I am tripping more than you are. Battling razzberries

[SadLuckDame]

My growing list of broken items.
I find it interesting about these things breaking around me, all within a year, like it's a little comedy act my house is performing on me.
It cracks me up some how.

1. Broken stair rail at the bottom of stairs

2. Broken stair railing going up stairs (this one the banister)

3. Dog chewed through door, broken door and he hates thunder and lightning with passion.

4. Sometimes washing machine broken cause it moves around until it gets stuck in the hole of the basement floor where water goes to drain out.

5. Broken comfy arm-chair.

6. Broken dog tie-out, which was bad cause then he chased down and bit a poor innocent lady collecting cans.

7. Broken coffee table on Friday, the kids don't know how the table legs jumped off like they did.

[SadLuckDame]

That was so damn nutty, thanks for the laugh tonight.
Paranoia...

[SadLuckDame]

I used to think up our phone conversation,
the one we'd eventually get to
and how it should be awkward,
but instead it'd just go like...

Him: "Hey u, what's up?"

Me: "Damn you! Where the hell and all that?"

Him: (laughing) "Oh! Cut it out. I was busy, had a girl to keep warm and you're the last person I thought to call."

Me: "Generally, I hate men and I'm thinking I still do."

And then we'd be back in touch, and I'd write a poem about it when I couldn't sleep at two a.m.

~Just my thoughts after reading the mr.'s wonderful piece tonight.

[stilltrucking]

Listening to the blues tonight.

Just copied something to my clip board and going to post it here as soon as I stop rambling about what I am about to post.

It is either a scene from a movie called Corina that I been watching tonight about every other reel I stop for a while and listen to some blues.

So I could be posting Corina Corina the song too.

Or it could be a song Arthur Crudup & Sons

<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/K_ZiX14VrHA&hl ... ram><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/K_ZiX14VrHA&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>

Speaking about free thinkers, I really like that movie Corina a lot.

Have you seen it? Do you remember the scene where Corina tells Molly that her mother is up in heaven waving at her? The father tells her he is an atheist and so was Molly's mother and please don't tell Molly is up in your heaven waving at her. And Corina says Ok I will tell her that her mother is in the bathtub. Great scene. But you woulda had to seen it. To know what the hcek I am talking about.

My automobile keeps going from one breakdown to the next just when I think I got call a wrecker to take it the junk yard it comes back to life. Lou Welch sells the best used cars.

good night

[SadLuckDame]

I'm going to watch it today, Jack. If I can find it.

Thinking about the Yough, and I always do.
Thinking about the section we called, "the end of the road."
We'd say it like this, "I'll be back, gonna walk down to the end of the road."

The end of the road was where we had our first fishing lessons, the water stayed shallow at the edge, much longer in than it did at the dock, which would drop to 20 foot very quickly.

I caught the catfish there at the end of the road, caught minnows, too
and small sized fish.

Funny thing about it there was when they drained the lake each year.

There is an actual pebbled road, it is hidden under the water.

I love to think about when they drain that lake, it's a chance to have a peek-see at all the things I might of swam over top.
Can find old railroad ties, fishing lures from 1925, anchors, fish bones, bird bones and hooks.

Makes me think of the catfish, the magician, and you the truck driver.

[SadLuckDame]

Reading The Art Instinct, and thinking about the human race before our time and thinking about children, their natural primitive natures already ingrained, then thinking , what am I like? Hunter, gatherer, protector, etc.

I decided I might be protector type, or born to become like that.

She might be in heaven and still might be in the bath tub.
Was reading The Abortion by Brautigan. There's a part towards the end where him and Vida stay at a hotel house. The owner gives them the best room, it was his own mother's room. She's been dead for awhile.

Brautigan walks into the room and first thing he does is shoo that Mother's ghost from the bed, from knitting her ghostly baby booties or something. Later on he tells the mother ghost to hide herself in the closet and not to come out again until after him and Vida leave.

A good scene.
Never watched about Molly, I'll see what I can find.

[stilltrucking]

Love that movie, you might like it too even if it is a "chick" movie

I can't find a link to the whole movie but you can watch it in episodes on youtube here is part one
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvCs9EIO ... re=related

I have only watched four parts so far.

