I am tripping more than you are. Battling razzberries

[SadLuckDame]

Are we all connected, mingo?
Does that make them mine to enjoy too?

[the mingo]

That's a yes & a yes.

[SadLuckDame]

and then you and Jack are mine, too.

[the mingo]

greedy greedy greedy

[SadLuckDame]

Is that my appetite...Oh shoot.

It must be about surety and I don't know the unsurety has been interesting too.
I want both. I'm still gonna be this undeserving woman, just to complicate matters.
Undeserving or not though, mine, mine, mine. That's the kink he wants to work out of me, wouldn't ya believes, cause he doesn't wanna.

[the mingo]

connections are connections
forged on purpose
or forging themselves
even the undeserving ripple under the tongue
when the wind comes into the hair
complications are erotic foundations of
the mine mine mine which signals that
something already has been moved and
the kinks pushed around want to or not
by invisible tsunami

[the mingo]

It's almost noon and I'm sittin' here wonderin' just what is was I wanted to do. Read a poem from here this mornin' & when I finished it I looked out the window. My window is propped open by a stick that is slightly curved. That poem I read is like the stick, slightly curved and holdin' somethin' open. The wind is passin' into my room here through that window. Sunlight too.
Ya know, all a writer has to do is get the words in a line & the line nailed down.
Sometimes the line is rich and full, sometimes it's spare as a single bone layin' in the grass. Sometimes the line is laid as a bridge over moving water only just so one can cross over. Then there is the territory the line is passin' through. The lay of the land. Sometimes the line leads to a place of surprise & has the sound of a crow in it & it's Friday and the crow is hidden deep by all the leaves.
I planted some sweet grass in a spot in the lawn just to the south of the lodge a couple of years ago. The Indians use it for ceremonies and for it's scent. They say it has properties. The sweet grass I planted decided it liked me and grew well. This year though other grass has come into it. It's taller and darker green. So I have a conundrum. I tried to pull the dark grass earlier this year but it grows so close up with the sweet grass I was damaging the one I was trying to save and as soon as you disturb the earth you leave an opening for any of the millions of other seeds floatin' around out there to find a home. Conundrum.
The crow calls out over my conundrums too.

[SadLuckDame]

I been writing notes all night in a little notebook of mine.
Waiting to look at it today and see if what might become of it or not, if it'll scrap. In the meantime I was thinking of 'Smoke and Mirrors'
and found some quotes from Fernando Pessoa.
Here's one...

"My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps growing and is forever the same. Everything interests me, but nothing holds me. I attend to everything, dreaming all the while. […]. I'm two, and both keep their distance — Siamese twins that aren't attached."
— Fernando Pessoa (The Book of Disquiet)

I'll bees back.
Thanks you, mingo.

[SadLuckDame]

Some notes.

There were all the frozen little clams
and no life for them outside the sea.

I hurried to push them into the water
and named each small shell head.

.........

His subdued laugh of silence
with his ripe orchard heart.
It was all I needed to be warm on.

..........

The street as an animal.
It lurched forward on it's hunches.
I said to myself,
"So this is Maple in the dark."

[SadLuckDame]

See Polly See

[the mingo]

Spent yesterday afternoon on a l-o-n-g paddle. Got home and fell asleep in a chair. Woke up at three in the morning & made coffee. Found what you had posted in the cave. The house is very quiet. Outside the dark is very quiet.
I'm waiting now for the next thing. I have a walking staff I've begun workin' on. My neighbor Ol' Town came up with what he calls a "jig" last week that allows me to work again on walkin' staffs. Here at the lodge there is no garage or shop like I had where I moved from. No way to work with wood. But Ol' Town's "jig" is like a vise that locks down the staff and holds it solid so you can work on it. Now it's four in the morning and the kayaks are still on top of the Cherokee. Coffee is flowin' into my veins. The day has begun.

[the mingo]

Ain't heard on ya all week, Doll. Whacha doin'? Goin' campin' outta the kayaks as soon as Nancy gets back here from runnin' 'round. First time this year for this. We got all this kind of thing down but it still can be a production. Headed up to the Salmon. Next week goin' to the mountains. Neighbor Mad Mad Ol' Town has invited us up to his camp and for a trip on the Jessup River. Been checkin' this river out on youtube and such. I think it's gonna be a good one & I'm lookin' forward to it. We were up there on a different river last year and had a pretty up & walkin' good time. So's I'll catch ya Sunday night or Monday.

[the mingo]

Forgot...had a vivid vivid dream last night. Conversation with the dead. Did not want to wake up.

[SadLuckDame]

I'm here, I don't know how though
cause I'm pretty much just in a daze. Happens to me a lot and in those dazes I just go about on habit and instincts I guess cause I've very little thought in the fogs.

I had an invention dream again last night. Someone invented this new contraption that cooks rice or pasta and it was designed for people with food allergy, food particulars or picky eating kids. Basically there was the option to choose rice or pasta noodles, then options to choose what mixes in it like pepper, salt, butter, carrots, celery, etc. all at the push of a button digitally. The whole restaurant was designed in that fashion for a fast food basic ingredients that the consumer chooses.

Enough about that.
I thought only once today that I remember.

I was out in the backyard listening to my dog have a conversation with the neighbor dog. It was incredible. I was so amused by it, the answering after neighbor dog barked, the increase in excitement in the middle of the conversation, the polite one bark answer and the long seven or eight bark answer. It was thoroughly enjoyable to me.

I will miss you while you're away on the river.

Thank you for the new picture.
Those are the colors I feel like right now today, this Saturday.

[the mingo]

i woke up this morning before the birds. in a tent on the shores of a lake. it was not raining yet. that was yet to come. the rain did come and lasted all morning. i went back to sleep.
the rain stopped and i got in some paddling but it was windy after the rain and decided to break camp and go home. Got home unloaded everything except the kayaks. Ain't ate much all day. the spirits were contrary. watched the illusionists this evening & the story they told was of an older woman who was accused by her nephew of sitting in a stolen chair because of something he was taught in a graveyard. his daughter could not sleep because of the ghost. the house was chained but then it got free. the illusionists work for the storytellers who turn it all into gold because the heart is the best slave of itself with a chamber for everyone and some folks are born knowing how to work there.

i saw a bird by the lake today i had not seen before. i tried to identify it with a book when i got home but didn't know where to start so i closed the book. knowledge isn't everything. mystery is.

sometimes the spirits are contrary. there is nothing anyone can do about that.

the lake i camped by and paddled on today is in reality a drowned river. sometimes that drowned river reaches up from its grave and makes you feel like you are paddling through molasses. the wind was against me too. there was nothing for it but to break camp and head home to the illusionists with their graveyard schools, their rackers & pirates & thieves & women with long red hair and broken men.

'Nite, Doll.