Sipping Spring

Low cumulonimbus pillows
Tucked under blue sheets
Form fluffy white shapes
To the trained, shielded eye

Squinting and causing
Wrinkles to crease
Crows feet directing
The sun's balmy rays

Onto freckled cheeks
Into rouging ears
Warming from soul
To skin that feels

The desultory breeze
Inhaling and absorbing
Every current event
Drifting here to there

Plotting a trail of
Temporary stones
Stepping across
An undisturbed pond

Where the willows
Catch the rill of scents,
Comb the tangle through,
And tremble as if to sneeze

From the memory
That tickles the nose
And tugs the corners of
Two lips red as

Tulips curling open
To bumble bee kisses
While grasshoppers leap
Over rocks and twigs

And ants march to the drum
Of the heart of earth
In spongy dirt
Where worms fill orders

To deliver flowers
Their fertile diet,
Tiny roots winding down
The freeway of life

Pulsing under foot
Pressing softly in
To tender green blades
That bow to the breeze
Sweeping through thin clouds
Spread over endless canvas
Airbrushed blue
Arrayed in sunlit beams.

April's Short Story

The Advocate (just under 1700 words) is kind of cheating...I wrote a rough draft months, maybe years ago. The writing needed polishing, but the idea was already born. It is also "cheating" if you think of what happens in strictly "real world" applications. The Advocate is an analogy. Parts of the "history"--location, specific crime, time of era--are intentionally left unmentioned. This was to provide flexibility in interpretation. If you read this as fiction, then you'll be less critical, I hope, in possible applications. Most analogies aren't perfect in their applications, remember this. Then maybe you'll like this. Cheers!

Relay

Listen,
You will hear the air
That settles in your ear.

Swallow,
Can you taste my thoughts?
So carefully prepared.

Here,
Can you feel my love?
Heartbeat in hand.

Look,
Can you see my faith?
In deed and word.

Breathe,
You will smell the future
Almost reminding you of...

Husband Merenade

Twenty-six years have passed
When we couldn't share stories.
Soon as two authors write one life
Let's make it an adventure:
Front page sensations every morning.

Be patient while we wait
And after you know me, too.
I'm not perfect, but my love
will supply everything required
To make life's marinade sweet.

I want to marinate you.

Don't ask, "Will you marry me?"
No,
I won't "one time event" you.
I do,
I will always marrynate you,
And I'm already mixing
The sweet with the sour,
Waiting to soak and soften.

Sit on my right and I'll scratch your back;
On my left and I'll finger a love serenade,
My voice a soft wind in the
Sunshine chords of this ukulele.

Or walk next to me, either side,
Holding the hand that is yours
To have, for every want and need.

Hug me.
No, hold me in your arms.
Better yet, fold me in your heart.

Stand behind me when you wait
For my makeup to be finished;
You'll be ready, already,
But wait for me with me,
With your arms around me.

When I stand behind you
My head will rest on you,
On a soft blade of shoulder.
My arms closed around you,
I will never be able to let go.

I will love you--
If you only knew how much--
So don't worry or wonder or wander,
Because our paths will meet.
Or maybe they have...

Our hearts will meet.
And the moment will be
Sensational.

Curious Title. Second Glance

First line, second chance:
First impression already surmising,
Opinion forming,
Interest...waning? piqued?
Judgement realizing,
Persuasion reorganizing.
A clever, winning line.
Your mind accepts,
Wandering beyond the words,
Releasing hold of title and letters,
Ink merging into memory
Smearing, stamping, circulating
Images flashing, resurfacing;
Silent movie, admission for one.
And then it's over
Before you're done.

Over, but never ending
Because you read each word
Transfusing into your veins.
Only the words know where you bleed;
They rush to the pain...
But do not always heal.
Words stampede at full speed
Then tiptoe like bedtime kisses,
Expand the imagination's lung
Then choke the rising passion;
Steal speech, tie the tongue,
Numb its tip, prick the nose,
Fill the eyes, dissolve.

Your eyes absorb the title.
Your heart transmits the letters.
Your veins bide the pressure.
Your blood craves another dose.
Your disease can be remitted;
Your nerves wait for the word.

