It started out all routine. In my sleep. But then I overslept, Deja pounced on the snooze and she did it again, and I guess again, because when I rolled over and clomped out of bed, I only had thirty minutes before I had to climb in the shower and race down the driveway. I need forever. Not to put on make-up or do my hair or anything like that. To drink my coffee. Stare out the kitchen window. Watch Georgia do round-d-rounds in the backyard. Blog a little. Day dream. And then I put lemon juice in my coffee instead of creamora. But it was all good. Not the coffee, just the fact that it was a new day....I don't know what happened, but somewhere between Mickey Dolenz belting out "I'm a Believer" and Mick Jagger's throaty reminder that "Tiiiiiiiiiiiime is on my side, yes it is".... I started to stew. A good kind of, growing, gutteral, strengthy, kind of stew.
When I hobbled into the office beltin "Good Mornings" at 9:00 (yes, we have banker's hours) and Chey answered me in her raspy "morning after" voice, I pounded both hand's down on the counter (to get her quick attention) and then I started. "O.K. Enough. Enough of being exhausted, worn out, tired, and spending the day catching up on hell. Enough of being whipped, beat up, and ringered. Enough of growing old. Your boyfriend doesn't love you, he's addicted to you. Like Coke. He's gotta have it, and when he doesn't get it, or get it his way, his mad. Mean. And that's not love. I've thought about it long and hard (And I really hadn't, it happened sometime between just those two songs) and we're just not gonna do it this way anymore. We used to have fun. We used to laugh. We used to raise hell, not live in it"
She stared back at me in silence.
I started again. I ranted and raved and paced, watched the clock and the front door for the first patient.....watched the back door for the good doctor. It took all of seven minutes to convince her. Life was short and we were wasting it.
At lunch we took a cigarette break and lounged in the doorway. We watched the telephone repair man park under a tree for lunch. He ambled out of the van, put his parking cone in front of his right tire, and hiked over to the Dairy Queen for ice cream. It wasn't polite, but we stared. We kinda need a parking cone for Halloween. It's on our list. Chey took her right pointer fingered and motioned for him to come over. He smiled and shook his head.. "Nah".....he was enjoying his ice cream. She did it again. He did it again. She snubbed out her cigarette and started out across the black asphalt. I watched from the doorway. Silent movie conversations. He threw his head back in laughter and she lifted a fluorescent cone off his bumper and started our way. She set it gently in front of her truck, tossed a two fingered peace sign over her shoulder, and walked back into the office.
"Anything else we need?" she whisper smiled as she passed me.
131 comments:
Taking the bull by the horns. If you want something, or want it done right, do it yourself.
Even if it's a parking cone.
"Your boyfriend doesn't love you, he's addicted to you. Like Coke. He's gotta have it, and when he doesn't get it, or get it his way, his mad. Mean. And that's not love. I've thought about it long and hard (And I really hadn't, it happened sometime between just those two songs) and we're just not gonna do it this way anymore. We used to have fun. We used to laugh. We used to raise hell, not live in it"
I love that whole part. But look out, there's a "his" that you meant to be a "he's" in there.
Is she going to cut the chump loose?
Eric...Who knows.....it's been draggin' on forever, and it's a downer....It's really none of my biz what folks do at home, but I love this chic, I really truly do, and he can't. If he did he wouldn't do what he does. I'm no one to give Romance advice, and I know that, and she laughs at all my peace~love hoo-hah, but I just want her to live....to laugh again....and for every new day to be a new one, not a sorry shadow of the night before.....
Oh, yeah, and for the first time in forever, I gave up editing...so that typo, talked too fast, is just gonna stay there....life is too short for me to go back and change it!LOL!
Why are people so afraid of letting go?
Sometimes, people get into their comfort zone, and a small, wretched, evil voice tells them "this is as good as it will ever be", and they fear being alone more than being with a punisher-kind of personality.
I see it all the time, when I was in high school on up. People around here tend to be with people just for the sake of being with people, and no real reason. It's like being single is the mark of death, and nobody wants it.
