unedited christmas stories, writings-odmmb

Thinking about the old well in gram-ma's back yard, the wooden bucket swinging from a rope, lowering the bucket down into the water below, leaning over the edge looking way, way down there to see small self reflected back...cranking the squeaking pulley back up with a bucket full of clean, clear, cold, fresh water...leaning over the bucket full of water to see if face still there....yes! there it is. Me in the water.... always in the water.
at the bottom of the well
in the bucket
in puddles after a rain
in the creek, the river, the spring,
in the horses watering trough,
and even in the soupy slop poured
out for pigs...
And in my slop too! (My Soup I Had For Lunch)!
and wait! Let me see...yep! there it is...in my
coffee!!!
From little bitty baby
To granny old and gray
Reflections always follow
They never go away.
-odmmb


Add a litttle story for Christmas here,
Give us all a little Christmas cheer---
We'll love you forever and call you "sweetie,"
we might even knit some booties to warm your feetie,
We'll hang your stocking up on a star
Santa might bring you a Saturn car!
With keys dangling musically from your belt,
most yummy goodies you ever did smelt
will waft across your nose
and lead you up close
to heaven's gate where the angels are host
to the biggest Christmas party you ever did see
One for the bla ditty dopplerdude and one for me!
So put your story here for all to see
'n you'll fall up the chimmney with glop itty glee!
-//\\-odmmb



It was early Christmas morning, just breaking daylight.
Daddy was walking along, almost stumbling as he hunched
against the cold.
It had rained almost all night and the whole world was
still dripping wet. He was on his way to old man Hank's
general store, hoping to find some way to earn some money.
His heart had almost broken when he'd looked at his
sleeping family a while ago.
It almost seemed to him that they looked hungry
even in their sleep. He, along with the whole country,
was having a hard struggle these days in
the grips of the Great Depression. No jobs. No money.
No nothing, it seemed.
So here he was, making one last-ditch effort to
find a way to provide a Christmas dinner for his children.
He had delighted them yesterday when he took them out
in the woods to find a tree to cut and drag back into
the house, and let them decorate it with any
scraps they could find.
Now if only he could earn enough to buy a chicken
and some flour, they could make a big pot of
chicken and dumplings, and have a wonderful
Christmas dinner.
By the time he reached the stretch of sidewalk
that led past a few other buildings and up to
Hank's store, it was broad open daylight,
but nobody was up and out yet.
He was all hunched over against the cold and gazing
at the ground as he walked or he never would have seen it.
But there it was! In plain sight.
Right in the middle of the sidewalk in front of him.
A five dollar bill!
He stopped, heart pounding, and looked.
Just stood there looking at it.
He could see it was still wet from the rain and
was stuck to the concrete,
and had been walked on. He was afraid that if he
tried to pick it up, it would tear, but he gingerly
scraped a corner loose with his fingernail and almost
holding his breath, he scraped and pulled until he
had it safely in his hand. He then opened his jacket,
and carefully placed it against the front of his shirt,
then closed his jacket back, pressing gently against it.
He sat down on the edge of the sidewalk and spent
the next thirty minutes working on drying it out
and thinking of what he would buy. It never
crossed his mind to wonder where that five dollar bill
came from. Somehow his heart just automatically
knew that it was there for his children.
For the Christmas presents they would find under
their tree when they woke up. For the steaming
chicken and dumplings and even a sweet potato pie
they would have for christmas dinner.
He blew on the five dollar bill one last time,
took a deep breath, jumped up and almost ran the
rest of the way to Hank's store. He now had enough
money not only for a wonderful dinner but also
enough to buy presents for everyone!
A five dollar bill was hard to get
back in those days, but it would buy an awful lot, too!
-//\\-odmmb



'Twas The Night Before...No, really....
It was about 11:30 p.m. on Christmas eve night.
I'd just got home from work. The kids,
two six-year-olds and a seven year old,
were all in bed asleep.
I was only nineteen years old at the time--
-I was the oldest child still at home and the only
person in the house with a job of any kind at the time.
I made ten dollars a week working the snack bar
at the old SkyChief theater. Our family had been
in a down-in-luck bad streak for a bout a year,
doing the very best we could with whatever we
could scrape up. We had managed to get all the
kids a pair of roller skates each, some christmas
candy, and a couple of other little 5&10 cent store
things. But we didn't have a Christmas Tree!
We lived in town at the time, there were no
woods around to find one in, and we didn't have
enough money to buy one.
As soon as I got home from work to stay with
the kids, my parents took off. They walked about
a half-mile to an all-night market, telling me only
that they'd be back as soon as they could.
What did they come back with? You guessed it!
A Christmas Tree! Miracle of Miracles!
It might've looked like a scraggly old flea-bitten,
left-over thing that had it's price cut down to
only fifty cents to some people, but to me it
couldn't have been more beautiful or more perfect.
I think we had more fun decorating that tree than
any I can remember, except for one when I was
about six years old. We felt so happy and lucky!
We had a tree, and presents and we still had plenty
of biscuits and gravy to eat, too!
While we were decorating the tree, we thought
we heard some kind of thumping sound on the front porch. "Nah....there'd not be anybody there this late," we said,
but finally we went and looked out anyway and
nobody was in sight, but there was a big box
full of groceries there on the porch about half
way between the steps and the door.
Santa?
We were embarrassed that someone did that,
but although our pride was hurt we were still
grateful just the same, and very happy to have all
that good food! It was a wonderful Christmas!
I'll never forget the joy in that old house the next day.
All the kids running to the Christmas tree in pure Wonder,
then noisily rolling back and forth on the old wooden floor
in their pajamas, trying out their new skates,
gleefully falling and laughing and eating all kinds
of goodies from that box.
Yes. It was Santa.


