I Guess It’s Just What You Believe …..

Don’t blame me, I can’t get this post to show double spaces between the paragraphs.  I think it looks terrible but … whaddya gonna do?  
Of course I have friends on Facebook!  We share the past like, we’re brothers and sisters.
So, one of my Facebook sisters wrote this piece as a comment to someone about some sheets that were advertised to help people sleep better.
Since I’m from a small town I’m aware that topics like these can become the focus of some pretty interesting conversations and points of view.
When I first read her comment I didn’t know what she was referring to with these sheets.  But I thought what she wrote was hilarious.  I tried to make up a conversation whereby I’d make a statement to fit what she had written … but I couldn’t do it.
So I decided to let it alone and post it as I first discovered it like … a little jewell.
The whole piece is so insanely funny and sweet and innocent and honest that I couldn’t help but want to share it. Maybe I’m the only person who feels this way in the whole world!  Still, I didn’t care.  I hope there are a few who enjoy it for what it is.
I told Karen I’d give her credit for writing it but in my haste to just get it posted yesterday I didn’t include her name.  I thought maybe there was a married name to go with her maiden name.
So, may I present from a “sister” of mine from the little town of Durand, Michigan the railroad center of the state this piece I titled:
I Guess It’s Just What You Believe In To Help You Sleep
By Karen VanKuren
…  I think this is just a ploy to buy their sheets.  There are tons of reasons why people don’t sleep good at night.  It all depends on the person.  
I have finally found that if I turn off the tv at night,,, I don’t have something in the background to wake me while sleeping.. I now sleep all night (except for having to pee 3 times during the night,, haha),,, but the pitch black does cause your body to produce more melatonin…
I also like my bedroom cool and I’ve been sleeping all night for about a year now since I changed my ways…. Come daylight,, I put a fuzzy thick sock over my eyes also.. The darker it is,, the deeper sleep I get..
I was wearing an eye mask,, but the thing that goes around my head over my hair was breaking my hair off after a while and I had a whole new hairdo for a while till it all grew out again,,, so now I just put the thick, soft, furry sock over my yes..
Now as far as what they said about Alzheimer’s and sleep,, I believe,, but (I’m) not so sure about those sheets…. :) Just like the pillow guy.. I have friends that bought them and love them,, and friends that hate them….
Just my opinion but, I guess it’s just what you believe in to help you sleep.
Right on, Karen! Right on ….. !

The Tragedy: The Last Time I Saw Janey

The last time I saw Janey was at a birthday party she threw for her nephew one Saturday in late fall.
Here’s what happened that day and how it figures into the tragedy.
Picture yourself walking across that wide front porch to the front door.  The door opens so, you cross the threshold and step inside.
Immediately to the left, stairs rise up to a landing then right, ten or so steps to the second floor hall.
At the end of the hall downstairs, the kitchen looks like an modern, abstract rectangular picture with yellow walls, a red melmac table with curved chrome legs, a black and white wall clock of a cat, its tail slowly moving side to side and the shadows and sounds of moving mothers.
Halfway to the kitchen on the right would originally have been called the parlor or in today’s parlance we call the living room, where June threw the best birthday party I ever attended; one continuous strand of low level activity moving forward, always moving forward, never boring, exactly like their summer yard parties except instead of drinking booze and playing poker we were eating cake, drinking Coke while playing kids games like pin the tail on the donkey or dropping clothes pins into a milk bottle,
Janey wandered about engendering herself to every boy making the games fun by teasing us, laughing at our mistakes, encouraging us when we did something well then drawing everyone’s attention to the lucky boy receiving a prize.
By the end of the day I think every boy had fallen in love with Janey.
With candles blazing at just the right moment, Janey brought the birthday cake into our midst. We gathered around staring down at the cake, our mouths watering, the room quiet for the first time all day.
Holding the knife over the cake Janey whetted our appetites, teasing each of us one by one about the hungry looks on our faces even accusing some of us of drooling.
Skilled tease that she was, she knew how to increase our appetites poking and prodding until I could hardly wait for my first piece. I knew I could go back as many times as I wanted.
Within seconds, I was back asking for more and more and more until I was completely satisfied.
After cake, we had the freedom to do whatever we wanted. We could stay inside and play games or go outside and run around getting grass stains on our pants.
I stayed inside to explore the house starting in the kitchen with its yellow walls the square green asbestos tiles on the floor, the old fashioned faucets, above a deep galvanized sink, a window above the sink that looked down on the grassy area where they had their parties and the back door to the right where steps leading down to and up from the grassy area carried either food and drink or full bladders.
Just outside the kitchen in the hallway to the right, a short door opened into a space beneath the stairs. I opened the door and peered inside, a creepy dark place, the air stale, hard to breathe, so dark even with the door open, it seemed the entire space was devoid of light.  I couldn’t even see the wall opposite the open door.
That place gave me the creeps.  I quickly shut the door afraid to look inside any longer.
I had to pee so I asked Janey if I could use the bathroom. The one downstairs was busy so she told me to use the bathroom upstairs.  continued ….
Next:  The Air Stale With Darkness … Death

