Month: February 2024

For Dverse Poets and a “Poets Leaping” prompt which you can find here.

I wrote this back in January just after the new year and with the prompt being (well one of three possible ways to go) to write a poem using the word or concept of leaping I thought of this and the “leaping” into a new year.

So it was that addition plus a few other revisions with fresh eyes.

New Year People

They make deals

in flashlit bangs

with kisses

hugs

new year people

Make me thin

wish

me

comfortable in my own skin

finally

like yesterday

I’m sure I knew

when I was small

.

Make me rich like tomorrow

buy a boat

float

aways pretty

prettier than me into sparkling seas

the one I can never see

even in reflection

.

Make me strong

enough

stronger than I was

when only me dared call my

strong’s bluff

but in silence

who would know

it’s just me

a new year

like last past

a leap into

future

.

Make me different

I don’t care

who they would see then

when

drop a ball

turn a clock

make me someone I am not

drop a ball

turn a clock

it’s ok

who would see then

in

flashlit bangs

with kisses

hugs

just a me

but …

but …

tick …

tock …

drop a ball

turn a clock

maybe a me could be just a me

how could that even be

but …

but …

don’t get ahead

of

ourselves

or do

get ahead

of

ourselves

years come

fall

fail

drop a ball tick

turn a clock tock

again

A year or so ago an old WVU friend, Rob, posted on Facebook a little minute of him just pluckin’ away on guitar, a quick instrumental, and, on hearing it, I thought “Heck, I could, should, write a few words to this” So I did. Came out kinda nice. It was short, just that minute or so and he approved of my take. It was pretty cool.

Step Out (an Eldridge tune)

Then recently he posted, again, another instrumental, pluck pluck pluck, very bluesy just as with the first one. This one though was 3 minutes and change and I thought well, I could do this again, just with a little more time to work with.

And with it being the bluesy thing that it was I thought “Well, the devil just might be involved as the devil, he’s all about the blues”

So another take then on another Rob thing.

Standin’ At The Edge Of The World (the devil & me)  

Found myself standin’ at the edge of the world

The devil at my side asking what I had heard

I said about what are you just asking in jest?

He said no mortal son just checkin’ if you’d kept a-breast  

Of what it was that I had goin’ on

Singing off key songs of a world at unrest

.

I said I did but that I didn’t despair

That there was still some hope yet … be found in the air

He said but seeing devil’s work just why would you care

And why do you assume it’s me who leads to despair

I said cause you’re the devil and the devil may care

And seems you do with me at the edge of the world

.

Well, it looks like I’ve more work to be done

To convince you all to just cut and run

Away from hope’s promise and flowery songs

Don’t stack up with reality and what I’ve made wrong

But I said you still ask your questions now

About your own song and the stories you’ve wrung

.

I still find a world where people stand up

To those casting dark days and forcing in darker ways till you empty your half cup

To not give in to singing of a dire world’s long

Gone hoping pay no mind to your evil tongue

You are the devil after all your words may be strong

But there’s still some time …  for us … to all get along

.

And fight you real world devils and sing different tomes

And maybe make you realize you’ll be left all alone

And any who’ve abandoned promise of pretty songs

That say we’ll right whatever you’ve done so so wrong

.

The devil left my side then

His songs at a loss

And I stood alone now at the edge of the world  

Though I have plenty of other shit to concern myself with right now, I’m packing for a move, packing around cats without telling them what’s up just yet, I still can’t stop the need to editorialize in song. Seriously though, mums the word around Bella and Cricket right now alright? They’re very sensitive.

For everyone’s favorite Russian asset (well except for Comrade Don of course) …

To “Billy Don’t Be A Hero”

Tucker, Russia’s State Hero

The marching heroes jackboot along red square

Right GOP wish join them there

We looked and there was Tucker Carson-ovich  

Glass held high for a grandstand pass

.

And with his head on Putin’s shoulder

His man crush who the press gets wrong 

From where he sat he knew west was lying

Time now to set the record straight

.

Tucker Russia’s state hero, you are like brother they say

Tucker Russia’s real hero, please re-direct all the hate

And as they started to talk the Russian press could be heard to cry

Tucker you’re our real hero platform the lies

.