[SadLuckDame]

Thanks Jack, gonna watch it right now
(gots to get away from myself for awhile )

Here are three itty bitty poems I wrote a while ago, but deleted.
Decided I'd like to put them back up here.

Wrote them after reading some Brautigan, so maybe you'll see his influence.
I like to read what I write and how it meshes with who I was reading at the time. So I always like to post somewhere who it is I'm reading, just a look back for me to keep track of.

.....................

Who are you

You're like a small sized bird
who got into my book of collected feathers
and thought somehow you could make
a friend of it.



If We Were Glass Things

You remind me of a glass
filled with Dandelion wine--
I never know how to tell anyone
why I've a like for it
and such a like.




A Catfish He'll Invite to Tea

If I were to have a chance
to fall madly in love with Richard Brautigan
I'd give him Marcia's curl
wrapped up in soft golden tissue paper.

P.S.
How do you know, I mean about all the stuff I'm going to like. You make me sometimes cry.

[stilltrucking]

Thanks for posting the poems again. I saved them.

Easy for me to write to my muses
Hard for me to read them.

[SadLuckDame]

I know, me too, if anyone wrote poems to me.
Here's another from about same time, right after bell jar...

In Her Curve

I pressed further,
unyielding and defiant
in my generous display
of crucial maddened habits
of drawing
the artificial line,

until the tip of the pencil split
to a dusty shatter
across her lip
on the page.

I tried the line again,
but she was nothing
as I'd imagined.

Tomorrow I'll use charcoal,
to beam candid in the nude.

[SadLuckDame]

Cause if I Drown, It'll be in a Large Body of Water

It's because to be brave
and face all these imagined monsters
is the only way
to be a ten foot tall Alice!

I'll not stay small,
I'll not stay small

Give me my damn dragon
starting with the tail
of course.

He can be fierce.
Oh! yes, he can be.

If I die on appetite
of him alone,
let it be my extensive
over-exaggeration.

[SadLuckDame]

It's About When You and I Write Poetry

I'm just going to get
a very tall glass to fill up with water,

we'll stare into it,
you on your side and I on mine.

If you want us to elaborate
wearing scuba suits and goggles

to make this more visually
accessible,

than I don't mind.
I'm relieved I'm not the artist...

I get the lazy role,
to be just the dreamer.

[SadLuckDame]

If I could, I'd wash up those oysters, I really would.

[stilltrucking]

Confessions of a pissant

Took me a long time to find Kerouac again. After I learned more about his sad life when he became an old man.

The saddest was the last meeting with his daughter. I name her Iphigenia.

What does it matter, he said he wanted to see his novels get married and raise lots of short stories. He expressed his love for his daughter the best he could. Told her to use his name and write books. And I think she found her father's love after all those years of being abandoned by him "the old drunk"

If I had a great grand daughter I would take her scuba driving too.

I save your last series of poems, hardly read them, going to save them for later. I do that with stuff I like. I been saving Rev Rabbits novel for some hard times reading. Got it two weeks ago nave not even opened the package yet.

Buk, Bukowski, yes I was a pissant about him too. Poets and their personalities. Buk's wife's wry humor in describing how he kicked her ass on camera during an interview.

And your Brautigan. It goes on. How to separate the writer or artist from their work. Or as Nietzsche said the artist maybe just the manure from which the art grows.

Ramble
I got a great haircut from mysister. Very cool. Her son wanted her to cut his hair too but she was too smart to do it. He says you cut Jack's hair and you cut Doug's hair (his father) why won't you cut mine?

She said I cut the dog's hair too but she does not complain. Niether does Jack or you father.

And I said poor little LuLu (the dog) was so humiliated by her haircut that she walked around with a bag over her head for a week. He laughed. Baby's coming, hoping my baby sister t akes plath's advice about sons.

[SadLuckDame]

I'm terrible at metaphors. All I can think of is Samson and Delilah, or some girls I used to get jealous about, and I had good reason, I still think so even after the amount of time and lessons, I'd prolly still go shove em all in the mud puddle.

I go talking to myself how easy it'd all be, if I believed in reincarnation, but I don't and I pick the hard way, always.

My son told me recently that he doesn't believe in Jesus anymore, and that he thinks Buddhist makes the most sense. And we all gots our own roads to walk along, I picked mine and sometimes I want to get drunk all the time, too.