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Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

The Stone That Skipped - pt 1

The stone lay unnoticed for quite some time
After being deposited upon the lake bed
By the ebb flow and movement of a glacier
Only just today being washed up upon the beach
Soon drying in the soft sunlight
Until it looked like any other smooth bit of limestone

I searched the sand for suitably flat-ish stones
Finding several
I handed half to my son
"It works best if you throw side-arm
Like this"
I said as I demonstrated the slightly awkward looking method
And we were rewarded by seeing the stone skip across the calm water
Four big skips
Followed by an almost uncountable number of mini skips
So close together that the spinning flat stone
Almost appeared to be zipping along the water like a boat
Until the water grabbed ahold of it
Taking it from our sight into the shallows

My son took one of his rocks and mimicked my movements
Though his first try propelled itself into the water at an angle
Like a missile
The water making a 'Gallulp!' sound
As the stone made a fast dive entry

He was not impressed
And made his distressed face at me
To which I smiled and made a 'watch me' gesture with the rock in my hand
Side-arm throw letting the stone spin off the end of my fingertip
Letting it rotate like a spinning plate
Bouncing off the surface of the water satisfyingly several times

My son selected another stone from his small pile
Slowly drawing his arm back to the side
Swinging around and releasing with good form
The stone spinning away from him in an unpredictable direction to the right
But skipping three times upon the clear water
Making us both cheer out loud

A couple more throws by both of us
And our handful of rocks was gone
Leaving nothing else to do but to look for more
With the Spring sun warming the backs of our necks
As we walked the water's edge with our heads bowed
Scanning the sand in front of our feet
Looking for just the right stones for skipping


Saturday, July 25, 2015

Weathered

Water vapor marshmallows
Towering overhead
Appearing set to smother me in sweetness
But dumping water down instead
With rivulets of ice water
All down my back
Raising all the goosebumps
Carving a canyon track

Until I resemble nothing more than the earth
Cut by weather
Of geological birth

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Draw Me A Prison

Stabbed in the heart with your cartoon butter knife
The pen is mighty in what it draws
Sharp lines and soft angles
Lengthening infinitely
Shortening my life

Cut by the paper you ply
Shallow by the thousands
Invisible to the naked eye

Peering through a thick lens
Focusing with all your might
Pinpointing the broad orange sun
Burning your signature with the light

I'd tell you to stop
Toss out my safe word
At the top of my lungs
But it would be the biggest lie ever heard

As the pain reminds me I'm alive
And that I love you


Monday, July 6, 2015

Jackrabbit Speed Run

Bored and disinterested Princess
I know just what you need
Something long lean and built for speed
Burning 100 Low Lead blasting Grateful Dead

Bleeding blue blooded royalty out the straight pipes
While floating valves at 8000 RPM
Accelerator flat on the floor by royal decree
Not being nearly enough for her tastes
Her Highness waves her crankshaft scepter
Tossing the ceremonial bejeweled Nitrous Oxide key

Inserted by reflex and rotated two turns to the left
Our soon-to-be queen giggles right along with the powerplant
A steadily rising high pitched consistent sound
One turning her face blue with glee
The other grinding its internals to expensive dust
Entering the flying start timing lights at maximum thrust

One hand pointed down the track
The other a claw upon my shoulder
She is roaring out some sort of command
I can't hear her but I make an assumption
Covering the intervening mile in a flash
Popping the chute
Killing the ignition
Ending in a last gasp low speed wobble crash

Head full of cotton from the change in perspective
A pair of lips and teeth upon my ear
Slowly made themselves known
Followed by a high end brassiere on the dash
And the finely manicured hand from which it was thrown
Beckoning me to turn around
Before the spell the speed had woven
Disappeared in the waves of heat rising from the white hot ground


Sunday, July 5, 2015

The Fifth

On the day after the Fourth
Burnt paper and cardboard frittered upon the breeze
Sand and grit stinging the odd bruised and battered knee
As revelers stirred within their makeshift beds
Blinking groggily with ill tasting mouths
Shading their eyes and holding their heads

The trash can that held the remains of the alcoholic concoction
Was melted straight through on the bottom
From the unyielding strength of the mysterious brew
An ever expanding puddle extending for seemingly acres
With seagulls lying passed out from exposure
Their beaks turned from orange-yellow to bright squashed smurf blue

A bloody once-white tee shirt lay alone in the sun
That dried brown crust a reminder of firework safety
Marking the spot where Whats His Nuts lost two fingers around midnight
Trying to show off with a homemade cherry bomb
Forming a memory that is thankfully blurry and fading further
As the late breakfast call of the Taco Truck breaks the mid morning calm

The tinkle tinkle of those bells
Rushing feet
Rustling dirty sheets
Cling ping clangy of money being spent
A world restarted after over celebration
Of yet another Fourth of July sped on by


Sunday, June 28, 2015

Silence

Silence
It's killing me slowly
Without an echo
Lacking waveform

No matter how hard I bang upon the keyboard
There is no accompanying clatter click of the keys
Whether the dusty typewriter from nineteen oh three
Or my buckle spring IBM Model M

Individual letters appear as they seem they should
But are lacking a soul
Forming sad depressive words
That trail off in suicide notes
Voted off the island though nobody votes

Walking in the overgrown lot next door
Where old sticks and past year's leaves litter the forest floor
My feet can feel what is beneath them
Breaking a dry stick here
Crushing a pile of brown oak leaves there
With no accompanying crunch crackle crisp peaks for the ear
Nothing is transmitted
A giant has sucked away all the atmosphere
Holding it hostage within her lungs
Until stagnation sets in
Exhalation never comes
And she turns blue

Keying the RUN command for a new mp3
Pressing play on a favorite compact disk
Activating spindles inside the cassette player
Cycling through the four tracks upon the 8-track
Lowering the stylus to the vinyl
Cranking the spring to spin the cylinder
Poking the piano player with a ten dollar tip

All result in the same flat formulation
A lack of notes within the staff
Clef both treble and bass
Seeming such a waste
This lack of cacophonic joy

An unwound broken sound toy


Sunday, June 14, 2015

Button-Eyed-Doll

Rag-doll bits and pieces
Frayed around the edges
Until nothing but threads remain
A screen door skin
Letting everything out
Everything in

Mismatched button eyes
One with two holes
The other with four
Looking out at the world
Remembering all the images
All the hands
All the breasts
All the kisses
All the pets

Recalling that far away time
That hands had carefully sewn together
All the bits that the relentless march of time
Was now slowly tearing apart