The Russian news was on Carson-ov’s side now

Tell them of how we’ll de-Nazifi

That damned Ukraine our truth’s in demand now

The propgandists applaud the ruse

We know you’ll tell the world the whole truth

We didn’t invade it’s NATO’s fault

And Tucker raised his hand in consent yes

I’ll join you Russian journalists

.

Tucker Russia’s state hero, you are like brother they say

Tucker Russia’s real hero, please re-direct all the hate

And as they started to talk the Russian press could be heard to cry

Tucker you’re our real hero platform the lies

.

They implored Tucker send a message

To the west’s GOP crazees

You need stop sending aid to Ukraine now

And helping out that Zee-len-skee

you’re always welcome here our friend now …  comrade

.

Tucker Russia’s state hero, you are like brother they say

Tucker Russia’s real hero, please re-direct all the hate

Tucker keep being traitor, we’ll crush that dee-mocracy

Tucker keep propping up white Christian supremacy

Tucker Russia’s state hero, you are like brother they say 

Tucker Russia’s state hero won’t you please stay

So an early, 4:00 am early, So Then Sunday post here.

For those that don’t know, a So Then Sunday post for me is like a Throwback Thursday, just not on a Thursday ’cause it’s, you know, a different day, not a Thursday, a Sunday.

A made up excuse to just revisit stuff.

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Stopped into Walgreens at the end of the week for a pick up of my don’t die on us just yet you bastard prescriptions and had the good fortune of the pretty pharmacy girl to wait on me at the counter and I was reminded of three things.

One: That pretty pharmacy girl.

Two: That with my impending move I would have to find a new Walgreens. Sigh.

And Three: This post from October, one of my better and most viewed ones. Thank you discerning readers. I applaud you like in parades.

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I Noticed

I got a bit melancholy tonight as I thought of younger days in my made excuse to hit the pharmacy on my way home for a third time in three days claiming old and having forgotten something the first two times around. The melancholy? The pretty Walgreens pharmacy girl. An unintentional intentional forgetting I guess.

I had been there twice in two days, for legitimate reason, the first to the refill of the relatively recent prescription I have of the smallest of pills that are now old man necessary in the largest of ways to keep the blood pressure on keel and then the second, the next day (after I had forgotten to get it all done in one) to a refill of the other pills that I am life tied to now after having discovered an adrenal deficiency that landed me in some hospital shuffling nine days sock footed sliding slippers shift slide dance with nurses and visiting doctors and pudding seven years ago.   

But the melancholy came from this third day where I told myself I had to, with ulterior motive, go back and grab some Pepto that I had forgotten to pick up on either day to try and hold off the eventual nights where my heartburn or something of the sort keeps sleep at bay and has become quite a bother. I also thought to maybe pick up anything else for appearances sake in case my obviousness of a single item was noticed, paper towels would work I said to myself, yeah, maybe even some TP and Tums and …

I stepped up to the pharmacy counter, sorta fake purchase in hand, hoping to finally have a sec after the first two trips netted only her coworker and his remarkable beard and perfect quaff of hair above it.

She (the day three reason) immediately recognized and checked the alphabet drawer boxes under “F” for a bag around all the others in an overstuffed pharmacy library (so many people, so many ailments) without me asking.

She gave me a “???” look.

“Ok, sorry, nothing to check for me there right now, I’m all medicined reminded old dude good” I said “I just thought I could pretend that I am checking on prescriptions so I could ring my things up here instead of that line up front that is about a dozen people long, including at least two older women maybe getting ready to pay with a check.”

“Sure, only for you” she said with a laugh and a fetching smile.

I suddenly found myself being young again and talking to a pretty girl and remembering when I would have done such or do such now, usually pretty awkwardly after a maybe initial burst of confidence.

I let her know that her new dark color wave of whispy long flowing shoulder falling hair was a great look and sans glasses too, working even better simply for the change of it, which it did, does.

“You noticed?”

Any guy who has missed this is an idiot.

“Well yeah, of course” I said “been meaning to point it out (been dying to) but I just haven’t had chance to be at the counter with you to tell you so”   

She smiled a million dollars.

Now, I have long ago given up such things, appealing to pretty girls like I were young again knowing that I have really nothing to offer now, I am broken, old, have suitcases of shit, history under my eyes, have very particular single habits, I have vices, I have broken myself almost intentionally after too many reasons to break, my breath is hard fought these days, I am out of shape, I am a single dude with two cats (formerly so many missed more) and whatever sad cliché that might imply, my care of such worries only put to the wayside for times to write of things just like this, but she smiled those million dollars and for just one moment I was not my aged age any longer and I was reminded that she would have been just who I would have awkwardly tried to grab the attention of back when. The pretty girl who would have caught my eye and maybe a me hers if I were so lucky.

