Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Dec 2013 Scot Powers
st64
such a cool dude



1. on believing
There are those who scoff at the schoolboy, calling him frivolous and shallow. Yet it was the schoolboy who said "Faith is believing what you know ain't so."



2. on genius
Thousands of geniuses live and die undiscovered-- either by themselves or by others.



3. on bereavement
A man's house burns down. The smoking wreckage represents only a ruined home that was dear through years of use and pleasant associations. By and by, as the days and weeks go on, first he misses this, then that, then the other thing. And when he casts about for it he finds that it was in that house. Always it is an essential-- there was but one of its kind. It cannot be replaced. It was in that house. It is irrevocably lost.... It will be years before the tale of lost essentials is complete, and not till then can he truly know the magnitude of his disaster.



4. on mischief
I see that every man that went in had his pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coat--and I see it warn't no perfumery either, not by a long sight.
I smelt sickly eggs by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I know the signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four of them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for me, I couldn't stand it.



4. on conscience
I thought a minute, and says to myself, hold on -- s'pose you'd a done right and give Jim up; would you felt better than what you do now? No, says I, I'd feel bad-- I'd feel just the same way I do now.
Well, then, says I, what's the use you learning to do right, when it's troublesome to do right and ain't no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same?



5. on superstition
I've always reckoned that looking at the new moon over your left shoulder is one of the carelessest and foolishest things a body can do. Old Hank Bunker done it once, and bragged about it; and in less than two years he got drunk and fell off of the shot tower and spread himself out so that he was just a kind of layer, as you may say; and they slid him edgeways between two barn doors for a coffin, and buried him so, so they say, but I didn't see it. Pap told me. But anyway, it all come of looking at the moon that way, like a fool.



6. on escape
I reckon I got to light out for the Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt me and sivilize me and I can't stand it. I been there before.



7. on hypocrisy and religion
We all went to church, about three mile, everybody a-horseback. The men took their guns along, so did Buck, and kept them between their knees or stood them handy against the wall.
The Shepherdson's done the same. It was pretty ornery preaching -- all about brotherly love, and such-like tiresomeness; but everybody said it was a good sermon, and they all talked it over going home, and had such a powerful lot to say about faith, and good works, and free grace, and preforeordestination, and I don't know what all, that it did seem to me to be one of the roughest Sundays I had run across yet.



8. on simplicity
Jim said bees wouldn't sting idiots; but I didn't believe that, because I had tried them lots of times myself, and they wouldn't sting me.



9. on humanity
Let us consider that we are all partially insane. It will explain us to each other; it will unriddle many riddles; it will make clear and simple many things which are involved in haunting and harassing difficulties and obscurities now.



10. on army
That's what an army is -- a mob; they don't fight with courage that's born in them, but with courage that's borrowed from their mass, and from their officers.




                                                            ­                                       *by Mark Twain








S T - 16 dec 13
love the boldness of Twain.

not everybody's cuppa.. but hey, see me crying? nah :)






sub-entry: unicorn

a knock at the door
grey figure opens.. very, very tall

1.
slits of tall-eyes concierge perusing hooded-newcomer bearing gift
furtive-eyes in a head over-drilled with equations
the visitor waits and watches
intently catching the distant-tinkling of a child's laughter
peeps round the bend..
twinkling-eyed gramps giving gifts to grand-kids round the tall-tree

2.
silver-hair leads the way slowly up plush carpet-steps, all deep-red
not aware how regal-opulence glares at the hungry-livraison
of ornate wood-patterns etched into the sides of the box
a single hair-strand is the currency to secret-entry
the most unlikely-key stands in the doorway
upon the head of the child, it needs but one length
with tweezers, silver-head places in painstaking-tremors
there's a light-whirring deep inside and click, click, click..
the sides flay open like tiny-wings
and then, it's right there.. it's opening up its secrets
the old man, who waited all his life to see this.. almost has a glimpse
when something happens..

oh my, what is it ? ? ?     (gaping in disbelief)
it's........ the unicorn
oh! you may leave now, thank you
but a swift-stab leaves silver-head spluttering
holding onto his neck as his life-force spurts away, uncontrollable
                                        in violent-spasms
tall-eyes quick-senses an iota amiss within its radar-view
from the running-steps down the muted red-stairs, cy-dog barks
out the front-door, in pursuit of dodger-stealer who drops the flick-knife
into wide road, sudden-bus whacks him down
tall-eyes look down into the eyes of a dying man
(what have I done?  I needed only two minutes more to.....)
now, quick....get away, get away... !