Smart or wise people know that solitude can be your best friend if you know what to do with the time. Some people also get used to other's telling them what to do, and become timid about making their own decisions.
Thank God you're smart enough to know that peace~love aren't a bunch of hoo-haw at all, but a true way of life.
I did it once too
tried to find peace
somewhere in black and blue
and
"maybe, it's my fault"
or
"if I did it this way"
and then
I remembered what
I had forgotten.....
And never looked back, except
to say thank you
for showing me
in neon
flashing
crashing
billboard language
where I never
ever
want to go again....
because the lights
sometimes glare too bright
and sometimes
wicked eyes reflect
everything,
taking nothing in
not love or beauty
or the way
It's those kind of eyes
that made you know
that peace ain't no
illusion
real love is not
a delusion
It's those kind of eyes
that say you're to blame
that have freed you
and look with open eyes
now
at what you see:
the entire world
may not be in peace
but your part will be,
your eyes
will see to that
your heart will live
forever...
He watched
and smiled
greasy chicken wings on fingers
and "that's my girl"....
he curled
around the tincan beer....
dirty fingerprints
on aluminum
I saw them there
a mirror
and excused myself
to the ladies room
for a moment in peace
smokerings in the mirror
The bleu cheese dip curdled there, chicken legs shriveling, dead
and when I left the table
the second time out
I stood and
swallowed whole
the last gulp of
bottled beer
and anything he had to say.
He shoved his fist and his
beer battered words down
the throat of the kind man
at the table next to us
but I
couldn't look back
I hope
the stranger
with the smile
that cost him a black eye
and maybe missing teeth
forgives me
for my freedom
I couldn't add to that. That was beautiful and complete. Wow.
Here goes nothing...
I smiled at her
but the him with her didn't,
he stared with red smoke
from his black-brown eyes
My friends walked on but stopped
because I did
looking with black brown eyes
at black brown eyes
"Ease off ace, unless you mean it"
I said, all hundred thirty
something soaking wet
and shaking with adrenaline
and his her--became her own her
locking her self in
the restaurant phone booth
wherer he pounded, cursed her
cussed me
and was held by a manager
japanese chef
until the police arrived
and she hung up the phone
her own her
leaving with a friend who showed
up when needed
and I wonder
if her own her
is the way that she stayed
I wonder
if the phone booth
will let me know the secret
if I ever were to ask
Ask Skinny.
She was there.
I will sometime. Thank you for sharing, that was why I couldn't add to it. I knew it was real.
People just don't become awesome like you by theirselves.
And the restraunt
has a flashing sign
pick up trucks and corporate cars
flooding all the spaces
they pass out flyers
weekday specials
coupons in the mail
and the wings
are touted as the best
curly fries
and onion rings
and umpteen years
and umpteen beers
have passed.
I ordered "to-go" once
and tossed them
even then......
It seems the
"home of the..."
big busicuit,
greasy spoon,
hell's chili,
or grumpy's extra fat
dixie burger,
all say that
that they are the best
that a million people
can't be wrong...
Neon signs
like to tell
bold bright
pink and red lies
They are only good
to dance by
to music that we hum
in the big city night
but they are
so now I take
their flyer
and make paper airplanes
or fuel the bonfire
because somethings
are never as good
as what they're
cracked up to be
Amen, my friend, amen.
I couldn't have even thought it
more perfectly,
Amen.
What a great night. This was an oputstanding porch party.
They all are, Monday night was excellent, too. But tonight was something.
And I wouldn't have thought it if it wasn't for the ideas we bounce back and fourth like tennis balls. That idea could only be born from the ideas that led up to it.
Night, my tincan friend, words, laundrey line stretched, treehouse to porch
and I can hear your voice
and answer
leaning out the window
reaching
to the moon
to the window
to the dimestore nightlight
across the deadgrass
and garbage can lids
and family dogs wandering stray
and
still
you hear me and
answer back
Night, my distant but close
far-sighted, near-souled
friend living in paradise.
