Posted in Books & Stories, Fiction & Poetry

Chick Flicks

 

I got lost again as I watched

And I remembered being in that spot

The passion and abandon

 

Oh, I’ve mentioned it before

But I felt it this time

Different than then

 

I melted

Something inside me did

I was part of that kiss

 

Then he leaned and rolled her onto the sand

She wrestled him back gently and he pushed again

And I didn’t care if they were married or not

 

In real life I mean

And how they managed to do that on the screen

Or how their spouses would feel

 

I remembered I believe

 

 

 

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Posted in Books & Stories, Thought Food

Always Thinking

 

So, I’ll make pie today. Strawberry. They’ve been defrosting, are defrosted and it didn’t matter whether or not I had it ready for Thanksgiving. Alone I can do whatever I want, eat whenever, prepare whatever, good movie day to watch whatever; still company would’ve been nice. No turkey for me, instead I had scallops – sea scallops. Last night. They were good.

 

You know…. Before I forget I’m turning the alarm back on. I’m up anyway, can turn it off when it sounds off and it won’t ring again until Monday. Monday. Yeah, back to work it’ll be. Work. It’s a shame social security is so screwed up I can’t retire yet and just relax. I’d certainly know how to busy myself. Relax… thanks a lot government. There we go, all set up.

 

Cappuccino’ll be next. Wanted to type a few words as a good morning.

 

So… drum roll please… … … … … … …

 

Good morning. Happy Holidays. There’s more to come.

 

 

 

Noooo…. Wait…. Strawberry Crisp…   Oh yeah!

 

Feet getting cold. Time for slippers and espresso. Where’s that recipe… ?

 

 

 

 

Posted in Books & Stories, Fiction & Poetry

Ghosts Of Christmas Past Have Nothing On The Horns In The Back Of My Head

 

 

We’re really not friends

We never were

But the boss asked

To bring a treat

Thanksgiving celebration tomorrow

We celebrate as one

Let’s eat

 

Not one for a grudge it popped not to mind

Not right away

I thought maybe a pie

I had fresh fruit washed and cleaned in the freezer

When the garden folk frequently stopped by

For the longest time I’d wanted it

To make you see

But never got round to it, at least not yet

Now good as any

 

The boss was out the day you committed the crime

Something felt not right about making a pie

Why

 

It popped to mind what’d been done

The disrespect and my heart sank

How so many of you had made fun

It was my birthday but to celebrate nigh

Well forgot and forgot me not on that same day

Our friend’s farewell lunch was preferred

Fine with me I knew her before any of you

Still the dish I made went cold

An Italian feast from scratch

 

You thumbed your nose up

A couple lied it was good, mmmmm

Calling me into the kitchen to get it before it was gone

But it wasn’t touched

You watched me emerge

What did you expect to see

That’s ok

Knowing what to do

I took it home and bagged it up

Fed me good several meals to come

But what to do with you and the celebration at hand

 

It occurred to me as I was relaxing

 

The couple of friends there would understand

That’s what friends do

They’ll get a kick out of it too

Bought in the store for $2.98

Tear open the bag and pour

Sufficient enough and no more

Part of dessert

Fair enough that it could be true

 

The Spirit of Participation and Thanksgiving celebration with you

 

 

Posted in Thought Food

Bullets

 

Hands are dry. Don’t feel like getting up again but wish I had hand lotion close by. Ha. What kind of convenience would that be to dot the place with tiny bottles of lotion and how long before I couldn’t stand it anymore and cleaned it all up so it’s not so cluttered. None of this changes the fact that my hands are dry, the cuticle on the ring finger of my right hand is swollen and hurts. It feels like there’s a piece of skin peeling up, rough and scratchy. Guess I’ll get up. Maybe I’ll move the bottle over here just for the night. I’ve got to pee anyway. Get up. Hey, good news. There’s an extra purse-sized bottle on the desk. I can give that a permanent home next to the bed. Ahhh… rubbing it in feels heavenly. Not the almond fragrance I prefer, a different ultra-healing formula it says. Redundant I think seeing the original formula has always been ultra-healing. That was the trademark. Another angle to sell the same stuff except no almond? Still, my hands feel good.

 

The heat comes on for the first time a little after midnight. There’s that smell, that new heat, new since last year filling the place. Supposed to get down to 21 degrees. Brrrrrr. It’s certainly going to feel good even set a 66. That’s just enough to keep it healthy. Step out the door for a minute and it’ll feel damn cozy. Won’t worry about that till the morning. The other good is it’ll be drying my towels nicely, those ones I’ve strategically placed here and there after my shower. Couldn’t stand the sound of the fan blowing in the bathroom besides making me feel cold. This’ll do. Sometime tomorrow morning I’ll get out to buy some milk. Hot cocoa will hit the spot. Maybe I’ll buy some cream, whipped cream to go with it.

 

It’s quiet again. The streetlights reflect the frostiness of the windows. I’m comfortable nonetheless. Maybe I should watch something. It was a good day for vampires when I was washing clothes earlier. Could see what’s available in my video libraries or maybe werewolves. No. Not yet. I got a notification that dragon eggs were hatching and I should place them in a habitat. Guess I’ll do that first.

