And it's hot. Steamy. Not the romantic, sizzling, bacon kinda steamy. The "Oh my God, I'm so f'n hot", dripping, melting, Florida kinda hot. I jump up every 15 minutes or so and wander down the hall to slam the thermostat down another notch. And then I remember.
It went out with a boom.
The AC.
Nadah.
I twirl my hair up and shove a pencil into my crown, crossways. 1950's style. "How long until winter?" I wonder. Dreading those gray days as I utter the words. I love the heat. The sun blistering my cheeks. Ice cold beer melting, daring you to drink it before it warms in your hands. But I don't wanna be hot at night. I don't like to camp out.....
I'm whining. Pop open the windows and a cold beer. And then I smell it. The faint reminder of 1976. Wild honeysuckle on a fence, my jeans tearing as I clear the pickets. Lights flashing. Giggling. And then 1977, gagging, fumes intoxicating us. "Open the damned window!" And three of us falling into a heap on the floor....the newly painted claw footed psychedelic aquarium air drying.....home to stray fish for twenty something years after....As we gasped for fresh air ....giggling even in death.... with the honeysuckle winding her way through the dirty screen, saving us from certain tragedy....
And now....
Drenched in Monday night sweat. Waiting on winter.
Accidental perfume.
The perfect gift.....
20 comments:
Love honeysuckle!! Ah, brings back memories of my own-lazy summer nights, catching fireflies and picking honeysuckle, playing tag....:)
Nothing like a memory come back, to ease the discomfort of our ever changing days. Glad you caught the whiff of it, as it was making it's way back 'round again... they always come back 'round, you know... they just never can stay.
Modern convenience makes us so soft....
But it's easy for me to make that remark as I listen to Jim Morrison sing about the Crystal Ship over the thrumming of our central air unit...
Sending ya peace, love and cool breezes that can chill the most volcanic soul...
My friend...
Lets write again one day
I'm sick of silently crying and letting the words go by undocumented and unsung....
I don't care about the rumors either, or who passes them to who, I just want to feel that old genuine love that cannot be faked...
If I could take back the last 9 months of exile to everywhere but home, I would.... I'd never let the beat drop like I did...
But I hear it now, once more.
Care to dance, my sweet friend?
p&l
mine is dying any second part of the July surge. cannot fix right now - I stand outside waiting for the turn !! sk
Ah! The memories that smells can induce can be wonderful! Except maybe skunks and such.
karma....isn't it funny, how honeysuckle and fireflies are just a necessary part of childhood? We used to pick the blossums and drink the nectar, little petals ticklin' our noses! And Mama would holler from the kitchen door "Watch out for the bees, the bees, the bees!" and we'd just laugh!
Shimmerings....how right you are, they can only visit! Odd thing is we don't have any honesuckle...and as far as I know, neither do any of my neighbors, it was just the gift of the open window I think, the gift of yesterday come to sit a spell!
Eric...Silly poet, you can't take back the last 9 months! It's all part of your very own butterfly effect....where,when,how.....the road you had to travel to end up in the here and now! What rumors are circulating? Good Lord, I musta missed everything! So glad you're home again, where you can stoke the fire, feed the flame....where you can write! Your first love, your true love....words....waiting to be free!
Ibeati...Oh, girl! I feel for you! Wishing you this cool breeze, the sudden dip of days, the unexpected that's come my way....And honeysuckles in the wind!!
Saintly....ROFL! As you uttered the words, all those "yuckies" came flying back! But the good ones, ahhhh, they're magic....
a real live Christmas tree...
the night ocean...
Coppertone suntan lotion and I'm 8 years old again....
Chicken and dumplin's....
Line dried sheets...
Peace~love my friends....
You are the perfume!
Thank you...
clink!
clink!
come on eric, write a little poem here so singleton can add a line or two...that is, if it's time
here's something i've never done before: i haven't read this post. i just came directly to the comments and once here, i'm saying mhaw hello
:)
Karma....My right click doesn't work on my mouse, I can't grab that new link and get to you girl! Peace~love, I'll catch up when the paycheck finally comes in...meanwhile I'm hittin' your link and getting advertisements! And I'm not buying any of that, I want Ms. Lennon, please!