I hear you and say
all the words that
are inspired by
these things
that we hold most dear
and holy,
despite the marks
they've left on our skins.
As long as a tightrope
stretches surely over
the alligator mote,
I've got feet to walk it,
ears to hear the words
and the trusty glimmer
of a pale blue moon
to see by,
as I write little sonnets
that would never ever be,
without a few gorgous words
from a powerfull friend
raising two fingers and a smile
long-distance runner style,
singing to the southern skyline
of her back porch blues.
letting go means, for an instant, you aren't hanging on to anything at all...that's a scary thought
k:))
Everyone should have a singleton in their life, a friend to brighten the darker days. ((hug))
Persichetti says.
You did that to me once - you came barrelling in the office and said to me - Enough is Enough - you just have to move - there are no other options - and with that it was done - I moved! Sometimes you just need a friend who will tell you like it is plain and simple, someone who will not tell you what you want to hear, but what you need to hear. I love you for that! It really did save me at that time:) Love you:)
Amen, We all need that 'tell it like it is' - 'wake me up before i go-go banannas' ;) type of friend in our lives.
The faces of love are so diverse.
Just browsin through these pages you could glimpse so many of them.
Love and Humble thanks my friend, M
I love it, I love it, I love it. "We used to raise hell, not live in it!" Brad and I have been having these conversations lately. And we're planning on trying to raise some hell this weekend. :)
i love this story! -awesome writing & revelations!
you amaze me - i love your style!
more please! ~s.
Funny picture of the cone woman - also enjoyed the poetic revelings betwixt Eric and thee
Funny the things that can change a day.... a life.
aaaaawwwwh, come on, this is too much good writing and wisdom for my little heart on this grey day.
so my wise friend: tell me why i should let go of one true thing even though i cry from the distance and reluctantly accept the limits of what is?
:)
Hooga Shakka Hooga shakka Hooga hooga hooga shakka...
I can't stop this feeling...
Eric....
"raising two fingers and a smile
long-distance runner style"
to you....
to late night
balance beams
electric
light shows on overhead
highwires
macramed together
a swinging bridge
dangling over
the
trampoline....
Yup, it's like that!
karoline....oh, it's so scary....the unknown, the yet untouched, but sometimes, not nearly as frightening as the tangible.....
life, it can be so upside down....
shrink.....I hope everyone has a friend to brighten their darkest days.....I treasure mine dearly....good days, bad, and in between....
Persichetti...You knew. You already knew. You just needed someone to stand behind you and push. Loud! We did a lotta pullin;, tuggin', luggin', pushin' in those days.....it's what got us down the road...And made us laugh in deep deep water! Love you girl! Have from that first fateful meeting!
Maithri...
and the wise man speaks so clearly....as to be heard....
"The faces of love are so diverse"....
How so very, very true, my friend....
peace~love and wisdom
karma....we can't let go of it. Fun! Freedom! Laughter! It's so easy to get caught up in the mumble jumble everyday drama and the weight of it becomes a suffocating blanket....and we turn around, look back and have endless days of blank pages. In a life filled with only days, we can't afford to live that way.....Have fun this week-end, raise a little hell....Make memories!
She....Well, I hope one day Chey will love this story. Right about now she'd probably clobber me if she stumbles on it! But today, the traces of awakening are still there, the wrinkles around her eyes a little softer, the bluegreen see through a little more thoughtful,....a new day growing.....
Sandy...."the cone woman" was born a while ago, something along the same lines though, if I remember right....whipped, is the word that comes to mind, but she seemed at home here....And Eric and I, our words sometimes fly faster in these comment boxes, and truer to soul, than any cellphone connection could ever match....Porch Parties we call them....the ambling, rambling, tell-tale stories we share on the wire.....We fell into this party naturally, from pretty much our first encounter on these pages. He is a remarkable prophetic poet. My favorite in fact! :)
justrun....even in a moment....and the color of the sky forever changes.....
peace~love my friends
kj.....I don't know that you should let go, especially if it is the "one true" thing.....Distance is difficult, but not at all something that can't be overcome....My truest loves (And yes, I've lived long enough to have more than one) have both been blessed or cursed by distance, and so began the magic of Tink! The incredible creative way we were able to fall soulfully in love, to gather lifelong memories from split seconds, fleeting chances. And yes, I've walked away from even that....Sometimes the only way for something to remain perfect, unspoiled by life and drama all the repurcussions of all we are and all we do, is to protect it, wrap it up unbroken, untarnished, unfinished.....undone...
