6/7 Are Endless

The past few weeks I’ve written about steps 6/7, more about 6/7,  (6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. 7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.)

Some wonder why it’s so hard to let go of behaviours that ultimately work against our progress? While others wonder why we are working to change in ways that no longer serve their best interest. After all people-pleasing isn’t so bad when you are the person being pleased. The social context of some of my behaviours was quite cunning.

To prove that I was clever, smart, deep, intelligent I was always ‘on.’ Being cynical & sarcastic was the way of proving & asserting my creativity. I had to keep proving it over & over. But is that actually a defect, a short-coming? I realized that the need to prove myself wasn’t actually progress. It was a sign of my lack of confidence, of a belief in myself – my value was only equal to your acceptance & recognition of me. If you didn’t laugh I was worthless.

As we step out of people-pleasing activity some will say things like “You used to be so funny, so easy to get along with, so open-minded … etc” Well, if I have to laugh at, add to or merely not argue with someone’s racist sexist bather to be approved of by them then it’s time to move on. I no longer even feel a need to teach them better – I did at one time but all  I taught them was that I was a judgemental no-fun prick – even if that’s true I don’t want people to learn that so easily.

People around us often want to to remain the same. When I got sober I lost friends who drank. When I tell guys on line that I don’t drink, smoke pot etc they just aren’t interested. Such is life. Those former friends are defective characters removed from my life 🙂

Then Things Changed

yes

that was me

then

those were my words

then

I believed what I said

things change

I change

stop trying to pour me of today

into the image of me

then

 

people tell me I’ve lost weight

when I was never aware

that they were aware

of what I weighed

that what I look liked mattered

then

I didn’t know or care

yet now that I’ve changed

physically in their eyes

they still see me

as the same person

but not so fat

they never said I was fat

then

mind you

but that I’ve lost weight since

then

 

I don’t say what I once said

my world view has changed

become broader

& more refined at the same time

my body gets narrow

my vision get clearer

in ways people notice

people I hadn’t set out

to be noticed by

then

 

now knowing

they’ve been looking

that they are capable of comparing

the old me

then

with the new me

I still don’t give a shit

but

thanks for noticing

Chapbooks available: http://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

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kiss3on going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

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August 31-Sept.3 – I have my ticket already

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September: TBA

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November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo

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June 8-9 attending: Capturing Fire 2018

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check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

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Boundaries

samprules2

Started a new set of prompts – I love lists of things – this one will prove to be endlessly productive for another couple of years – 227 Rules For Monks. These are from the 30 nissaggiyas. This is where 11 Not to accept carpets containing silk. took me.

Boundaries

don’t take this personally

but I cannot set foot in your house

again

it isn’t you

but the peanuts

you must understand I have nothing

against you as a peanut eater

well not too much

but the fact that nuts

of any kind

have been in your house

prevents me from entering it

the smell remains in the air

it coats everything

I cannot come into contact

with even the lest vestige of

almonds

walnuts

Brazils

pecans

just saying their names

makes me nauseous

it should be a criminal offence

for anyone

anywhere

to be in public after haven eaten

a peanut butter sandwich

don’t they realize the risk to

those with allergies

so I can’t go into your home

can’t even shake your hand

lest your last contact with nuts

of any kind

has left even a trace amount of poison

in your sweat

on your breath

if you really cared

you would make that one sacrifice for me

while we’re at it

 

no meat either

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

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Filler Up

Filler Up

I remember when Filler Up

came to our village

we had heard so much about it

from TV and radio

and finally it was here

it started with free samples in schools

we kids couldn’t wait

for the first Filler Up fingers

to come spurting out

of the golden brown fat they were fried in

they were tastier

than the lamprey lunch we were usually served

 

Filler Up certainly did fill us up

we were soon clamouring

for Filler Up savoury plum pudding

in greased knuckles

that went so well with the Filler Up fingers

soon we had Cherry Cheeks to add to it

 

when the school term ended

the first drive-through Filler Up

opened just past the movie theatre

so we could get treats

before going into the movie

how outraged we all were

when the movie theatre

put up a sign that said

no outside food

they were out of business

by the end of that summer

along with

Ma’s Smelt Und Chips

two local bakeries

and the sales of cod dropped so drastically

the stocks began to build up again

I’m sure even the moose

sighed a sigh of relief

when the hunters stopped going out every day

as Filler Up saucy snappers

replaced the staple of moose

that was until Sarah Eel arrived

they made everything Filler Up

but with different names

knuckles became chuckles

fingers became shins

they made everything cheaper

Filler Up sued

and lost

because no one can own

exclusive rights

to good food

 

Filler Up went bankrupt

defending its reputation

Sarah Eel lasted a year here

the villagers didn’t want to support

their underhanded corporate tactics

once they were gone

Ma’s Smelt Und Chips

reopened

but their food never tasted

as good again

There is some true memory in this piece only the memory is of A&W opening in Sydney. It was a major event. This was one of the first major fast-food chains to open on the island. It was on what was then the outskirts of town. I recall the excitement of driving up, parking winding down the car window and a unformed waitress came for your order. Everyone loved the root beer.

