I pushed my quartersover the edge...
Plunked them
onto
the bartender's side
smiled
and chugged the last
hoo-rah,
twirled
and shimmied off the seat,
another day
another night
another song on the juke box played for a dime,
I almost called it a Tuesday
and walked out the door....
But it was a new day
and
only three quarters fell in the well,
the other one
modgepodged itself
to my fingertips
and wouldn't let go
not even to smoke....
so I giggled
and wiggled
and the jukebox had hiccups
and caught on fire....
it smoked
fizzed
sizzled
and stirred our careworn bodies
into a fast-forward flying tango
a rewind reality check
a pause and let's go
gimme three steps kind of
momentum
coursing across the floor
like a hot spring on an icy
mountain top
and we weren't the only ones
moving
shaking
rubber band twanging
and not once faking...
The best is yet to come
the worst is yet to come
We can take it in stride
or in full-flight regalia
This day is one of many
and all it's own color
it's own flavor
There's only one like it
and that's right now
this second
this moment
and to think we only know it
by the one name we can think of
Today
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57 comments:
It's a flip~flop moon,
inside out and backwards,
On my side,
it's hide and seek,
peek-a-boo,
"I dare you".....
but on the flip side
it must be waning,
fading,
settling into
a cardboard sky....
a 45 with a one time hit.....
it was a circle in
the center,
spirographed
and blue....
one potato
two potato
three
potato
you,
and then you did the
hokie pokie,
put the left foot in and
the right foot out,
and turned it all about
And we're doing figure eights....
It's another one gone down
the blue turned to pink
orange red and violet
Another one yearned to
slip into the comfortable
shades of a moonrise night
we grabbed our drinks
steal our lone selves
to be together as it falls
and the light of the stars
spells out so many names
we forget them all
as we make up the stories
that keep us laughing
sighing, speaking and crying
until the process reverses
blue black turning violet
red, orange, glorified pink
the rhythm is spellbinding
the progression is a mirror
chains of days like chains
of souls
captivated by morning's glory
and every love-link
I heard you knockin'... But it's me who wanted in!
it had to take any army
a mountain
a rock-your-world
ride
to send him,
bring him,
find him
casually walking
up the drive,
wearing red "how-do-you-do?s"
and "Happy New Year's to you's"
and a rainbow in traffic,
for me to say,
"fine,
but not today...
butterflies are free,
and you can fly.....
try, my friend,
and you can fly"....
clink!
I thought I was here by myself, listening to stones, scribblin' on the walls!
disregard my message at the Hippie Parade!
I didn't see it!
you aren't alone--I have the email hooked up to my comments, finally. So I see your clink! as soon as it tinks.
How've you been? It seems like forever!
It does.
I'm OK. Hanging in there. I was glad to see you clink! so I hoped by right away.
I'm like burstin'.....
gotta thousand subjects to
bla-blabber about
to stand on the mountain for....
and only one beer to get me through the moment
and three hours sleep to tide me over
talk, talk, talk, my friend, I'm listening.
It's been strange moons, this New Year....
all around....
everyone shifting, changing, moving.....
and I'm just watching,
waiting,
floating.....
There are break ups
and hook ups
and watch mes
and don't ever talk to me's,
blow ups,
and buy me's
and sell me's
and in the midst of all
the pandemonium
there is peace
It's like musical chairs
but the record skips
and then gets stuck in the grooves
and all I wanna do is
put Stones on.....
and rock and rolll....