And the magic never goes away....
Scott....LOL! Ok, now you've got me doing that!
peace~love my friends
Ok, so I'm gonna take your words and however you meant them to be
and I'm going to run with them &
let them fly behind me like party streamers celebrating indigo, magenta, ash, celedon & sunshine
The colors of our lives ... our past, our todays and our yet-to-be's.
And then I'm gonna take these words and hang them out in front of me, like fresh new clothes mysteriously hanging from a laundry line just to soak up the smell of a new days' sunshine... reminding me that what is new is old & what is old is fresh.
All things come full circle.
ILYSVMS...
get some sleep tonight, Thursdays are for relaxed smiles, and good words in good hands.
Fridays, those are for fancing, ya know...
Clink ya real time!
I mean dancing...
Fridays are for...
dancing
...and fancing...
I like that! Clink!
slb...you run, girl, firecrackers in your hair, streamers everywhere....run....where the river flows....
ILYSVVFM....have fun tomorrow....throw your head back and laugh...dance...be free....streamers everywhere!!!
Eric...."and fancing" I like that ,too!
clink!
pssst....
I can hear the wind
talking back.....
hmm..if I worked with you I mighta stayed at the job. funny!
You heard right, hippie lady blue...
It just took a while. Hope you like this one. I do. I love it.
Peace~Love
The Song Of A Mending Heart
E1313
There once was a hole
in my heart's center,
one that would freeze
in the coldest
northern winds.
There once was a damper
on my inner-soul ember,
smothering the heat,
the warmth,
the light.
But now there's a cover,
threads that sheild my
inner core;
warming it's flesh,
listen to the beat,
ba-thump, ba-thump
ba-thump...
Now the breeze feeds
the hottest of my blood,
my inner-ember flame
look at it blaze,
melting the night
keeping dark things
at shadowy bay.
You cover the hole,
you hear it's song,
its dance,
its laugh,
its sigh.
You feed the fire
you feel it's heat
its passion
its burn
its light.
There once was a hole
in my broken heart--
but now my strong heart
is mending and whole;
now my blood burns,
and in these small words
you see the glare
and I see your tears;
and still it beats
and still you stare
at the threads
weaving music,
symphony in the night:
ba-thump, ba-thump
echoes of love
and your sacred light.
Dee...LOL! Nah! We both woulda flown the coop...we'd be sittin' at the Tiki Bar clinkin' and laughing (At least until payday didn't come!) :)
Eric...
the sleeves of a red shirt,
tied to tattered jeans
checked tablecloth from the Italian Restaurant
fringe from an old leather coat
a cotton sheet swiped from the neighbors line
flowered scrubs
Beach towel left on the sand
nylon flags flying
caution tape
an
endless rope of many colors
knotted
tangled
twisted
fabled
fated
to be the tincan telephone line...
of many colors
I agree with Shrink Wrapped---Everyone needs a Singleton in their lives...but I have a feeling there is only one Singleton--you are truly an original, and I love your work.
Possession is a pretty ridiculous concept really. We never really own anything in this world. Even our dreams are hewn from templates hammered out of mankind's evolution.
Even if you build your own house, you never deisgned the brick, so the brick owns a part of it bu default.
no...TY, but the same can be said for each and everyone of us. We're all who we are because of the potpourri of events and people, places and moments in our lives....and we're all at some point "the butterfly effect" itself.....so far I've been lucky, to have been touched by so many by fate or chance.....
ultra....
And that dear earns two hands down on the countertop and a huge "Amen!"...