Twenty minutes later she’d return with a tray that hooked on the car window if you wanted to eat right there in their parking area. It was greasy yummy food. Restaurants in town were distressed that this would ruin their business. It didn’t. Eventually McDonalds, Dairy Queen, KFC franchises opened. All before there was ever a Tim’s. I think they are all still there in fact. I saw the A&W the last time I was visiting my old stomping grounds.

Each one brought the modern world to Cape Breton – the first shopping mall with a K-Mart became a cultural mecca! The long standing businesses seemed rather staid & old fashioned. It felt as if the economy was on the upswing. I didn’t realize that these were franchises with investments by local business men – they weren’t influxes of money from outside. Some of them lasted. Some disappeared across the country. Some graduated – I think one became a Wal-Mart.

In editing this piece to talk about it here I made some changes – added a sense of an ending that the original didn’t have. Like many of the pieces it deals with the cost of progresses or perhaps the cost of the appearance of progress. I also indulge in my love of making up corporate names & weird foods. I haven’t been into an A&W since I left the east coast.

 

 

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Lazarus Kiss.29

Sis amplexibus Amor alios mututa memini et amoris in mutationes memini.

May you be embraced by a love beyond recall that alters others

and a love within recall that alters you.

kiss

Lazarus Kiss.29

According to his cell the humidex was at a seasonal high. Ideal conditions for a few cold ones in a cool bar. He was tempted to drop into Story but didn’t know what he’d do if Alex was there. He hadn’t thought much about the curse all day. Was it broken. Did having Alex, who remembered meet Kate, who didn’t remember undo it? That would be sweet.

If it was broken perhaps he didn’t have to let anything develop between him and Alex. The thought of where that was leading brought back his anxiety. No, he couldn’t leave that unresolved. Alex didn’t strike him as a guy who leave anything unfinished.

There was more than one cold bar for a cool drink. There was always “Last Chance Chuck.” He couldn’t remember when he had been in there last.

Last Chance was cool. The Sapporo’s was iced to perfection. He was tempted to seek a hidden nook to avoid being seen but this was good a place and time as any to check if the curse was finally broken. No stranger had hit on him yet. Though his co-workers were acting more congenial than ever. Had the gift mutated so that people who knew him would now start to like him rather than just put up with him.

He’d never cared how well liked he was at his job. None of them were at odds with one another but there was no dE.tail baseball team either. Or was there? He’d never looked much at the bulletin board there. If it wasn’t in a Tavi text he didn’t pay attention to work stuff.

He finished his beer. Uninterrupted. He was home by six.  Threw in a load of laundry including the clothes he had been wearing that day. Too hot to wear anything it was a fine night to get naked and be with himself. And Andy Humpfun.

*30*

‘As long as Andy remains on his charge pad his remains fully charged for play. The programming allows for voice, motion or physical contact to make him operational. Using the voice ware module you can have him respond to a simple verbal commands such as ‘play time’ that will initiate his erotic functions. Try it.’

He was reading Andy’s user booklet when there was a knock at his door. He looked out the peep hole and it was Jarrod and Suli, a couple of the maintenance staff with his new door.

“Wait a sec while I get some clothes on.” He put on sweat shorts and a Spiderman tee. He lounged on his balcony while they installed the door.

The aluminum legs of the chaise slid back and forth as Harris lay on it. One of these lunch times he’d have to pick up a runner to put under it. Or one of those sample blankets with feet. Those neon colors were sure to scare the pigeons away.

It took the workers less than an hour to get the new door in place, leveled properly and wired up. It had an electronic peep hole for greater accuracy, one that would take pictures of anyone who entered and exited. Save them for a week. The new lock required an electronic swipe key. Same as his office. Suli didn’t know what happened if there was a power outage or if there was manual override. They could get him a users booklet for the door if he wanted one. Or he could check on line.

Restless after they had gone Harris decided to enjoy the almost cool evening. He went into Mug Thuggs for one of their iced chocochinnos and one butter tart. He was shocked that the place was packed. Following the lead of a couple other coffee shops they had deemed that night a weekly game board night. Bring your own or rent one of the house games. There were people playing Monopoly, Risk, games he had never seen including one involving tiny space ships and planets that took two tables for its set up.