It was great-granny's idea to have her birthday on Christmas.
She was born way back yonder on the backside of the swamp
in amongst the boondocks, and would've died if an old
gator hunter named Orrie hadn't come along and found her.
He was skimming along in his little dory up one
little stream and down another, across one litle marshy
swamp and then another and looking for gators when he
saw a small hut built on a platform up ahead.
He figured somebody lived there and maybe he could
get a little bite to eat and a little gossip talk to go with it.
He pulled his little boat up close to the dock alongside
the platform. He could hear the sound of a baby crying
inside.
"Yup, somebody's home for sure," he thought with a smile of anticipation.
The door of the little hut was wide open. The baby was
in a small home-made crib beside a bunk on the far wall.
Nobody else was in sight.
Orrie went over to the baby and as he approached she
stopped crying, fully expecting to be picked up and
tended to. And Ernie, being an old hand at baby tending,
did just that.
He was sure somebody would come tearing in at any minute,
worried about the baby, but nobody ever did.
He picked her up, found an old dry rag for a diaper
and changed her. Then he found some food in a little storage bin and fed her. Then he bounced her on his knee, sung a
few little made-up songs to her, then took her out
for a little look-around on the platform, and still
nobody showed up.
It was early in the morning when he'd first spied
the hut and found the baby, and he waited until almost dark.
Finally he couldn't wait any longer. He had to get home.
He didn't have a pencil or any paper, so he found an
old piece of charcoal in a little stove contraption
just outside the hut, and scratched a message on the floor
telling where he was going with the baby.
But nobody ever came looking for her.
Orrie went back almost everyday for three weeks,
then periodically to where he'd found her thinking maybe
somebody would show up, but nobody ever did.
That's how granny got to be raised by Orrie and his
wife who took good care of her all of their life and even
let her pick her own birthday when she got a little older.
Orrie said she was like the little baby Jesus,
because nobody knew exactly what day he was born, either,
so granny picked Christmas day because she felt a real
kinship with Jesus and because
it was her favorite day of the year.

-//\\-odmmb


don't know where they are
or if we'll meet again,
lost and found are
like north and south on
the axis of the earth,
they are two ends of the
same stick;
"amazing grace
how sweet the sound,
once was lost
but now am found..."



Morning breezes sway limber young pines
moving cleanly through emptiness beside the
towering trunks of ages old loblollies whose
firmly planted feet drink from invisible streams.
Lingering patches of last year's brown
needles glisten on the ground being warmed by
a goldenly slanting winter sun.
All serene.
All secure.
Do we, could we have need for more?
Like these, we nestle unconcerned
Safely we dwell neither here nor
there, in the everywhere.
Sef

What you see
Is only me
A face like an ivory cube
Shake 'er up and "let 'er roll!"
Chuckles that friendly little fiend
FATE!
What'll it be?
What'll we see?
A happy little smile or a dark thunderous glower,
A bright sunny grin or a steamy shower?
No matter, no matter, a clippity clatter,
We laugh as we draw our lot
For what we wished for every roll
Is exactly what we got!
:-)


When you see an old man standing
and staring as if he's lost and in a dream,
don't be too quick to think "idiot"
things are not usually what they seem
he's probably stopped there looking
through a window nobody else sees,
(but would
if only they could)
The old man finally has the time to
stop and linger and lose himself into the
nameless numbers of amazing things to be seen
through the wonderful windows of nature.
..................

When they are hungry they eat,
When they are tired they sleep.
At all hours of the day and night,
Some are awake and working, some
Asleep and dreaming...some doing
this, some doing that
some making fabrics
some weaving hats.
-//\\-

-------------------------------------

Midnight hours
when ungentle sounds
stirr'd with wind
rattle screen
rise and fall;
blowing between
flashing atoms of light
making moments eerily bright,
darker still than darkest night
wall and locust trees roaring
encounter clouds downpouring
lashing, issuing torrents
from all directions at once.
The honey tree beside the barn,
where bees were buzzing yesterday
Whipping,
Tearing,
fell to the ground, and there it lay,
all lopp'd and hew'd,
it's leaves, twigs, and
honeycomb home
strewed from hither to yon.

Now passing on by,
The storm's last thunder grows faint
Bright moonlight shining.
-------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------


Home!
Earth blends into heaven:
Ridges and valleys,
Hollows and hills
Misty blue mountains
And whippoorwills
tumbling streams,
waters that fall,
moonlight nights
a yodeling call...
hillbilly holler that's where i's born
in early october on a frosty-cold morn
growed up tall
and sassy too
scrounging for food
with sister Sue
blackberries, peaches, figs and nuts
no peeling, dicing, chopping or cuts
we ate off the tree, the bush and the vine
We even ate seeds off a loblolly pine;
Scuppernongs, plums, roots and greens,
grits and eggs and butterbeans,
tomatoes and peas with a little corn pone
we'd eat and eat 'til the cows come home.

Oh dear sweet earth, your spirit calls
Your tumbling streams, your water falls;
Your misty moon, your mountainous stone,
Oh how we love you, our Home Sweet Home!
-odmmb


------------------------------------------



...there's no place like home."

a heart that is lonely
has not yet found it's home


Little hut in the forest
Hidden by greening vine
A place invisible to all others
A place that's only mine
A bed of embers
Ashes swept clean
Windowless windows
Wide open between...
-odmmb

--------------------------------------


In my home and in my room
my own closet,
my bed my dresser
my books
I look out my own windows
at the world
when I wake up in the morning
I hug my pillow
snuggle into my covers.
And no matter how humble it may be,
it's the lap of luxury. because
it's home.
-odmmb


-------------------------------------

I love winter with all my heart.
Would I still love winter if I lived in Minnesota
in a small log cabin surrounded by wild strawberries?
Would I light a huge chunk of birch bark and try to
melt the whole north pole under undulating Auroras?
Or would I cuddle down into a feather filled comforter
in front of the fireplace I made with my own two
hands last spring while you were out there cutting down these
logs that used to be trees....I love this house, this Night
in this place where the setting sun casts my shadow this
way and the moon rising casts it that way...
I love this Winter House.
This Southern Not Minnesota Log Cabin..
It is nowhere near Lake Woebegone. :-)
____________________________________________________


this little spot is like paradise.
there's many many things to be done.
everyday.
one little walk around the trail
reveals many pleasant
projects to look forward to
many beauties to behold.
Comfort dwells here
and peace
and love.
it's
HOme
-odmmb

------------------------------------------



No humbler home than the nest
of bluebirds in the tree
no humbler home than mine
the one that's made for me
no humbler home could there be
but none more lovely still
than my home here in the woodlock
with the wonderful whippoorwill.
-odmmb


-----------------------------------------

Home
is at the end
of the smooth-worn road:
Across the last little
bridge over the clean, clear
waters of the running stream.
The western sky is full of setting sun;
The kind-hearted one greets me with
a warm welcome.
-odmmb

---------------------------------------------

i shall cut some small trees
with my little hatchet
arrange them just so: then latch it
all in together into a small hut,
then with a few stones i've gathered
i'll build a hearth for when it's weathered
into my home.
here. solitarily alone
in happiness
I shall watch autumn freeze into fall
followed by whispering snowflakes and all
that winter means tramping through it's stuff
sticking to my boots where in the warm rough
of woolen socks keep my mortal feet warm
until spring comes with the beauty of that river there
lapping at the doorway of my warm hut where
I dip it up
use it to wash my garments.
until one hot day in late summer again I watch
these new, leathery green leaves the spring flood begot
soften with frost and once more bring me back again
to the same different place
i was in
back then
-odmmb


-------------------------------------------------------------------



"home is where the heart is"
whoever said that jazz
spiraled into a jumble of beating
drums like gazing into empty skies
where no clouds
learn the meaning of mountain peaks
covered with clouds
looking like smoke from a distance
blues being sung in dark shadowy
rooms on Bourbon Street
New Orleans Preservation Hall
Oh ye babbling brook of thoughts!
Oh ye Traveling Mind!
Where is your HOME?
It is where your heart is, they say!

