Side Walk Cafe

If perchance you see a diminutive lady sitting at a Cafe
Do not go up to her and tell her you are a writer.
For she wishes to be left alone to enjoy the sun
For if you Pull out your Mont Blanc
Your day will be done
For in your eye it will reside
Never to write again

Published in: on June 11, 2010 at 10:08  Leave a Comment  

Canadian Olympics.

Canadian Olympics.

  • Feb. 13th, 2010 at 7:50 AM

Got so mad hearing about the Broadcast from BC last night. Wrote this.

Canadian law
Money Paid to a Killer
Revenge never served

Don’t ask and I won’t tell the story. Don’t want to tell the story. Let us just say Canadians never heard of enhanced interrogation techniques. Let it go at that

Published in: on May 27, 2010 at 08:18  Leave a Comment  

Thoughts

thoughts

  • Mar. 14th, 2010 at 11:44 AM

Secrets of the Universe/
she asked as we explore the other/
Now I sleep

Eye to the sight
Green is the color of the night
Trigger squeezed

Published in: on May 27, 2010 at 08:14  Leave a Comment  

2 April

2 April

  • Apr. 2nd, 2010 at 11:20 AM

Today a friend of my is getting married again, 4th time. This friend I have know since before she was a teenager.

Today marks her fourth attempt at happiness. Well, I wish her luck again.

Yesterday she called and wanted me to give her away. Regrettably not enough time to adjust my body to be awake 1700 hours. So I wished her Luck said I would be up with steaks and wine sometime next week.

This Lady was my first experience with a Bi-polar genius. I have since had much experience with this disease and several related ones. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, but you just have to love them that much harder and bee there when they need you. That is what bothers me cause I can’t be there with her today.

Point two see is the Mother of my Trophy Daughter. If I had ever had children this would be the daughter I would have picked. Alas she isn’t but she did send me a Father’s day card. Yeah for me.

For those of you that got band videos the Groom is in some of them.

For some damn reason I know very many creative people and I wanted to share my joy with you.

Published in: on May 27, 2010 at 08:13  Leave a Comment  

Night Mare

Night Mare

  • Apr. 17th, 2010 at 9:09 AM

Teams lost I never lead
NIghtmares of places I’ve never been
Pain felt I never had

Published in: on May 27, 2010 at 08:10  Leave a Comment  

First Date

First Date

  • Apr. 18th, 2010 at 10:12 PM

Do not ever go out on a first date with someone you have known 40 + years. You will end up talking about friends you knew now dead. She will try to relieve her youth with tales of being drunk and places and boyfriends she has lived with.
That is all.

Published in: on May 27, 2010 at 08:09  Leave a Comment  

Shellshock My Prespective

Shellshock My Prespective

  • Jan. 9th, 2010 at 8:59 AM

Sometime ago a friend of mine introduced me to an author of erotic literature. I read a few of her works and though good they did not grab. One day wondering through her archives I came across a story called “Shellshock”http://remittancegirl.com/?p=78. This story not only grabbed me but transported me through time and space to a place I had never been, but to a place I might have been. As time went on I couldn’t let the story go, and an idea started to form. The idea was not to rewrite the story but to tell the story from the ghost’s view point. I did and after much soul searching I sent it to my friend, I was scared that I might offend her. She being the wise women she is says “post it” So here it is as I sent it to her.