He sat on the front patio. He was amazed to be feeling this normal, not to have that sense of either foreboding or wanting. Even his feet felt cool and free.

“Mind if I sit here.” A young woman asked him, pulling at the empty chair on the other side of his table.

“Sure. I’m playing chess in my head. Care to join me.”

“No thanks. Too much spacial visualization.”

“Good, I was losing anyway.”

She was pretty. Black hair pulled up into a bun on the top of her head. Thin strapped grey camy, freckled shoulders. He had another bite of his butter tart managing not to eat it in one or two bite or in less time than it took to get a place to sit.

“Good?” she asked.

“Yeah.” he wiped his hands on a paper napkin, not his shorts.

“It’s nice to just sit here, isn’t, decompress after a bitch of a day.”

“Yeah.” he nodded.

Her perfume had a light candy smell to it.

“You smell good.”

“Thanks. It Britney Spears’ new Love Hearts. I used to be crazy about them as a kid. Always wished I could get hem anytime of year not only around Valentines. The candies I mean. I have to confess I’ve added a dash of cinnamon oil too. You come here for the board games.”

“No, wanted to get out of my place. I didn’t know they were doing this here. Looks like fun.”

“I’ve never had the patience for that sort of thing. Rolling the dice, spinning spinners, taking turns, going in circles. It used to drive me crazy at a kid. Still does. I can’t even watch them you know.”
“Yeah we’re not Gen x but gen ADD.”

“For sure.” she laughed. “You a Spiderman fan?” she plucked at the web on his tee-shirt.

“Not really. I used to collect but grew out of it. You?”

“Nah. Buffy was more my style. You live in this area? I’m looking to move.”

“Plaza Place.”

“Nice looking bulding. Good location, too.”

“I like it.”

“Got a good view I bet.”

“Sunsets.”

“I’d love to see it.” she leaned forward running her hand under his baggy shorts.

“That can arranged.” Wow, so this is what a normal pick up is like. Harris didn’t feel compelled.

He open his apartment door and Becky went in first. She was on her knees when he entered. She pulled his shorts down and took his cock in her month. He was hard instantly.

She stopped and stood up. “Sorry. It’s been awhile since … you know ….”

He hoped this wasn’t the curse in action. It didn’t feel like it was though. He was aware of what was happening. He kicked his shorts away.

She slipped out of her clothes faster than he thought possible. They kissed leaning against the door.

“Oh my God. What is that?” she brushed against Andy in his corner beside the door.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

She pulled Andy into the light, lifted the Robin tee that Harris had used to covered him.

“Kinky.” she laughed touching the elf’s perfect cock. “What’s it taste like?”

“I don’t know. I …. uh ….. part of my job ….” He didn’t know how to explain. “It’s a prototype for Santa’s Sex Toy Shoppe’s Santa-faction line for next year. They sent me one to …. see how difficult they were to use.”

He moved the elf’s hands to her breast level and pinched the Andy’s right nipple. The eyes blinked and the hands opened and closed.

“Thank you for turning me on, Harris.” It said.

“Oh, my God. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.” She let one of her beasts fit into the squeezing hands.

“Soft and firm. Holy fuck that feel amazing. Have you tried this?” she pulled Harris closer.

“No. It’s …”

She put Andy’s other hand onto to Harris’s cock. She kissed him and put his hand on her other breast. Andy hand persistently opened and closed on his erection.

She ended the kiss and they disengaged from Andy. The elf’s mouth opened and closed and the eyes moved as if looking from Harris to Becky.

“My ex was always after me to do a three way, but chicks never appealed to me and guys never appealed to him. This is the perfect solution. Don’t you think?”

“I suppose.” Harris wasn’t too thrilled to have the elf’s hand on him but if it had been female how different would the hand have been.

“What else does it do? I mean …. sorry I know I came up here to be with you but a girl doesn’t find a toy boy like this every day. The eyes are pretty creepy aren’t they.”

“Yes.” Harris swtiched off Andy and left him at the end of the couch.

Becky was on the balcony. He joined her.

“Listen, this isn’t like me at all. I broke off with my boyfriend and this was the only way I could think of to make me stop thinking of him. He was mean bastard and you looked like such a nice guy sitting there. Cuddly.” She kissed him.

