Gesundtime

My first trip back through time took place on early Monday,
Just as I awoke from slumber deep,
Strolled into the bathroom for some water,
When I sensed an urge so deep to sneeze.

The oddest charge came rushing through my body,
Sensation I had never known before,
The ringer in my nose turned quite alarming,
I sneezed, and found myself in Harvard square.

The time looked like a day from middle sixties,
Given by the way the crowd was dressed,
Dr. King spoke from behind the podium,
People cheered at front, I sneezed again.

In my bathroom, staring at the mirror,
Confusion with reality mixed to match,
Did I wake, or was I still a dreaming?
As I pondered that I sneezed again.

Band rehearsal, high school banners hanging,
Mr. Young directs with confident hand,
I stood there at the center of horn section,
The music stopped at once, I sneeze again.

What to do? I washed my face with water,
This time voyage was getting out of hand,
All I had on was a pair of boxers,
Brushed my teeth, got ready, no, too late.

Silent meadow, farm house, barn, horizon,
Piston engine sound behind the trees,
Bi-plan soared above into the heavens,
Gunshot, whizz, I’d better sneeze again.

In the shower, wash in steaming water,
Just can’t sneeze, no way, no way, no how,
Should I call my doc or physics professor?
Dried myself and dressed for any chance.

Dialed the school, ”Is Doctor Karnes available?”
Told my day in brief, he laughed so hard,
Maybe I should come to sneeze in tandem,
Doctor laughed, “Sure, let’s give that a chance.”

In his office, “Sure you’re sane, not crazy?”
Silence, stood together by his desk,
“I have class to teach in twenty minutes”
A sneeze was growing within, I grabbed his hand.

In an instant, we are in some forest,
Pawpawsaurus growled right to our left,
Doctor Karnes retreated to the bushes,
“NO!” I yelled for him and sneezed again.

Back at Doctor’s office I stood silent,
What was I to do? My heart sank low,
Secret held, I walked out of the building,
Better go and get some nasal spray.

 

November 21, 2013

Cyber Me

Cyber MeClick right here to raise your voices,
Make a motion, to be heard,
Share among your friends and loved ones,
Make a dent and void despair.

Watch this movie to its ending,
It is sure to change your life,
Millions already took notice,
Tyrants sent their way demise.

Read this book or click to follow,
Spirit raised and continuance moved,
Read this quote for bred awareness,
Soul food served a mass the world.

Cyber sphere and global access,
Village spans the earth around,
From the comfort of your armchair,
New world order for mankind.

 

January 28, 2013

Suddenly

SuddenlyIt appeared at me one day, no prior hint or decent warning,
And introduced itself with no formalities or manners, just a shock,
It rested in my chest, taking comfort in my softness,
Held to be discovered, to be dealt with, once exposed.

I had no sense you were here, I told it with words silent,
How long have you been hiding here, alone?
I knew it from that foremost dreadful moment,
My day, my week, my life had turned to stone.

The confirmation at the clinic was relieving in a way,
Plans of treatment, course of action, elements of care,
Futility continues to be fleeting, day to day,
Time to paddle hard away despair.

 

January 23, 2013

Senseless

War follows me around the world,
Its footsteps heavy at my door,
It seeps inside my soul through electronic capillaries,
Like scents from distant fields carried by a whispering wind.

News reports slap me like shrapnel to a wall,
They glare on small screens with dramatic energy,
Chasing one after the other in endless quest for recognition,
Title bars and news crawlers attempt to sort out the blaring mayhem,

On the phone, a local news reporter, “I’d like to get your feeling on the conflict overseas,”
My thorough answer on camera is compressed into a one line bit on the segment,
Now I too am a single note in the cacophony,
Every channel, all the time, the blood is spilled,
We’ll be right back after this message.

 

November 28, 2012

Missus

Missus Robert Smith is that no longer,
Divorce came through this morning via mail,
She held the declaration, shaky fingers,
First smiled, but then her eyes began to well.

Friends and family, neighbor’s kids and colleagues,
Many people know her by that name,
Missus Robert Smith she is no longer,
Oddly, she feels naked by that change.

No one called her Jenny for some ages,
The missus was her name for quite some time,
Twenty-seven years they have been married,
Now a piece of paper says it’s done.

Jenny, she says softly, in a whisper,
Name she used to love to be called by,
Cradled it in memory, like a secret,
Now she claims it back into her life.

Jenny Ogden, Jenny, hi miss Ogden,
Sounds familiar, yet it feels so strange,
Change takes time, that she knows for certain,
She lets the paper slowly from her hands.

 

June 15, 2012

Simon

Simon’s mother passed on Tuesday morning,
The news came by as I was visiting my parent’s home,
I haven’t seen Simon since last day of high school,
A week after graduation, twelve years ago, we were both gone.

For the funeral, I wore my dark gray jacket,
On the church’s steps, I met Guy Mendelsohn,
He still lives in town, three blocks from his parents,
And drives deliveries for Westbrook and sons.

