Rooster Speaks/Sun Fan

Rooster Speaks

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Ashes pure as light cast off                                                                                                                 at early morning’s flight

the day of my departure from                                                                                                                     the land of Midday sun where,

skies are rarely gray mostly every day where,                                                                             rest assured your health will be ok

you’ll find a Walgreen’s store every which way                                                                                                                           no matter where you look

where four corners can be found.    

If you love palm trees, slash pine, oak and                                                                                   saw palmetto you’ll

enjoy the scenery for                                                                                                                     mile upon mile upon high mileage (Double your pleasure)

on both sides of the street for such long distances!

If you love it’s unabashed sameness you’ll think you’ve died and gone

to heaven;  

“’But, not I,’” pipped up the cock eyed rooster with                                                                          strange reply

I had never heard him speak.  Still, I had to agree with what he had to say.  

Sun Fan

“I’m not a big sun fan anymore.                                                                                                             I prefer to walk on the shadowy

side of the street where I                                                                                                             belong since, basically

I’m just a shadow looking for some shade  

to lie down under and sleep

beneath a tree I know

I’ll

someday

  find.

 

Reflections

One day, two and a half weeks after the swelling in my knee had lessened I found myself looking through the six foot wide slider opening to our pool area /at the hundred degree world outside/wondering what to do with my time. 

 I remembered a phrase I’d heard long ago/on the hottest days of summer/when I worked outdoors for the railroad. 

“Looks hotter than a two peckered billy goat out their today, doesn’t it kid?”  

But, it didn’t stop us from working.

 …..

So I took the plunge into the hot zone/deciding to redirect two water jets along the side walls of the pool/ (a foot and a half below the surface of the water) to a sharper downward angle to better push algae on the bottom toward the drainage pipe/at the far bottom end of the pool.  

What could be easier work/for a man two and a half weeks after total knee replacement surgery?

After returning from the tool box with a short, regular head screwdriver I knelt on one knee, my bad knee thrust straight back.  

Leaning over the edge of the pool/I guided the screwdriver into the eye of the nozzle/wedged it against the insides wall/and gently turned.  

When the jet’s ‘eye’ cracked loose/I cranked it downward to the left.

When the surface turbulence above the jet disappeared/a shadow world of spinning phalanxes, galaxies/black holes appeared from nothingness/their forms wandering aimlessly/hastening destruction or reforming forms torn apart/circles growing tails inside revolving shadows/subtle shadings of waves WITHIN the water clearly seen/patterns changing always changing/light absorbed from the sun cast down/onto the bottom of the pool/a photographic negative revealing details; moving shadows clear as night/the interplay of sunlit water, air, blue sky earth and liquid space had emerged.

Wow!  An invisible world becoming visible for me to see/all because I moved a water jet!

 How wonderful the world can be! 

Then I wondered.  Am I taking too much percoset?  

It didn’t matter.  One more jet to adjust.  We’ll see how it goes!

 continued … 

The Creature From the Black Canal

They warned me about the alligator floating around the canal in back of the house. I scoffed at their advice.

I needed to whack the weeds on the bank leading down to the canal. I waited until the sun dropped below the tree line to start the job. Who wants to whack weeds in ninety nine degree heat?

 

At the shoreline I turned away from the water to get the weeds under the banana tree when I felt a tug on my leg then, sharp pain!

I looked down. My leg was between its teeth! The last thing I remember was water being forced into my nostrils and a sense of hopelessness.

I woke up sputtering!! I thought I was drowning! Then I realized I had poured an entire bottle of Fuji water onto my face most of it having drained into my nose.

While coughing violently, I happened to look down at the canal where I saw two giant marbles a little smaller than tennis balls floating on the surface.

When a paddle shaped, warty snout with two puncture holes at the end and what appeared to be thousands of teeth (although there could have been more) began to rise out of the water, I knew I had come face to face with a big alligator! A big fugator!

Still coughing violently I scanned the area for a limb to throw at the big fucker when the hammock I’d been sleeping on flipped me!

