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| Rod |
 Posted: Fri Mar 30, 2007 1:39 am |
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Joined: 21 Dec 2004
Posts: 2944
Location: Lithgow, Australia
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| marantzo |
| Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2007 10:11 am |
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Jacquie wasn't too thrilled to have a guest for the night. but she was a good sport about it. We sat around and talked. I didn't want to, but I had to tell her why Mr. Swingtime was staying over. She was not happy. Not happy at all.
-Max. are you nuts! You are going to get yourself killed! I'm just sick about this. Did you even think about me? What are you, eighteen years old?
I tried to make light of it and told her that I was just warming up for my big comeback in the world of ultimate fighting. She was not amused.
-Miss Jacquie, it wasn't Max's fault. The guy attacked him. Really, it wasn't his fault.
She seemed to calm down a bit. She looked at the floor and shook her head slowly and said softly,
-I hate this, I just hate this. I makes me sick to my stomach.
I went over to her and hugged her and told her I was sorry and not to be upset because it wasn't as bad as it sounded. (Though it was).
Swingtime saved the situation by telling us his story and Jacquie's mood changed from very troubled to fascination.
Swingtime's real name was Langston Hawkins. He was born and grew up in Atlanta. His mother was a high school English teacher and his father was lawyer and a close friend and adviser of Martin Luther King. His family was pretty well off and outside of the racial struggles at the time, he grew up in a rather typical middle class environment. He attended Emory College and got a degree in anthropology. He went to New York and obtained his Phd in anthropology at Columbia. A fellow alum. He was hired by the Museum of Natural History and was moving up quickly until the day he was crossing Central Park West and was hit by a bus. The brakes had failed and he sustained some head injuries that had him in the hospital for some time. He recovered fully except for the fact that he had lost all his knowledge of anthropology and a few other memory problems. This destroyed his career of course. He sued the city and was awarded a multi-million dollar settlement based on future earnings and pain and suffering. His superiors at the museum gave glowing testimony as to his potential and that pretty well nailed the case. The city appealed but the appeals court let the award stand.
I remembered the case and was stunned to learn that Swingtime was Langston Hawkins.
He bought a condo in Greenwich Village. One day for no apparent reason he decided to go up to Harlem and hang out. Someone stopped him on the street and asked for directions to the Audubon Auditorium. Langston reverted to his time in a Rap band from his high school days (his father hated it), and gave the directions in string of Rap lyrics that included the shooting of Malcolm X. .
-Man, I don't know why that happened. It just came out. The guy said, Thanks for the directions and the performance. Gave me a buck and walked off. I guess I looked like I needed it. I found the experience comforting. I felt like I belonged somewhere. After the accident I was completely aimless and my life was very comfortable but really empty. I started going up to Harlem almost every day and chatted up the people on the street with my rhyming schtick. I'd found my niche. I was a street performer.
Langston started laughing at what he had just said.
-Yeah, a street performer. My father would be so proud.
He was laughing almost hysterically. Jacquie and I just sat there, agog. Then Jacquie broke down and started to laugh. Then I started. We must have been speechless with laughter for about five minutes before Jacquie said breathlessly,
-Oh God, that's the weirdest story I've ever heard.
-I don't know about you guys but I'm beat, I'd like to have one last drink and hit the hay.
Jacquie and Langston thought that was a good idea and we did just that. |
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| Lori |
| Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 11:02 am |
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Joined: 28 Nov 2006
Posts: 37
Location: Beautiful downtown Burbank
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ll keep
Deep in a dream of you.[/quote]
Oh well, Im sure you could have written it. It sounds like you. (I think) I'm not much of a sinatra fan, so I've never heard that one. |
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| Lori |
| Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 11:06 am |
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Joined: 28 Nov 2006
Posts: 37
Location: Beautiful downtown Burbank
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Marj wrote: Lori,
Behind the Curtain I posted about changing from Thirdeye to subsilver. I did it intially because my eyes were tired. But now I'm a confirmed subsilver user. Why? I HAVE NOT GOTTEN THROWN OFF ONCE.
Finally I no longer have to type somewhere else and then copy and paste.
And I can make the switch for you if you'd like. Just let me know. OK, sweetie?
I have no idea what you're talking about. What is subsilver? What does it do? How do I use it? Will it mess up anything else on my mac? I'm the queen of the newbies! |
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| marantzo |
| Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 11:29 am |
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Welcome back Lori. It's been a while.
Subsilver is a version of how the forum is displayed. If you go to your profile, the link is at the top of the page under the title, you can edit your profile and one of the options is subsilver. scroll down and you'll find it. |
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| Lori |
| Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 4:33 pm |
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Joined: 28 Nov 2006
Posts: 37
Location: Beautiful downtown Burbank
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I just read all of this and I must say I'm impressed. you may not consider yourself a poet, but your adjectives and descriptions of things are indeed poetic. I like the story line too. One small caveat: I'm not at all opposed to words like cock and cunt, but in the bedroom scene with the Japanese guy, the use of the word cock sort of jumped out at me as harsh and below the level of the lady enjoying it. I would have liked something a little more poetic/romantic/gentrified. A small thing. It didn't stop me reading.