And that was it, though I will have to refill my stay alives in another month or maybe even go through paper towels and TP waaaay faster than any single guy should.

I got a bit melancholy tonight.

“You noticed?”

“Of course I did”

So many idiot guys.

Came across a few articles earlier today at the station in some downtime between the end of the recording of one show and the waiting to start the recording of another of some fashion “choices” or possibly “dares” from the Grammy’s, a collection, for the most part, of photo’s of really unfortunate Red Carpet outfits, and I mean really unfortunate.

Look, I know this is the gig for award show events, any of them, for spectacle on the red carpet, for some outlandish outfits to really dash your fashion sensibilities and even if you don’t have any fashion sensibilities make you suddenly develop them specifically for the purpose of then having them dashed.

Sequins came up a lot in the pictures I couldn’t turn away from and surely had some rubbernecking company going on around their car wrecks besides mine, at least one outfit seemed to be missing the pants portion of it, while another couldn’t find the portion where it’s middle was supposed to be, one looked like the red carpeteer had fallen down into a field of flowers after being a bridesmaid but covered in glue, there was an apparent hand me down suit from a much larger older brother, a dress that seemed built with extra “backup” folds of material sticking out from the chest in case it was found necessary to possibly patch up any malfunctions or disasters in a sudden emergency like say the dress being run over by someone’s dressing room trailer in a moment of spite, there was a layered pink ball skirt meets bondage thing just minus some dude on all fours on a leash in an equally pink tutu with a ball in his mouth, there was what looked like a teal sweatsuit meets bell bottom flashbacks and super hero chic (it came with a cape), there was country goth, there was even a spaceman all in black look with a hoodie, suit jacket, sweats, goggles and helmet all atop some space age snow shoe looking sneakers (no surprise that that was Will.I.Am) but my top 3 were these …

Harry Styles as court jester in a sort of harlequin one piece that the King didn’t even know he wanted to entertain in his court until he thought to himself “Yeah, I didn’t want this”, Shania Twain after getting kicked back up the rabbit hole and out of Wonderland showed up in this wished Lewis Carroll meets a black and white Twister board meets Gandalf, then one that was described very kindly in one article with “All I can think about is the rows of people not being able to see the stage because of this dress. Yes, it’s beautiful, but not for a seated event.”

Actually no, that’s not it, it’s not what any of us would be thinking … at all.

It’s a tree. She’s a tree (though surely the camera’s are Mom & Dad click clicking away at the school’s arbor day play).

Now there were, still, some really nice tasteful outfits but they were overshadowed, of course, by these outlandish, though I did continue to not be able to turn away from as many pictures I could take in in this short period between recordings window of mine while judging them all in a 16 year old Mighty Mouse T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that I also wore yesterday so who am I to judge?

I know “envy doesn’t suit you Frankenberry” and point taken, though I think I might have to get a hold of that teal cape to go with the even older Underdog T-shirt that I plan on wearing tomorrow in the same pair of sweatpants.

Hey!! I air them out overnight!!

I am stressed

I am upended

I am uncomfortable, my underwear doesn’t even feel quite right, I keep hitching it to one side or the other “fuck you other side, this one is mine”. Well, these particular ones are also going on 20 years old as my laundry has become a bit stacked with packing, so to backups …

I know it is just moving, but it’s my thing now, boxes, shit, stuff, stuff as shit, shit as stuff, lift (mind your back), place eventually, promise some friends and nephews pizza and soda’s to help, the ones that can be bought with such, charity downsize, stop, put lift down, you got this, but this too soon as they are always too soon a move has been weighing on me.

I said to my exe’s son years ago when my Benny had found his other place, no, not in some rainbow’s bridge journey nonsense but just found his end game after a wondrous lifetime of stuffed mice and laps and balls with bells and bells with balls and neighbor’s front yards and flower patches “Do you know how many physical places Benny and I have lived in in his 16 years?”