And we're all just fragments of the big picture...a puzzle ever-rearranged...
Peace~love my friends and Fridays are for free.....
Clink?
I like your ideas! And you can SO come and play! :)
Mick was wrong.
You CAN always get what you want.
Yes you can.
Way to go for telling her the truth of the matter. That is what friends are for.
That is the best part of you. Your truth.
xo
Blue
Well, wadya know?
I was just checkin, and your were just clinkin!
You alright tonight?
Eric....clink!
karma....I so wanna play! When are you guys doing this? You're gonna have a blast!
Gillian....Oh! I could go on forever....the hard part is when they say, think, feel....that they want something that's not what it really is at all....perhaps, then, Mick is not off mark after all....
she says she "loves" him....and how on earth do you make someone understand that mistrust and verbal whiplash cannot possibly generate love....
what part of peace is so very very hard to accept?
peace~love my late night friends
She wore her friday night denim
her rose acrilic painted
dafodils and tulips
and glitter galore
The butterflys on
her back pockets
flutter as she walks
and she walks like so:
a feather,
a dandelion puff
a smoke ring twisting
like everyone behind her
all twist and drop jaws
and wonder what her secrets
are
and she'd tell you:
it's in the jeans
Nature intended it,
just like that
and she knows I know
...at least I know
that it's friday,
know she is free
denim and glitter and
red roses
Every week has a sunset
and this has got to be it.
clink!
eric.....
clink~and so you
somehow know that
this week Chey and I
trapsed to the dollar store
and bought cheap
press on glittered red rose tattoos
for Halloween you know
and I've stared at them
in their cellophane
and think
they're beautiful
just perfect
velvet petals
for a dollar....
I know...
and you?
been dancing....
and chitchat cha-changing
Kimbies and hubby came out, it was great......
Sounds like it.
I've been writing. I feel better now, but earlier...
I found out today that a friend from class was raped a while back. She's a sweetheart, and she's wonderful, but I could tell something was always wrong, but she just told me about it.
It's so sad. So many women get hurt like that.
I love everyone who has been hurt like that. I know their pain.
I can feel it, strangely enough.
I was glad your ray of ligth popped up. I checked back at the treehouse out of the blue the same minute you clinked me back.
thank you, Singleton.
She brought a friend,
and she collects them
seashells, perfect and perinwinkled,
old and broken,
everywhere she goes...
and whisked her into the limelight
"This is such and such
and pleased to meet you
and take good care"
and set her free,
a friday night butterfly,
divorced and on a ten and not a penny more,
and
sat at the bar and watched
her
smile and laugh and dance
and grow
with the rock and roll....
And the circle grows.....
The circle grows
love grows
a tree grows
and we will never die
we will never stop
growing
the circle grows
faces like mushrooms
popping mysteriously
in the damp night
the circle will always grow
because your hands and arms
open so very wide
the world has got to be yours
Eric....I'm so glad your friend shared that with you, because in the telling there is the slightest glimpse of healing, until finally one day you can shout it, and then it can become an echoe...whispered in the wind...and screamed to the sky. It never goes away. But, somehow, in the release of telling, there is the tiniest hint of freedom...
there could be no other way
but the way that it grows
toward the love
stretching further
through the clouds
climbing
past the sun
the stars are behind us
heaven in front of us
god is beside us
and only the lightest dreams
are yet to come.
There could be no other way
but to say "I love you so"
And all I will ever know
is it's towards the love
that my branches grow.
You are so right. About freedom.
She's a sweetheart, Cheri, blogs along with us, sometimes pops by.
She's a good soul. I hope she heals one day, as much as she can.
Clink! You're a great friend to have, Singleton.