The canvas had wrapped itself around me. I was trapped like an ear of corn!!

I swayed like a pendulum for around 30 seconds before coming to rest my head 12 inches or so above ground.  I stared down at the Gator, my world turned completely upside down, my arms clasped along both sides of my body feeling totally helpless.

What made matters worse was, the Fuji bottle had lodged itself below my waist at a very bad place which was causing me a lot of pain!

The gator took two steps onto land its beakey snout with all those teeth leading the way.

The reticular area of my brain was thoroughly confused. Since fight or flight was not an option I struggled.

“Would you like some cheeze and crackers?” she said.

Her appearence or the sound of her voice startled the gator. Quick as a slippery bean pole on the Fourth of July the only things left to see were white water froth, little whirl pools and eddies and the yaw of its rounded beak and those teeth (!)slinking down below the inky surface of that canal.

She didn’t look down quickly enough to see its teeth before they disappeared. She thought the movement of the water was caused by turtles. She warned me again about the gator.

A half hour later, finally free from the clutches of the hammock I ate two cracker and cheezes and threw up.

Crossroad South the Greek Island

When I passed into the flat land of Florida, where I saw palm trees and abundant sunshine … so strangely different than what I had lived with all my life I thought, “… maybe my life will take on a different look, just as these trees and the white hot sun of this new land … .”  continued …

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I made my way further south to the coast where I settled into a community of Greeks.  A island of Greek culture apart from the surrounding world.  People who searched for sponges in the warm waters of the Gulf, built boats and told endless stories through the ancient language of beauty and thought.

Stories that captivated my mind even though I didn’t understand a word.

Their words?  They were music to my ears.  Melody and cadence that rose and fell filled … I supposed …  with adventure and humor the details hidden from my mind yet, endlessly interesting or hilariously funny.  Like an adventurer from another land might feel at first encounter with blues music captivated by its power but unknowing of it’s history or intent.

I spent of my days working on the giant .. continued …

 

Crossroad Further South

… i ran away into a night of bitter cold determined to hitch 1,200 miles away from that cold winter bitch to another place where maybe I’d find the warm nurturing wind I felt before the roadblock I encountered at the crossroad …

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I didn’t know if i could leave my frustration and rage behind but it didn’t matter.  All that mattered was that I was on the road away from the past. 

As I watched the miles fly by through the rolling hills of Ohio and Kentucky the mountains of Tennessee and Georgia recollections of the past streamed further and further behind. 

I existed for the moment.  I gave no thought to my future life. 

I had no ideas. Nothing had yet filled the void.  

I consoled the vacancy of my expectations with the thought that the future will make itself known. 

When I passed into the flat land of Florida, where I saw palm trees and abundant sunshine so strangely different than what I had lived with all my life I thought, “… maybe my life will take on a different look, just as these trees and the white hot sun of this new land … .”

continued …

Crossroad Journey South

I had arrived at the first crossroad of my life where my dreams of the straight and narrow were instantly transformed like some strange algorithm; the plus signs suddenly replaced by unknowns continued … 

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The Journey South

After the crossroad I became a half assed ‘’grad’’.  I lived in the haze between night and day with blues and jazz music in smoke filled rooms and minds, freaks of the night, drunks and misfits, thieves who lived in the underworld where I had taken refuge.  

I had become part of a  crowd who, with single minded intent, killed themselves from the medicine in their needles.  

I searched for a road away from that life when one night in frustration and despair I gave up the fight.  

Determined to break away from my self imposed bonds I donned my army coat, grabbed my scarf, threw away those ridiculous looking cowboy boots, scraped together a couple of hundred bucks and ran away into a night of bitter cold determined to hitch 1,200 miles away from that cold winter bitch I had grown to know knew so well, to another place where maybe I’d find the warm nurturing wind I felt before the roadblock I encountered at the crossroad.  

continued …

Diary Of A Madman 2 1/2

Do you have agoraphobia sometimes? I do.  But not today.  I was in the city.  I didn’t have to be afraid of any agriculture while i was there.  Are you afraid of agriculture??

