Posts Tagged ‘love’

I quietly opened the door and slowly peeked inside. Squinting through the narrow opened crevice, I could see a smoking cigarette, half eaten sandwich and cat licking an unwrapped bar of butter. The side of an Ice tea glass was still wet with dripping condensing cool ice cube chill. He had made a quick escape. Good, I would have the house to myself.

OC

 

 

Well, here I go, I’m breaking in the new computer.

I’m sure you’re way ahead of me.
There are many things I don’t know
when you say the words you say
Your unkindness can not help but show.

I really don’t know why I’m saying this
There is no amount of words I can explain
So shove this

Stop, stop, stop, STOP!

This ain’t my style! It my Mojo again! I done said diss all before!

Mojo back. That’s what you call it. When will I get my Mojo back? Have you got your Mojo back? You don’t have to put an accent to it. It’s just Mojo, plain and simple.

While you are talkin about no Mojo you can use “ain’t” a lot. You can drop your g’s in the i-n-g’s like, “I ain’t doin nothin about findin my Mojo”. You can do that because you ain’t got none. You don’t know no better. Oh, you will use double negatives, too.

Nobody knows where their Mojo goes. They just know that it’s gone. Away, far away to where you don’t know where. Just gone. You capitalize Mojo cause it’s a big deal. But you don’t know it til it’s gone. You may not know it when you got it. You just know it when it’s gone…..

I lost my Mojo maybe 6 months go, don’t know where, don’t know when, I just realized all of a sudden, I ain’t got none! Mojo that is. You feel sad, real sad and you walk slow with no Mojo. You walk slow, you talk slow and you feel real low with no Mojo. Mojo is a good thing to have. You want to keep it but you ain’t got no chance. It’s goin ta leave when it wants ta.

Mojo…back. Even a new computer don’t bring no Mojo back! Last time Mojo went to da beach!

DSS

Of God, Love and Arnold

Posted: November 4, 2019 in free verse, poem, poet, poetry, writing
Tags: , ,

We soon run out of poems if we don’t speak of love or God. Not that I like to speak of either. So I will repost my favorite Arnold poem.

 

Of God, Love and Arnold

You soon run out of poems
if you don’t speak of love or God.
Both mysterious things.
No mystery or awe speaking of hammers and nails
or horses or cats or birds named Arnold
Not all of these things or all birds
just one bird named Arnold
A story much too complicated to discuss here.
Although he does make a very good poem.
But speak of a God named Arnold and ears perk up.
God Arnold is a mysterious heavenly being
Full of love and blessings but with a very bad temper
You don’t piss off God Arnold he’ll drop ya in a New York minute.
Not like other Gods we could write poems about.
Interesting Being,
Books and scrolls could be filled with poems about God Arnold.
Poems that speak of love
and forgiveness before he throws you down a drain pipe
with a garbage disposal at the end.
Centrally located  somewhere in Kansas.
Because, He will drop ya in a New York minute,
For you that are not familiar with New York, that’s very fast.
God Arnold’s love is like that you know.
But he can be bribed
If you let him have all the fun
and you live on bare floors and eat nothing but dry shredded wheat.
Arnold the Bird has a much better life.
And you know, he makes for a much better poem.

DSS

I know, I know, December is the month of only Christmas expectations. But as we travel about from mall to store to online shopping literally and figuratively pushing our rattling, child pissed on, flat sided squeaking swivel wheeled shopping carts, we really need to pause and put life a little more into proper perspective.

Not only have there been “big deals” at Walmart, Macy’s, Best Buy and Amazon, there have been Real Big Deals that happened in the world between December 15th and December 25th in history that most forget about and fail to pay proper December homage to.

So put away the wallet, the credit card, Amazon Prime login password, your and your children’s selfish shopping list and pause a couple of minutes to remember what other things happened on these ten days approaching this holiday of whatever religious Christmas you celebrate. These are real human events, nothing mystical about them. Please just pause for a few minutes.

Remember:

December 15, 1791 – The Bill of Rights (first 10 amendments to the U.S. Constitution) became effective following ratification by Virginia.

December 16, 1944 – During World War II in Europe, the Battle of the Bulge began as the Germans launched a big counter-offensive in the Ardennes Forest along a 75-mile front, taking American troops by surprise. There were an estimated 77,000 Allied and 130,000 German casualties.

December 17, 1903 – After many years of experimentation, Orville and Wilbur Wright achieved the first powered, controlled airplane flights. They made four flights near Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, the longest lasting about a minute.

December 18, 1916 – During World War I, the Battle of Verdun concluded after ten months of fighting in which 543,000 French and 434,000 German soldiers were killed.

December 19, 1946 – War broke out in French Indochina as Ho Chi Minh attacked the French seeking to oust them from Vietnam. This marked the beginning of a thirty-year conflict which eventually led to heavy U.S. involvement and ended with a Communist victory in April 1975 after U.S. withdrawal from South Vietnam.

December 20, 1956 – The Montgomery bus boycott ended after the U.S. Supreme Court ruling integrating the Montgomery bus system was implemented. The boycott by African Americans had begun on December 5, 1955, after Rosa Parks was arrested for refusing to give up her seat on a Montgomery bus to a white man.

December 21st – Winter begins in the Northern Hemisphere. In the Southern Hemisphere today is the beginning of summer.

December 21, 1846 – Anesthesia was used for the first time in Britain during an operation at University College Hospital in London performed by Robert Liston who amputated the leg of a servant.

December 22, 1783 – Following a triumphant journey from New York to Annapolis, Maryland, George Washington, victorious Commander-in-Chief of the American Revolutionary Army, appeared before Congress and voluntarily resigned his commission.