-odmmb


-----------------------------------------


Home, sweet home, there's
no place like it.
That must be because home is
the roots of our tree,
the place where we relax, let go,
and do nothing but be.
-odmmb


---------------------------------------------


...there's no place like home."

a heart that is lonely
has not yet found it's home


little hut in the forest
hidden by greening vine
a place invisible to all others
a place that's only mine

a bed of embers upon the hearth
with ashes swept up clean
windows open to the world
and beams of light between...
-odmmb



--------------------------------------------------------------


My home here in the wood
has only roof and floor
No walls to hamper living
No need for window or door.
-odmmb


----------------------------------------


here I sit at home by the fire
Where I'd much rather be by far
The car's in the driveway
turning into rust
If I had to go at all,
I'd rather be bussed.
But the mall it don't have nothing
I'll need for weeks to come
I don't want no gewgaws,
Or i'd run out for some
So let the traffic roar
Let the busses bray
I'll stick here by the hearth
For yet another day.--
-odmmb


------------------------------------------------

I want it ALL
I love my home in the tropical south,
oh yes...I truly do
but oh how I sometimes yearn
to share your home with you!
Where snowy banks, and laden limbs
welcome the whitest fresh fallen flakes!
The silence of it all,
Thanking the Lord for warm bundling up
and fires upon the hearth,
little stools pulled up close.
Embers glowing
while outside
it's still snowing.
But then I hear a seagull's call
and I think,
Well, is it really true...
we can't have it all?
-odmmb


------------------------------------------------------


"Be it Ever So Humble
There's No Place Like Home!"
Camping Out
Yeah,...and remember how in the middle of the night
that wild thing acting like a fourth of july
summer thunderstorm
came boiling in from nowhere
flashing and ripping and roaring?
The tent first started leaking like crazy
then soddenly collapsed.
It was freezing cold
in the middle of August.
We were pelted by hailstones.
High winds howled
causing tall trees
to do a dance
called "the twist!"
We shivered
and shook.
Our teeth clattered
and chattered.
Our only refuge was the car.
We all piled in,
cranked up
and went
HOME!
--odmmb


----------------------------------------------


Beneath the two trees standing
They built their cabin home
The fields around all cleared
the stumps gave way to loam
They planted peas and beans
and corn and cotton too
Melons, tomatoes and squash
sparkled in morning's dew,
Soon the land was hallowed
sweeter than honey-comb
For beneath the two trees standing
They built themselves a home.
-odmmb

----------------------------------------------------


Awakened from sleep by booming flashes
Must arise, put on robe, tie up sashes
Sit in kitchen at table and wait
For storm to pass by garden gate
This place a refuge, shelter,
Home,
Where we wait for the passing
of the midnight storm.
-odmmb

-------------------------------------------


Before darkness falls upon the land
stroll quietly around
walking on the grass, the sand, the pine needles, the
litttle sticks and invisible stones
past the little pond where the golden red
fishes play and pull bits of tasty bites from
the green around the edges..
In the twilight glow look up at the
sky, the blue and rosy fingered traces of
glowing light reflected from the setting sun
in this place here. now.
Home sweet home.
-odmmb

-------------------------------------------------------------



I spent years looking for a home-
a place where I could settle in
to rainy days of quiet peace,
sunny breezy, foggy, sweet and cool
green and brown and shady..
days of digging, planting, picking,
raking, sowing, working in a little
garden all my own.

I came upon it with no effort of my own,
and not quite by chance...

For the love of my own dear loved ones built
this wonderful home for me
It has all I ever wanted
it's where I want to be.
-odmmb


-------------------------------------------------------


From cottage door
across the moor
run little child
for forests wild
leaping o'er cowslips
wet with dew
green groves wait
where birds just flew
lightdrops sparkle and spray
and croon
eternal childness,
sweet sphere of moon
live within one's being
among the bowers
fly away fly away
fly away home
-odmmb

------------------------------------------


Another world another time
Spoken of in tome
but while we're on the earth
this earth will be our home
little white cloud,
leaves of green
golden honey flowing
wake up every morning
see a flower growing
-odmmb

-------------------------------------------------

home at last, at last
green fields growing food for all
little children play
-odmmb


we took the oaken bucket
the one with band around
we dipped it into the spring
the one in forest found
we pulled it up a flowing
dripping waters sweet
we spilled it on our shirt
we spilled it on our feet
we took a long, long drink
and then we took some more
we then went home refreshed
to put it by the door
upon the water shelf
the one where dipper is
for mama, dad, and sister
and for old grandma Liz.
-odmmb


---------------------------------------


The house is empty
but it won't be long
I just bought it
got it for a song
though it's worth much more!
(actually it's priceless)
I knew I was home
when I saw the open door.
-odmmb

--------------------------------------

My home is in the deep
forest of the Island:
I walk daily to the edge
of the shore,
then sit for a while
with my bare feet in the
little waves which languidly lap in
and out around my ankles.
Tall trees above my head swing and sway
as warm wind passes;
I drink spring water from green leaves.
I weave willow branches to form
a little basket
then rest beside a tree
while sipping cold, wild tea.
I lie down between clean,
rainwashed sheets woven by
my own hands...
I've taken my body away,
far away from the daily grind
filling, flooding my mind
with clean, clear waters of being
I inhabit this island,
this glorious island.
-odmmb

-----------------------------------------

we took the oaken bucket
the one with band around
we dipped it into the spring
the one in forest found
we pulled it up a flowing
dripping waters sweet
we spilled it on our shirt
we spilled it on our feet
we took a long, long drink
and then we took some more
we then went home refreshed
to put it by the door
upon the water shelf
the one where dipper is
for mama, papa and sister
and for old grandma Liz.
-odmmb


------------------------------------------

LIMERICKS:


-//\\-odmmb


His willow tree was weeping
His love beneath it sleeping
He tickled her nose
then tickled her toes
To see if she'd rise up leaping!

-------------------------------

"Honey, who's under the bed?"
Her Sweetie-Pie softly said,
"The dog," she replied
as blissfully she lied,
The guy under the bed dropped dead

--------------------------------------

There was a young man from down under
so struck by big bolts of thunder
he swallowed a brown bag
while taking a big drag
Off the camel he had in his plunder!