I stay inside my house for weeks at a time.  The corn field out back terrifies me.

 Jeeze, I’m so sleepy. I was up at two o’clock last night.

Thank god I got up.  One of those small tear shaped light bulbs somehow clicked on.  maybe the cat did it.  it laid against the bottom of my couch on the side where it was hard to see.

When i got up at two I saw a tiny bit of smoke rising up from the couch.  I thought it was temporary but it smelled really bad.  I bent down to look. There was a tiny orange burning spot about the size of 4 pin heads down there on the bottom edge.

Left alone it probably would have engulfed the couch and killed us all probably including the cat too.  But, I have super awareness. Things jump out at me all the time like that.

Like, one day I was listening to the radio in my car and I changed stations and the same song was playing at exactly the same spot on a different station! Weird … but that’s my life.

Wull … I’m glad I drank too much coke earlier that evening the day before before dinner when I was really thirsty after having mowed the lawn in the hot Florida sun.  If I hadn’t mowed the lawn, got thirsty and drank too much coke, I wouldn’t have had all that caffein in my body, so i wouldn’t have gotten up at two a.m.  by now i’d probably be dead and you  wouldn’t even be reading this!

But so what? My life isn’t worth anything anyway.  I’m afraid of agriculture,  I’m obsessed with hosing the back porch plus lately I’ve been unsteady on my feet.

I’ve been really depressed because nobody came to the birthday party I threw.  My mom wasn’t even there!  But I forgave her.  Being at my birth was more than enough.  Plus, she hasn’t been around for a long time.

Wull … there’s one thing I know for sure Jennifer,  where there’s smoke there’s fire!  You better believe it!

hey! Lovers of silliness!   go see little monster girl.  she’s pretty and she has nice hands and she draws scary cartoons.  she made me write all this looney plop!  https://lmgcomic.wordpress.com

Crossroad … The Journey South

 … i ran away into a night of bitter cold determined to 
hitch 1,200 miles away from that
cold winter bitch to another place where 
maybe I’d find the warm nurturing wind I
felt before the roadblock I encountered at the …

crossroad …

Unknown

I didn’t know if i could

leave my frustration and rage

behind but,

It didn’t

matter …

…..

All that mattered was that I was

on the road away from the

past …

*****

As I watched the miles fly by through the

rolling hills of Ohio and

Kentucky … the mountains of

Tennessee and Georgia …

recollections of the

past streamed further and further

behind …

…..

I existed for the

moment …

…..

I gave no thought to

my future

life …

…..

i had no ideas …

…..

nothing had yet

filled the

void …

…..

i consoled the vacancy of my

expectations with the thought that …

the future will make itself

known …

*****

When I passed into the flat land of

Florida, where I saw

palm trees and abundant

sunshine … so strangely different than

what I had lived with all my

life …  I thought, “… maybe my life will take on a

different look, just as these

trees and the

white hot sun of this new

land … .”

…..

continued …

The Journey South After the Crossroad

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… I had arrived at the first crossroad of my life where my dreams of the straight and narrow were instantly transformed like some strange algorithm; the plus signs suddenly replaced by unknowns …

My Journey South

After the crossroad, I became a half assed ‘’grad.’’  I lived in the haze between night and day with blues and jazz music, in smoke filled rooms and minds, freaks of the night with drunks, misfits, thieves who lived in the underworld that I had become part of.  A crowd who, with single minded intent,  killed themselves from the medicine in their needles while,  at the same time that cold hearted winter’s bitch kept stalking me ….

her wicked killing icy fingers relentlessly, reaching out to me,  the 

high pitched tinnitus in my ears,  her cackling intent beneath my struggle to live,  her

dancing fingers in relentless pursuit of my life blood her single minded intent, to

pull me down … 

…. on more than many nights.

I searched for a road away from that life when one night in frustration and despair I gave up the fight.