Congratulations. |
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| Lori |
| Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 4:55 pm |
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Joined: 28 Nov 2006
Posts: 37
Location: Beautiful downtown Burbank
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marantzo wrote: Welcome back Lori. It's been a while.
Subsilver is a version of how the forum is displayed. If you go to your profile, the link is at the top of the page under the title, you can edit your profile and one of the options is subsilver. scroll down and you'll find it.
I have a profile? How do I find it. God, I'm hopeless. I see it in the toolbar, so I'll go there and see what I can mess up. I went there and the word subsilver never appeared anywhere. Is it only a PC thing? I use an iMac. Oh well,
It has indeed been a while. I've just done something I've never done in my life. I entered a poetry contest. I typed, spellchecked and assembled 80 pages, containing about 150 pieces and mailed them off yesterday. The prize is $3,000.00, but more importantly, you get a book of your stuff published and promoted nationwide. The contest is only for writers who have never published a book, and the rules said they wanted to read experimenal, classical and also stuff that is "direct and highly accessible." That last one is what hooked me. As either you or Rod said after I printed my first lines "You say what you mean and get out of town". I loved that comment because it's so true. I can't say I meant for my writing to be that way, but that's the way it always seems to come out. ( I would never attempt a novel because it would end up being a short story. I'd forget to put in any exposition or color in backgrounds or characters and just run off the action and call it a day. No one would read that kind of thing.)
I don't have a prayer of winning the prize, but the rules also said that the editors of Crazyhorse Journal would be picking out some various pieces to print in their mag., so maybe I have a chance at that.
Prior to last week's orgy of typing and correcting, I was recovering from hip replacement surgery. (My second one. I'm now the Bionic Woman) So I wasn't on a lot. Too busy being the rapid recovery poster girl. Now I've caught up a bit with all I missed at work and around home, so I can get on a little more. I'm going to go to the middle of page 11 next and start reading your work. I'm looking forward to it. I'll be back to let you know what I think. |
Last edited by Lori on Sat Apr 14, 2007 5:10 pm; edited 1 time in total |
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| Lori |
| Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 5:07 pm |
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Joined: 28 Nov 2006
Posts: 37
Location: Beautiful downtown Burbank
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[quote="marantzo"]Jacquie wasn't too thrilled to have a guest for the night. but she was a good sport about it. We sat around and talked. I didn't want to, but I had to tell her why Mr. Swingtime was staying over. She was not happy. Not happy at all........
This is excellent- what's it from? I want more. |
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| Lori |
| Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 5:23 pm |
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Joined: 28 Nov 2006
Posts: 37
Location: Beautiful downtown Burbank
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Here's one for today.
POETRY READING
There's no need to shout at us-
If your words paint any picture we will see it.
We can squint and peer through lowered lids
And find the image in a myriad of dots.
It is not necessary that you push us-
We will follow if you gently lead, and find the storm
As fierce and moving as you think you need
To act out with your thunder voice and flailing arms.
Inflection works as well as histrionics,
And a subtle tone allows us space to build
The structures that your words describe.
There is no need to hammer us.
Singsong forces us to wade into the stream
And wield our nets of understanding endlessly
In hopes of capturing like silvered fish
The thoughts we'd rather cast for from the shore.
Just stand and calmly pull away
The drapes that hide the cake you wish to share.
In simple words divide it up
And we will eat it and be filled.
(c)
Guess that kinda sums up both my writing and reading style. Back in the 60's I did do several readings at coffeehouses here in L.A. I was young and beauttiful then so I got away with it. |
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| marantzo |
| Posted: Sat Apr 14, 2007 5:44 pm |
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[quote="Lori"]marantzo wrote: Jacquie wasn't too thrilled to have a guest for the night. but she was a good sport about it. We sat around and talked. I didn't want to, but I had to tell her why Mr. Swingtime was staying over. She was not happy. Not happy at all........
This is excellent- what's it from? I want more.
That's the book I'm writing now. (the last part I wrote so far, the rest is on here) It's a sequel to my first book and I'm having trouble getting it to move along, unlike the first one which just zipped along.
I was the one who wrote that "....get out of town", comment. I'm sure glad that you thought it was appropriate. |
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| Lori |
| Posted: Mon Apr 23, 2007 6:10 pm |
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Joined: 28 Nov 2006
Posts: 37
Location: Beautiful downtown Burbank
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Here's something I wrote last night. it's very different, because I didn't refer to myself once in it. I've noticed everything I write is personal, and that's not good. Gets to be too much like I'm writing a diary. This also is purposely tougher sounding than usual.
DOWNWARD SPIRAL
When the world turns to shit
It spins around three times first,
Stubs its toe and gets a hangnail
That bleeds all over the brand new tablecloth.
It tries to say excuse me, and
Makes a snot bubble that drips down.