And I see her branches
heavy knotted fingers
faces in their trunks
rope swing carvings
aged
and changing
3 foot, five years, first kiss on an old Mustang tire hanging from the limbs,
and moss, damp and gray and halloweenish cobwebby tangled in her hair,
choking her and adorning her....
she stands
roots and anthills
at her feet
She'll grow, Eric. The healing is an afterthought...a blue and white bandana bandaid, but she'll grow. She'll mend herself from the outside in, not the inside out like they fool us to believe....
and all these things
are somehow
love
there is no mystery,
really
The faces are all we know
who we know and who we are
the rope swing dangles
invites us
to live out the passion
everymorning
the sun glazing the earth
shining through that old
tire hnging in mid morning
air
like the eye
of a guardian
and angel, a spirit
or our loves
all gathered round to share
You know it.
You know
youknow
youknowyouknow.....
the circles,
they grow so tangled,
but together they will be
and that is what
we stretch up forever toward
And still the tree,
heavy,
holds the weight
of a thousand names carved
faded and
lost in the bark,
of blackened bare feet
scouring the earth over and over
again
swinging wide and low
and scraping the dirt
stopping on a dime
dinner's ready
my turn
watch me if you can,
of treehouses and forts
and castles in the leaves,
fancier with plywood and
imagination and leftover nails
than any condo on the beach,
of mistletoe and
squirrels doing round de rounds
and most of all,
the wind....
tell the wind
your wiliest evers
and watch the seed
of secrets grow
green and gold
and all around
is life
catch if you can
the wind will always
take us in
and likewise
let us grow
I'm one tired indian...
How are you feeling. You tapping out more universal secrets for all of us to know?
I can hear you thinking
typing faster than
words can be spoken
and the ting tang banging
of the backspace
because the letters on the keyboard
as much as they spell the
King's English
cant catch the
butterfly flying
not the way you see it
hear it
know it...
and one stroke later
you hit it
the key that sets her free
and the words come
clanking out
treasures at the rusty bottom of the bubblegum machine
I'm exhausted!
On my third second wind....and I'm not counting Mics....:)
Beautiful!!! I love that so much.
"and one stroke later
you hit it
the key that sets her free
and the words come
clanking out
treasures at the rusty bottom of the bubblegum machine"
From the bottom to the top
it's filled with little surprises
like life like circles
on will never know
the treasure that tumbles down
and into waiting hands
will be a gift from heaven
or a penny
for our soul
You ready to call it a night?
Sounds like you are happy.
"Or a penny for our soul".....
you got it, babe....
I got ya...
Now what am I going to do with ya!!!
lol!!!!!!
Yup, peace~love and dreams, my friend...
all of that, to you, as well...
clink!
from the penny-ladden bottom
of my loveworn soul
peace~love
I need to share my To Do lists with you, indeed!
eric....
copper strewn floor,
the old soul of a wishing pond....
Orhan.....LOL! To do! Ta! Dah!
Peace~love my friends
clink! Real time, baby! Got somethin' different over here.
You'll like the post, I bet you will.
Just walked in the door and climbed the tree!
Clink!
To the deep.....
Clink! What did you think?
BRB....neighbor at the door!
haa! Silly hippie! I was scribbling the whoe time...
Your friends came by today on the old post. It was nice to see them. Sandy and Sandy Kessler. They had gorgeous words to say about us both.
That gives me hope.
Deep, deep waters
washed her up
on my desolate coast
in the summer of discontent
Now a jungle of hiacynths
and lilies and wild
cherry blossoms grow
where nothing
once was
except
Wind-blown sand
on my heart of darkness
and no moon ever
dripped silver on this
lonely beach...
And now there is two!
Her eyes are full and
just as hypnotic as Luna
ever was to my wolf eyes
And I am no longer that,
but a man
And she is not a woman,
but a mermaid
hailing
from deep, deep waters
where she learned
to rise above the waves
'76 was the year I was born
a dragon, then a wolf, then
only a man.
Something about that--
about blue moon eyes
and sun carresed skin
that makes me want to
revel on this beach,
in this gritty sand
and then
when I have drank my fill
will I follow her down
to the deep deep waters
of her home
and feel truly content.
Clink you big time! That is absolutely beautiful......every line.....
Clink you word on word,
line on line
moon on the mirror
of the deep deep water....
Beautiful!