Moon Shine

I see the man in the moon, but he don’t see me
He's got bright light in his eyes to the nth degree,
So it ain't his fault. His backside's always colder
And he always peers behind his shoulder
Cuz that mister sun is always comin'
Sure as the noise 'fore the train comes hummin';
‘Xcept, the sun’s quieter than a baby’s blink
And seems even nicer, so why be scared, ya’d think.
But the man’s always lookin kinda pale
Like he's seen a ghost in awful detail.
He even pulls his covers to his chin
Some nights, cuz he starts getting mighty thin
Till he’s clean gone like a scaredy cat
Who gets spooked away with jus' a tip of yer hat.
Then I watch him peek over again
Lettin down them starry sheets till when
One day he waits to meet that sun
And I’m glad when, that son of a gun,
Fin’lly decides he’ll face that sun to ‘is face
And holds his ground and don’t move from ‘is place.
The sun yields behind the moon at last
And for a second the man’s face is cast
In blinding blackness and I can’t see
Him but I feel that he can fin’lly see me.
But the sun is a strong guy and I understand
How if you wanna be seen you gotta stand
In his rays. And stuck livin in that sky
That man in the moon can only sigh.
I bet he wishes he could do something new
But, like I says, he’s kinda a wimp, that moon,
So he just does as he’s told, plum to prune.
What the sun says today, the moon will say tonight
And it doesn’t seem to phase him. It don’t seem right,
But I understand; when Pa tells me “Listen here, son”
Boy I listen quick. And I do till the doin’s done.
So tonight the moon sneaks by my window frame
(I’ve snuck down the hall that way just the same)
And I watch his eyes peek back behind him
To search the horizon till the stars get dim.
I say, “just relax, let’s close our eyes and sleep.”
And we yawn, him and me, as big as space is deep.
I look at him; he’s like a glowing marquee.
I see the man in the moon, but he don’t see me.

Pancake Journey

Today I wanted pancakes. I wanted wheat ones. I searched and searched but I didn't find any wheat pancake mix

(Krusteaz has this amazing honey wheat mix. mmm)

Who can blame me when the pantry looks like this?
(But I did find some delicious Cheez-Its to snack on!)

I was kind of disappointed; I really wanted that wheat and honey kind. So I sat down to think. Then I remembered the Snickers bar that I'd bought. I wanted that, too. But I'd already eaten like a dozen little sweeTTarts earlier, and thought, 'oy, what chubby thoughts" but then, thought I, what if I mix Snickers and Pancakes!?


I thought and thought....and my tummy whined and whined...and then I turned the Snickers bar over.


Bar Hunger. Get that hunger outta my face. So, I set myself to work. But wait, is that a banana I see?

Suddenly I remembered my first job, at Granny's Drive Inn, a great shake and burger place. One of my favorite shakes to make was banana snickers (yes, really) and I decided that had to go into the pancakes, too.


I had the pan preheating, the spatula standing by, the whisk anxiously waiting, the mix and the bowl.

(....wait, does that Snickers already have a bite out of it?)


(I couldn't wait....)

I measured out two cups of mix and the called-for water. I made the batter thick, thinking, "I don't want thin cakes with lumpy humps--because when I flip the pancakes that will prevent both sides from cooking" and it's a good thing I thought it, because I would have been right.

But...I may have made it a bit too thick. Just a smidgen, though. Thems were some fatty panny cakes. I mean...

I added Snickers pieces


I added banana chunks


I even added chocolate chips because I just didn't think the Snickers would go far enough.
They were just so darn good looking, those chocolate morsels. And good tasting, too!

So, in they went. In they ALL went.

I added bananas to just half, the ones on the top there; the bottom two had just Snickers and chocolate chips. (I wanted to taste the difference it made without bananas. It wasn't extreme, but I could definitely tell. I think I liked it better with the bananas.)

So, the cakes took to the heated pan perfectly and it was soon time to flip. Just try to do it a little better than I did...


And seriously, they were thick. I worried that the inside wouldn't cook.
This lid helped. Made a mini oven for my mega cakes.


Which awesome mega cakes cooked all the way through.

And to top these babies, I didn't want syrup. No, I went for the fluffier sugar: whipped cream. I even whipped it from scratch myself (preburning calories...)

It helps to have a sweet mixing bowl with a donut lid like this, so the whipped splatters are fewer. Beat the cream on high speed until it gets a bit thicker, add a couple tablespoons of powdered sugar if you want, keep beating on high until....

It forms soft peaks.

Then, be civilized, get a plate.


You know the rest!


They were good. But next time I'd make less mix or get more Snickers. Maybe I'd even skip the whipped cream, cuz those suckers sure used up the sugar %DV on their own. Or, try the shake. Banana Snickers and vanilla ice cream. This is a great world.

cavern

In a corner of the Arctic
A mound of snow in bending trail
Accumulated naturally.
Packed tight by time's patient hands
It will never melt,
Sheltered by frozen air.

I found it, nearly solid ice,
Began carving, caring
For just the outside;
The visceral center
Would remain intact,
Frozen in ignorance.