Determined to break away from my self imposed bonds I threw on my army coat and scarf, scraped together a couple hundred dollars and ran away into a night of bitter cold determined to hitch 1,200 miles away from the cold winter bitch to another place where maybe I’d find the warm nurturing wind I felt before the roadblock I encountered at the crossroad.

I didn’t know if i could leave my frustration and rage behind.  It didn’t matter.  All that mattered was that I was on the road away from the past. As I watched the miles fly by through the rolling hills of Ohio and Kentucky, the mountains of Tennessee and Georgia recollections of the past streamed further and further behind.

I existed for the moment.  I gave no thought to my future life.  I had no ideas.  Nothing had yet filled the void.  I consoled the vacancy of my expectations with the thought that … the future will make itself known.  All that mattered was that I was on a different path.

When I passed into the flat land of Florida where I saw palm trees and abundant sunshine, so strangely different than what I had lived with all my life I thought,  maybe my life will take on a different look just as these trees and the white hot sun of this new land.

I made my way further south to the coast where I settled into a community of Greeks, a little island of Greek culture apart from the surrounding world; people who searched for sponges in the warm waters of the Gulf, built boats and told endless stories of beauty and passion through the ancient language of beauty and thought.

Stories that captivated my mind even though I didn’t understand a word (Their words were music to my ears, melody and cadence that rose and fell filled, I supposed, with adventure and humor the details hidden from my mind yet, endlessly interesting or hilariously funny like an adventurer from another land might feel at first encounter with blues music, captivated by its power but unknowing of it’s history or intent.) Where in between the giant chalks that balanced the 70 foot shrimp boats above ground I gave maintenance to their hulls scraping barnacles from their underbellies, filling their cracked seams with braids of cotton pounded in with a wooden maul or dressing them out with coats of copper paint before returning them to gulf waters after a few days of R and R.

I was an ‘educated fool’ in their minds.  In their eyes I lacked common sense from too many books and time spent indoors learning instead of using the connection between hands and body and mind to accomplish work that could be seen and felt.  But they loved me anyway and I learned from the inclusion they gave me into their world.

While there, I met several Greek Gods.  There was the God of Recollection and Mirth who told stories vivid with color and emotion peppered with laughter and wide eyed expressions one minute, howling with laughter the next or speaking softly so as not to be heard by the imaginary characters who I supposed lived within the world of his recollections and dreams.  His words, the timbre of his voice, the ever changing forms of his face, the movements of his body generated a kind of energy he shared with all who gathered around him eager to hear him speak, to laugh and even cry,  anxious to absorb the energy he gave so freely.

There was the quiet Timber God who could resurrected dormant beings from within cubes of wood into shapes that appeared lifelike within the mind though static and unmoving in the outside world except for the shadows and the sun and the movement that surrounded it ever changing.  A thousand or two or maybe even three thousand years of knowledge flowed through his fingers and his body and mind.  Knowledge passed on by men and women who over countless generations had passed on to him bits of knowledge left behind from a never ending flow of seeds bearing the fruit of their existence.  Knowledge that streamed far into the past.  By his inheritance he made wood come alive!

Then there was a god/man who must have grown from Pericles or some Greek warrior or general.  He too possessed the birthright of the carpenter’s hands but it lived within his heart and I watched him drive himself so relentlessly to live that he lived all his years by midlife when he buried himself into the ground.

He was the one who showed me what life is or what life could be! He lived with abundance far beyond the stamina of the everyday person yet was possessed with gentleness made more potent by the contrast of his drive to embrace all there is in life.

Among the gods there was a goddess named Olympia.  A mountain of a woman, soft hearted yet steadfast, determined to feed and nurture all who came within her circle.  She gave all she had to others until one day in the white hot heat of summer her heart burst and she died when she lost her brother to his sad life unlived.

Her brother? … he rode the waters day after day reaching for a dream that was only a fantasy,  life lived without the flame of a dream … his fanciful aspirations the result of his infatuation with a false god who daily sucked dry larger and larger portions of his life until tinder dry,  flames consumed him and took Mount Olympia too.