You are on a roll, my man!
You helped me get this far. You're priceless. You see why I always say nice things about you? You're unique in all the world, writing with me like this.
Sandy Kessler is a doll...a trooper...one helluva champion...And our pages are blessed by her magic wand....as is the world...
You have it friend, always,
even in the summer of discontent....
there,
message in the seaglass...
waiting to be found
"Learning As She To Float"
That should be the last line and the title.
Or not. It's a damn good poem, already.
Call it....
"Songs of a Mermaid/Songs of the Deep"
And he stood there
in the cold
jeans drenched to the knee
barefooted
ankles licked by
the lunging
climbing
sea
wayward puppy
that never learned
"Down"...
and stared at the blackened
sky
beckoned the stars
to come out just one more
time
to dance
fearlessly and foolishly
in the endless dark
Nothing
buy the sound of the sea
lapping
wayward puppy sloppy and thirsty
And then she laughed....
And there was fire in the sky
And he was drenched again
I love the last line just the way it is.............
You kill me with your editing!!!:)
Which always turns out beautiful, but I watch you write on the fly, raw....and the words spin, and fly, and become paper kites gone wild.....
just the way I like kites....
right on about the last line...
And your puppy poem is awesome.
I could fly like this
for the length and breadth
of all time's shadows.
She calls it coloring
I call it flying
they call it dancing
in the rain showers
of love.
Maybe she's right
Maybe I'm right
Maybe they're right
Does it matter?
The sky is the limit
blue is the color
and love--
that's a given.
Fly on,
rain on--
blue sky dancer
You still with me? Don't make me edit this!
I'll do it!;)
clink!
Well, hell,
I don't have anything to do
while your whiling away
editing
a love letter
piecing together a drenched
message in a bottle
and trying to fit the
sage words the raw words the
real words
back into the
bottle so they
come tumbling out in
new order
.....
I'll have another Michelob
and dig my toes into the sand
watch the tide
for the reflection of the
bottle tossed overboard,
and turn Zep up a little louder...
And don't you threaten me
poet at large
I'll tell........
the wind...
Climb into your comment box
and quote the real lines
the first lines
and twist 'em but good!
I got Jimi Hendrix playing--The BBC collection. Two CD's, three different versions of Hey Joe.
One of them they stop in the middle and break into Sunshine of Your Love, which Jimi dedicates to Cream who just broke up that same day. They recorded it on the Lulu Show, it was live an unrehearsed back in sixty seven.
And of course, Catfish Blues...
i colored all day by the way,
no whisperers
no ladies wearing my very
own face in a mask
and telling my very
own stories third party....
Today, I worked for beer....
Clink!
You got me floatin' too, hippie.
No need to get all medieval on me!
=D
Awesome! What did you color, exactly?
Ahhh, man....throw that tincan line out the window and we'll share noise.....
my playlist is almost full....
not the one on here, cause you have to cut and paste all that stuff, but the play alone grabs 'em all I think....
Might have to start another....I could go on forever....
Hah! "Ladies night" banners and posters....
Yeah, I still know how to work for beer!
SLB and I started that little tradition a zillion years ago....we used to go to a great little bar at the beach, with Persichetti, and finally, broke, after trading fortunes and stories for beers ran out, we told 'em we could paint.....
That kept us in cold ones and hamburgers for another two summers!
Hah!
Clink!
"Free Beer"
the sign said.
"Ladies Night"
the next one read.
"Garage Sale"
someon on the take
"No Swimming"
--now give me a break!
Who owns the ocean?
So, we made a new sign:
"The Amazing Mermaid
of San Marina Beach"
And went swimming
in the waves
anyway
anyhow
like anywhere else
in pardise.
Who owns the ocean?
We do.
Now,
we just need a couple
or maybe a few
free beers
and paradise
this will surely be.
Oooopps! Edit in the fly!
Actually , not an edit, but added to the ending.
clink!
OK, now it's my turn to edit
Poet at large
pitch the last stanza
and let it ride in paradise
Ooops!