-----------------------------------------
Limericks are silly, inane
Surely there's nothing to gain
wasting one's time
making a rhyme
worthy of naught but disdain!

----------------------------------------

There once was an old mystery writer
who could've been a little bit brighter.
He wrote and wrote,
note after note,
'til he turned out an absolute frighter

----------------------------------------
There once was a girl on a llama
who thought it'd be a great drama
to have a little party
So like a little smarty
She invited a whole herd of brahma!

-------------------------------------------
There once was a girl named 'Rella
Who twirled her big blue umbrella
She stood in it's shade
'til the lemonade was made
While flirting with a funny-looking fella!

---------------------------------------------
There once was an old lady named Sadie
Whose character was a little bit shady
She told a little fib
and poked me in the rib
to taunt an old lady named Katie!

---------------------------------------

There once was a funny little Hookworm
who never could be a bonny Bookworm
He read some recipes
that needed limburger cheese
but it stunk too funny to cook some

----------------------------------------
There once was a giant green lizard
Who roared and spit fire from his gizzard
But the lizard went tame
When called a certain name
by Betty, whose gizzard spit a blizzard

--------------------------------------------

There was a young man with a wish
To catch a whopping big fish
So he got a big plate
and sat down to wait
For a fish to jump in the dish
Three hours went by, then four
then five, then forty-two more
He sat and he sat
Then he hollered, "what's that?"
When a whale jumped out on the floor!
"I caught him! I caught him!" he said
As he threw the big whale on the bed
But he'd waited so long
his hunger was gone
So he sang a little song instead!
..........yo-del-aydy--hoo!!!!
--
--------------------------------------

He gave me a man-eating plant
I sent it to my skinny old aunt
I could've swore she said
I'll put it in my bed
But feed it a man? Oh dear! I can't!

------------------------------------------

There was a young man from down under
so struck by big bolts of thunder
he swallowed his brown bag
while taking a big drag
Off the camel he had in his plunder!

------------------------------------------
On my way to work I saw a purple dragon
who'd only just recently fell off the wagon
he staggered and stumbled
and something he mumbled
While gurgling and and gulping from his flagon

-------------------------------------------------
If you are ever arrested in Texas
And thrown in a cell with saurexus
just tyre anno up tight
to prevent a big fight
And save your sweet solar plexus!

----------------------------------------
He had a Red book sitting on the table
Wanted to read it, but wasn't able
he sat there all day
with nothing to say
For the Red book on the table was a fable

---------------------------------------------
He finally ran out to the market
and with a dollar he took from his pocket,
he bought a blue dye
and this is no lie
He took the Blue book out and hocked it!

-------------------------------------------
There is a blue baboon in my bathtub.
Patiently waiting for a backrub
But what can I say
He'll wait 'til doomsday
Nobody will touch such a Fat Grub!

----------------------------------------
Honey, who's under the bed?"
Her Sweetie-Pie softly said,
"The dog," she replied
as blissfully she lied,
And the guy under there shivered in dread!

---------------------------------------------
My willow tree is weeping
My love lies beneath it a sleeping
I'll tickle his nose
then tickle his toes
And see if he rises up leaping!

----------------------------------------

What I did on my first date!?
I opened the door at a quarter to eight--
And oh me oh my,
What a wonderful guy!
"Don't wait up," I said to my Mom..."I'll be late!"

------------------------------------------------------
There once was a special green man
Who stored his green peas in a can
a giant was he
and it possibly could be
The special green man tilled the land!

-------------------------------------------------
A horrid little mouse got into my house
I hollered for help from my spouse
He caught it at once
But then the daRn dUnce
Dropped it with glee down my blouse!

----------------------------------------------
There was a young man from Maine
Who had lots of good stuff to gain
So he packed up a bag
And went on a jag
To see if he'd go down the drain!

---------------------------------------------
In Mexico they had nude beaches
Until they were overrun by leaches
Now they are clad
but it ain't so bad
for bikinis to be covered with breeches

-------------------------------------------------
shooting star flew overhead
It put old Joe in an awful dread
What'll he do,
and who should he sue?
If it comes in for a landing on his head!?

------------------------------------------------
I wish I could fly to the stars
With a little rest stop on mars
I'd mine black holes
digging up coals
then back to newcastle's soap bars

-------------------------------------------

What if egypt ran out of sand!
They'd scream and yell to beat the band
The Pyramids would sink
The Nile would start to stink
And the camels would 'dessert' the land!

----------------------------------------------

I had a canary named "tweety
Who toyed with my calico "sweety"
He teased her each day
'Til finally he'd pay
Now my calico's "sweety-tweety".

----------------------------------------------

We write our limericks for the fun of it
Stepping all over the rules we run a bit
And nobody cares
If anapest stares
At the rhyme on our aabba dabba bun we sit

--------------------------------------------------
Let's dance at the christmas bonfire
With knobby-kneed old Count Von Briar
He'll give us a romp
With splendorous pomp
Then drop with plop when he's won, Sire!

-----------------------------------------------

He dug his saber deep into my heart
Then he stabbed me with cupid's dart
What could I do?
I hollered for you,
To save me from Old Bountiful Bart!

---------------------------------------------

Sometimes I put my foot in my mouth
That's when you know I'm from the south
We're famous for it
But nobody can bar it
There's no big loudmouth drought in the south

-------------------------------------------------

Farewells to those departed souls
Who went out and dug their own holes
they dug 'em too deep
So now they'll have to sleep
With the rabbits, the toads, and the moles!!!

-------------------------------------------

SELF

Winter could be spent
listening to whisper of snowflakes
falling into the silence of
evergreens' waiting arms.
Following slushy wet footprints
through deep, white snowfalls;
Scribbling lines on pages of birchbark
making up things like this
about living in the mountains,
while sipping sassafras tea
steaming hot and sweetened with
wild honey..
aye, but far from being an escape
from the ordinary world, this
solitudinous mountain life
is an ordinary world....
-odmmb
..................................................

Towering tall, thick trunked cypress trees,
Whose knees bow low into black mirror waters
Are reflected all the way up to the fine lacy
green lightness of leafy little needles never
visibly falling.
A flock of redwing blackbirds landed
Making sounds only they could.
They made themselves at home in the Cypress
At the edge of a swampy wood.
A white spider lily grew at it's base. Just one
lone white spider lily.

.........................................
This one's Thinking
Thinking of Cloudland Canyon
About the waterfall falling
Into the Pool, the little round pool
Down in the bottom of the canyon
Filled with the heat of swirling ice-cold water
Churned up into whiteness by the agitation
Of that sweet, clean, clear falling water tumbling
down so chaotically upon, into, among, over, around,
Rocks.



