Approaching the Intersection of Fife and 12th

I dreamed I was riding a unicycle
barely staying up
I swished the wheel side to side, twisting my body

It was hard to balance
and match my husband's pace
walking beside me
Plus
we were going up hill

***

I held my daughter's hand
as we walked to her day care the next morning

She called out to the pumpkins on doorsteps
And I saw a man on a unicycle
Cross our path
Effortlessly gliding downhill

A reading from Southern Living

The first day back after vacation

She tried to kick me when I said it was time for bed.
But, I threatened to call in the Daddy for backup and she sulked upstairs.

The day care said she threw fits all day and didn't take a nap.
And when I finally sat down and listened to her she said,

"I was laying down in the bed and crying at Kim's house.
I couldn't find you.

And Kathy said, What's wrong?
And I said she's not here.

My mommy's not here."

Camp Seymour Lunch Note #1

Remembering Miss Mable

I remember Floyd feeding Tippy hot dog slices. But, I mostly remember Mable, her glasses, her voice, her hair and her house.

I can see the trees and the chicken yard and the carport beside the door.
I remember shelling butterbeans with her and Grandmama until my nails pulled away from the bed. I remember shucking corn with her (fewer injuries but more worms). I remember always being excited when I heard her at the door.

I remember Grandmama taking me to Mable's house after school one day and she had a big pot of chicken and pastry going. She found out I that it didn't know what it was and so she made it just so I could have some. She also made strawberry shortcake for the occasion.

Mable always seemed to have an opinion about anything. She also seemed to say that Campho Phenique was the solution to every ailment.

Mable died while Daphne and I were in Hawaii with Grandmama and Granddaddy. Grandmama stayed in the hotel room most of the day. Grandaddy arranged for Daphne and I to go to dinner alone so he could be with Grandmama. He told me what had happened and said they just needed some time to remember her.

Peanut Butter in the Toaster

Why'd you have to go explore the toaster
What a way to burn the peanut butter
Stay outta there
Stay outta there

Why'd you go to paint your eyelids
With the black and blue bruises
Stay outta there
Stay outta there

I have no answer to your questions
I can't respond to your fit
Why'd I go
You told me not to.
That's all
that's it.

I close this room to you
Forbidden Kitchen
Forbidden
Do you hear
Stay outta there

Frost Park Chalk-Off with Father and Daughter.

http://skeletalremainssketchbook.blogspot.com/2011/06/frost-park-chalk-off-entry.html

Things my Mother Taught Me

DISCLAIMER: Listing Advice does not imply endorsement.

1. They can't get your goat if they don't know where you're hiding it.

2. Pour heaping coals of kindness on your enemy.

3. In an ideological stalemate, "Maybe so" is a good phrase to settle things... and it really makes your opponent mad.

4. Don't give them anything to talk about.

5. Never do anything for love.

6. Don't waste your time being homesick. Because once you get back home, you'll just miss being there.

7. Don't hate the people who hurt you because it only hurts you.

8. Have compassion - no matter what.

9. A little drinking is okay. But, too much and you'll just spend the whole party throwing up in the bathroom.

10. Mental health days are absolutely necessary.

11. If you push your body too much, it'll break down. But, if you don't feel like slowing down, don't worry. Your body will stop you eventually.

12. Don't ever judge anyone by their appearance. At the same, know that you'll always be judged by the way you look.

13. There's nothing wrong with doing your own thing.

14. Sometimes, it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

15. The biggest troublemakers are often leaders in disguise.

16. It's rude to tell people what to do. That's why Jesus spoke in parables. Tell someone a good story and they'll get the message they need.

17. Always ask yourself, "How would I like to hear what I'm about to say?"

18. They're just jealous.

19. Send back the overdone steak, return the pants that fall apart, insist on being treated like a real person.

20. Your gifts should be shared with others. That's why got them in the first place.

21. Leave the party while you're still having a good time.

Teapot Epiphany

Since Christmas I have been burning my fingers
trying to remove the metal filter from the pot
so that the tea wouldn't steep too long

and end up bitter.

And today it occurred to me that I could pour
all of the tea out of the pot
and into two large mugs.

After all, the dainty teacups are really more
a vestigial accessory to the beverage.

I'm big enough to take my tea
in a way that suits me now.

I'm not serving teddy bears.