Without Love

Without Love

… we make our way across
the frozen tundra of
our hopeful desires

unaware that beauty rests
just below the surface of
our painful hearts;

a streak of light unseen
nestled within each throb of hurt
the light of hope

the knowledge that Love exists
only were it not for
the pain that comes with it,

verification of Love’s existence
its very presence the other half needed
to complete the whole,

darkness and light
giving form to our illusions
the clarity to continue unfettered

the price we pay for knowledge of truth?
the dark pain we feel
the price we pay to find life’s meaning.

We walk into the fuel can
of our hearts unknowing
the air stifling and flammable

pock marked faces
the scars of infidelity
the permanance of death

the knowledge of wasted time
the loss of hope
the bitter taste of lost love,

the random scars of life and love
all beauty and all pain

giving meaning to all consuming desire
beautiful with lust or anger
the call of bliss and freedom

the prisons of our minds
the sight of everything good given meaning

yet steeped in painful search along the way

the choices that we make
the human condition;

Are they real or an illusion?

Without love/life has no meaning.
Without pain/there can be no love.




20160806_102243 (1)

Hideous nature, life …

Ghastly in its death bed/its beseiging compass run/bewildering with its struggles/writhing in its pain/desire seeking fire/rifting terror’s delight/severed thinking/thoughts of creepy crawlies/struggling to survive/against the masses …

There’ll be no full moon tonight to guide
the single masted ship that’s sailing/saw tooth tigers biting wind/
forcers bringing winds prevailing
tossed about by slightest night time breezes blowing/
dreamer’s hearts
with sad


Dark clouds racing/every shade of gray/
buffetted inside by deepest

freeze …

Going Mad

I never would have ever thought that some day I’d go mad!

I mean, who does?

I know a few “Madders.”  It caught them off guard too!

Maybe going mad is just another road sign along the way.  In which case;  GREAT!  I’m so glad I’m going mad!

(Not really … )

Going mad isn’t exactly funny.  In fact, going mad isn’t funny at all!

Unless you’re some sick bastard who enjoys watching someone else’s pain … in the form of sheer madness.

(Ha Ha … Jason’s wife just took the kids and moved to Rio de Janiero!  I bet he’s totally fucked up!  Ha Ha Ha … .)

So you see, I don’t think there’s anything good about going mad!

There’s nothing to learn from the experience except what it feels like to slowly slowly cyclonic darker, leaned closer to,  mind and body’s uneasy truce, surrender …..

Horrified silence …


Tragedy: The Final Fall


After cake,  we had the freedom to do whatever we wanted.  We could stay inside and play games or go outside and run around getting grass stains on our pants.

I stayed inside exploring the house. The big yellow kitchen with the old fashioned faucets, the window above the sink looking out to the grassy area where they had their parties.  A dark space below the steps behind a door I thought lead to nowhere.

