Sunday, September 25, 2022

Ready to Rumble

 
—Poetry by Linda Klein, Playa Vista, CA
—Photos: Last Roses of Summer 
by Katy Brown, Davis, CA
 


ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD

I've noticed as I age, time has speeded up on all cylinders,
determined to get me to the finish line much faster than
I want to get there.  I must regard death as the end, for
it is the end of all I know.  I can't be sure if there is more.

I had goals, but I never knew how to reach them.
I continued my slow, agonizing dance, hoping for
an out-of-nowhere epiphany.

Now that my body is showing signs of systems failure,
the dance inside me is a fandango.  Drums beat
in a staccato rhythm, putting the drummer at risk for
carpal tunnel syndrome.

What/ can I still/ accomplish?
What/ will be/ my legacy?

I want to remain.  I want to resound in purpose and memory
through all of time, through all the time in this world.
 
 
 

 
 
GARGOYLES

I have always been fascinated by gargoyles.  We see them in the form of animal sculptures, often lions.  They are meant to drive evil spirits from a building with their menacing visages, thereby protecting its inhabitants.

In the condominium building where I used to live, there were no gargoyles out front, at first, only two lanterns programmed to light at dusk.  During the day we were completely vulnerable.

There was something odd about Dara and Zach.  As I drove into our driveway one late afternoon and saw them for the first time, both were leaning up against either side of the brick facing of the entrance.  They were a couple in their forties.  Zach had a shock of untamed golden hair.  Dara's hair, the same color, was tamer.  I found out later they were waiting for their tardy realtor.  They were exasperated and looked like trouble.  Unfortunately they bought the apartment.

Stories circulated about them in our building.  They made us all uneasy.  Zach told us he was an investment advisor and money manager.  Dara just said she freelanced.  Both worked from home, online and over the phone.  He ran for treasurer of our condominium.  When that failed, she tried.  We wouldn't have it.

One winter they were supposed to be visiting Dara's parents in Florida, when a sheriff's lock was put on their front door and a notice that their apartment was to be sold to satisfy a $1.5 million judgement against them.  Eventually the lock came off and the notice disappeared.  Dara and Zach remained.

Zach became gravely ill, his face and body, thin.  He appeared old, grizzled, and moved slowly.  Every week an ambulance took him for dialysis treatments and brought him back the following day.  At home, he sat outside in the hot sun, shirtless,  Dara with him.  I cautioned him about his reddened skin  "I can't get enough,” he replied.  "The sun makes me strong."  Tilting his head back, he blew a puff of smoke from his mouth, and two more from each nostril.  One day he miraculously recovered from his illness.

Now I wonder whether Dara and Zach were gargoyles, evil spirits, or both.  Are gargoyles evil spirits who thrive in the sun?
 
 
 

 
 
READY TO RUMBLE

It was a perilous time.
All Brazil was rife with crime.
Where were the villagers to turn?
Their homes were about to burn.
The government was so corrupt.
Overthrow it.  It must erupt.
Who could the common man trust?
Calling the policia was an absolute must.
Though they were part of the government too.
There was nothing else to do.

The officers rode in on the backs of yaks,
for which the people would be taxed.
Each officer was ready to rumble.
All were rough, tough, and tumble.
Heavily armed for their own protection,
they could quell any insurrection.
Frightened citizens cowered (ahem),
as lusty coppers overpowered them.
There was rape and pillage
in every town and village.

Then the cops deserted the ravaged scene,
staggering away to Huerta's cantina.
 
 
 

 
 
FUJI AMOR

Along with many other tourists,
I climbed to the viewing platform
on a rainy August morning
holding onto a folding umbrella
to stay as dry as possible.  It was
typical August weather in Japan.

The tourists were mostly Japanese.
I'm not sure what happened to the
people from my tour group.  Maybe
the weather discouraged them.
There was heavy mist everywhere
with light rain.  So far I could not see.

Swirls of mist prevailed.  Once on
the platform, I looked past the
protective railing to see what seemed
to be a giant, dark green bear coming to
greet me to hug away my disappointment.
Mt. Fuji bear did, indeed, hug me breathless.

______________________

Today’s LittleNip:

We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down.

―Kurt Vonnegut,
If This Isn't Nice, What Is?: Advice for the Young

______________________

Good morning and thanksto Linda Klein for her colorful poetry today! ’Twould indeed be wonderful to meet that giant, dark green bear!

And thanks to Katy Brown for bringing us some last roses of summer, reminding us of what will return to us next spring.

______________________

—Medusa
 
 
 
 Need a Hug?
—Cartoon Courtesy of Public Domain
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



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