They are
busy all the time
so taken up with what they're doing
that thoughts of what they did
yesterday,
or what's to become of them tomorrow
never enter their heads.
They have fun, laugh, play, dig, walk, scratch, sing, holler,
sleep, leapfrog, swim, scrub, wash,
weave, build, throw, slash, plant,
Oh!
There's no end!
odmmb....:-)_________________________________>>>>>




not knowing each moment
what will be next
watching events flow
come and go
from here and there and
everywhere and nowhere
all at once.
some moments cluster
and clump
like the flames flickering
on the hearth
like the logs turning to ash
lasting longer than
the shadow of a bird
flying overhead
a little longer...
but all events flow
all come,
All go....

That one is without form,
without characteristics,
without root, without source,
and without any dwelling place,

Resting all night long
sleeping deep and true
dreaming dreams unknown
'til early morning dew
living life each day
in grace and beauty sweet
walking through a world
of flowers at your feet.
-//\\-


I am MANY all rolled into ONE!
Just about everyone I've ever met,
read, talked with, or listened to...
left a little piece of them in me;
Therefore although I'm only one,
there's more than one in me, you see!
-//\\-



Opening lines of Book XI, Iliad rewritten:

And now as Dawn rose from her couch beside me, harbinger of light alike to mortals and immortals, I went into the gallery to see what the hands of these immortal artists had wrought.
I took my stand by the huge black wall in the chamber which was middlemost of all, where my computer reposes, so that I might see farthest on either side of the world, on the one hand towards the works of one, and on the other towards those of the other- for these two heroes, well-assured of their own strength, had valorously drawn up their paintings and posted them on the board.
There I took my stand, and raised a cry both loud and shrill that filled the whole house with noise, giving my family the heart to come running and with all their might, so that they might see also what marvelous works the Day and Night has brought.
Woo!!
(what fun)


Lines from Book XXIV,Iliad, rewritten
After the funeral, the family now living in different houses, went their ways- each to his own abode. There they made ready their supper, and so did the son. He then bethought of the blessed boon of sleep; but still wept for thinking of his dear father, and sleep, before whom all things bow, could take no hold upon him. This way and that did he turn as he yearned after the might and manfulness of that dear one; he thought of all they had done together, and all they had gone through both on the fields of battle between adolescent and elder, and on the waves of the weary sea of everyday life. As he dwelt on these things he wept bitterly and lay now on his side, now on his back, and now face downwards, till at last he rose and went out as one distraught to wander upon the seashore. Then, when he saw dawn breaking over beach and sea, he got into his car, and drove around and all over the city, up one street and down the other, aimlessly. Thrice did he park near the cemetery and drag himself into it and round the tomb of his father, and then went back into his car, thinking of the body of his father in the ground full length and with its face upwards. He could not bear the thought of it being disfigured, for he could only think of him as he was with all the might and manfulness of his earlier years,... Not as he knew he himself would now--and too soon-- become.


Dogdays...Don't hear nothin out there and the air's so heavy you could cut it with a butterknife. Don't have no idea where all the birds are. What do they do? All go down to the swamps and bury themselves in mud or something? But you sure cant blame 'em! It's so hot out there it'd singe the feathers right off their bodies if they tried to fly around. Got up this morning before daylight thinking maybe it'd be a little cooler, but after sweatin' it out all night, it was no cooler, so we went on down to the watermelon patch and picked us a good mellow ripe one for breakfast, and dropped it hard on the ground so's it'd bust half in two, then we ate the middle heart part where there's no seeds to worry with then we all picked a few more and hauled 'em on down to the creek. Now that's one place you can cool off anytime. That water's always cold enough to freeze the horns off a billygoat no matter how hot it gets. We put our watermelons in that cold water and then crawled right in behind 'em. Pretty soon everybody in the whole community was gathering up there in that one spot. Which everybody expected anyway, since that is the "Oh-fishul" swimmin' hole fer miles around! 'Bout dinner time it was, when Mama and Papa themselves come on down too, 'n Mama, she brought some biscuits and sidemeat all packed up in a syrup bucket for us to eat along with the watermelon and a pile of cantalopes brother brought up from his patch over by the holler. Well I tell you we was all makin' so much noise by that time we forgot all about it being dogdays and no birds anywhere. I heard Mavis tellin' Herman she would even sleep all night right over there on that sandbar if it weren't for gettin' toted off by mosquitoes! Well tomorrow I know we'll all be out there in that cotton patch agin, prayin' for a thunderstorm by the time it gits to be three o'clock! I jist hope we make it to git all that cotton in, but I tell ya, these dogdays sure can make a lazybone out of a body! And I mean Anybody!!! Amen, to that, Brother!!


Puddlehunting!
Me and my border collie
Went out one day
Trusty old rusty old camera
would swing and sway
hanging nonchalantly by it's straps
from my proud shoulders!
No luck! Nary a puddle was seen!
Ooops! we forgot
It has to rain long enough to get the earth
all besot
and soaked fuller with water than
it can hold
before it collects itself into
little mirrors of up yonder!
..... :)


"I don't care what you call me just so you call me when it's time to eat!"

My friend, "Katy" said, I have lots of names.
Three of the kids call me Mommy,
one calls me MOM
two call me Mother
and I think the oldest two call me The Old Lady
George calls me Honey
Mom calls me Kathleen
Dad calls me Katy
At the market, they call me Mrs. Jones
At Geo's office they call me George's wife,
Some guy on a bench at the park called me Sweetie Cakes
I have been called good lookin'
I'm also called
Sandi's Mom
My client
This Patient
A customer
Old lady Jones
and that's just a few of the good things I've been called
who knows what else I might be called ! LOL!!!






Multiple Choice

All my other selves and me
we are many yet we are one
where does each self end
many selves have begun
some have names, some do not
some awaken in the morning
some sleep all day somewhere in the misty
back trails of the garden
I sit on the very edge of the river
peering into the unruffled waters
to see reflections there
untill a pine cone falls with a splash
from this tall tree
Now my image is shattered
I see many pieces of me.
-sef



the spaces

it's kinda like breathing...we notice the breathing in
and the breathing out, but we don't notice the spaces
in between each breath, but they are there...

and heartbeats...when we check our pulse, we count
the beats,...but there are spaces between the beats,
too.

we don't notice the spaces between words like this
on a page, but there they are.