I came to conscious not knowing where I was. It was some place I had never been. The smells though I recognize from over forty years ago. The smell of rice paddies mixed with smell of pollution caused by two stroke engines. An Oily smell caused by their blue smoke.
I look around again and saw the style is a minimum forty of years old. There is a faux oak paneling a bed with a yellowed comforter and apparently clean sheets. The mandatory stalking tiger tapestry a clean but very old and bathroom shower commode sink no bidet. Another smell comes to my mind cheap but honest sex.
I sit up and wonder how I got here. Why am I here. I have never been here wherever here is. I look in the mirror the old decaying mirror and see nothing. I look at myself and see myself as I was 40 years ago. Khaki uniform highly shined low quarters ribbons short hair cut. What the hell is going on?
Nothing comes to mind. I walk to the door and try to leave I can’t I turn the knob and try to pull the door in but I can’t open it I try kicking it out but my foot doesn’t move it. I look at a window and try to open it yet again I fail. The sound of the old wheezing air conditioner is starting to grate the nerves. So I take off my shoes grab a towel spread it on the floor and assume the lotus position. I slip into the position like I was 20 again but that was a long time ago, I decide to wait, wondering what will develop. I would sit on one of the twin beds but the floor with my back against a wall is more comfortable with no one able to approach from the rear. Skills learned long ago come to the fore. So I wait.
I hear a rustling in the door a key has been placed in the lock. The door opens and the bellboy, attendant and a lady enter. She scans the room and hesitates slightly when looking in my direction. Can she see me? If so why how? Again I wait; she tips the boy after he carelessly throws her baggage on one of the twin beds.
I look at her curious, neither young nor old. Just a woman. Dark hair and trim with super natural red lips. Then I look at the eyes, they frightened me, as they are the eyes of a combat veteran. How I ask myself? How can she have those eyes? The stare that I have seen once to often in my life sometimes looking back at me when I forget to forget. I still watch and now I smell. She smells of Viet Nam. A smell that is different from any other county. Which means shower before anything else. It is the first thing a western does after an extended stay in that Country. Shower to remove the stench of the rice paddies. It never comes out in the first soaking and sometimes even after all this time I can still smell that rotten dying stink. She has just found out the radio does work, wonder if it ever did. Disgust on her face. She passes by me and once again stares in my direction. A puzzled look comes upon her face.
She moves to the little bathroom and starts to undress. I see that she is neat by where she puts her clothes folded on top of the commode. I stand watching her do this and I enjoy the scene. A long time since a lady undressed in front of me and her not knowing I am there makes it better. She completes her toilet and climbs in the shower. I leave the room knowing she won’t come out till there is nothing but cold water left. Her skin will have wrinkled by then but the foulness of Viet Nam will not come out of her skin.
She comes out of the bathroom towel wrapped around her and goes to one of the beds pulls the covers down and climbs in to sleep. She doesn’t sleep she starts crying and I wonder why? Is she sad happy or what. I walk over and sit and reach out to touch her. This is a very bold move on my part. I want to stop the hurt. So I touch her shoulder and she stirs just a little and looks in my direction and shakes her head.
She turns over and her hands are under her body, as if trying for some release. But it doesn’t work and she cries a little more. I touch her again she looks my way and finally falls asleep.
Can she really see me am I really in this place? She sleeps and I keep watch, no harm will come to this Lady while I stand guard. I return to my towel and wait.
She awakes and goes once more into the bathroom. She is getting ready to go out. She takes a quick shower and does all those incomprehensible things the female of the species is capable of when on the prowl. This time instead of being careful about the clothes she throws them about looking for the proper items to wear and they end up all over the room. She may not realize but she is definitely going out on the hunt. She looks around and leaves.
She has left the room a mess and I straighten it up. I can move her stuff. Clothes to the desk Towels hung up. I turn the light on to await her return. Turn down the bed and go back to my towel. I wonder if she would be surprised if the first thing I did when on my R&R was go see 2001:A Space Odyssey I think she would find the tale amusing. Everything is ready for return with the pray she has stalked and capture. Somehow I have even managed to get two cold beers into the room. Wonder if she will notice. If so she will be mad there is no Vodka . A vodka woman if ever there was one.
She arrives with the prey. Looks around the room and shakes her head a little. A small fleeting smile. The prey isn’t much but at least its British. However I think it was probably a winner in the Upper class twit of the year contest. Shut up you idiot she doesn’t want small talk. She just wants to fuck her brains out, no making love, just lust. The prey finally realizes this and relaxes and enjoys the assault. Yet she is in control and he doesn’t realize it. She looks to the other bed and acts as if she sees something there and looks back to me. I see nothing I wonder what the image was. I still sit on my towel. The prey is close to spending himself in her and she is riding him as if feel he were a mechanical toy. She is climbing the mountain and he is trying to stay with her. She enters the showers of the cloud and rains he follows she collapses and sleeps. The prey grunts and is too sacred to move he sleeps, I sit and watch.
She awakes and she rolls off him. Gets up pads to the bathroom and when she comes out sees the beer that was sitting there. He eyebrow raises and she looks in my direction. Again I wonder can she see me. I read the thought I was right she wanted Vodka. She drinks the beer and sits in a chair to watch the prey sleep.
She finishes the beer and goes to the other bed and crawls in. She sleeps. The prey awakes and I see him moving. The Lady still lies asleep or just dozing I can’t tell. The prey grabs the other beer and trudges to the bathroom. Shakes his head in astonishment. Drinks the warm beer and empties himself at the same time.
The lady stirs. Sees the prey in the bathroom. She moves towards the prey and attacks once again slower this time. She climbs aboard the prey.
She looks at me Whisper’s “its private” and moves her right hand to shush me out.
I smile and walk out of the room. My towel is still against the wall. I wait.
I think why; this is not my R&R, it is hers.
The Prey comes out dresses and leaves saying something about seeing her again. She answers with a polite noncommittal answer. Finishing her shower. She goes to the bed she slept in. She lays down again. She looks at me curls her finger and motions for me to join her. I do, I lay beside her, she snuggles into me and I relax and sleep.

Published in: on May 27, 2010 at 08:06  Leave a Comment  

22 April 1970 1st earth day

The day I died for the first time.  Climbed on a bird and flew to Nam.  Smelt the Rice paddies and saw the flares and heard the artillery for the first time.  What a way to die.  The little boy was dead and I still don’t know what  replaced it.  No Point Du Huc speeches about me and the 250 that were with me. Hated rice and Chop Suey for years and came to hate peaches even more.   Just remember this  “ I guess we all died a little in that damn war.” Josie Wales

Yes, we did and some of us never made it back.  I did and I didn’t, so that is why I am who I am today.  Take it or leave cause I have been left by to many and wish others hadn’t come in their place.

Darkness was my friend then and still is.  More questions than answers and more bodies than I care to see.

Best minds destroyed cause the weak willed ran and hid and became politicians and presidents.  Best minds destroyed by cheap heroin and strange diseases and cheap booze and cheaper ammunition.  Best minds destroyed by sights that no one should see.  Beside minds destroyed because their body was taken from them and not their mind.

Minds destroyed because Johnny got his gun and knew how to use it.

Bitter yes and mad still.  Some call it PTSD others battle fatigue.  Me, I think of it as death.

Published in: on May 27, 2010 at 08:04  Leave a Comment  

Morgana

Secrets of the Universe/
she asked as we explore the other/
Now I sleep

Published in: on March 7, 2010 at 12:34  Leave a Comment