3.
mythical twist as plot thickens
the box lies there, distant-sirens wail
eyes slit, instantly calculating
hot on heels of this reliable lean-machine
cops push the limit and close the corners
a volley of shots and he.. falls
box tumbling to the ground, rolling a bit.. then stops
red-lights flash remotely, like a dream caught in cold-syrup

with one shoulder now missing and half his head on the sidewalk
he hobbles with the gift to the bridge, his sensors pick up the bleat of the ferry
and he manages to...
...........................and throw it in the frozen-lake
its weight breaks the cracked-surface
                and sinks.. slowly.. down
                                  down
                     down
          down
down
                                               d o w n..

there, it rests in peace
till..


one year later, a young boy tests the safety of that frozen-water
stomping feet to keep warm and face clad in half-balaclava
a sight unlike any other meets his eyes.. and..
(when) he stoops to reach for it..
the neighbor has just started to mow
cutting grass is his favorite pastime
he manicures the lawn nice and low

the sound of the mower's droning chime
seems to be sweet music to his ears
cutting grass is his favorite pastime

his lawn kept tidy over many years
the grass not allowed to get too long
seems to be sweet music to his ears

he's oft hear singing a barber's song
as he trims his lawn with his old Rover
the grass not allowed to get too long

he takes pride in his patch of clover
the blades of grass never look mussed
as he trims the lawn with his old Rover

about his yard he's meticulous and fussed
the blades of grass never look mussed
the neighbor has just started to mow
he manicures the lawn nice and low
where does the gravel come from
how can the sea but move
for many thunderous miles
the shells and rocks so smooth
and lay them as one on the beach
for two hundred yards or more
amid the cleanest and softest of sand

there's some half the size of a pea
of yellow brown and white
the black ones mixed in with the grey
truly a colorful sight
some striped some orange some green
but the one which seems all too few
is the color that's always my favorite
when will I find one of blue

those who've wandered for years
on beaches all around the land
will know of the longing frustration
a blue one to have in the hand
they're in all the fish ponds and maybe
it's paint which gives them their hue
but surely dear old mother nature
could knock out a few colored blue

tomorrow I'll go out again
in the beautiful glow of the dawn
wander for miles on a search
to see if my blue one has been born
holding on grim to the faith
akin to a clover of four
I know that in the sand there
is a glorious blue one for my score
 Dec 2013 Scot Powers
st64
it is true
when we give our blood too much
we aid in disempowerment


1.
constant giving in love and providing can set unhealthy-precedent
and when it falters in its expected-rhythm
ugly-tantrums get thrown, bordering on disrespect


2.
demands kick in hard upon trod-floor of insidious-hooks
there's always a rider for the other party on tightrope-theatre
            some or other condition to feed the monster of excitement
            while health straddles some jarring regions
            in hostile-spitting strong enough to lance startling-injury
shoelaces dripped in hazard-oil over a generational-canyon
provides unwanted-fodder for establishing long-term *slippage




(no! you weren't raised this way.. where does this stem from?)
there has been no failure to show how humans act and speak
this is unacceptable)


oh............you want / you want / you want..... all.. the.. time
then kick up unholy-storms when there's a break in rhyme


get ye, lad.. go practise your ire on a field
                   go throw a stick on the prairie
                   go find your path, you're old enough
yer insolence plain *****!




(I could tell you .. you're rude.. go home,
but you already are!)


S T - 10 dec 13
sometimes, offspring understand little of scpacrfieces parents have to (sometimes, privately) make in order to keep the wheels turning.............
it needs hair on teeth and grit in mouth to swallow some stuff, but persevere against adversity.. not always flippin' easy.
to teach independence and responsibility to children is a constant and ongoing thing.. one can hardly let up..
yeah, I guess it's the old adage of repetition, repetition, repetition ...

(there's a poem I half-remember.... about parents letting go of their offspring... natural pattern..)




sub: stuck

between jagged-rocks and petulant-push
how breathes a soul
stuck in places where no space moves?

reach for the blue one.. then, a white one
later.. three small ones

wooden wheels of erstwhile-splendour
interest little to jelly already set
in gratifix

skull goes numb in efforts
can't keep placating, no

wrong to wring neck of bird
who feeds well the keeper
who keeps warm the feeder
who helps to lift the spirit
She
She’s a mystery,
A mosaic of broken pieces and complications,
Experiences he’ll not soon understand,
All sewn together by strands thin as spider’s web.

She's something fragile
Yet has walls so high.
He’s determined to knock them down,
One by one.

She hardly ever speaks,
All her thoughts are secrets that she keeps.
Slowly, gradually she’ll give away pieces of the puzzle
For him to put together.
Gently she does this, quite possibly terrified
That he’ll run away, in the end.