There's many different forms of space that go un-
noticed....including space between thoughts...

spaces and things in spaces .....__all one. ~~ :-) ~~~







Wei Wu Wei, they say:
having no intention at all,
or at least not enough to mention,
was always, however full of attention,
almost always...
very observant was he, never missed a thing
he was living glad,
for he never, ever, almost never intended,
but he always, and forever attended...
well, almost always!
(they say)
:-) -//\\-


Living "with intention"
sounds a lot like swimming upstream.
Not impossible, but very difficult,
requiring much effort and many time outs for resting.
-//\\-





Mind clouds hover around
lofty mountain peaks,
towering pines whisper
with rhythmic flow of wind.
In darkness, there is light,
In shadows, there is shining clarity.
Like the clear, still waters of The Big Lagoon
wrapt up in mists when ocean fogs roll in,
endless eons dissolve into nothingness,
each melted into the other.
In this illumination,
all straining, all striving is forgotten.
-//\\-odmmb
better: (?)
Mind clouds float above
like lofty mountain peaks;
Towering pines whisper
with rhythmic flow of wind.
In darkness, there is light,
In shadows, there is shining clearness.
Like the calm,blue/green waters of
The Big Lagoon
wrapt up in mists when fogs off the gulf roll in,
endless eons dissolve into nothingness,
each melted into the other.
In the light of this scene,
all straining, all striving is forgotten.
-sef


Naivete
How could one so unworldly,
so unknowledgeable
of the ways of the sophisticate
know of darkness?
Or have taste of such?
Nay.
In her naivete,
she did not know life is short:
So she lived forever
in one moment's time.



On My Own
Here I am.
Trying to find my way back home.
Looks like I'm on my own.
Have to find my own way
I know I'll know it when I find it,
but that's all.
I'm having a little problem here...
little bit lost you see.
But it looks like I'm going to have to find my own way.
Can't ask people for directions.
Everyone I ask keeps telling me
opposite ways to go.
When I try to follow them I find myself going
around and around and around
in circles. Never getting anywhere,
having that old "deja vu all over again!"
One thing that makes it difficult
is that I don't really remember where I came from.
Now if only I could remember a little something about it,
where it was, which way I came to get here,
and little things like that,
I think maybe it would help a lot.
And I do think I sorta, maybe-- recognize a landmark
here and there--
And of all the things everybody tells me about which way to go,
seems like I do pick up a few helpful hints from them all.
So with little bits of the map here and little bits there,
and what with me piecing them all together
so they make sense to me,
so I can understand them enough to keep me traveling on,
I am getting there. I feel it.
I can almost smell the air of home atmospheres.
The closer I get,
the more familiar things are.
The closer I get,
the more I see of all those others
holding also their crazy quilt maps,
all pieced up, and sewn together.
I recognize them, and they do me too.
We smile at each other. And nod.
We wish each other a good journey.
We say to one another with a friendly grin,
"Happy trails!"

Self
Beside the vegetable garden out back.
Just sitting there.
Aware of the heat of the sun shining on back,
little fluffy white clouds floating high in the dark blue sky,
birds flittting around the bird feeder
singing and chirping all around in the trees;
aware of dirt on bare feet
resting on cool grass,
aware of thoughts streaming along in mind
like mountain brook tumbling over rocks
passing quietly through deep gorges:
Aware of all these things
as if watching them
like watching the butterfly nearby


How could one so unworldly,
so unknowledgeable
of the ways of the sophisticate
know of darkness?
Or have taste of such?
Nay.
In her naivete,
she did not know life is short:
So she lived forever
in one moment's time.

Self:
aware of breatheing, of heart beating,
of hair on head, and sweat on brow;
Aware of many, many things,
and all at the same time
unconsciously
aware of many, many more things....
and then it dawns:
Self
is in that "vast empty shining field
from which we have never been separate,"
Self
is in a state of bliss
observing
all these things.


So with little bits of the map here and little bits there,
and what with me piecing them all together
so they make sense to me,
so I can understand them enough to keep me traveling on,
I am getting there. I feel it.
I can almost smell the air of home atmospheres.
The closer I get,
the more familiar things are.
The closer I get,
the more I see of all those others
holding also their crazy quilt maps,
all pieced up, and sewn together.
I recognize them, and they do me too.
We smile at each other. And nod.
And wish each other a good journey.
We say to one another with a friendly grin,
"Happy trails!"


If I did not lift up my own cup
I would die of thirst
So I shall drink from life
long and sweet and true
Then when my cup runneth over
I hold it out to you.



Mema, Sef 'n I,
All my other selves and me
we are many yet we are one
where does each self end
many selves have begun
some have names, some do not
some awaken in the morning
some sleep all day somewhere in the misty
back trails of the garden
I sit on the very edge of the river
peering into the unruffled waters
to see reflections there
untill a pine cone falls with a splash
from this tall tree
Now my image is shattered
I see many pieces of me.




The brushwood gate itself to cry
raindrops dript off, shaken nigh
so that the self was not the same
when nature gave a double name
neither two but one appalled
when only one of two were called.
Whereupon this outdoor throne
made of a stump when tree was gone
we sit in silence with the dove
Co-supremes the stars and love.



Nature grows: worldly domain
extended outward again
whose twigs like the willow
skillfully bent
uprooted daily and onward sent
When to thy bed thou dost go
What worldly feelings thou dost know
Leave behind with pitcher and ring
only thyself thou must bring.




Real self:
walking around in a bubble of being
lively buoyant, versatile,
easily jumping from one log to another
across cold water creek
getting to the other side, not
looking for anything in particular,
enjoying this wonderful, beautiful
day in the middle of Blackwater River
Forest.
Eating chinquapins and wild persimmons



me, myself and I
sweet little cookies all
rolled out on a board of flour
shaped in a big flat ball
tasty to the tongue,
oh what a delectable treat
shaped like a star, a bell,
or big fat gingerbread feet!


All hung out to dry,
draped like drying figs o'er bone-white leafless twigs
What name to choose? Which to use?
It's a lotta fun to be more than one!
I can be the turtle when it's time to hurtle
my-sef softly and slowly gently and lowly
through the tall grass on gleaming brass
but later I might bring myself to a spring
of showers and bowers and green ivy towers
Where April flowers bloom in misty twilight's gloom
With the brotherly love of Phil's gentle glove
Worn in Unity and with much impunity
Who might then As a Novice in Zen
Study to find the Way of which the Masters say
will lead to enlightenment.
But ah shucks--a spear doth then appear
To ask what light in yon window breaks...
Cutting through the corn one frosty october morn?
So the question still remains;
Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going?
Am I only One? Am I many?
Will this Path lead to enlightenment?



tracks imprinted patterns woven among the rocks and caves old bones making note of long forgotten graves no one can say I was not here my tracks my self will prove I myself someday will probe into my ancient groove





Your Self Portrait I worked and worked and worked for years and years and years, meticulously drawing lines and putting on paint, filling in spaces both positive and negative. Worried a lot about perspective, composition and values. "Since this is a Self Portrait," I thought, "I must be the best that I can be. I want this to be true... a good likeness... of me." So time went by. I labored long, carefully adding layer upon layer of color and doing all I possibly could do. To paint a worthy Self Portrait, with your approval in view. Then finally one day, "it's done," I said, "there's nothing more I can do."Stepping back at last to look at me, what I saw was You.



