Wednesday, November 25, 2009

In Spite of the Obvious: Thanksgiving

Give of yourself in spite of the obvious. Thanksgiving: The Obvious. The obvious is ritual. Old Pilgrim legend embraced in Rockwell dining rooms, domestic American poultry divied up by the Cleaver's cleaver. Candied yams and merriment and please pass the cranberry sauce. Embrace ourselves in glorious grateful perfection. Not.

Offer our gratitudes and share in the bounty, yes. But why must we partake in the charade? We are family, in all of our truly obvious imperfections. We trade the country mile for jet planes and interstates. Weary are the travelers. And more the traveler are we on this particular holiday. We are tired on arrival. Full of rest-stop stress and strain. Come in! Sit down! You've only spent the last five hours on your ass.

No need to pretend all is well in your life, any more then I should mine. This year, Uncle Albert got laid off. Aunt Ida has cancer. Cousin Elvin came out of the closet. We are all disenfranchised in one form or another. But the truth is, we woke up this morning and, by God, there is a shit-load of food on my table! I've got beer in the fridge, wine, whiskey, there's wood for the fire. We have plenty to inbibe, and not just the spirits. I expect some laughter, so loosen up! The only impression to be made here is how much of YOU you leave behind. That, and maybe an impression of Sarah Palin or two.

Happy Thanksgivin'! *wink wink*

Three Word Wednesday offered these: Give, Obvious, Thanks

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Creative Beauty

Creative beauty
Channels from the heart
Hastens humanity
From souls gaurded
Exposing self to elements
Bare to onlooking eyes
Shameless expression
Answers implicit,
To universal questions
Who we are
Why we are here
What will happen
The beginning
The end
Headlong into oblivion
A rubbernecker's banquet
Cornucopia of tragedy
Comedy, drama, and horror
We, the open book
Needing to spill forth
The stories of life
Within one
Among all
We share

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Little Saigon

The Viet down in Chelsea try to make their means. In the neon sparkled mist of Atlantic City's broken dreams. They scramble in the shadows of the casinos' gilded faux. Breathing life into a ward who's bones began to show. Lan secured a loan to lease a shop on Arctic Ave. To open up a restaurant he would give up all he had. The Vietnamese will lend a hand, as they're loyal to their own. They propped up Lan and cheered him on as he opened Little Saigon.

We can light the flame for every Little Saigon
Call it Ho Chi Minh by the Viet Cong
In the end, it's just an American song
For every broken dream here in Little Saigon

Lan would work the kitchen, his sister Mai would tend the floor. Mai was just sixteen with a face to be adored. The scent of lemongrass and basil and the warmth of sweet Mai's glow. Kept the customer's returning to a place where they were known. But like every ghetto mom-and-pop, there was more to pay than rent. Refuse to pay the gangbangers there may be an accident. The BTK from Chinatown were ruthless and obscene. They raped and killed his sister, Mai, when Lan would not come clean.

We can light the flame for every Little Saigon
Call it Ho Chi Minh by the Viet Cong
In the end, it's just an American song
For every broken dream here in Little Saigon

Three Word Wednesday offered these: Accident, Loyal, Obscene

Notes: This is a fictional ballad loosely based on real places. Little Saigon is a Vietnamese restaurant in the Chelsea section of Atlantic City, New Jersey. The setting of this pleasant establishment and the gentrifying neighborhood it resides were the inspiration for the story. The blight of gang violence in Asian communities in America is widespread and often underreported due to the cultural distrust of government in general by these communities. The BTK (Born to Kill) is a Vietnamese gang formed as an offshoot of Chinese gangs in New York's Chinatown. They were known to be extremely violent. While Atlantic City has been a magnet for mob activity of all kinds, any presence of BTK there is unknown to me.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Deep Ether

From the song, Requiem (One Way Home), a soul returns to whence it came.

"You live your life always fearing the end, but the end is the beginning, like a trusted friend
Back to the ether where we started from, our souls are in motion like the light of the sun"

Deep ether
Ancient swamp of souls
Clutching for the soular wind
Capture my sails and bring me forth
Once again into the spectrum of the living
Our white light in bloom through the prism of birth

Listen to "Deep Ether" here, if not in blogspot

Monday, November 9, 2009

Departing Alice

Departed is the love we used to share
That love was blinding
Never minding
The habits brought to bear

Consumed in you, my every day
Our carnal knowing
Ever showing
Our affections on display

We trade the glow for tolerance
Less love unending
Mere pretending
A tango-istic dance

Irritation is your very sigh
A sound like wheezing
Heart is freezing
Left wanting you to die

So raise a toast, to our precious love
The wine is malice
Dearest Alice
Depart for Heaven up above….

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The Longest Night

Virgin frost
Meets the dawn
No slave to Karma,
The sun
Obey Lord Gravity
And axis atilt
Waning daylight cause
The stem to lilt
Wither and whuther
Autumn leaves
The arc of the sun
Falls to its knees
Repealing its warmth
To the evening sky
Driving fleet afoot
And winged to fly

Gnashing tooth upon the lingering bounty
The breathing ones sup
'Fore the sleep of the longest night

Three Word Wednesday offered these: Karma, Obey, Wither