“No”

“15, and that’s including the years here with you and your Mom”

It was nomadic and a nomadic I had become accustomed to but then the years in temp spots started to build, five years with my Sis and my Brother, eight years with the ex in two places, though the last couple might as well have been a moving away, just to an upstairs in what would become Frankenberry’s Attic, then three years escape to a wonderful little two bedroom spot with new friends who had dogs and cats to give me paws up on my come homes and two humans who even helped save my life from emergency discovered deficiency things once (always grateful Bren & Bob, always) then to six years in this hardwood tall ceilinged spot, but still never quite roots, this latest of cats and dogs and even birds though was a whole new experience, one I will dearly miss.

Morning open door: Hello new puppy!

Morning open door: Hello new puppy! You have a friend now?!

Morning open door: Hello new puppy! You have multiple friends now?!

Morning open door: Hello new kitten (Dex), whoa stop there needle teeth, that shit hurts!

Morning open door: Hello Georgia (shaky butt), Hello Pea, Hello Ms Chrissy (can I get a kiss?), Hello Polly, how’s the leg? Hello Louie you loud freakin’ bastard you, bring it down my friend, yes, that is the coolest of pineapple chew toys, no, I know you don’t really want to give it to me, just present it.

Morning open door: Hello Mabel, how’s about’s you and I dance? (if only I could dog)

Morning open door: Hello “Boo”, Ms Honey Bob Tail, Hello Florida, hello Handsome, hello Trucker, hello Millie, hello Loki, you’re quite a dick you know, hello Penny, hello Lola (slap ‘em away Lola, it’s just you and me girlfriend) hello Chubs and your little prairie dog stand ups at the crack of a cat food can …

Morning open door: Hello Dolly with a song in my heart, Hello Bruce, did you fuck with Pea yet today, Hello to the young brother and sister combo, Phat Tail and Squeaks whose front legs run straight at you his while his back move about all willy nilly as if on a swivel.

Morning open door: Hello Bella, you can’t fly but you can walk in a Groucho Marx kind of arm’s length way up to a shoulder and have me worried of nibble ears

Morning open door: Speaking of birds Hello Rico and Birdy Ray, yes, my shoulder is good for a landing and my beard could use a bit of grooming. Thank you

Morning open door: Hello Tank, you were given short shrift, literally with your tiny block kit, from whoever builds cats but you were a trooper

Morning open door: Hello Blue on my driveway up, day one, you big chested soft hearted scary monster you

Morning open door: Hello Cricket, how’s bout’s you and I bond and what of your friend Mimi? Yeah, you too old lady. Bella won’t be happy though.

Morning open door: Hello Blink, I’ve so missed you.

Morning open door: Hello Cujo, no you can’t bite me today.

Morning open door: Hello BW and Ghost and Curly and Lumpy, no, won’t make any attempts at pets (well not you Lumpy, bellies all around) not your thing, understood, but here is your water, drink your water.

Morning open door: Hello Diesel, yes you have the coolest name for a Pug ever! Hello Benny, Oh I see your nose poking out of that blanket you have wrapped yourself in like a small doggie burrito in your comfy bed, no, don’t get up, you’re good little man.

Morning open door: Hello Spud you handsome orange bugger, like my dearest Shoes, hello Bunny of the bent ear, hello Sunny of an equal bend hello … shit … just a lot of hello’s.

Morning open door: and close.

This is not like any other move of mine, it belies just the simple shit you can be Ok without in the paring down of things as moves should do but there are names, were names, memories and currents that are so difficult to part with.

That is hard this time around and as this this isn’t old days of new days either where you looked to new horizons, some promise, but I will find some anticipation still, no matter it being lesser than it was, age is age, time is time, and time has a habit of being just that, fucker, and windows become smaller, like by a lot, but, still, I will find something.

I have been part of a radio show for going on 12 years now and the guests of this show are all self help gurus and life coaches as that’s a thing that exists, charlatans all, a thing, and they would all probably tell me the same … just envision where you want to be, who you want to be, envision your best self and let it materialize In front of you like magic.

Well, I’m old now and that “magic” though well intentioned in pretty, sometimes even clinical scientific sounding ways is just that … “magic”

Just move forward Steve, that’s it, just move forward, stay above ground, plus you still have the “stuff” of memories of opened doors and … you also still have a lot of shit that ain’t hit a box yet

I am stressed

I am upended

I am uncomfortable, my underwear doesn’t even feel quite right …

Son of a bitch