Can’t wait to read the whole thing? order the PDF for $5.00 – paypal.me/TOpoet – say you want Kiss

lazcover02

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This work is licensed under a

Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

The Eurythmics

The Eurythmics were a shock to the pop system. Annie Lennox wielded a stunning strong forceful voice and the songs were equally powerful, even without the amazing videos. The music progressed from synth to more guitar – it was never cast in the typical top 40 sound – such as Madonna. Annie could actually sing for one thing 🙂 But it was adult in sound & in lyric content. The lyrics beam more challenging as the band progressed.

Over two mp3 collections I have Sweet Dreams, Touch, 1984, Be Yourself Tonight, revenge, Savage. Too many hits to name drop. I loved Sweet Dreams with its commanding vocal – she wasn’t longing for but demanding what sweet dreams should be made of. Missionary Man is another of my favourites with the slithering insinuation guitar work. She Likes To Listen was amazing to dance to & the political was delivered with force without being strident. The band as always musical, growing & dealt with emotionally complex relationships issues.

I did listen to some of their solo work but it didn’t really move me as deeply as their work together. Good solid stuff mind you but it didn’t seem to aha the force or edge that propelled the duo work.

To round out the cd’s I added some historical context with a couple of lps by Cilla Black: In the 60’s, Sings a Rainbow- pure delight pop. There is an excellent bio series about Cilla that is worth checking out. Anyone Who Had A Heart is still stunning. A couple of tracks from Julie Driscoll’s Open – a late sixtes singer who was a groundbreaker. Dusty Springfield: In Memphis Deluxe Edition – yet another of those 60’s icons & this is an amazing packing of her most famous sessions – never a powerhouse singer she was an incredible singer but one lost in the rush for commercial success.

Some of Kathi McDonald’s Insane Asylum – a great Canadian singer who didn’t break out of that background singer trap – this as an astounding recording though. Where would Annie be without Nancy Sinatra: These Boots – one doesn’t think of Nancy as an innovator but she was smart enough to work with great song writers & fearlessly embraced then step away from that bubble gum image. A real innovator is Kate Bush: Hounds of Love – is yet another of her sonically amazing recordings – yearning, feminine & adult stuff – a woman who didn’t let the music world dominate what she chose to do with her career. I round things out with Bananarama: Twelve Inches Of, the antithesis of Eurythmics – Bananarama excelled in fun disposable music that made no demands other than shake your booty.

Beneath The Ice

‘When did it start?’

Mike shifted in the chair. The firm back held him, kept him from shifting out of the room, from seeping though the floor.

‘Surely you must remember?’

‘Half-remember.’

‘Good. that’s a good start.’

Mike knew that he’d have to watch his words. He didn’t want to be put though what he had been put through at that half -remembered time.

‘It was winter. Cold. Coldest that even my dad remembered. He said there wasn’t a degree on the on thermometer for how cold it got. Anyway. We were playing in the back of someone’s house. A creek ran through the far edge of the field. It isn’t there now though. Houses, rows and rows of houses.

‘Me and my bother Mark were pushing each other around on the sled. Fighting half the time time like we always did. Like kids do. I know now but then I didn’t. Sometime times I hated him so much.

‘There were some other boys there too. Jeff, Kyle kids from up the street. We’d get together and go to this field.’

‘The one that isn’t there now?’

‘Yes that one. This time we started a snow ball fight. Fun. Supposed to be fun. I never liked that kind of competition. Made me scared, you know, but couldn’t back out with my big brother there.

‘We chased them along the bank of the creek. It was near froze over but there were some places where the water lapped though. I lost my footing. I think. Anyway I found myself flat on my back on the creek. Everyone was yelling and some where laughing. I tried to move but I couldn’t. Found out later that I had broken my collar bone. I couldn’t get up.

‘I put pressure on my other arm and the ice gave way and I slipped between these two clumps of ice into the creek water. It wasn’t very deep but I knew I was going to die. The ice danced over my eyes. Light fractured, scintillated -’

‘Scintillated? That’s a big word for a kid.’

‘That’s memory talk. I see it now that dull sparkle of cold water on my eyes. I couldn’t breath, couldn’t move and because the creek was so shallow I couldn’t sink that far either.’

‘And that was the first time?’

‘Sort of. Not right at that moment but when I came to. Three days later. At the hospital all wrapped warm and my neck in this brace because of my collar bone. The nurse mussed my hair. As she did I saw her slip in the hall.

As she left the room I said. ‘Watch out for that wet spot.’