It's not my poem
but for a minute
it sounded like my paradise
and I didn't want any
IFs
added!
Clink! Sorry!
love your story of SLB and Perischetti.
I could just imagine it. And who would mind? Three bouyant spirits painting the wildest colors all over everything.
Fine!
Clink!
Oh it was so much fun...endless summers....we would make these kaleidescope fortune tellers...pick a number...pick a color...tell a story....
And people would sit at our table, sandy barefeet propped up on the old concrete tables and pour their life stories out in the sunshine...
"Free Beer"
the sign said.
"Ladies Night"
the next one read.
"Garage Sale"
someone on the take
"No Swimming"
--now give me a break!
Who owns the ocean?
So, we made a new sign:
"The Amazing Mermaid
of San Marina Beach"
And went swimming
in the waves
anyway
anyhow
like anywhere else
in pardise.
There's the perfect version, misspelled words have to be fixed.
Wow! You really liked that one? Awesome.
It' sounds like you've had quite the adventures. You guys had a lot of fun together. That's the only way to fly.
And our "work for beer" consisted of making psychedlic signs that read "Do not jump the fence" and other silly warnings for people too intoxicated to know it was dangerous after all...
the hurricanes took the bar down,
but not the memories of
macramed swimsuits
suntans that will haunt us when we're old
strangers that became dear Sunday friends
and the three of us
a circle
toe to toe
laughing in the sunshine
Beautiful. I would have loved to have been there.
Don't worry about the sun, live however you like, friend. You all were probably the smile of the whol establishment.
And yup,
that's the perfect version
the perfect
way paradise
can't be too perfect
or it's just a bigfish
story told by
passersby
who think they have to pay
admission
and that it's all make believe
when
paradise
after all is free....
No matter what the signs say
Every line the sun has
painted on my face
tells a story
and
almost everyone she
etched in golden ink
was filled with
laughter
or just amazement
at her grandness
and so for that,
I thank her,
clink her,
wait for her to rise again
Dman, that's good.
I love writing like this, flying all over, throwing down lines and poetry. I'm starving right now.
You gonna be around tonight?
Or are you expected at your corner bar?
clink!
She'll so rise a again. She loves you. I miss the Fla sun. I always loved visiting and vacationing.
Daytona, Fort Myers, Cape Coral where my Aunt lived forever...
Sanibel Island and the white sand beaches. Incomparable.
Cook 'em up, me too....famished! No dancing tonight, last nights fun coming back to haunt this concrete booted chic! Peace out, my friend, and pizza, if you please!
I'd did peace right out, but no pizza was to be had. Sorry! Fetucini Alfredo and chicken and brocoli. Oh yeah... It was good.
But I sure do love a good pizza. You huys have Jet's Pizza down there, don't you? That's my favorite. A large square Jet's pizza is the best. Used to work for them a long time a go! Made great money, too, like hundred to two hundred a night, depending. Busy place. Non stop delivering.
Concrete booted blonde.
And I'm still starving! The grand hamburger topped with mushrooms and mozarella, baked potatoe on the side...still living in my imagination and resting in peace...on the shelves of the fridge!
No! That sucks... No wonder you're so skinny my freshman year levis fit you like a glove.
Thanks for the comment. I've been a lot better, but back whern I was young, boy would I drink.
Now, it's not so bad. I learned to limit it.
Peace...
Clink!
You wake up early to daydream!!
That rocks!
Slippy trippy hippie
dreaming of the water...
Hope she posts soon
Nothing's gonna stop her...
Eric....yup, they fit like they are mine, which of course they are now! I hope the pockets are laden with good karma of good times past, cause they're fixing to go on a helluva ride.... I've been lollin' away the day......Perfect!
Beerspit....What better thing to wake up to, than daydreams? Clink!
Peace~love, boys
and to think of the number of those things we stole as kids!
Spongy LOL!And some of us haven't changed a bit....we're still out grabbing 'em.... Ummmmm....we could really use a traffic light, got one of those hangin' around anymore?
Post a Comment