Archives for September 2016

Listen to George. W.

On this day in 1796, President George Washington’s farewell address was printed in the Daily American Advertiser as an open letter to American citizens. The most famous of all his “speeches,” it was never actually spoken; a week after its publication in this Philadelphia newspaper, it was reprinted in papers all over the country.

The address was a collaborative effort that took Washington months to finalize, incorporating the notes that James Madison had prepared four years prior when Washington intended to retire after his first term, as well as numerous edits from Alexander Hamilton and a critique from John Jay. Madison, Hamilton, and Jay were accustomed to writing collectively; together they had published the Federalist Papers, 85 newspaper articles published throughout the 13 states to introduce and explain their proposal for a Constitution.

Now only eight years old, the Constitution was in danger, Washington feared, of falling prey to the whims of popular sentiment. In 6,086 words, his address seeks to encourage the nation to respect and maintain the Constitution, warning that a party system – not yet the governmental standard operating procedure – would reduce the nation to infighting. He urged Americans to relinquish their personal or geographical interests for the good of the national interest, warning that “designing men” would try to distract them from their larger common views by highlighting their smaller, local differences. “You cannot shield yourselves too much against the jealousies and heartburnings which spring from these misrepresentations; they tend to render alien to each other those who ought to be bound together by fraternal affection,
Reposted from Writer’s Almanac.


None of the Above

The election didn’t matter I thought,
until I saw all the lies the candidates
spouted every time they came on TV.

They must think Hitler was right, because
they tell so many fabrications that people begin
to believe what’s said is true.

Both believe it was right to invade Iraq, and
we all know both of them will say anything
to get the power they want.

Our country will become a place where they
can do anything they like and not worry about
people voting for them again.

He certainly knows how to turn a profit on
the labor of those he hires and never pays.
If they try to collect, he sends out the word
that they’re no good.

She doesn’t have to cheat a working man or go to
extremes, like collecting tuition to a university
by making false claims, and not caring about those
who believe what’s said is true, and have to pay
with their savings and their homes.

All she has to do is open her mouth in front of bankers
and other wealthy men, and let her words flow. She’ll get
a big check, but never let the voters know the assurances made.

Promises are made to voters, but are never kept. They assure
vulnerable men and women they want the best for them,
including Africans and Muslims too.

How do we show the poor fools who want one of them in the
white house? That one wants fame and the other spouts hatred for
different races, and not only wants a wall, he’ll do what

has been done once before. Internment camps for those without a
green card, and when he finds how much it costs to deport them all,
he’ll say, “They need to go back to the farms where they belong.”

He’ll build ovens as his idol did. But the candidate is a businessperson,
so after extracting their gold teeth and organs to donate to his foundation,
he’ll turn all 11 million into fertilizer that’ll pay for it all.

She doesn’t want a stinking wall on the border to slow the flood,
because the more that come, the more votes her party gets. If only
Americans would open their eyes and see that lies come from both sides.

Promises made by either one will be delayed by congress and soon forgotten,
so the one who got the key to the White House will say, “I tried, but they
voted down my proposal, and then go out to celebrate with the ones who did.

It doesn’t seem fair that from over 300 million people, criminals are the only
ones allowed to run for president. The choice we have is, him or her. This election
should have a third choice on the ballot that says, “None of the above”

Passing Thoughts

“I’m not giving up as a man,” I said before I ran from the
hands grasping for my youth because I’m younger than I
should be, passing the sun, I outrun the one chasing me.

All who live meet this challenge. Some aren’t aware
if they’re not fleet, they’ll stumble or trip breaking a hip
or worse if they don’t stay ahead before it catches up.

Some can see how close the profanity is and like a fool
take steps to elude, but it always catches up, no matter
how hard we try to avoid the damn thing from

slowing us down, giving us pain, and eventually catching
up, no matter how hard we fight night and day, it brings
demise that may be welcome if the despicable thing has

been nibbling on our energy stores and infecting our
body and mind with pain that we don’t deserve.
Who are we to dispute the way we’re designed?

We’re disposable and it’s true, we all pass through the special
portal when it’s time to go. Some go young while life remains
bright and they don’t have to deal with what’s chasing them.

No matter the weapons we employ, there’s no more joy, because
there’s no stopping it from what it intends to do. So before
it catches me, I’ll cheat Old Age from it’s prize and take my life

before it chalks me up as a prize and sends me to that
place in the sky where stardust gathers to begin life anew,
but I’m going to choose to refuse because life is cruel.

Why pay $183 and up for a machine signed hat???

Are you going to give a billionaire $183. for a machine signed hat that says, “Make America Great?” It already is, so why waste your money?

For the same price I’ll send you an authentically signed book written by me with a personal message of your choosing of up to 200 words.

For a few dollars more, I’ll send you not one, not two, not three not four, but five original books written by me, Joe DiBuduo, with my professionally signed name on each book with the message of your choice.

So instead of putting a billionaire in the White House by buying his hats, put a starving artist like me into any house, and know my words, wheter they be lies or not will never affect your livelihood, safety, family, and will never start a war, or kill anyone if they deserve it or not.


To converse in verse is diverse

To converse in verse is diverse and I’m not going to reverse
because, I’m perverse, sometimes curse in my thoughts.
Transactions I have result in actions making the world
a far better place.

If there were more of us in this miniscule space
thinking thoughts we conjure and not ones forced
upon us by miniature minds and subversive groups
who pollute not only our minds, our bodies,
our food, and our atmosphere.