Chapbooks available: http://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

meandchap

kiss3on going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

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August 31-Sept.3 – I have my ticket already

fec17-header

https://www.facebook.com/events/526940540845331/

September: TBA

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1504753909765085/

November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo

nanowrimo_2016_webbadge_winner

http://nanowrimo.org/

June 8-9 attending: Capturing Fire 2018

https://capfireslam.org

check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee  – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Like my pictures? I post lots on Tumblr

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Still At 6s and 7s

Last week I wrote a little about steps 6/7. (6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. 7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.) Partly because one of my regular meetings was reading  & discussing them but mainly because it was my sobriety anniversary on July 6. How long? I’ll tell you by private post but suffice to say I’ve been around this block a few decades.

One of the things I’ve found helpful is to work the steps literally as opposed to what I thought they said. In these two I read ‘remove’ as ‘replace’ but that’s is not what is stated. The replacement process is my responsibility. The removal is not – it’s sort of like putting the garbage out – I have to take it out but I don’t have to load it on the truck – I have to take it out because the garbage men aren’t going to come into my house & find it either. So taking it out part of being ready.

My street has annual yard sale. One year, when the sale was over, I left what wasn’t sold at the curb – I did not take stuff back hoping to sell it next year – I let go. In the tarot the Tower card says the old must die to make room for the new. Its the same with my growth – if I keep taking those things back I’ll never leave space for change. Letting go of old stuff after a yard sale makes room, frees me from my attachment to expectations. I was willing to have emptiness.

The thing with letting go, with putting the garbage out, is that this isn’t a permanent solution 🙂 It has be be done regularly. I can reduce my usage – recycle when possible but I am human. I’ve come to see remove more as reduce, or redirect, or repurpose as opposed to being removed the way tonsils are removed, never to return. I still have my tonsils.

Your Sons

no I do not want

to sleep with your sons

or your daughters

for that matter

at least I don’t want to sleep with them

as a result winning this battle

in fact

if we hadn’t engaged in this conflict

I might well have desired them

but that was not the object

 

I don’t want to burn your crops

destroy your cities

I only want to win

I want you to acknowledge my superiority

in battle

that’s it

my superiority in bed

is another matter

one that I don’t need to prove to anyone one

my tanks are the biggest

the best

what I am in bed

isn’t relevant

 

I won’t want your wives

your homes

I won’t loot

your ancient treasures

I’m not going to change

your government

that’s up to you

because clearly

you were incapable

of taking care of yourselves

you are conquered

not rescued

you have to save yourselves

so instead of offering me

sexual solace

in hopes that I’ll do

what you have to do for yourselves

get busy

 

but

if

your sons

are so sexually attracted

by the power of my determination

I might be willing to give them a tumble

Chapbooks available: http://wp.me/P1RtxU-2f6

meandchap

kiss3on going 🙂 when new podcast are posted:  Disability after Dark  iTunes

http://www.andrewgurza.com/picturethisdoc

August 31-Sept.3 – I have my ticket already

fec17-header

https://www.facebook.com/events/526940540845331/

September: TBA

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1504753909765085/

November 1 – 30 Participating NaNoWriMo

nanowrimo_2016_webbadge_winner

http://nanowrimo.org/

June 8-9 attending: Capturing Fire 2018

https://capfireslam.org

check out these poets from  Capturing Fire 2015 & 2016

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee  – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

like my pics? more on my Tumblr blog

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Waiting for Godot’s Tip

samprules2

Started a new set of prompts – I love lists of things – this one will prove to be endlessly productive for another couple of years – 227 Rules For Monks. These are from the 30 nissaggiyas. This is where 10. Not to appoint a kappiya on his own, nor to be too pushy with a kappiya who is supposed to provide something. took me.

Waiting for Godot’s Tip

some people

you know

expect to be thanked

just for sitting at a table

if you don’t say

thank you for eating here

thank you for looking at the menu

they start making demands

with their eyes

mind you

you know

they expect you to know

what they want

expect you to apologize

if the specials aren’t special enough

if you don’t

bring water fast enough

they are waving their hands

you know

I try this for an hour

keep track of every little motion

ever wrinkle of the brow

to stay on top of their needs

to fulfill

because that is my job

 

that is the job of the world

to be constantly aware

and ready of fulfill

unspoken desires

all for lousy 10%

you know

most days it isn’t worth it

but it’s better than

starving right

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2018’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Cleansing of the Pudding

For the summer I’m going back to the series of pieces mythologizing my growing up in Cape Breton. Check the Village Stories page http://wp.me/P1RtxU-1fT for links previous pieces in this series.