Simon sat in the front row, left of center,
With his sister, her husband, and their child,
They did not look back at us arriving,
We sat in a middle pew, all the way to the side.

Guy said she died from too much smoking,
Emphysema took her slowly at the end,
I don’t remember much of her from childhood,
Except her constant cigarette in hand.

The ceremony was quite somber, very quiet,
Simon took the altar and spoke brief,
He told of mother’s life and all her habits,
The daytime soaps and cooking were her thing.

A line of cars continued to Green Acres,
It user to be way out there, but no more,
The place is now surrounded by the city,
A new mall had just opened right next door.

Reception took us back to church’s basement,
Egg salad, tuna sandwiches, and slaw,
I joined Guy and two strangers at a table,
The small talk wasn’t going well at all.

Simon came to thank us a while later,
He was surprised to see me there at first,
“I happened to be visiting my parents,”
He smiled, “Give your mom and dad my best”.

Guy jumped in and asked him about Jenny,
They used to be a couple, that I knew,
“Not for quite some time now”, answered Simon,
“She went back to Chicago, studying law.”

The friendship that we once shared is no longer,
I tried to tell them both about my life,
It felt like talking weather with a stranger,
I said “It’s good to see you both. I’ll see you soon.”

Simon turned to talk to other people,
Lunch was winding down, I turned to leave,
Guy got up and wished me “See you later”,
My hands were in my pockets with the car keys.

Dinner, later, seated at my parents,
Sharing how my day went, how was theirs,
Dad had finished planting some tomatoes,
Veeromas, will be ready for next spring.

 

May 17, 2012

Dream Deep

Late last night I had two story ideas,
They just came clear to me in my sleep,
The subconscious mind open wide, ready and deep,
Scanning thoughts, taking notes, writing scripts.

My two stories were great, I knew right away,
I’d forget them by day break for sure,
So I picked up my phone from the side of the bed,
Pressed record, spoke them out in a blur.

My phone is a nice tool, an able device,
A know-all do-all enterprise,
Will direct you around town, play music and chess,
Make phone calls, take pictures, so nice.

Come morning I rose from my sleep, ready set,
I reached for the nightstand beside,
It was then that my morning regret realized,
My dream phone was a virtual device.

I am disappointed, my stories are bust,
They may reappear, that’s my hope,
For that night of good fortune, I’m ready and set,
I’ll use pencil and paper for notes.

 

November 20, 2011

Cash Only

Give me one dollar,
I’ll sell you a penny,
That saved a young soldier,
From bullet at war.

Slide me a twenty,
I’ll teach you instructions,
For picking a winner,
At boxing match brawl.

Show me a fifty,
I’ll sell you a moon rock,
That fell from the heavens,
And buried in soil.

For one hundred green ones,
I’ll share with you secrets,
For youthful appearance,
And endless vigor.

A cool hundred forty,
Will win you the pathway,
To wisdom of Solomon,
The wisest of all.

These offers I make here,
Will save and redeem you,
A dream of a lifetime,
Yours, now, for a sum.

It’s yours for the taking,
Delivered on payment,
Move quick, make decision,
Tomorrow, they’re gone.

 

May 24, 2011

Free Fall

Herod sat on the floor, hugging his legs tightly between his arms. Cold air seeped in through parts of his outfit, puncturing his skin with spills of tiny thorns. He surveyed his surroundings. All alone. The floor moved beneath him. It’s time he knew. Decisive, he rose, his body heavy. He covered the distance to the door in four quick steps, placed his hands against the opening, and jumped. His stomach refluxed as he fell. Cold air pressed his body, arching his limbs behind his back. The thoughts that plagued his mind seconds ago had vanished. Deep calm overcame him, flooding his psyche with near euphoric happiness. The ground rose toward him like a giant silent mammoth. He felt free, happy, and painless. A hundred miles per hour falling star.

One evening, when Herod was seven years old, he went to plug in the reading lamp in the living room of his boyhood home. Unbeknown to anyone, danger loomed inside the wall. Rainwater seeped through the ceiling, and soaked the aging electrical wires. When Herod came to insert the plug into the mustard-colored outlet, it happened. An unseen force shot through his hand, grabbed him like a million tiny needles, and threw him back. His little body sailed through the air and landed on the floor six feet away. The shock and surprise froze him. He rested there for a second. That brief state of surprise quickly changed to fear. His crying brought in his mother from the kitchen. The practical woman stopped at the door, touched her wet hands to her apron, and quickly evaluated her son. Herod held his left hand close to his chest, crying at a high pitch voice and looked at this mother with a blank stare. The young boy did not understand what had just happened to him, and could only offer a fearful cry as an explanation. After repeating her question twice to no avail, his mother surveyed the room for clues. Her eyes rested on the blackened outlet, and she understood. The quick conclusion relaxed her mind somewhat. She stepped forward, picked up her son, and checked his body for signs of injury. Herod was physically fine, but emotionally scared. The power outlet stared at him from the corner with darkened, squinted eyes, like a devilish creature ready to strike at him if he came near it again. His mother walked with him to the next room, and soon Herod found himself immersed in his Lego’s. The pain and sensation of the electrical shock quickly rescinded, but the memory remained with him for a long time after.