I had to pee before I went outside so I asked June if I could use the bathroom.  The one downstairs was busy.  She told me where the other bathroom was upstairs.

I creaked up the stairs to the landing, turned right and rose up the steps to the second floor.

I stood at the top of the steps.  I can still see clear as a bell both ends of the hallway.

To my left just past the top of the stairs the bathroom door opened to black and white tiles, green walls, a pedestal sink and an old cast iron tub with curled feet.

I crept softly to the right toward two doors next to each other along the left wall,  half way to the end.

One of the doors was open.  I looked inside.  A nice big bedroom with a high ceiling.  A good sized window looking down at the sidewalk.  The same sidewalk that June and my dad walked on around the block that night.  The night that it all began.

I continued walking to the bedroom at the end of the hall where I stared at gray light slicing through the three dormer windows.  The light seemed to anchor itself onto the wood floor casting a dreary pall throughout the room except in the corners where what light there was could not penetrate the dark gloom of that third bedroom where later I was to learn that Jim had blown his head off with a shotgun.



Within the Fractures Of His Mind

after death consumed Her his needs festered and grew to phantasmagorical proportions …continued …

Desperate to satisfy his


 he stole Time

from his

landlady …


he milked it from the

telephone during her

numerous but



away …


of course she discovered his

deception …


he hid behind his deceit


it’s easy to see lies

when they stand


in the middle of a

room …


her hatred boiled

over …

it shattered his roomed

confinement …

she couldn’t stand to be

around him  any


she hated the air he

breathed … !

she gave no

succor to his

loneliness …


there came a day when

she vanquished him from


four walls she sold

him …


she banished him from her

brick Victorian space


when he turned his back


burned every vestige of his life

in the front

yard …


she watched with calm detachment while

every remnant of his history

rose up in flames and black

smoke …

lost forever to the


that awaits us

all …


another death had


him …

another relocation awaited

him …


Now, he lives within the

fire and the demons

he could not

fight …

inside the void of the


he fell into …


through windows into darkness

he seeks nothing

that can be

found …


he’s a sad and lonely little boy


lost somewhere in

time …


an old and toothless man


wanders inside


within the

fractures of his

mind …


Bright Night Revealed


It seemed that as contrast deepened

i could see more clearly subtle and great beauty

buried within the world around me …

… and

it seemed like

the more beauty i saw

the more distinct and easy it was to

see  …


… so i looked more deeply


 discovered beauty trapped within

degradation and loss …


when i became aware …

beauty was set

free …


it seemed i was


a contest of wills


absorption and freedom


knowledge and lack of unawareness between

light and darkness …


i wondered …

if beauty and light

would always be threatened by the

brutal loneliness of

the dark … ?


will they travel forever as two parallel

lines … ?


…  or, does light have a


while darkness waits for

light to fill its

void … ?

  perhaps the driving force behind every creative act is


light blown outwards

will fill the darkest

coves …


… perhaps when


trapped within the rape and annihilation of darkness …

is set free …

the mystery of darkest nights

beauty …

will finally be

revealed …


i felt myself pulled down and down and down … with a sense of finality, i gave myself over to this mysterious force …  and
abyss ….
continued …


….. i kept falling, drawn deeper into the earth …

….. my arms flailing my voice wailing, ”why, WHY … WHY … ?”

….. when softest voice growing slowly louder began repeating …  youyouyouYOU YOU YOU … i sensed a calming air … a single light seen flickering through black emptiness far into the distance … 

….. then, pulsing … deep… vibrations filled the air around me and in the chambers of my heart …  my senses dimmed, my eyes slowly closing i drifted into darkness  ….. and slept … 

….. upon wakening, I found myself within in a tunnel lying supine on a sled with curving sides … a sloping incline before my eyes stretching further than far away beyond the reach of time … into distant nothing … 

…..  to the right i saw limitless numbers of doors beside the long incline …  

….. a voice inside my head asked if i wanted to go …

….. i said, “Yes … “