Ah the sweet, quiet solitude of this cove
nothing but blue skies above.
Birds singing,
waves of warm salty ocean gently lapping
against the soft sand under thirsty feet.
The morning is early,
little curls of mist still cling to
the air among the branches along the
shore where birds play-
tittering and twittering
in forests of breeze stirred leaves.
-odmmb



Aha! So!
That poor wretch out there was done in by a
GREMLIN!!!!.
That's gotta be the same little green creature
that nobody can see doing it's work
The one that wrecks the whole house
and makes it look like a pigsty
When she's slaved all day over a hot stove and
for no good reason makes her start to cry
and she can't, to save her name,
think of one good reason why.
That's gotta be the monster who's to blame
When all the week's house money goes
down the drain
and the power gets turned off along with the water.
and she can't even find a dad-burned quarter
to flip to find out if she should or she shouldn't.
and even if she would anyway she couldn't.
Everything would fall into place with perfect logical sense
if that little green GREMLIN did'nt make him so dense
She'd understand HIM and he'd have a little more respect
for a mis-understood woman who's just about wrecked!
(Now don't go asking about "that's my sign," burnip
It's right there in plain sight on that purple-top turnip!)
-odmmb





No bowl or fork needed
Don't have to be weeded
No worry on dust and dirt
Knowing what that stuff's worth
No spit and polish
Just mother earth
Trees and shrubs
Shucks and shells
Bathe in rain
Drink from wells
Children of the morning
Live in the joy of it all!
-odmmb


Said an early greek philosopher:
(in fragments he spoke)
things are all packed in together;
Drawn back together when broke.
Infinite.
None could be distinguished:
No matter how small
Always a smaller
No matter how tall
Always a taller.
Always something greater
than that which is great
Always more
Than tons and tons of weight.
But with regard to separating off,
Let us think forsooth
From the outlook of our senses
We cannot judge the truth.
-odmmb


Cities, fields,
suns, and moons
along with all the rest
All that is worst,
all that is best.
Appearing
to be fabrication
Wrestling
with fascination.
"What is called "birds' milk" is
the white of the egg."
-odmmb

------------------------


He'd just got him a brand new motor
so excited he could hardly wait
To get it on the back of the boat
and get on the river with bait
which he forgot, you might know
though he didn't forget the beer
He really stocked up on that stuff
(which threw him outta gear)
But to get on back to the story
I came in here to tell
He took off from the dock
like a bat right out of a bell
He made his turn and smoothly
out upon the open stream
This Motor might be bought on time
but it ran like a fisherman's dream
The poor unfortunate idiot
suddenly heard a sickening "PLOP!"
And blurbally glub, glub, glub. Silence
As the motor came loose and dropped
It sank down so many fathoms
or feet or yards or whatever
To the bottom of them black waters
that he heard a bird scream, "Never!"
He could'nt swim a lick
He couldn't dive down to search
He sat there drunk and crying
left in a hopeless lurch
But at least he did have one thing left
The infernal time-payment plan
He spent the next two years
paying through the nose like a man!
-odmmb


Crawled into a little black hole
and pulled it in on top of me;
Hibernated for forty-two years
beneath
the Zee-zider-zeeee.
When I awoke and opened my mouth
to yawn a black hole of a yawn,
Swallowed a spider whose web was spun
all over the shadowy dawn.
Pushed off the world and flew out yonder
where the stars are born and bred,
Gathered a garland around my neck
A twinkling tiara for my head
Now queen of all I survey, and
Feeling very droll
Out in the middle of the milky way
In my own little black hole!
:-) -odmmb


hmmmm...
Very familiar!!! (: )
I think I know you from somewhere...
Was that you who came through the garden
And knocked on my back door?
Did we have tea and scones together
out under the chestnut tree?
Did we laugh and tease and poke fun and
Did you plant a little kiss on Me?
Did I giggle and say, "git outta here
before I kick you out?!"
And did you laugh and grab me up,
Leaving me with no doubt
That maybe YOU, you old bard of old,
Might my dreams to fulfil 'em;
Aw SHUCKS!
HOw I Shakes and quakes at
sight of thy Speare!
You just gotta be my William!
-odmmb

----------------------------


Alas, 'tis true I have gone here and there
from pillar to post as they say
and made myself a motley pesky pest
I, with mine own thoughts have
made no affections my behest;
Most true it is that I have maimed a jade-
sent some driftwood askatter,
But these blenches always are
a somewhat different matter!
No worse mine appetite though:
Mine old plastic makeshift molars forever
grind on these decks, for not to
mine own pitiful posies
would'st I choose to be confin'd!
-odmmb



Sometime...
Maybe I will remember...
Maybe while washing dishes
I will let the warm water run over my hands
and day-dream a little and make more wishes
and think of far away and strange lands.
I'll look out the window and wonder
while the warm water keeps on running
Maybe hear in the distance approaching thunder.
And see our cat on the porch rail sunning.
I won't really register these little background events
Much too absorbed with the warmth in hand
I'll see little rainbows in the bubbles and scents
And dream of hourglasses emptied of sand
-odmmb


If Love Is Love-
do not let the marriage of true minds admit impediments,
for love is not love if it changes when circumstances change,
or if it gives up and dies when bad times arise.
Love is a constant that goes through the
blackest of storms unshaken,
Love is the star, the guiding star of
human hearts seeking themselves,
who find within the other
their own ideal self.
if it is love, it is forever.
Love's not a worshiper of Time,
nor it's fool,
and even though Time sweeps hours and weeks
and years o'er the rosy lips and cheeks,
Love bears it out,
even all the way to the Old Folks Home
where it is proven to flourish beneath
gnarled and bony old hands clasped together
for one last time upon the shawl across the lap.
So Years from Now,
Indeed years and years from now,
yet even endless eons, we love.
-odmmb

---------------------------------

From David's Psalms:
There is a tree planted by rivers of water
whose leaf does not wither
like the dead, dry chaff which is
blown away by the wind.
the Earth People,
they laid them down and slept;
underneath the sheltering leafy
living arms of the evergreen tree.
They awakened;
They were fed daily, and sustained with
abundance of golden wheat;
they communed there upon the earth with their own
heart and they had gladness in their soul.
They always laid them down in peace for sleep:
they were not afraid of ten thousands nor of
vain imaginings who set themselves against
them round about, for You made them dwell in
safety. For You have no pleasure in wickedness:
Neither shall evil dwell with You.. --
-odmmb