She doesn’t know that he wants to put the pieces into place,
That he’ll trace the scars, smooth the seams,
Until she doesn’t want him anymore.

And that is what he fears,
That one day, he’ll be too much for her,
And she’ll retreat into herself again.

Just like the way she turns on her heels
When their paths split.
She says “See you later,”
Never goodbye,
And always turns to look back at him
When she thinks he's not looking.

But one day, she might just leave without a sound
Walking pointedly in another direction,
Away from him
And never look back.
 Dec 2013 Scot Powers
st64
fear
 Dec 2013 Scot Powers
st64
marvel at the complex-pattern
painting such a span of swirls
light-panels less than shimmer
in the afternoon shadows on the wooden kitchen-table
biggest fear - your leaving


1.
beautiful summer-days lost in your eyes
oblivion dances like a wily-***** at hypnotising fire-licks
from our languid-bed, I'd lazy-feed you lox-on-crackers
and everything you liked
heaven never had it so good

........................till

woke up and *you weren't there

where'd you go to?
no letter, no call.. for days


2.
to overcome this fear
I brought in a  b-i-g-g-e-r  one
that used to drive me to serious-pitfalls in the past

off to the exotic pet-shop, my toes marched me
and I got one - very toxic thing on legs
without a natural terrarium

once home, I set it free
I set free.... my biggest fear
        to blot out your absence
        to overcome your presence
        to forget you

it crawled around and made a home
while I hardly breathed nor slept
and moved about on ginger-steps


3.
I kept feeling strands of your hair
          in my sleep
          on my cheek
          inside my cry
and woke to moonlight bathed in sweat

I did not wash your pillow, after weeks now
I bury my face in olfactory-memory lingering
and pine for you, but I see your missing set of keys and..

/ scratch .. scratch /

I hear a sudden scurrying
heartbeat jumps out cage
eyeballs to the parquet-floor

nothing.


4.
I'm getting used to this new pet
and she doesn't mind my breathing
                    oh, I swear she's a brain-scanner
                    when she looks at me that way
                    like she can read me.. through and through

I dare not pet, I dare not touch... ohhhh no!
       I leave her the daily-bowl of delicious, fresh worms
       to find it empty in the evening
I guess, thanks for freedom.. of sorts

one day, I left the window open
as I jotted down some poignant thoughts
at my antique-escritoire
    espied her legs upon the solar-sill
    thought she'd be running... a leaver, too
but no..    
                 she was sunning all her legs awhile


5.
the season's changing.. leaves are falling
crackle of wind in the air

now, I'm making me some coffee in my silver whistle-***
hot, solo beverage to calm my settling-mind
when.. ping-ping.. comes a text
lo and behold....
it is you...

you!


6.
delirium / delirium /
(I'm on cloud-nine... you're coming home tonight..
                                      you love me so much, you say..
                                      made a mistake..
                                       you've got something big to share..

I've taken time to prepare a special-meal.. candles and all your faves
but must pop out quick to get some lox...)



I'm back now, got the stuff now
key in lock
but the door.. jammed by a weight.. of sorts
can't seem to push the ****-door open...
shoving hard, I see........







fear compounded by a minus
simply multiplied
disaster





S T - 4 dec 13
plan(e) in the air.. pushing tin's a fine way to get there :)



sub: fly

days fly by
on wing of trust
in rusty-daze
 Dec 2013 Scot Powers
st64
mouse
 Dec 2013 Scot Powers
st64
sshhhhh......


the mouse I'm in
is so petrified of breathing

life is a cat waiting to pounce
on every move I make

many moves through perdition-land
and the frog croaks



croak-croak*



S T - 4 dec 13
Imagine if the nativity
Took place now instead of then
With technological advancement
It'd be on the news at ten
In fact it would make youtube
A film clip at the stable
Taken by a shepherd boy
Underneath a table
The three wisemen would go on Skype
The gifts would be en route
No need to travel all the way
With the traffic in Beirut
Phone banks would be all set up
To raise funds for the birth
The internet would be a buzz
With the greatest news on earth
No camels, inns or drummer boys
There'd be no one there at all
The Angel of The Lord would be
Black Friday shopping at the mall
In fact I do not think that it
Would be a deal that we would follow
Social media and the press
Would make it all seem hollow
I'm glad it happened when it did
As time has come to pass
With Jesus in a manger
And wisemen there en masse
I don't think it'd be Christmas
If Christ was born today
Without a cd or a movie deal
Or a sport that he would play
Christmas is...and always will
Be the story we were told
I'm glad it didn't happen now
If I may be quite so bold
Unto man a child was born
And he, the son of God....
Next page