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  Dec 2015 Thomas
Caroline E
The light to guide our way to happiness isn't a lamp
It is in finding yourself that you will be able to find
Joy in this world
Thomas Dec 2015
Part One

One day while in high school (am now out of college) I, Mattias,
went over to my best friend Joey's house. When I got there, as
usual, he was working; he's a nut job, or better known as a handy
man during the summer, but keeps up the big old house where Joey's
family, (Mom, Dad, five daughters and one son, Joey, the youngest) eat, sleep, and amortize the dwelling mercilessly where it's in
constant need of maintenance. e.g.: 5 girls, all girly girls and
their mother = 6 females, copious use of the room where one
rests (rest room), an enormous amount of toilet paper with all
that other female stuff that is jettisoned down the commode.
This impaction desperately attempts to navigate an old, cast iron,
privately owned (not city) sewer line and sewage system.

So one can see,
and smell, huge problems, almost daily. Btw: they have five
bathrooms. One can only connect the dots to each one of
these strategic stink-bomb sites and see a pungent, pontifical,  stanky  mess on their hands. Half the time a
bathroom is cordoned off with yellow tape, like, where's
the detective? A crime has been committed in this bathroom
by a bunch of
Strangely enough, the olfaction in this old castle didn't seem to
bother these girls. As long as it was their crap, all mixed together,
they all are of the same bloodline, who cares? It was almost as
if they liked the smell, since it was theirs. It was creepy, but
these girls were so good looking it didn't matter to me. Joey
would laugh as he could see how I was enamored with them all.
Yeah, I didn't mind hanging at Joey's house. His sisters:
their beauty; was through
the roof. They were cool
inside too!

So Joey is pretty indispensable in their household. He has tons
of other jobs, paid ones, to perform, but maintaining the five
bathrooms for these girls and the two men of the household was
a full time non-profit summer job, except for expenses; how quaint?

Part Two

This one particular day I stop over,
                                                       like I do almost daily; cut
through the open garage to their entry.
                                                       Joey knew I was coming
so both glass and fire door were unlocked.
                                                       ­ I walk in, shut the latch
to the glass door and saunter straight
                                                        ­into the Kitchen and
see Joey fishing through his junk drawer
                                                        se­arching for a bolt. He
said he was working on the plumbing in
                                                        one of the bathrooms.

The next thing I know, one of the neighbors in the culdesac of
which they live, Mrs. Turigliato, knocks on the door and tries to
open it but the latch is locked. The old fire door was open, so I
could see her. I waved and walked over to open the glass door.
Says Mrs. T, “Oh hi Mattias.” I reply “Hello Mam.”

She locomotes by me with coffee
in one hand, cream and sugar dripping
on her robe and coffee droplets free-falling
onto the VA tile floor with little splatters.

A tiny planet is being hit
by mini nuclear bombs, yikes!

She approaches Joey; he's scrambling and rummaging
through their seriously versatile junk drawer for the
right size bolt to perform surgery in one of the rooms
with a bath (bathroom). She cackles,
“Hi Joey, whatcha looking for?”

Part Three

Stop here a sec!**

If Joey would have said “I'm looking for a bolt” this story
would be over. In fact, there would be no story except a big house
with a sick septic tank on private property not run by the city.
Instead, he says “I'm looking for a *****?” While we both
(Joey & I ) might have quietly chuckled, Mrs. T's response
was a bit more than I could handle at this delicate age. Says Mrs.
Turigliato, “Go see Trudy, she will give you a *****.” Trudy was
our age, Mrs. T's daughter, and she was hot, but this was too much,
my abs were killing me. It doesn't end there:

Our mouths are tongued tied shut; taut. Unbelievably, Mrs. T
presses on;

“I'm serious Joey. Go, right now, and get a ***** from Trudy.”

At this point we were holding it in, suffocating, choking, yearning
for oxygen. Eggs and bacon started to make their way up my throat. I couldn't take this. We both quietly gather some air.
Not a ******* word from Joey or I,
Mrs. T is on an oblivious roll:

“Don't you want to get a ***** from Trudy, Joey?”

I can only imagine poor Joey's mind, thinking “Yes Mrs. T, but not the type ***** you're thinking about.”

We stay quiet, not a word..... then the miracle. Joey says “I found the right bolt.”
Hearing the word bolt and not ***** evoked an inquisitive, clueless, look from Mrs. T, her painted and pointed brows scrunching up and taking on new formations, but out came no words. She turned around and waved good bye, never saying why she came over or what she needed. Joey's Mom wasn't home but Mrs. T didn't even ask or say what she wanted. Strange ****.


