All by Marsha Marie lies deceit a show they will bring it down push the blame on others an evil magicians trick blood in the street screams in our heads what do they want?  money?  fame? my soul? God help us all. I want to tell the world don't trust them deceivers! look to you God help us all.  how many will they hurt this time? 5,000?  more? 10,000? their agenda I cannot bear God help us all!!!

Paklish Cooking 101 is released!

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Finally Ready!!!! Family recipes exist in every home. While some may have grown up on mac and cheese, others were able to tour the world and as a result, gain an amazing culinary heritage. Luckily, I had both!!!!   Learning at my mother-in-law's feet in Punjab, Pakistan, I gained invaluable knowledge that I wanted to pass on to my next generation. Thus my family cookbook, Paklish Cooking 101 was created---including a special dedication to my Pakistani teachers, my daughter, and my soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Take a peek into our family kitchen with  Paklish Cooking 101 . Available on all major outlets. But for my special readers, feel free to download the printable copy directly from www.MarshaMarie.com  or here .  Happy Cooking!!!!!!!

Today's Song

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Today's Song by Marsha Marie childhood memories cards of chance young puppy love  yellow locks  gunshots ring out devastation for me your voice asking where forever in my ear dirt love play school everyday dark backseat  innocence complete teenage love  a new dawn begins the sky changes color my chest beating no end pledge undying love in a song a songbird i came along our names entangled making love on the page but life had other plans to engage a fatal decision a park a catalyst of non-bliss  my love betrayed you my eyes gone adrift never forgotten your name i live now only with shame i wonder what might have been  but in silence i sit i dream i care the long road now holds his hand the moon calls his name haunted of my tune long gone my heart disfigured with pain loneliness i eat regret my choice of drink alone forever i'll stay your voice a feather passing by your laugh a reason i cry pass me a smile tease me today

Sneak Preview: Paklish Cooking 101

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Coming Soon:  RECIPE Beef Stew with Pickled Mangos ( Achar Gosht )          Ready in 30 minutes Serves 4 people Ingredients ●         1-2 lbs. of diced beef or lamb ●         2 small chopped tomatoes ●         1 finely diced onion (preferably purple, but any will do) ●         2 chopped green chili peppers ●         1 clove of minced garlic ●         pinch of salt ●         3 tablespoons oil ●         ½ teaspoon red pepper ●         ½ teaspoon turmeric powder ●         ½ teaspoon coriander powder (bottled or freshly ground) ●         ½ handful of fresh coriander leaves (if available) ●         1 chopped green onions (if available) ●         1 tablespoon of mango/carrot achar (Pakistani pickle) ●         2-3 medium sized diced potatoes (optional) Preparation Add washed meat into a pan with water two inches above the meat. Add rest of ingredients. Spoon mix. Let simmer until meat is tender. **If adding potatoes, add th

Poem: Alone

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Alone by Marsha Marie *** rivers dry a tear not die what once green stained brown with tears now envious surrender the heart rips my dove has flown  to die alone

R.I.P. Art Bell 1945-2018

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I was shocked this morning to find out that one of my favorite radio hosts Art Bell, the founder of Coast To Coast Radio Show and Dark Matter , passed away on Friday, the 13th. Seems only fitting that this amazingly inquisitive radio-legend would pass away on a day like Friday, the 13th. He was never scared to talk about any topic, and he opened the door of the paranormal, conspiracies and time travel for so many people around the world. Still haven't hear how he passed on yet, but my heart goes out to his family. I have been listening to Art since I was a kid. His voice will forever stay the symbolic sound of the paranormal radio. If you have never heard Art Bell, you can listen to a few of his radio shows on either www.artbell.com , www.coast2coast.com , or www.youtube.com . Art Bell, thanks for opening up our minds. We will miss you!!! Send us a sign from the other side. His radio show.     Interview with Larry King.

One question: Have you looked up lately?

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Have you looked up lately? When I was growing up:  Today:  If they're not chemtrails; then what the hell are they? You decide: FRANKENSKIES  FULL LENGTH DOCUMENTARY  (GEOENGINEERING / CHEMTRAILS) DIRECTOR'S CUT FrankenSkies is an 80 minute social change documentary regarding the Solar Geoengineering/Chemtrail agenda that affects every living being on earth. The struggle of bringing awareness to this subject, despite the obstacles of a socially engineered populace and the military industrial complex with its endless resources, is palpable in this awakening truth feature. An impeccably timed eye opening expose, the film reveals the campaign to normalize chemical cloud formations via atmospheric aerosol dispersals. Up against a normalization timetable encompassing a controlled media and an indoctrinated educational and political system, activists ask the question : Is your silence your consent? A shocking informative fil

From Denial to Delight

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As many of you know by now, I am a criminal in the eyes of Arizona State. My life is an open book, which means everyone knows that as a result of protecting my children from their abusive father, I have two counts of felony custodial interference on my permanent record. Now, this has not been an easy thing for me to overcome. I've turned down on some very nice paying jobs, I cannot get a job working as a teacher (regardless to my extended teaching experience), and I've been denied nice housing because I am labeled as an felon . But it doesn't end there. Then, I have to deal with the attitudes of some of the people who discover my past too. One day they are talking to me; the next day they will not even make eye contact. Well, let's put it this way, it's not been an easy uphill climb since my return to America. And for this reason I've really become sympathetic to others that are trying to get their lives back on track, only to face persecution and phobias f

Recipe Excerpts from upcoming book: Paklish Cooking 101

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Now that I mentioned the cookbook in my last blog post, I have cooking on the brain. So I thought it would be fun to write about cooking in Pakistan. Here is an excerpt from the book  Paklish Cooking 101 ,   and two recipes highlighted in the book . Silver dishes a re a vital part of every kitchen. Silver dishes ( panday ), shallow flat mixing bowl ( thrami ), tea bowls ( pyalas ), sauce pan ( dedgi ), round griddle ( tava ), bread basket ( chooket ), teapot ( chinook ) , flatbread cloth ( tutahanas ), hand-held fan ( punkias ) and wooden spoons. Moms are always ready for the traveling junk man ( panday valla ) when he comes thru the alleyway on his bicycle. Collections of old plastic shoes, old silver dishes, odd-and-end metal pieces are weighed and traded in for a new silver pot or clay tea bowls. Dirt is smeared on the bottom of clay and silver  pots and pans ; not only to make it easier to clean the soot, but to help prevent the clay pots from cracking during cookin