KJ...Good Gawd, Girl, it's a good thing we weren't girl scouts together! You're stoking that fire...S'mores! Peace~love girl!
The new address isn't working for you? Yeah, someone grabbed my old one and put up ads. :( Made me sad but I had to change the address (kinda hiding, lol). Maybe if I e-mail the link, it'll show up so you can just click on it regular like....
You got it too.
I'm inspired whenever I read your words and see the beautiful girls you flow forth from your pen.
Hot summer nights....made for the porch, midnight showers and sleeping with wet hair...
My friend,
You are the
Accidental perfume,
the sudden memory of
grace
that comes
singing love
and wildness
to frozen
hearts and tired
arms,
Sending burning love and soft hope reaching out across the horizon,
Maithri
Still here...
And hoping to smell the accidental perfume of the old poetry once more.
I'll keep the candle lit.
Magic Mondays for anything you want! Let's pull the moon down from the sky, borrow some silver shafts of light and some fine dust and make footprint letters all over the net again one day...
I'm not Neil Armstrong, but I remember being there once...
with a hippie friend who taught me that I could control the tides, and the moon would listen to me.
Clink!
Got the beads on every day, so I will never forget.
My favorite accidental perfume:
Citronella Candles,,,flashing me back to Grandma's,,,hers were the first I'd ever enjoyed. Her backyard,,, fireflies in a Mason jar.
We were making a lamp.
And I truly do remember those hot damp nights.Tossing,,turning,,but waking in the morning to the cool breeze teasing the curtains and my hair. Almost chilly,,,,but delicious!
every sense in you is so open to inspiration.. love reading how you connect stars and light up the sky
from heat to honeysuckle to sweet story
"to cold beer and all things refreshing!" love, peace & AC ~s.
karma....TY little penpal! Peace~love~I'm catchin' up!
Eric...wear those beads well, my friend....mine have been hangin' around for 20 something years now...been through David Bowie and danced to Purple Haze...been through babies
and love affairs
presidents
and high tides...
and still I
touch them,
and remember....
the message...
Peace~love....
Things are cuckoo here lately,
but when we least expect it...
we'll
clink!
in
real time....
on the porch....
where the light is always on!
Skinny...that is the Clink! and laugh....
giggle me home to that wrap around porch...
to that paint with your toes midnight silly...
ILYSVVFM!
Maithri...
Can I tell you how much I miss you? I've been buried in
hoo~hah lately and still...
I hear your words,
remember your message...
your song...
Peace~love my friend, wishing it, sending it,standing in the chorus! Muah!
Babs.... Gawd, I loved those fireflies in jars....and we always let them loose....watching them rise, free...into the nine o clock night! Your words just whisked me back...
Piled under homemade quilts from hand me down suits, sleeping on the little twin bed in Mamas "new" room (part of the porch closed in) and the sound of traffic, just every now and then, swooshing by....and the headlights, flickering through the curtains....fireflies in a dream....
she....Funny how I had forgotten about honeysuckle...How could that happen? And then, just like that, drenched in yesterday....Clink! Ice cold beer and refangled air humming!
Peace~love and the temp has dropped to below 80!
Poetry, even in response...
Something I'll never forget
meeting you on these
radiant pages you keep,
you flowed on like the
mighty Momma Mississippi
in the spring torrents
you rolled on and on
like the like the
children through the dew
wet grass
diamonds sticking
to their skin
you flew like a holy ghost
living breathing right her
right now
right on and on and on
and I knew
you might
be earthbound like me
but you knew heaven
and still do
'cause everything around you
is your private lot of
paradise
everything about you
flows like the warm misty rains
rolls like lovers on the floor
in the night bumping soft love
flies
like the wind
the light
and you know...
you know
I could never forget you
I'll always sing the words
and together or apart
we'll fly
Just a little more peace and love on a cold Michigan Wednesday night.
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