Being a few years later, Joey and I still laugh our **** off when one of us tells this story. Even at parties, dudes and girls go nuts. Maybe some day it will be one of those “you would have had to be there” stories to maintain its staying power, but so far both Joey and I have gotten dates from girls at parties after we tell this story. I guess they like something about it. That's cool with me. Mattias is my name, and my best friend is Joey.
Fictional narrative prose based on a true story.  I know it's a bit long but I hope you hang in there to read it all and enjoy it as well.  Thomas
Thomas Dec 2015

The day he lost her to a fallen world
He promised to be satisfied with life
His love came from above abundantly
Commissioned to give back put others first

One day the Sturm und Drang hit city streets
He viewed upon his high apartment floor
Then after business hours his neighbors parked
He witnessed many soaked from pouring rain

Instinctively he grabbed umbrella case
He pulled it from the scabbard to withdraw
His saber in right hand, ran down the stairs
Now opened sheltered fabric for the folks

The people parked now waited one by one
Because the gent had hurried them inside
He got the last one in so safe and dry
The people clapped, bade “thanks, umbrella man”


Weeks later:

He heard the honking horn across the street
A straggler struggles out of vehicle
Looks like a neighbor, hadn't seen before
He gets her out of pouring rain, she smiles

This man who was as masculine as can be
Had felt his legs go weak; her pretty face
She saw his handsome face, aglow; proclaimed -
“Am pleased to meet our famed Umbrella Man”


Sturm und Drang:  noun -  turmoil, storm and stress, violent disturbance and disorder
This is in Blank Verse.  Iambic Pentameter without rhyme.  If you can read the poem to the beat of Iamb it's a much better read:   da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM ---------each syllable  unstressed/STRESSED.     I hope you enjoy the journey of The Umbrella Man and his ultimate blessing, or prize, depending on how one looks at it.     Thomas
Thomas Dec 2015
I ran my normal jog today
Upon a crossing breeze
This peace of Wind stopped on a dime
I leaned against the trees

The Wind then asked "Can I be seen?"
Said "No, but KNOW you're there"
The Wind replied "Are you so sure?"
"Through Faith and not despair"

The poem is written in Common Meter;  mixed meter, where lines 1 & 3 are in Iambic Tetrameter and lines 2 & 4 are in Iambic Trimeter.   If one can read this poem to the beat of Iambic Prosody:
e.g. S1, L1

i RAN my NOR-man JOG  to-DAY

You might feel the wind, even think you see it.  Learning who the Wind was at one point changed my life for the better.

I hope you enjoy.    Thomas

Note:  Any critique is welcome
Thomas Dec 2015

The battle at Ludd for all intents and purposes was a defeat.   Granted, the enemy was wiped out, but Sir Thomas and his men got to Ludd to late;  the loss of life of the townsfolk was inexcusable.   Sir Thomas did save a young nun named Dagung.   He left her in Ludd but she followed he and his men in route back to Gaza Castle.   Sir Thomas was a warrior and a monk.    With much to ponder, his mind went elsewhere:


Writings from the archives of Sir
Thomas de Charney

About A.D. 1290

We returned to Castle Gaza
Well into the mid-night
Much of the garrison we left behind we're still awake;
My loyal knights, sergeants, men at arms
We're overladen with people;
Towns empty, townspeople secure within our towering palisade
Even their livestock; hoards were left and hidden
Closer towns were ordered within the ramparts of city walls
Our strength was the long escarpment which faced the sea
If the infidels want to attack from that venue;  come...come
They know better, and will try to find a crease in our fortress
Days....weeks.....or months, we'll be ready

Ludd was a misfortune, a ****** beyond our umbrella;
Never again will this happen under my watch
I extended the perimeter of our municipality
Will introduce this measure at the next Grand Council
There was much to do, decisions to be made to protect the people
The treaty was broken, so it seems, after the debacle in Ludd
I dispatched an emissary to Acre to advise Our Grand Master
Until we get our orders, we will defend our defilade

My mind was in utter denial upon returning from Ludd
Caged by this young lady, a nun to boot, named Dagung; on horse
Chasing after our brigade relentlessly, hoofs digging the earth
Then “Please my lord, may I accompany you to Castle Gaza?”
After that slight curve of my lips, tried as I could; I failed to say no
Why?  I don't know what beauty is, but I can't take my eyes off her
Dagung would not leave my mind, but now what do I do ?
Good God,  my ***** and *****; sensitive to the touch
My problem is my lack of proclivities.....of..of....a, the female
This, I was not taught.  Is this not a concept to be learned ?

She, once a ******, ravaged by truculent *******
Me - warrior, monk, Templar Knight and Master at Gaza;
A ******; only of recent time understanding how a woman gets pregnant
From my perspective and upbringing
A female of this apotheosis may as well come from another existence
Or times past, or, of futures unknown
Perhaps a separate species

Before I could allow her into the Knights Templar castle
Dagung was safe within the city walls
My squire Geoffroi hired a few maidens
To prep her and look after her needs

By now she is in one of our guest rooms
Waiting on me

(to be continued)

Thomas Dec 2015
The last time that I dropped a tear
So long a time ago
A tear of sadness shows its feel
She's gone that's all I know

Ten years expire gave up on love
Content in who I am
I changed the focus of my life;
The blood of Christ the lamb

Am on to concert at our church;
Believers of the Cross
My heart is pierced by limbate eyes
Tongue tied and at a loss

Go out to eat with friends that night
Large table, chairs were full
Except for one right next to her;
Excite me for the cull

I looked into blue bordered dreamy eyes
A tear of joy; no longer in disguise
The poem is written in Common Meter, except for last couplet, which is rhymed Iambic Pentameter.  Common Meter is mixed meter, lines 1 & 3 are in Iambic Tetrameter and lines 2 & 4 are Iambic Trimeter.   Rhyme pattern is abcb.    

The poem is a true story of the loss of first love and the meeting of 2nd love, the only girls I have ever loved.

I hope you enjoy this entry and read this in iamb;  makes such a difference.    Thomas
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