December 23, 1888 – Dutch painter Vincent van Gogh cut off his left ear during a fit of depression.

December 23, 1947 – The transistor was invented at Bell Laboratories by John Bardeen, Walter Brattain and William Shockley, who shared the Nobel Prize for their invention which sparked a worldwide revolution in electronics.

December 23, 1987 – Dick Rutan and Jeana Yeager set a new world record of 216 hours of continuous flight around the world without refueling. Their aircraft Voyager traveled 24,986 miles at a speed of about 115 miles per hour. They were in the air without landing for nine days of these ten days before Xmas.

December 24, 1968 – Astronauts Frank Borman, James A. Lovell Jr., and William A. Anders orbited the moon during the Apollo 8 mission, becoming the first humans to do so. They performed 10 orbits, and the live TV broadcast became one of the most-watched programs in history.

Now do ya get it?

E.

( Merry Christmas from all the Gang, even E.  He sometimes slumps to a seasonal low this time of year.  John )

For E’s last year’s post.

 

 

This leather couch
I have sat in this leather couch
nearly 10 years
Is there anything more comfortable
than a leather couch
You don’t sit here
you sink in and lounge
Your butt becomes lower
than your knees
You must rest your feet
on the old coffee table
The hollow of your back is filled
by the generous cushion stuffing
The narrow gap of space
between the soft armrest
and the cushion allows
potato chips and pencils
and quarters to easily pass through
to the floor.
This leather couch.
It is for grandsons and old men
to fall asleep on.

DSS

Well I did it again. We received an E-mail informing us that I am offending another one of our readers.

My images of women’s bare backs and beautiful asses were found of poor taste, hopefully you have noticed them in our picture gallery side-bar of the DistantShipSmoke blog page. There are three of them. And as you all know, we do love naked women, all parts of them. But I guess, just to be tasteful or perhaps more teasing, I only display images of their backs and usually covered butts.

I am showing restraint. I don’t know, it must be due to our early Methodist upbringing. Don’t get me wrong, I love the frontal parts and other details of the female nude (preferably in person in the flesh) as much if not more than the soft smooth backs and buttocks but I just leave those wonderful frontal images for myself, so I can view them in private, with heavy mouth breathing, in front of the light and silvery glow of my 21 inch wide-screen high-definition computer screen.

The only thing as good as a nude picture is a nearly nude woman in lingerie, I do love (preferably in person) the images and pin-ups of women in lingerie. I used to collect them but we just didn’t have enough storage or hard drive space. Terabytes can be quickly eaten (heh.. eaten)  storing the high res lingerie and pin-up jpegs. We had clunky ol’ programs like Outlook e-mail, Office 2ooo, Excel worksheets, Cad drawings and Wire Shark data to maintain. We were constantly forced to make trade-offs between Rita Hayworth, Ava Gardner, Veronica Lake, Zoe Mozert, Jane Russell, Vargas Girls, Bettie Page, Betty Grable (the list goes on) or the complete set of Cad drawings for the Houston Oil Storage Tank Terminal. The decisions were dizzying! But I was the conscientious employee (most of the time) and work always won out, maybe a couple of times, Zoe.

So my dear reader, please don’t stop reading our stuff just because I find Vanessa Marcil’s and Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s perfectly placed Dimples of Venus on their smooth soft backs beautiful and worthy of sharing (preferably in person). Not to mention Vanessa’s perfect ass in 86% nylon and 14% lycra string tied bikini or Julia’s perfectly placed U.S. Constitution. (I know, John Hancock, didn’t sign the real document). We are really using more restraint  than I would myself prefer. And I find them both beautiful and intriguing and titillating and fun. You surely don’t want to rob a man of a little fun? Do you? The images are staying but please keep reading. But we do not want to hear another bad word from you of Pink Floyd’s six wonderfully placed nude body paintings of possibly the world’s six most beautiful albums.

O.C.

 

My “first”, we have all had our “first”. Just name it and hopefully you have had it. Nothing better than getting our “first” done and over with, no matter what or who it was. Which “first” immediately came to your mind when you first read this? Now just because something was your “first” doesn’t mean it was a pleasant experience. I remember my first beer with my old man.

On a very hot July afternoon, I was cutting weeds on my grandmother’s farm with my father. I came upon a very thick elm tree sprout along the fence line that the hand scythe wouldn’t cleanly cut, so I began to use a small hand saw. On my first stroke, the saw bounced  across the limb and landed squarely on my finger at the base of my thumb nail. It cut deeply into the flesh and nail.  The pain on my thumb and the sight of white bone made me a little sick and woozy. I asked for a drink of water, which we had just ran out of, so my father gave me the last cold can of beer in our cooler.

On that hot, humid day, I remember the coolness of the can and the sound of the crunch of making the two triangular holes in its top with the beer can opener. (Yes, before “pop-top” cans) I took a long, long cool swig of the Hamms and immediately got light-headed, sicker at my stomach and threw up.  That was my first beer with my father at the age of 12.

Not as good of an experience that you would dream, of a young man’s first sharing of a beer with the old man, but I do remember it distinctly and perhaps a little fondly. As I stood there, bent over, spewing and ridding my stomach of my over accumulation of the contents of that day’s water jug and its first introduction of beer on a hot day, my old man says “well it is too hot to waste it that way, if you aren’t going to finish that beer, I will sure as hell finish it for ya”. He threw me another rag to wrap around my thumb and we left for town to get the stitches put in.

And yes, after he evidently smelled my breath, the doctor asked , “have you been drinking?”.  I belched. The Doc looked at the sheepish grin on my old man’s face and only smiled and shook his head.

OC

 

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