Cleansing of the Pudding

of all the celebrations in my village

the one I enjoyed the most

was the cleansing of the pudding

it fell on the first Monday

after the feast of St Bartholomew

only if there was a new moon on that Monday

 

as a result it didn’t happen very often

once every five or six years

unlike the other festivals in our county

that occurred with such regularity

I lost my sense of wonder and awe

bored by what was going to happen

when we wore red and silver to

the monotonous Memorial to Moose Gutting

or to the tedious

Shiver of Scale Shaving Market Days

 

the cleansing of the pudding

was unlike all the others

no costumes were called for

no one had to don a creaking moose hide

or dance

in the twirling tumble of cascading smelt

though here was the obligatory

casting of the moose bones

which I later found out

were not moose at all but

squirrel ribs

there were two songs to be sung

as the pudding was cleansed

the first was an homage to

she who danced the first pudding

and the other was to the law of light

that explained

why it was illegal to have lights on after dark

the words were in an obscure dialect

so I was never sure just what we were singing

but the whole village would to join hands

and sing in the town square

around the sacred poles

that were kept in the darkened strip joints

this was the only time

they were brought into the daylight

for all to see and wonder at

we would sing the songs

moving in and out around the poles

the poles would glisten with moose fat

 

once the bishop had taken

them back to the strip bars

we choir boys would sing

the first song again and again

till all the poles

had been reunited with their sacred dancers

and thus the pudding was cleansed

There was a fairly large Jewish population in my hometown, Sydney. All through school I envied the number of holidays that would get them a day off school. These special days were none of the inspirations for the many ceremonial events in Village Stories. My Dad was a Mason which has its own set of rituals and mysterious hand signals.

 

In Village Stories I wanted to develop my own set of idols – the moose – and ceremonies. The natural of light & dark is played with as I developed some of these seemingly random elements. Strip bars as places of worship easily led to the poles as representations of May poles. Logical to me anyway.

 


Past pieces explore the sacred strips bars – not that there were any at that time but there were places adults went that children we not allowed – that secrecy became tantalizing. Re-reading this piece & editing it some deepens the mystery of where these images came from within me.

In much of the specfic I have been reading lately there were/are many stories building new worlds that are ruled by various systems of magic & ritual – the sort of ceremonial things that go back to the Druids – our search for a way on connecting with the mystic. Cape Breton has deep Celtic roots and it’s clear to me that that also drew me to creating my systems of connecting to the mystic – though I am more a surrealist mystic than a realist.

What is the pudding?

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Lazarus Kiss.28

Sis amplexibus Amor alios mututa memini et amoris in mutationes memini.

May you be embraced by a love beyond recall that alters others and

a love within recall that alters you.

kiss

Harris dashed down the stairs hearing a train pull in. He hoped it was his.

When he got home Harris stood in front of the mirror. Something he rarely did for longer than it took for him to shave. He looked to see how the haircut had changed him, how knowing about this curse has manifested itself physically beyond getting him to cut off his ponytail.

He pulled off his Jetsons tee shirt. The bruising on his ribs was pretty much cleared up though the ribs were still sore if he pressed hard enough. What had the doctor said – about how his body fat had acted as amour or he would have had broken ribs instead of slightly fractured ones.

Yes, he was fat. Not merely heavy-set. Compared  Alex, Harris saw that his body had no shape at all. He was a lump. No muscle tone except in his forearms from all that toiling away over a keyboard at the pixel mine. As if that was a real work out. As if that was muscle tone.

He grabbed soft ripples of his saggy stomach and pulled them away from his body. Looked full, felt solid but this was empty flesh. Substantial but with no content. No use. His body was essentially a useless shitting machine. The work he did at dE.tail was merely encouraging people to spend money on becoming more content shitting machines.

He got out the weight scale from deep in his bedroom closet. A gift from his folksr that was supposed to spur Harris on to slimming down. Yeah like that was going to happen. After all, thanks to the curse, he was getting hit on often enough that he believed he was attractive as he was. Why worry about the weight when the women couldn’t keep their glands off you.

He stepped on. 230. Nah that can’t be right. He stepped off and removed his sweat pants. As if that’d make a difference. 231 this time. Fuck he weighed more when he was undressed. That couldn’t be right.

On line he located a weight/hight/age guide and he was almost 50 pounds over what was considered healthy. He was lucky to be alive! Yeah, what did they know about healthy anyway. 100 pounds was too much. 50 wasn’t that bad. Fuck how did he let himself go like this. It wasn’t as if he set out to become a fat slob.

So this is what’s its like to be aware of my body. For the past thirty or so years all he consisted of was his head. All he ever paid attention to was his face and his hair. Even his hair was merely there – to wash and keep out of the way. And his feet, that got hot easily. Perhaps if they weren’t carting all this extra weight around they wouldn’t have to work so hard.