So yes indeed, let’s converse in verse so we can immerse in
language different than those who’ll ruin everything treasured
and cherished by those who can see the way it is, and don’t
believe because they can perceive the sound and spectacles
presented to us are factual, actual, or conjured in an attempt
to control how we act and think.

O. Henry. Never knew he wrote from prison. A bank embezzler. Good for him!

It’s the birthday of O. Henry (books by this author), born William Sidney Porter in Greensboro, North Carolina (1862). His mother died when he was a kid, and he was raised by various relatives and headed off to Texas when he was 15. He worked as a hired hand on a sheep ranch, and he fell in love with a wealthy young woman. They got married and had a daughter. He got a respectable job at a bank, and then as a reporter for the Houston Post. But the bank was audited after he left, and he was arrested on charges of embezzling money. His wife’s father posted bail for him, but before his trial he ran away, heading to Louisiana and then to Honduras. His wife was too sick with tuberculosis to meet him there, and heartbroken, he went back to Texas and turned himself in so that he could be with his wife while she died. Afterward, he was sentenced to prison for five years. It was while he was in jail that his writing career really took off – he published 14 stories before he was let out for good behavior after three years. He would send his stories to a friend who would send them to publishers, so no one ever suspected that O. Henry was writing from jail.

When the New York Times asked O. Henry if he had any advice for young writers, he wrote: “I’ll give you the sole secret of short-story writing, and here it is: Rule 1. Write stories that please yourself. There is no rule 2. The technical points you can get from Bliss Perry. If you can’t write a story that pleases yourself, you will never please the public. But in writing the story forget the public.”

reposted from Writer’s Almanac.

Available now –

Available now

Born in 1940, Joe DiBuduo grew up in Boston. He earned his GED at age 30, and a certificate in Creative Writing from Yavapai College at age 69. Books include collections of flash fiction and “flash-fiction poetry,” a children’s picture book, a young adult novel, Cryonic Man, – Story Time Karaoke @ The Chicagoua Café, – The Mountain Will Cover You, – and A Penis Manalogue,- a mixed-genre narrative inspired by Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues.
Three times a year, Jerry Jazz Musician awards a writer who submits, in our opinion, the best original,
previously unpublished work.
Joe DiBuduo of Prescott Valley, Arizona is the winner of the 34th Jerry Jazz Musician
New Short Fiction Award, announced and published for the first time on November 18, 2013. His story “Night Café” won Short Fiction Contest #31.
He won a second time for his story, “Alto Saxophone.”

Count Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy, better known as Leo Tolstoy (1828)

I always thought Anna Karenina was written by Kafka. Don’t know why, but as I enjoyed War and Peace, A. K. is going on my to read list.

Today is the birthday of Count Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy, better known as Leo Tolstoy (1828) (books by this author), the Russian novelist responsible for two of the world’s most enduring novels, War and Peace (1869) and Anna Karenina (1877).

Tolstoy was born in Tula, about 120 miles south of Moscow. His family was wealthy and his childhood was idyllic: he went swimming and sledding, and indulged his love for reading in his father’s extensive library. He even stitched together an 18-page booklet titled “Grandfather’s Tales,” in which he wrote down some of the more memorable stories his grandfather had told him. Tolstoy’s parents died while he was still young, and he was raised by relatives. At Kazan University (1844), he learned several languages, but failed to finish. One instructor said he was “both unable and unwilling to learn.”

He spent several years writing in a diary, drinking, gambling, racking up huge debts, and visiting brothels until his brother convinced him to join the army. His experiences in the war profoundly affected his spiritual views and sowed the seeds for his later conversion to pacifism. His ideas on nonviolence became strong influences on Mohandas Gandhi and the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr.

Tolstoy already had three acclaimed novels under his belt, Childhood (1852), Boyhood (1854), and Youth (1856), by the time he married Sophia Andreyevna. She was 18 to his 34, and in the spirit of full disclosure, he presented her with his diaries a week before their marriage. She read, with horror, of his many sexual exploits with serfs, including one that resulted in a son. Nevertheless, she married him.

He vowed that he “would not have any women in our village, except for rare chances, which I would neither seek nor prevent.” Sophia found his estate in disarray: beds without blankets, dinnerware old and cracked, rooms in disrepair. She bore him 13 children, breastfeeding each one at his insistence, even though it caused her unbearable physical pain. She began to keep her own diary. She wrote, “His heart is so icy.”

It took Tolstoy six years to complete War and Peace (1869). Sophia painstakingly rewrote each draft, nine revisions in all. He even made her a special tray so that she could write while sitting up in bed, recovering from puerperal fever. At almost 1,400 pages, it is one of the longest books ever written.

In his diary, he wrote: “I feel that she is depressed, but I’m more depressed still, and I can’t say anything to her – there’s nothing to say. I’m just cold, and I clutch at any work with ardor.”

She wrote: “I am afraid to talk to him or look at him. I am sure he must suddenly have realized just how vile and pathetic I am.”

Sophia began a years long ritual of copying out Tolstoy’s diaries so that she could better understand him. She hid hers, but he continually found and read them. He left her after 48 years, escaping with their youngest daughter on a train, after writing a secret will renouncing his worldly possessions. He died a week later at the station master’s home, with Sophia at the door, begging to be let in.

Anna Karenina, which many consider a finer novel than War and Peace, begins, “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

Reposted from Writer’s Almanac.

My newest novel