-----------------------------------------------

Last tuesday the washing machine broke down
"We can't pay no repairman," said He with a frown.
"Get me my toolbox, honey!" "We gotta save money!"
He poked and jabbed and cussed and raved
taking off this and that part.
In between bleeding and bandaiding breaks
He fnally got down to the heart
The nuts and bolts and guts exposed
that machine didn't look so hot
"I see the trouble!" He shouted with glee,
"Looka here honey, look what I got!"
He held it up with pride,
A DIAPER PIN! That's what it was!
gumming up the gears inside!
O conquering hero triumphant!
You've done it again,
You've saved our doggone hide!
Then came the re-assembly...the tricky part
Putting humpty together again
"Get me some ice water honey!" he yelled,
(his voice was full of pain.)
Well he fumed and fussed and cussed and worked
'til finally at last!
Our big brave boaster
got it together again with enough pieces left over
to build us a brand new toaster!
-odmmb

----------------------------------------

Said the Mad Cat:
Maybe I'm Mad
Mad as a hat
but all I am
Is a mistreated cat
They're gone all day
and I'm all alone
I get so lonely
when they're not home
When I feel frisky
and want to play
They shove me aside
and say go away
When I want to sleep
In the morning sun
they want to play
and have some fun
The girls get the dolls
and try to dress me up
they make me drink tea
from a tiny teacup
I finally escape
And find me a place
where I can groom my frazzled face
So maybe I'm Mad
A very Mad Cat
but what Cat wouldn't
if treated like that!-
-odmmb

-----------------------------

Summer
That time of the year between Spring and Fall
When it's too hot to work so we go to the mall
A time that was invented for Lovers & Kids,
hotdogs and mustard and pickle jar lids
A time for baseball and fast hotrod tracks
peanuts and popcorn and sweet crackerjacks,
for tanning on beaches and burnt blistered backs,
Or high mountain camping in the cool Adirondacks
Too close for comfort, the sun get's too near
So we load up the car and pack up our gear
We head for the mountains or head for the shore
To the very same places we've all been before!
It's Mary and Johnny sitting in a tree
kay eye ess ess eye in gee
And Mom and Dad standing on a tee,
forget about golf, play diddle_dee
It's backyard barbeques broiling on grills
No dining with candles, laces, or frills
just red-checkered plastic, paper cups and plates,
Big bottles of pop, and pickles and dates
Screaming and splashing and diving in the pool
Dogs jumping and barking and dripping in drool
Musical ice cream carts looking so cool
kids forgetting all about school
So hurry up autumn, we need a little breath
all this fun will work us to death
we have to go back to our job for a rest
but of all the seasons, summer is best!
-odmmb

-----------------------------------------------

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Sent all the above^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^





This is the starting place, Euphemia! :-)






Funny thing about things
one day look bright and clever
next look like dull brass rings
facing the future forever
cloudy days dripping tears
turn into bright rainbow sparkle
Long drawn out dreary years
turn into rollercoaster riding
burning red embers roasting
ears of corn on hot charcoal
little kids playing and tumbling
turn into old granny people mumbling
into chins all soppy and wet
just like the ones in the highchairs get
throwing peas and playing in mush
while nurses and doctors run and rush
but never mind about all those funny things.
Grab a hold of the gold in dull brass rings.
-odmmb

------------------------------

I looked up and saw you
when you came in through the door
my heart turned into something
like nothing ever known before
My whole body melted.
A burning fire of desire
swept over the whole room.
Every little movement suddenly became
an old silent film in slow motion,
a tragedy dramatized.
Deafening silence followed a
shattering sonic boom.
But when you spoke I turned away
as if I hadn't heard a word.
Time stood still.
It became absurd.
I could not speak.
My tongue was paralyzed..
My knees turned into jelly.
My fingers turned to thumbs.
My eyes turned into caverns
Yes, my whole life.....turned.
Around and away from you.
What else could you do?
You turned away too.
Now you're gone.
Forever.
What devilish demon struck me
thus and so
depriving me of my life and forcing me to go
Throughout all eternity empty and forlorn,
a ghost ship floating with
sails all tattered and torn, no life aboard,
tall mast stark and bare,
no other ship in the night
ever passing there ............The frail and thin old man shook his head trying to remember something. He held up one shaky old hand for a moment then let it fall down beside him. The cool silence was broken for a moment by a faint bubbling sound. Then all was quiet again and nothing moved for ten minutes. Suddenly the wind picked up and the old houseboat began gently rocking to and fro...to and fro...to and fro....a seagull looked down and screeched as it flew low over the deck then out over the salty waters of the bayou looking for alewives.
-odmmb





Funny thing about things
one day look bright and clever
next look like dull brass rings
facing the future forever
cloudy days dripping tears
turn into bright rainbow sparkle
Long drawn out dreary years
turn into rollercoaster riding
burning red embers roasting
ears of corn on hot charcoal
little kids playing and tumbling
turn into old granny people mumbling
into chins all soppy and wet
just like the ones in the highchairs get
throwing peas and playing in mush
while nurses and doctors run and rush
but never mind about all those funny things.
Grab a hold of the gold in dull brass rings.
-odmmb

------------------------------

I looked up and saw you
when you came in through the door
my heart turned into something
like nothing ever known before
My whole body melted.
A burning fire of desire
swept over the whole room.
Every little movement suddenly became
an old silent film in slow motion,
a tragedy dramatized.
Deafening silence followed a
shattering sonic boom.
But when you spoke I turned away
as if I hadn't heard a word.
Time stood still.
It became absurd.
I could not speak.
My tongue was paralyzed..
My knees turned into jelly.
My fingers turned to thumbs.
My eyes turned into caverns
Yes, my whole life.....turned.
Around and away from you.
What else could you do?
You turned away too.
Now you're gone.
Forever.
What devilish demon struck me
thus and so
depriving me of my life and forcing me to go
Throughout all eternity empty and forlorn,
a ghost ship floating with
sails all tattered and torn, no life aboard,
tall mast stark and bare,
no other ship in the night
ever passing there ............The frail and thin old man shook his head trying to remember something. He held up one shaky old hand for a moment then let it fall down beside him. The cool silence was broken for a moment by a faint bubbling sound. Then all was quiet again and nothing moved for ten minutes. Suddenly the wind picked up and the old houseboat began gently rocking to and fro...to and fro...to and fro....a seagull looked down and screeched as it flew low over the deck then out over the salty waters of the bayou looking for alewives.
-odmmb