Posts Tagged ‘love’

Friday March 12, 2010

There’s an old fashion saying, “Home Is Where the Heart Is”. Perhaps I really didn’t appreciate the meaning of that until today.

After a two-week absence, spending all but two nights in hotels, I arrived at my own digs today. But the house was empty. As in, my wife was out-of-town. She is staying one more day with our children and grandchildren. As I reported yesterday, I was able to spend some family time with her and the kids Wednesday afternoon and Thursday. But I must regroup today and Saturday for a return trip to my project in Illinois on Sunday afternoon.

So now you may know what I’m talking about. I’m at my house but I’m not yet home. Home will arrive tomorrow in a red Prius with my wife. It’s funny because my wife believed home arrived today with me in a white Tundra. Home is a very complex concept that is sometimes hard to identify and keep track of. Although we were not in our house, we probably were more at home Thursday night at the middle school in Leavenworth attending Em’s band concert.

But we have been married many years and we have learned that we can adapt easily. I think you call it “rolling with the blows”. We have been very lucky to have raised our two children and now we get to watch our children as they raise their five and create homes for themselves.

Hopefully tomorrow after Marcia’s visit ends, their houses will be just a little bit less home without us. Just as ours through the years has become just a little bit less without them.

Such is the life of John

Deep down in Louisiana  *
close to New Orleans,
Way back up in the woods
among the evergreens
There stood a log cabin
made of earth and wood,
Where lived a country boy
named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned
to read or write so well,
But he could play a guitar
just like a ringing a bell. *

“Johnny B. Goode” by Chuck Berry

 

My name is John. I grew up in the 50’s and 60’s. So when the music “Johnny B. Goode” came out, I instantly had a new name.

February third ’59 may have been the day the music died in Clear Lake, Iowa but in St. Louis, MO, they were still singing about “Memphis” Tennessee  and still playin’ “Rock and Roll Music”. And things were just fine “Back in the USA”.

If there is a Heaven, Roll Over Beethoven” and listen, you’re going to meet one hell  of a Rock ‘n Roll Man!     And Ludwig, I guess even if you aren’t ready for this yet, your kids are gonna love it. **

We are going to miss you Chuck.

John

*  Lyrics from the Music  “Johnny B. Goode” by Chuck Berry
** Words roughly quoted from movie “Back to the Future”

February’s End

Posted: February 25, 2017 in free verse, poem, poet, poetry, writing
Tags: , , , , , ,

We had a February ending,
A time of two beating hearts
but not enough days.
Oh to have just one more evening
we would have arrived into the March of spring
and loved once again.
Refreshed , once again , bloomed, once again.

We must blame the short February.
A time of Valentine hearts.
But there was no sweetness there.
I could have given just one more gift,
if not for just one less day, in February.
just to love once again
And bloom once again,
into that next full March of spring.

DSS

It can’t be painted
But can we describe it
by just the smell of the shampoo
or the scent of perspiration
from under the arm
the touch of soft hands
the texture of exposed warm private flesh
the taste
that damn sweet musky taste
melded with strawberry.
The wet smoothness
the tight void
soft voiced sounds of yes and feel good
the loosened hips
and firm thighs’ rhythm and rhyme
the tight tendons
and firm stiffness
and curled colored nail toes
burst of nerves
entwined heartbeats and sated breaths
of entangled sleep and entangled bond.

DSS

When I need love
when I am blind and nothing else will  do
I choose your love
Your sweet sweet love
when love will bind our mind of two
When I feel love
I choose my love
when I’m blind and don’t feel what other lovers do
I choose your love
I choose love, my sweet love, my sweet sweet love of you.

DSS

“There ain’t no sin and there ain’t no virtue, there’s just stuff people do.” Casy the Preacher – Grapes of Wrath.

As a guy travels around the country, working on different projects, working with different crews and spending a little time with different kinds of men with many experiences and backgrounds, you learn not to ask any questions of their past. They may be and probably are there because of a past that they are trying to forget or get away from. But eventually a man will voluntarily begin to talk, without being asked.

Over the most eye squinting whiskey that I’ve ever tasted, Orie started talking. It was a very short story. The words seemed to spill from his mouth, slowly draining from his skull. Words that had been festering in his head for years and pushing to get out. It started abruptly with ” San Quintin is a terrible place to be. Men have been in there for years and are just forgotten, no family, no friends, no nothin’! They are in there because they had nothin’ and when and if they leave they’ll have nothin’, nothin’ but their old underwear and socks under a new cheap suit. I spent five years there pounding stones for rock roads. And I left with nothin. I know.”

He went on to say, ” Tin Cup Tim was a friendly sort, sold pencils and pens out of a tin cup. Wouldn’t have hurt anybody. We were on a high speed freight, barreling through Iowa. The train came to a fast screeching stop. High speed Coast to Coasters don’t do that unless there’s trouble. Stuck my head out of the box and I saw silver passenger cars side railed ahead. It was the California Zephyr with her engines down. Our freighter was pickin’ her up for the pull West of Ottumwa. Tin Cup and I stayed put where we were in the boxcar. They broke the train at the rear of our car, side railed and hooked on to the Zephyr. First thing we know we are part of a passenger setup. Unspoken rule was for the Bo’s to stay off the Zephyrs and there we were stuck there.”

