Quoted in the Grove:
I actually washed my window once, and it fell through – it was being held together by the dirt.
~Edie Falco
Mystery has its own mysteries, and there are gods above gods. We have ours, they have theirs. That is what’s known as infinity
~Jean Cocteau
Hobbes: Do you think there’s a God?
Calvin: Well, SOMEBODY’S out to get me.
~Bill Watterson
EndQuote:
It’s a magical world, Hobbes, ol’ buddy . . . let’s go exploring!
~Bill Watterson
~~
Posted from the Grove:
Platform Favorites:
~The Smashing Pumpkins: Thirty-Three (4:08)
Am I you? The answer as question?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYSbztCCTlA
~Bruce Springsteen: Independence Day (4:51)
Another way to say, goodbye
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gnAJlJHXn_M
~Simon and Garfunkel: An American Tune (4:25)
Traditional July 4th song @WGP&R, this in Central Park
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCmgKSUXH18
~~
Prewritten for Thurs (07/06) @6pm PT/9 ET is: ambidextrous, preacher
~~
@Writers Platform:
Prewritten: nursery, corkscrew
~Piffin: “The Wayward Pixie”
In this cold new world
With its pantomimes
There’s a tavern that remains
From colonial times
On the banks of the bay
You can visit it still
If you’ve coin for the tab
And a belly to fill
They serve Shepherd’s Pie
They still clang their bell
There’s a scar in the bar
Where a scimitar fell
Yet the place is dark
With electric light
It’s been two-hundred years
Since the lamps burned bright
And the names have changed
As they do now and then
It’s become a sanctuary
For the tired old men
Who have worked their lives
And have nothing to show
But a sigh and cigarette smoke
To blow
Where the ghosts remain
Of the songs and cheers
Of the brave young times
Of the happy years
Do they sit in their shadows
And they sit in their shame
As they wait for their Sunday
And the girl with no name
Come ’round 10 PM
She arrives like dawn
As she pads on her feet
With a stretch and a yawn
Then she takes to singing
And she starts to dance
As she wakes up memories
And she wakes up pants
With a corkscrew twirl
Keeping perfect time
While her voice rings true
As a nursery rhyme
And they forget for a while
They forget for a while
They forget
For a while
~
~Greymane: Painful Memories
He saw her near the new nursery. She had been pretty once but the long years had been unkind to her. She was angry and cursing at something inside her pack as if it had wronged her in some way. He considered approaching her to see if there was anything he could do to help but an angry scowl sent him in the other direction.
He finished his business inside and found she was still lingering near his truck. She asked him for money. She was hungry. She told him she hadn’t eaten in days. He reached for his wallet while she kept talking and somewhere inside him was a glimmer of recognition. Something in the way she had said thank you rested deep in his memory.
“Lisa?” he ventured
She burst into tears, “My God, …Ben? Is it really you?” She could barely look up at him.
It had been over twenty-five years since they had last seen each other. They had dated back in high school. She was the sister of one of his closest friends. They had fun together back then and he had been sure that he was in love with her at the time but her family moved away and they had all lost touch soon afterward.
He took her to his favorite lunch spot and they talked more as they ate. She was ravenous but never stopped talking, almost frantic. She said they had moved around a lot and she had run with the wrong crowd in most places they lived. She fell in love with a bad boy and before she knew it had been in and out of jail several times. He had been cruel to her. He died one night in a drug deal gone bad. She had seen it all and had to run for her life. The years afterward had been hard, she had been lonely hiding and had been lost in her addictions. They had worn her down and twisted her reasoning.
He felt bad for her and told her he would help her in any way that he could. He took her to the shore and they shared some wine. She told him she was so happy that they were together again.. He explained that he had loved her at one time but now he had been happily married for 12 years and had children. He was happy he told her. Life had been good to him. All her years of anger and fear boiled in her mind. She was angry. She was crazy.
They found him in the sand with a corkscrew in his temple. The only witness a half-crazed homeless woman who said that she had recently taken up residence on the beach.
~
~BarTalk: Champagne Toast
~~
Impromptu: rot, election or erection
~Piffin: [June 29]
Code of the jungle
Trees rot before ancient stone
Innate election
~
~Greymane: Empty Trap
A poor man lives above his means no matter what he does
Survival bleeding carnal things to nourish what he was
He paints a way to get away from things that chain him down
He follows songs of laughter from the darkness all around
He travels dreams thought too obscene by judgment of the light
He’s trapped in empties in between so close but out of sight
He reaches distant promises that beat him like a drum
He barters things so precious that he kills what he’s become
He wages wars on inner peace with everything he’s got
Rewards of his fruition leaving memories to rot
Survival of the fittest on the road to where He’s been
Electing indirection as excuses for his sins
~
~Jessalee: jessa impromptu
dust not yet settled
quiet, save the occasional
sound of a gun
far in the distance
but the city was dead
save a lone newspaper
flapping as it blew
brown, torn, rotted
bold black letters
a contrast on the page
that swirled down
fifth avenue
headlining the results
of the election
that the world would
not ever remember
~
~ReenRen: Rot and Failed Erections
She wished to foster his erection, but instead the ugly head that reared tho quite unfirm was the rot within her house. It could not be denied. It demanded eradication and so consumed all of her attention. It baffled her completely, why it should be so.
If she created her reality, it couldn’t be hell no!
She battled on her private quest, as the nation mirrored conditions. she pondered how appearances can be so damn deceiving. a random poke below surface paint was all it took to see it.
It was her primary intention to shower him with love and fine attention. But the primary showed more rot, and the mirror spoke too clearly.
He said, “All my friends and I agree you must not say that about sweet Hillary”
And that was how it ended.
~
~BarTalk: two unku’l
~ . ~
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