He pressed his ribs again to make himself feel something in his body. Was pain the only way to get that awareness.

What was that old joke – the male body is an inefficient life support system for the cock.

*29 Wednesday*

Harris woke without his usual sense of foreboding. He couldn’t recall the last time he had gotten up feeling this light. Recent events couldn’t be altered but he didn’t feel as trapped by them. For a change he looked forward to the day.

He tried another of cereals Jodis had given him and it was okay. Not what he used to but not a tasteless punishment inflicted in the name of good health either. He took the old boxes of cereal out of the cupboard and emptied the contents into a plastic bag, collapsed the boxes for recycling. He wonder if the cereals could be composted. Where they safe to feed to the birds and squirrels. Did birds suffer from cholesterol or could squirrels get diabetes.

He showered and, for a change, shaved. dE.tail didn’t have a dress code and because scraggly was acceptable there he’d shave as often as every other week. Was it time to get his hair cut too. It wasn’t as long as it had been but the ponytail was too hot when the weather was this muggy. Shorter could get rid of that hair grease streak that marred his tee-shirts. A stain that took two or three washings to get out. Though if he washed his hair more often that wouldn’t be a problem either.

Yeah, he’d skip lunch and get coiffed. Not as short as Alex’s but shorter than usual. He’s try a stylist and not trim it himself as he had for as long as he could remember. Dusan’s hair always looked good. Yeah, something like that only without the Scottish accent.

He pulled out all clean clothes for a change too. No point in wearing the same duds three of four days in a row. Adults did laundry. He could do laundry. His little unit could do a decent enough load in about an hour from wash to dry. An hour every other day this week would empty his hamper and keep it empty. No more sniff tests to see if a tee-shirt was okay for another day.

He checked the weather on his cell. Another heat-warning day. As long as the a/c at dE.tail was working he’d manage. He left his apartment with a smile on his face. He didn’t shrink in his seat on the subway fearful of setting off the curse, the gift. The run in with Kate showed him the effects of the curse in her life was positive.

The morning at dE.tail sped by to the pounding, clicking, bird calls and coffee machine gurgling he was used to. At lunch he went to Clip Trip to get his hair styled.

“How long have you had it this long.” The stylist asked.

“Years.”

“I can tell. Looks like you usually cut it yourself too.” She wrinkled her nose.

“A quick snip when the ponytail gets too long.”

“Honey, let me tell you, on a man a ponytail is always too long. How short can I take this?”

“Leave me something on the top.” Harris laughed.

“Trust me?”
“Yeah, why not, Hair grows.”

“Good I’ll take you into this century. How about bronze highlights? They’d work with your hair color.”

“Go for it.”

Harris closed his eyes and floated away listening to the clips, buzzes and the final blow dry.

“So, how does that work for you?”

“Wow. I look like an adult.” he turned his head in the mirror. It was shorter than he expected. His ears weren’t as large as he thought they were. “The highlights are definitely light.”

“They’ll tone down after a washing. Let me show you some product that will help your hair. It felt like you were washing with dish detergent. Not a good thing unless you want to be bald in a few years. And promise me never to cut it yourself again.”

He left the salon with a bag of product that he wasn’t sure he’d have the time to use every day. He did grab a couple of Mamma pizza slices on his way back to dE.tail. But only slices not the medium with the works he often had.

On his way to his cubical Lin stopped him.

“Looks like I need another one.” He held the two halves of a key board in his hands. “Took me a whole week to do this one in.” He grinned widely.

“What school of karate are you using on them?” Harris joked.

“I get …. carried away.”

Harris went with Lin to the equipment cupboard. There were no spare keyboards left.

“I’d give you mine but …”

“No you need it to make sure Santa’s pecker look okay.” Lin laughed.

“I hope I’ve seen the end of that, for this year, any way.” Harris didn’t know that anyone other than Tavi knew what clients he dealt with. He didn’t know what any of the others did either except in a very general way. They didn’t stand around the coffee station taking about work, only about samples.

“What are you working on?” he asked.

“Oh, top secret.” Lin laughed. “But it deals with online gaming in China. A very big market you know. Very big. That’s why I am so hard on the keyboards. Each dialect has different characters. It gets frustrating.”

“Let’s think. Who might have a spare.”

“I do.” Lin confessed. “I had to talk to someone. It seems odd that we work here all day and hardly speak to each other.”

“I suppose were all a little screen shocked.”

“So it as good to talk to you Harris. Some day we’ll do lunch.” Lin headed back to his cubical.

“I don’t see why not.”

Harris went back to his cubical wondering what that was all about. He glanced at his cell to see if he had missed a text from Tavi telling them to boost office moral in the name of productivity. There was nothing.