But an external blast
Rocked the frosted ridge
Cracking the front base.
A rift exposed the interior.
I felt it and began carving,
Uncaring, with frozen tears

Melting faster than tools
To the hardened crux
Until the mound,
Hollow and echoing,
Became a remnant crust
Arching over frozen ground.

Depending the weather,
I might seek passage into
The frostbitten basin
Turned upside down.
An unguarded entry gapes,
Summons my frozen reluctance.

It is duty to preserve
The bond created to protect
Secrets, errors, confidence;
A solid core dissolved by tears
Can rare reform the trust.
Perhaps time will thaw a frozen faith.

(feedback much appreciated)

Yes!

March has itself a brand new ACTUALLY short, short story! (4204 words) This one's for the romantics. I was feeling romantic I guess. Cheers~

Randomblings: on love

Well, the time has come to clarify. I recently posted some words attempting to reflect some of-the-moment feelings about men. It definitely came across as man-hating and woman-worshipping, some wordy stuff that I don’t even believe in myself. At the time I had been hurt, so I lashed out. I think we’re all entitled. And you are also entitled to think and say and comment whatever you want.

Here’s something else: I love men. I absolutely love men. The idea of men, manly things, muscles, voices, smells, mannerisms, etc. I love my grandpa, I love my dad, I love my guy friends, I even appreciate ex-boyfriends. I truly believe woman is not complete without the man as the man is incomplete without the woman.

But let me just say here that both are genuinely priceless individually. And I believe that always, no matter my mood.

Then we all know that each gender has its quirks. Then each person has a personality and character. All these things are, in my opinion, pieces of the mosaic that make up this tectonic world. The world is beautiful and active and progressive because of individuals and their tendencies and their choices. We all need each other, we each have our needs, we express our feelings, we long to share those feelings with others sometimes.

There’s plenty I could say about women. The day after I wrote that Randomblings about men not deserving women, I made a whole list of why women are trouble and how they need men just as much, if not more, as men need women.

I won’t give examples, because those too will come off as generalized and not applicable to everyone underneath a blanket statement.

Here’s what I think. Humans have desires to trust and to love. Those develop through relationships, which develop through experiences, which traverse countless paths of connecting lives.

A lot of learning can happen with every experience. Sometimes we learn the biggest lessons from our hardest choices, our deepest pits, our indescribable feelings, our thickest fears. Sometimes it’s from the tiniest glance or the lightest touch or the faintest sound that we feel or learn the most.

It’s personal. Until it’s personal, it’s someone else’s. We want personal. We want to learn, we long to experience, we desire, we crave, we plunge into experience.

Sometimes we desire that personal part of ourselves to include another. Like the gears of a clock, any move we make, they move too. And, on for a while, one experience moves two people, two people move one life. The tick and tock of two hearts, defying time and reason: love is an ultimate experience.

Love is a timeless experience.

That is why, when it’s gone, sometimes it feels like you’ve never moved, even if you’ve crossed the whole world a thousand times, even if you’ve left it entirely and come back.

That is why, when you’re in it, you can’t wait.

That is why, when you’re living in it, you can experience, grow old, and die and it still holds you as though you were just born.

The time it takes to learn what love is, is the time experience travels from the head to the heart. No one can tell you what you’re feeling, you will learn that as time goes on. Like me, you’ll make plenty of mistakes and maybe regret a few choices. But that’s the way I needed to learn, and I am glad it took some time to learn the right way for me to learn love. And I suspect I’ll have yet more to learn. All the time.

There is no rewinding love, there is no return to love. At every moment, love is present or absent. The more often it is present, the more one can build on love, making relationships, understanding, forgiving, loving anew.

I say anew, because, well…For example, I loved a boy and I really liked the way I loved him. But that ended, or at least, it was suspended for quite some time. I realize, now that the love for him is gone, absent, that if I were to love him again, it would have to be a new love. That’s what I mean when I say there is no return to love. (Not that if you feel without love that it's beyond relocating, no, not ever.) Love fits in hearts, not in time. People fit into both…

Am I wrong? Maybe I’m wrong again. I do not mean to say that love is lost at every new moment. No, love builds, love wanes, love is very active. It’s just that it is not bound by time in any way. It is as gravity, a law immovable, but with a flexible understanding. Airplanes thrust into the air and gravity is not changed. There are ways into love, out of love, around love…but love will always be.

That is how it is timeless, that is how I believe it waits. It waits for us to gain experience and to learn what it feels like within us. Then it can propel us in any direction, out of any depth, through any fear, into another’s arms.

In case anyone reads this, know that I believe in love. I believe it takes work and that that labor refines the worker. The final product of a life well experienced with love is that heart of gold we all seek. In ourselves and in any other.

Life is about timing. Love is the experience of a lifetime.