It's like deja vue,
Soap opera digest,
the writer's strike
doesn't mean a damn thing,
everybody hootin' and
everybody hollerin'
and everybody
playin'
"I'm your little teapot
short and stout,
tip me over and pour me out"
I'm sittin' this one
out
watchin'
rainbows
in
traffic....
this is peace
to string a word to another
like your hippie love beads
words like
Majestic
Mayhem
Peaceful
Pandemonium
Happen chance
Happy dance
The downtown lights glitter
in your eyes like starfire
the words roll off your tongue
like a waterfall
and I am here
madman in a barrel
daring to take the plunge
as they swirl around my soul
cleansing senses
sensing the way down
that I was not the first
or the last
but the luckiest
because in the water of your words
I know I can swim
as though born
in their mystic currents and eddies
And if I had my way
everyone I know
would strip down
to their
"could've beens"
and climb
in your blues,
a parade of plastic
'tip me upside downs"....
and we'd all ride the river....
goosebumps and river rocks...
free
Sit it out until
the song changes
to your sweet tune
and then we'll dance
and show the rest
the power of peace
and the music of love's waltz
because there she is
flouncing in now
flinging vibes and smiles
and jazzy jibes
like favors from a queen
to the jokers at her feet
the floor
she owns it
no question
ask her once
in no trouble tones
and maybe she'll let you
have one dance of daydreams
set in sundown red twilight
"and then we'll dance
and show the rest"
I clink! you to that my friend, the world has gone mad! But, it's okay,
like it's meant to be,
a madhatter's party
with a fairytale ending
Pssssttttt.....
everything is good here, it's the world out my window
that's skipping rope
and it blows my mind....
people trading peace
for "what might they think?"
and sleepless nights
for cotton sheets and simple dreams.....
I just don't get it.
When you trade your soul...
If I had my way
everyone would listen
to the singing soul inside
their love chest
Amen, my friend,
but it's a voice that whispers
and
sometimes the biggest things
are said
in the smallest ways....
I don't get it either,
So I stopped trying
and maybe one day they
will play catch up
maybe they will get it
or lose it
and I'll find it
keep it
love it
share it
their lemons and rain
might just be
our sweet refreshment
from the sky
in a glass
a drink
to clink!
the silvetoned blue sky
their clouds
will be my pillow
and my eyes will rest
watching
god
as she
dances by the lamp light
nightstand;
a one night show
for eyes all alone
the butterfly.....
moves mountains....
makes shadows....
trickles the tide forever....
sometimes it's the
quiet
that's the loudest after all....
As mountains bow
to the buttefly's wind-kiss,
shadows flicker
linger
in the do-come-hither
whispers
before the dawn
As loud as a volcano
as soft a love's laced
fingers
trailing south
before the dawn
Housefull growing, friend,
so I have to say goodnight,
but thanks for meeting
at the bar,
for quartering up the jukebox,
lining up the michs and
swiping another coaster
to scribble on,
to share,
to pass....
May the circle be unbroken....
and the night become tomorrow
this way the butterfly
comes
Mountains are nothing
the endless
sky
is her blue
and eternal home
It is good to see you guys "painting" again! Keep the words flying, you artists.
lol - great comments.
Awesome words :)
Hooked on the fly
by his sly
invite
Pimentos peeking out like worms
wiggling
sinking
all the way
down
down
the glass-bottom boat
So I martini up
and martini down
taking to the bait
Ahhhhh the salty taste of being caught
olive in mouth
with neons blinking
"Open all Night"
The Butterfly Bar
has caught a new patron
Whhheeeewww! Did I miss happy hour or what?
Kim.....We'll leave the paints out on the bar,
opened,
every color ever named
and all the ones
yet to be.....
the walls, the ceilings, the skies are free.....
May we all paint on......
clink!
miladysa....:) Happy hour at the Butterfly!
Pythia....May the circle be unbroken
and the
chocolate peppermintinis flow!
Peace~love our friends,
and another round
on the house!
"Bluer than purple"
Colored rain
from a cloudless sky
a rainbow
falling
one shade at a time
an
oilslicked
puddle now
an accidental mirror at my feet....
brown eyes
lost in the swirls,
staring back
at the sky,
bluer than purple ever dreamed of
Excuse me, can I get a Johnnie Red on ice? If the Orchid Room is a sleazy Jazz wharfside nightclub then this place is the Filmore East, circa '69. Cool bananas. Is there a shady character lurking about moving a few of those butterfly pills. I'll have a handful. Holey mackeral, these hippy babes are something else too. Check out the movement in them jeans. Turn the music up! Bartender! Drinks all round. My shout. Yeehahaha,
Gingatao
Jonhnie Red on the rocks coming right up... slide it down to ya.