Toward the end of the day Jodis stopped by his cubical with another box of cereal.

“Harris did you try the Oatex.”

“One of them. The one with mango tasted great.”

“You see …. ” she pointed to a couple of small figures on the back of the box. “This is me at the Olympics. Wrestling with Simone Louisa from Bolica. I won the match which got us the silver that year. I get a life time supply which is ten boxes a month. Who can eat that much cereal? Not me.” She giggled. “So I can now share them with you. You know, the 1952 Olympics were in Norway. I was a nigh on a child but got bitten by the gold bug.”

“Thanks Jodis.”

He decided to get out of the office before Dusan asked him anything.

 

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Miles of Miles Davis

My introduction to Miles Davis was Bitches Brew. The cover blew my mind & the contents were challenging, exciting & inspiring. He was already a legendary jazz master now breaking new sound with the dense soundscapes he created on Brew. He was a constant innovator up to his death. Purists were disappointed often, hip-hop, trip-hop & techno were inspired.

 

 

In my collections are stand-alone’s & a couple of mp3 collections Birth of Cool; Mp3: Best of Blue Note/Kind of Blue/with Stitt Mp3: Miles/Cookin’/Relaxin’/Steamin’/ Workin’/Allen/Somethin’ Else; ‘Round About Midnight; Mp3 Blue Haze/Live in Stockholm’60 Stitt Carnegie61/Siesta/Live Evil/Under Arrest; Sketches of Spain; Porgy & Bess; Milestones; Miles & Coltrane; Ballads; Some Day My Prince Will Come; Love Songs; My Funny Valentine 1 2; Quintet: 65-68 6cd; in a silent way 1 2 3; Bitches Brew 1 2 3 4; Agharta 1 2; TuTu; Live at Montreaux; Live Around The World; Tribute

Over the years I have added to my Bitches Brew considerably. From Birth of Cool, his early work as a big band sideman, his bop 50’s, his impressionist 60’s & then Brew & beyond. His big band work is sweet, state of the art; his bop is hard, exploratory but rarely strayed into dissonant free jazz (like Don Cherry) – he was always aware of harmony. With Kind of Blue, Silent Way he enters a different sonic sense & mood; Sketches of Spain takes him into impressionism. Working with Davis changed Coltrane. Blue, Silent & Sketches are amazing lps that everyone must at least hear if not own.

Like most jazz musicians of the time he did lps of pop music but these were never mere instrumental versions but complex explorations of themes and structure. The expanded CD sets of Quintets, Silent Way & Bitches Brew are amazing – out takes, alternate versions & things that didn’t make the lps versions of the time. Exhaustive & rewarding.

In Brew he expanded the use of studio in the same way the Beatles did with Sgt Pepper. Brew uses sampling, layering, looping in ways that changed how jazz is recorded, creating a path for groups like the Avalanches. Brew also blew the door open for jazz to rock out & launched Herbie Hancock, Mahvishnu John McLaughlin & others. I’m a fan.

Urgent

Mike still had to repress the urge to warn others after he had had one of his mental flashes. In school the urgent need to warn got him into more trouble than it was worth. He was often seen as the cause of the event.

He remembered clearly the time he had called out to his grade four English teacher, Miss Beamly. In class she had pressed his arm while complimenting him on his essay. At her squeeze he’d seen her in a hospital bed, leg in a cast. After class he saw a car move towards her in the school parking lot and had called out.

The car missed her but she felt his look out call put her in greater risk.

Each time he had warned he had regretted it. He never knew what words would convey his meaning without seeming to be in on it somehow.

So now he suppressed the urge to warn. The events couldn’t be avoided. He’d also learned that. Miss Beamly broke her leg skiing later that winter.

For a time the flashes ceased but once he hit puberty they came back full force.

For a time he couldn’t handle objects others had handled lest he get a vision from them. The day he had used his older brother’s shaving lather, not that he had that much yet to shave at fifteen but his dad said practice makes growth.

That day he could barely hold the can of foam. He saw his brother in a fist fight with two other boys. Nose bloodied and laughing.

Later that day his brother came home bloodied.

‘What you staring at sook!’ his brother had snapped at him. ‘Someone’s gotta be the man around here and it sure as shit ain’t gonna be you. Is it?’

That hadn’t been something he’d foreseen. In fact he never saw anything for himself. Just for others. Others he was powerless to help. Pain he didn’t know how to avoid on their behalf. All he could do was wait to see it happen. Sometimes within hours, sometimes months later, an event would happen that he had seen would happened.

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