“Tin Cup got real worried about this, the Railroad Bulls on the passenger lines were mean sons of bitches and didn’t put up with Bo’s on their trains. The freights were no trouble, hell we were part of the crews, but the Zephyrs got your ass beat and then thrown into the next jail! A few miles out of Osceola and Tin Cup decides to bail out before the stop. But the train wasn’t slowing enough for him to jump. While his head was stickin out the door the Bull on the Zephyr must have caught a glimpse of him and before we knew it the Bull had swung up and around and was on his way into the car. Hell we were still going 70 or 80 mile an hour. Well Tin Cup started a scuffle with the Bull, they both lost their balance and fell out the door. The Bull was alright cuz I saw him land and get up but Tin Cup fell under the train. Must of been drug the two mile to the depot. His body parts were strung the whole way. It was right before school time in the morning. An arm and a foot were dropped right in front of some school kids at a crossing.”

Orie went on to say that he’d stepped off the train unnoticed at the Osceola depot and started walking down along side of Highway 69 and hitched a ride at a big intersection in town with a car going west on Highway 34. He hitched all the way to Omaha.

“I hopped a freight out of Omaha, figured I’d take her all the way out to Emeryville, California.”

Well the railroad took the Osceola incident very serious. They couldn’t have body parts falling off their trains in front of school kids. And so the railroad detectives hunted down Orie and caught up with him in California. He didn’t say how they identified him, probably the railroad Bull. He knew it would be the Bull’s word against his about what happened and that would be used against him.They got him convicted of murder of Tin Cup. San Quintin was taking a few Federal prisoners at the time and he ended up there. I think any crimes happening on the railroads were handled as federal offenses and you could end up anywhere. “Glad they didn’t pick me up in Iowa!” he said as he pulled back his old felt hat and downed another shot, “I could have ended up in Ft. Madison.”

Orie spent most of the time in prison forgotten like so many others. Doing hard labor while working on roads. But he said one day he received a letter from a woman that he had known before the war. They had planned to marry when he returned from overseas. They corresponded all of the time that he had served in Europe. When he returned and went to see her, he found that she had been married for two years and had one child and was pregnant with another. She had mentioned nothing about the marriage in any of her letters and said she couldn’t bring herself to tell him while he was at war. I’m sure this is what first fueled his wanderlust.

She had heard from a friend about Orie being in prison and just couldn’t believe he had done anything to deserve it. Her father was a well known attorney on the East coast. She ask her father to do something to help Orie. Her father somehow got Orie’s conviction reduced to manslaughter and he was released from prison with time served.

In 1954 Orie Penny was given a new lease on life.

Into the Wind

Posted: January 23, 2017 in free verse, poem, poet, poetry, writing
Tags: , , , , , ,

I once knew a man in blue jeans that rode wild horses,
sang loud songs and drank cheap sour whiskey.
He went to his grave in a suit that he had never worn
as we listened to music he had never heard
and we toasted his life with thin stemmed glasses he never drank from.

I once knew a man who taught me to climb mountains,
to talk to strangers and to use my hands to fix broken things.
He died not from a high fall or from a miss-tied rope
but silently in his bed alone with swollen joints and sore stiff knuckles.
and a failing broken heart that could not be fixed.

I know a man who writes words and sweet poems,
loves his home and strong family
and lives to fly high into the light evening winds.
When he dies, we will surround him with his sweet family
We will read his tender words and verses,
We will cast his ashes into the light evening winds.

DSS

Boys, you better mind your fishin’ poles
there’s no fish, only turtles in this here tank
Here let me help ya roll that cigarette
I don’t come here to fish
don’t like eatin’ them anyway
Spend half the time pickin’ out bones
Came here first 40 years ago
I brought her with me just 20 years back
we swam all naked together then
She bet me a silver dollar she could get to the other side first
I’ll bet she still has that silver dollar.
It’s never wrong to love a woman like that.

“Probably playin’ with it in her blue jean pocket.”

OC

“That’s the scene I remember in “The Last Picture Show”, as best as I can remember it.  I need to watch it again.  OC ”

 

 

The time of our climb is over
the days of praise are through
of thorns and torn pedal roses
Awoken by misspoken words of you

No way to sway our clinging
The past at last is through
As pages of the ages lose meaning
So revealing our feelings lose too

If  we can not foresee a tomorrow
If the winds of sin won’t change
No chances of advances will find us
On the hope tightrope we’re estranged

So weave or leave our intertwining
Please meld or shelve our mind
Let’s solve or dissolve our troubles
Dream of or leave love behind

E

The Warm Breath

Posted: January 15, 2016 in love, poem, poet, poetry
Tags: , , ,

Come close my love
sit beside me dear
While I caress away your fear
Press your leg close to mine
Cuddle in beneath my arm
Let me touch your silks your lace
Listen to my heart’s embrace
Look up and give our first sweet kiss
we’ve only imagined the warmth,
the love of this.
Place your hand upon my chest
to feel me breathe the breath
of our first moment
of happiness.

DSS