Yeah the girls and the mugs come and go, but us bartenders are always here for a laugh a smoke a drink a ramble and some real-time rock and roll.
Welcome to the Filmore of the Ethers
the house is a rockin'
Purple sky-eyes like
the days gone under
waterfalls of them roaring
slipping down
down
down
to the places where time
moves on quick bare feet
in say nothing tones...
Because it stops here,
the Big House full--
all snarls, snags
and blue moons risin'
all of us bumper to bumber
elbows bangin'
horns wailin'
voices sayin'
"I knew Jerry Bear
way back when..."
"I met Mick and Keith
in a taxi cab by the docks"
"Janice gave me a ride
on her Indian with the
suicide clutch"
"Greg Allman was my dad"
and by the morning
its a wash
nobody knows the time
knows the score
knows the name of the day
or their own
But the sun is climbing
and soon it will fall down
down
down
like the rain
like the night gleam
in brown eyes reflected
purple in the fading evening
rainbow soft light.
Talk to you later, Sing!
Taking my dad in for an MRI.
Peace and love
The doors in this
ole Saloon
swing open,
Swords of daylight
fall in strobes,
Christmas tinsel rain,
and I run out
barefoot to
kiss the sky....
The party's never over...
Is your Dad okay? Ours went for tests yesterday, too.....Surgery next Wednesday. Lemme know, friend.
peace~love
New Day shining
He's OK, just lots tests related to an injury.
I'm hoping the best for you and yours, though. I'll be gone all weekend. But I'll talk to you when I get back and we'll raise the roof with a porch party.
Again, you take care.
Peace & Love
Oh, I'm glad you think it's gonna be OK.....:)Travel safe, my friend, and enjoy!
Need to raise the roof
toss the shingles in the shrubs,
raise the rafters.
stand 'em up.
cocktail stirrers for the sky....
It's a martini moon
lopsided smile
in a polka dotted sky
and I'm blue
for just the moment
between then and now...
Remembering....
fridays are for dancing
and I found
you there,
leaning in,
and over,
and lost for a
moment....
a beer....
a friday night out....
tiny little trinket
in the
lost and found
I found a one-armed
three legged starfish today,
naked on the beach,
hiding
under green mistletow,
mermaid hair,
dying....
I tried to scoop her up,
to take her back to the
green~blue womb of her birth,
but she fell apart in my hands,
spent
and
tired,
and suddenly
as free as
a butterfly.....
How can I compete with beauty like this?
Three words affected me
like match put to the fuse
"I love you,"
her scribble last line proclaimed
and I fell back through the Earth
and forth from the stark blue sky
in the mid afternoon burn...
Lit as I read her letter,
a Roman candle bursting shimmers
that sparkled into the clouds!
A chariot rolling in triumph
A bird of prey circling high
in the hot rising currents,
I was the sun, the moon
the light in the night bird's
searching eyes,
I was food for a starving child,
The proverbial day that every dog
dreams about,
The promise of a new day
and the dawn of that itself
I was the neon sign
welcoming all lovers under my glow
I was the strip and the endless
summer night of the city
I was the wind in their
wild streaming hair
the convertible top down
I was the moans of ecstacy
coming from the open window
high above
I was the crash of the waves
on the beach we walk on tonight
I was that tiny space between
two hands
filling with sweat
waiting for release
I was the arms
the lips
the press of one body
against another
I was the comet...
I was the prayer...
I was the shot heard around the world
I was the first ray of light
and the last
And I will be back
and I will be there
and I will be everything
But now
I am not.