A week before his fourteenth birthday Herod jumped from the window of his bedroom, sixteen feet above the ground. He landed in his mother’s flower garden, and rolled on the ground a few times. His injuries included a broken ankle, two cracked ribs, and some minor bruises, mostly on his hands. The physical injuries did not alarm his parents so much. Their concern rested with Herod’s unwillingness to explain the reason for his leap. That reluctance, combined with his general gloomy mood in the days leading to his jump gave them reason to act. Over the next three months, Herod spent every Tuesday afternoon visiting with Dr. John Wayne, a local child psychologist who came highly recommended by their family doctor. Dr. Wayne had an impressive array of framed diplomas and professional certificates decorating his clinic wall. Unlike the real John Wayne, the doctor was a short, balding man, with a voice that better suited a young girl than a grown man. Following their twelfth meeting, Dr. Wayne invited Herod’s parents for a final consultation, and informed them that in his professional opinion, their son’s act was most likely experimental rather than suicidal. A type of behavior he described as “something that adolescent boys are sometimes prone to”. Herod was cleared to continue freely with his youth.

Herod’s eyes widened. The air pressure on his face pushed his skin up against his cheekbones, forcing his expression into an awkward smile. The earth below resembled colorful covers on a giant bed. The landscape seemed frozen in place, void of motion and life. A pillar of dark smoke arched in the distance, painting the horizon with a narrow line of disappearing black ink. The line reminded him of Helena’s hair. Dark, long, and wavy. Throughout their long romance, and even before they realized their feelings toward each other, they loved to explore physical challenges together. Helena’s room at her parents’ house was larger than Herod’s, and missed the suspended light fixtures that decorated his ceiling. One spring afternoon, they sat on her bed, working on their chemistry lab report. While Helena marked coordinates on graph paper, Herod walked to her large dresser, cleared aside some makeup paraphernalia, and climbed on top. He leaped into the air, and landed in the middle of the bed, sending Helena and their schoolwork into disarray. “You crazy dummy!” Helena screamed. “What are you doing!?” Herod grinned at her, exposing his teeth in a teasing smile, and without a saying word climbed again on the dresser. By his third jump she joined him, and together they spent the next hour challenging each other to which of them would make the highest jump, do the best air flip, or stay the longest in the air. The sound of a car door slam outside sent them rushing back to charting pH levels. By the time Helena’s mother peeked her head into the room, their breath rate returned to normal. The following summer this same bed would become a nest for their young love, but through it all their game remained. They became addicted to it, perfecting their mid-air acrobatics with each session. On the last Thursday of their senior year, they laid on the bed, resting in each other’s arms. Small drops of sweat rolled from Helena’s neck, down her breasts, and onto Herod’s chest. “I don’t think we’ll ever outgrow this game” she whispered. Her eyes narrowed in a thin smile, and she landed her lips on his. The memory of her taste flooded Herod’s body now, and he smiled, matching his expression to the forced smile the air pressure sculpted his face into. He turned and looked down. The ground was closer now. Only a few more seconds, and it will be over.

It has been years now since he and Helena parted ways. Their relationship continued on and off during college. In the years following that, they made a couple of attempts at making it work, only to realize it just was not meant to be. Helena moved on with her life with greater ease than Herod. It took him more than a year following their final breakup to try for a new relationship. He managed to lead a few successful affairs since, one of them even landing him close to the altar. Still, every once in a while he found himself traveling beck to his time with Helena. Remembering, missing, and wondering. Jumping, even alone, felt better than anything else he could think of. It was almost time. He was ready now.

Herod brought his hands together to his chest as if preparing to pull his heart out. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. He pulled the ring, as if ripping a bone out of his rib cage. A great force grabbed him, punching at his crouch and chest, and compressing his guts into his bladder. His lungs emptied at once. It was over.

He opened his eyes. Bright light blinded him. He squinted. He raised his hands over his shoulders, and followed them with his eyes. Dark green lines grew from his body, like perfect stems of a large flower bouquet. A white canopy bloomed above him, ferrying him down like a large wing. Life had returned to the landscape below. Small cars trailed on a road like busy ants out on a harvest. A train horn sounded from afar. The distant smoke pillar was still visible on the horizon, but Herod turned his attention to the green smoke signal near the landing marker below him. He pressed his ankles together and bent his knees slightly. It was time to land.

 

March 23, 2011

Winged Room

On a heavy, gray earth,
A large room spreads its silver wings,
Sails into the sky,
Toward a bloodied sun.

A white ocean lay across the horizon,
Showers life to the ground,
Motionless crowd, their thoughts a wonder,
Soars high above.

Distant life bubbles below,
Inciting curiosity and imagination,
Flickering in a distant haze,
Like tiny stars in the night.

The room is twinkling in the dark,
Floating in a sea of frozen air,
New dawn glows at the limit line.

 

May 11, 2011