 

 

Posted in Books & Stories

Stars

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Source: Stars

Posted in Books & Stories, tragedy

Auld Lang Syne Or Not

 

 

“He died Baby”, he’d said. “Benjamin found him when he came home from school in his recliner with dark stuff coming out of his mouth…” “Bile” Meghan interjected. “I’m a medical person Sean. That’s renal failure and that’s bile. Drank himself to death finally.” Not surprising but her heart went out to his son, the same age as her daughter at having been the one to find his dad dead. “Yeah. He’s in Oregon now with Mike’s sister. You remember Melinda. They don’t have kids so they’re taking care of him. Figured that would be best. All his stuff has been divided up. His brother took the car.” Sean paused, waiting. A single mom with little to no budget he knew she could’ve used a vehicle. Her son had hers while he was away at college, her daughter still lived with her and she’d gone back to school. It would’ve been helpful to say the least. Not that exercise is a bad thing but they rode bicycles to get somewhere or walked. Meghan sat in silence. She’d broken up with Mike a while ago. Not long enough she guessed, still; good of him to let her know.

 

“So…” Sean began again. “My heart’s bad from all the drinking me and the Hawk did. You know how Mike was. Pam and I are moving to Arizona. I’ve got to get a heart transplant. “So… so… Well do you want to sleep with me now Baby?” “Sleep with you?” Meghan couldn’t help but wonder is this real or another scheme to get her into bed. “Sean, your heart couldn’t take it. It’d give out. I mean, you’re too big for me to put your body in a dumpster, I don’t have the strength to drag and lift you, it would be too messy to cut you into pieces and put you into trash bags, there’d be blood all over the carpet, I’ll never get it out. Your wife would find out and there’s nothing wrong with her heart. We’ll both still be around and you’ll be dead. No, I don’t want to sleep with you. It just wouldn’t work. Did you get any of his stuff…”

Posted in Books & Stories, Improv

The Page Is Blank No More

 

Well the title takes care of that. Enjoying the peace once again. The neighbors in the adjacent and lower apartments have finally called it a night – nice of them to throw in the towel around 5 a.m. This isn’t campus but the real world or it’s supposed to be. Still I wonder if they think because it’s a college town they have the right. One of these days they’ll act up in the wrong place like those Olympians did. Enjoy your consequences. Hope I’m a safe distance away when I read about them. Thanks for the inspiration nonetheless. Would I have come up with something to write about anyway? I hope so.

 

So what else? A slight chill because my heat isn’t on yet. The weather has been cooperative and not quite at freezing. The sun shining through the glass doors warms everything nicely maintaining through most of the night. A healthier way to sleep I hear but I wouldn’t mind a fireplace. I wonder how long I’d keep just warm enough and turning on the heat at bay. I grew up with such ideas. My father was a misplaced pioneer. First he had a coal burning stove in the basement to heat the house, then moved on to a wood burning stove, or was it the other way around. Then the furnace was replaced. It was nothing to rise and feed the stove but a treat to have the heat set to run on its own. Living in northern Italy near the Alps the only insulation my room had was shutters on the windows. Beautiful, brisk… Blankets and dressing warm made sense along with hot cocoa, espresso, and hot toddies.

 

And so ends my Sunday good-morning. It’s still dark at 5:21. Maybe hot cider for a change. Just bought more cinnamon sticks…

 

 

 

Posted in Books & Stories, Fiction & Poetry

The Girl With No Shoelaces Fell Back Thrice

 

Well I woke with the sun out

In spite of it all

Then a memory came to call

“Came to call” don’t know if I want to rhyme that

Keep it on the back burner for now

 

Wonder how I’d write it without word limitations

I did do that once, maybe twice

It’s an old piece I modified for an event

A writing challenge in fact

Whittle it to 100 words

How about that

But if I didn’t have to what would I’ve said

This time around…

 

 

“We used to meet up, us three

 

Regulars who lent character, created atmosphere

 

Well we did and Reggie too

 

You cooked so your sister’d be spoiled

 

That was easy for you

 

Burger madness Sunday night

 

Salmon always for me

 

The wait staff always welcoming

 

‘Come right in’

 

We were people they liked to see

 

How about that

 

 

It caught in my throat as I walked

 

It wasn’t too far from my place

 

The room where I lived

 

Not much exercise to boast

 

Mind wanders nonetheless

 

How will it feel, no need to ask

 

I know

 

 

Still I go (went, well you know)

 

I sigh

 

It’s new place now with a new name

 

As my thoughts change and consider desserts

 

But my reflection as I passed restaurant glass gave a jab to distract from the stab

 

I crossed decadence off

 

Instead a small scoop, chocolate drizzle, iced coffee combined

 

Red Rooster called it Coffee Royale

 

Wonder if they still sell it

 

As cicadas numerous as biblical plagues

 

Drowned music piped feasting on trees

 

Yet through it all what remains

 

When all’s said and done, I won’t return

 

To the memories so thick

 

 

Miss you son”

 

 

No matter how I put it

It still crushes my heart but I don’t mind

They were good times

And recent events current with now, just now

They went out of business

Serves them right

There was only one

No restaurant could compare

It stayed open years and years

New office space in its place

Something different should be there

 

 

 

 

Posted in Books & Stories, Fiction & Poetry, Improv

Fall Back Again

 

 

 

I think I’m up at my usual time

So peaceful

Still dark

Never sleeping in

Until spring

I’ll have plenty of time

Why do I never get used to springing ahead

Overrated I think

Falling back I am more inclined

On a down mattress embrace

How deep can I sink

Let’s leave time alone

We did it once

Way back when

I was a kid then

Time doesn’t exist except man says it should

Let it ebb and flow

Watch the world turn

Don’t tell me it can’t thanks to technological advance

That says we’re smart enough to change it

Don’t say business

That flips-flops an hour at least twice

Don’t say wartime

That hasn’t been that way

Well, look at the time

My head I can lay until the alarm goes off

Or

Another cappuccino

Give the world a minute to wake

I have plenty of time

You know

To take

 

Post Scriptum

Picked up my apple to take a drink

Should’ve napped a little more

I think