For those words were so long ago
the light has burned out
and her mouth
has been silent
her pen broken
her page empty
Three little words
that will never be again
are no more mine to have
or her's to give
but one random
five and dime fairy tale day
a long living legend
lit one more time
and heaven will burn
with my glory and light
a pink rose flying high
through black velvet night
She's high,
incognito and
obvious,
castanets clinkin',
black babydolls
and
fishnet hose,
dancin' on the tabletops,
secrets
on the skillet....
fryin'....
she's high,
up to no good and
everything
better than
the time before....
flitting back and forth
between the yellow pages
and the
google-me-nots,
pink candy for
the moment....
She's high...
Cheap Candy for the moment....
It wasn't forever,
or eternity...
but a hiccup,
a conversation interrupted,
laughter caught in a bubble,
sky~bent
floating,
lost in the wind,
bridge hopping,
flying
96 mph
with the roof off
to the
traffic light
stuck on yellow
just before we crossed
the street...
Mona Lisa of Monday night
a million years gone,
a blue star screaming
in the foreverness--
a lonesome glimmer
of her cold distant light
It's a new Tuesday morning,
meeting midnight at the pass
we finally see it clearly:
the end was then,
a new begining to yet come,
glittering and bejangled,
a parade of rockstarlets
and gallant troubadors
marching onward toward
last call and beyond...
If I offered you a ride home
in my love-struck motorcade
would you take my hand?
my keys?
my face in your hands
kissing me back to life
until the tequila rosette
early morning twilight
reminded us to fall down,
hands that hold faces
touching the earthly god
called my lover
to catch us with grace--
would you sleep by my side
for a million more years?
And meet me again
on wicked Wednesday night
on the gasoline soaked
dance floor
scorched but alive through
this slowest of all burns...
And it's Wednesday,
the wicked child,
curl in the middle,
half way up
and half way down,
blonde
and
"See Jane Run" innocent...
Wednesday
at the candy store...
And it's Thursday,
five dollars at the door
and they
wooed me
bribed me
pulled me in on a kite string,
and dangled me over
the campfire,
"somemores"
on the dancefloor to
Wild Thing and
Rolling Stones...
And it's Thursday,
Friday's are for dancin',
but tonight's good
for a spin....
Friday's are free,
a blue balloon
chasing the moon,
a chain of daisies,
"he loves me, loves me not",
...petals strewn everywhere....
Friday's are free
and
I'm a
barefoot flower girl....
Saturday night soul-love
made hot on the telephone
made ready to go--
the small hours counting
each minute,
each second,
each breath
like the last
or the first:
one
just for
the side-winding road
spilling out behind and
ahead of our step
two
for the godess's
eyes falling lower
and coming closer,
as wide as the moon
golden coin rising
in the dark
three
for the
"don't wake them up"
shushes, pursed lips
the knowing finger
"nobody knows we're here"
and the church mice take
their tea as the door
sweeps closed
behind our bare feet
* * *
Sunday crept in cat-tyle
holy day
grace day
soul and spirit and
smiles as the sunrises
and love spills out
on the warm sheets
like the sun
through the stained glass
window casting red wine
blue ice
green glows
yellow all-over-us
becoming
being
been
was
is
will be forever
the writing on the wall
runs in blue ink...
like your mascara,
unnecessary
but enticing all the same
Sunday soulmates
sitting back to back
face to face
love to love
and the sun shines down
on another sweet-soul Sunday
doing our best
to keep it holy
to keep it as long
as we can...
A gift from the butterfly
called time,
she loves me and that's
all I need to know.
Clink!
Beautiful!
Absolutely beautiful!
Time stopped
accidently
tumbling
dune~rolling
crumpled
in a
notebook,
love letters
in psychedelic colors
blurring
running
spilling
on the pages...
THEN......
And now
the tick tock
the maybe swing
the "time is on your side",
a lullabye,
an afterthought....
the traffic light
back
on yellow...
blinking....
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