One for the Road

Each drink needed a justification. If he couldn't think up a good reason, then Tom knew he was done for the night.
He was working on something for his next glass when the teenager from across the street came banging at the door. Her younger sister had nearly cut her finger off. Her dad was out of town.
Tom knew their mother couldn't be any help. She was in a wheelchair.
It looked like he'd have to drive that kid to the emergency room.
Well, there was a good reason. One for the road.

39 x 3

Not all of the entries have pictures

But they at least have a name


Most have an age

And many have the way they died


The only woman I can find on the page

Has enviable dark eyes, beautiful curls

She was hit in the back of the head with a bat

I count up how many rows and how many columns

Then Multiply


There are 117 total if the site is up to date


Maybe that's not too many

Maybe we'll look back and say, "Less than 150. And then it was okay."

Who is Your God?

Your God is an art god

Mine is a work god

Or perhaps they are both gods

In service of some larger God

Too big for me to conceive

The head of a multiplanal, parallelotastic universexistence

Sleep Poem for Quinn on His 6th Birthday

You're on a trampoline of cupcakes

Four tiny kangaroos are gently bouncing you

Above there is a flock pterodactyls
They are calling 'caw caw'

Blink them away, one at a time

"But how many are there?"

There are 100

You Could Use a Good Kiss

You Could Use a Good Kiss (Strangled Love)

I stayed up all night Watching an old movie with her

I was thinking it was all too easy

But I’m going to freeze before I reach the first marker

Because her temperature is dropping too rapidly                (Han yells “YAH!”)

It’s snowing in the Hoth of my Heart

But in her eyes it’s all cloud city

And I’ve got a bad feeling about the next part

This movie is going to end shitty

The computer in her head runs all night long

As I hunt for her love like a bounty

But if I’m going to get her out of this swamp

She’s going to have to believe me                     (Artoo yells as he gets spit out)

(Bridge)

I can’t just fly you out at the speed of light

Go somewhere where we can’t be detected

We can’t hide from each other in plain sight

Where our egos can stay quite well protected     (Carbonite beeps and whistles)

Id travel a million parsecs through the frigid cold

I’d even give you my right hand

But please don’t put me in the cargo hold (put put put put)

I just want to be your man    (put captain solo in the cargo hold)

It’s snowing in the Hoth of my Heart

But in her eyes it’s all cloud city

And I’ve got a bad feeling about the next part

This movie is going to end shitty

So as I shut down the movie Leaving our heroes stranded

I turn to her in attack position

My love is approaching! My love has just landed!         (Vader breathing)

and she’s in perfect hibernation                                   (Ugnaughts grunting)

Someday soon, lines will become a gimmick.

I am a nobody.  I have never done anything.  I have nothing to say.  I have no audience, no listeners.  I am an orphan.

I just saw "Exit through the Gift shop"  alternate title "Those grapes are sour."

At some point yesterday I found that my random lines were suddenly far more interesting than my intentional ones.  I reached a dip in my mojo.

I thought this would be a good place and time to explore this creative block.  To gather information that would perhaps help me in the future when I inevitably get back to this point again.


How long has it been since I produced an art work I really thought was good?

Jeez, over a year?  I remember this time last year I was starting to get into animation. Or Two years since I switched from guitar to playing organ.  Or three years since...Well...I get it.  I need to persevere.

So I force it.  I'm drawing now.  I'm re-doing a sketch Mother made a few days ago about the "Kingdom of ART"...

a dip of the pen to catalyze the solution of the dip in the mojo?



More on this to come...

Kids Did It

Every month
In National Geographic World Magazine

There were pre-teen ballerinas
And pint-size entrepreneurs

Kids who turned garbage into electricity
And prodigies who wrote symphonies with calculus

And I was just a fourth grader
With nothing to show for it

Some well-meaning editors
Probably thought the profiles were inspiring

I'd hate to think
They meant to rub it in

Let the Bible Belt come and Save My Soul

Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone

Ode to the Stale Wedge of Quesadilla on the Bathroom Towel Shelf

When I saw you
I knew what kind of day it was

How did you make it so far from the kitchen
Only to be abandoned before fulfilling your purpose?

I didn't look at you in disgust
Only sympathy

Note to selves...

First off...Let's post something every day...

Also, Write a story about a baseball manager based on "The Tempest".  Call it "Rained Out"...

Lastly, but most importantly, Happy Twelfth Wedding Anniversary to each other.  We have a lot to be happy about.