When life becomes a piece of crap
It dents a fender on the guard rail
And snags a nylon getting out to check.
It slams an angry finger in the car door
And ruins a forty dollar manicure
As well as the remainder of the day and week.
When day to day existance manages to stink
It drains all joy as well as bank accounts
And leaves behind a bitter taste and bill collectors
Calling at the dinner hour to guarantee
Hot tempers and scorched gravy;
Not to mention breaking Grandma's teapot.
When the future learns to disappear
It takes the smoke and mirrors
That make living possible away with it,
Leaving only what is real and hard
And uglier than hate behind
To build the stumbling blocks of now.
(c) |
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| chillywilly |
| Posted: Mon Apr 23, 2007 8:34 pm |
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Joined: 20 May 2004
Posts: 8251
Location: Salt Lake City
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| That was good, Lori. And some of us can relate (well, not to the forty dollar manicure... ) |
_________________
Chilly
"If you should die before me / Ask if you could bring a friend" |
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| ehle64 |
| Posted: Tue Apr 24, 2007 2:29 am |
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Joined: 20 May 2004
Posts: 7149
Location: NYC; US&A
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| Aye, I liked it too. |
_________________
It truly disappoints me when people do something for you via no prompt of your own and then use it as some kind of weapon against you at a later time and place. It is what it is. |
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| marantzo |
| Posted: Tue Apr 24, 2007 9:57 am |
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| Lori, even though your poem scans a little jerkily, it gets better with multiple readings. You have a very good facility for illustrating life's drawbacks. Good stuff. |
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| marantzo |
| Posted: Tue Apr 24, 2007 12:29 pm |
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THE JOURNEY of JANET
Janet didn't want to be with the guy she was out with. He was good looking and well dressed, but as deep as a paper cut and just as painful to experience. It was high school grad night and they were at a night club, at a long table with a bunch of fellow students. Her date, Lenny, was a nice enough person but dull. He was the kind of guy who would send away for one of those drink containers that hang from your neck, and he did. He had soap-on-a-rope too. Hanging stuff around your neck was his idea of being hip, it seemed. He made his life style choices according to Playboy and his fashion decisions prompted by GQ. He spent more money on clothing than most of the female students did. Good dresser, but a monkey in silk is still a monkey.
Janet ended up on this date because she couldn't bear to turn anyone down. The next day she was asked to the graduation dance by someone she really liked. Oh how she wanted to break the date with Lenny, but she wasn't that kind of girl. She was seventeen. It was 1956. Lenny was eighteen and he was 1956.
Janet was an straight A student. She had won the Governor General's award that year. She wanted to be a writer. She was a quiet, rather shy person. She didn't laugh a lot. She only had one close friend. Her name was Naomi and she was very different than Janet. Naomi was outgoing and not a good student. Naomi loved to laugh and laughed a lot. Plain looking except for a beautiful smile. Janet tutored her often and did get her to graduate. Janet was pretty close to gorgeous. Long black hair, bright blue eyes, a figure that got a lot of attention when she walk down the hall between classes. She was self-conscious about her body and tended to hunch her shoulders over in an attempt to minimize her physical assets. She was uneasy in sexual situations and she only went as far as petting, once. She enjoyed it so much that she knew if she didn't put a stop to it right then, she would go all the way. She felt bad for the guy, but she brought an abrupt end to the necking and petting. Apologizing over and over. She wished she hadn't, when the story of their love making was all over the school the following Monday.
As was the fashion of the day, the high school grads brought their own booze to the night club and the club supplied the mix. Everyone was having a good time. Janet, with all her inhibitions didn't have a problem with drinking. It may have been because most of the writers that she admired were drinkers. And smokers, but she didn't smoke. The table was getting louder and Janet was getting a little tipsy. She was starting to have a good time and Lenny seemed less of a drag. They danced. Even close and she wasn't repelled. This pleased her, because she didn't want to make him feel bad by rebuffing him. There were a lot of digs and quips going on at the table and Janet had a number of laughs. For her this was pretty reckless. The guy that asked her out second and who she really liked was sitting across and four seats down from her. She caught him looking over at her a number of times. His name was Mark. He was with Lillian. A good looking bubbly type who was easy. Janet resolved to put Mark out of her mind so she would enjoy the night as much as she could.
After the night club the group decided to head out to the beach where one of the guys (his parent actually) had a big cottage. It was a warm late June night. The beach was about forty miles north of town. A cavalcade of over ten cars set out for the lake. About forty five minutes later they had parked their cars all over the lot and were jimmying the window to get into the cottage. Soon the records were playing and the kids were dancing and drinking and having a hell of a time. They had forgotten to pick up mix so they were drinking straight Scotch and Gin and Vodka and whatever. No ice either. The records changed from Presley and Fats Domino and The Crew Cuts to Sinatra and Dean Martin. The dances were slow now and couples were slipping into the different rooms of this large cottage. As Janet and Lenny were dancing Lenny asked, "Is it OK with you if we dance over to a room before they are all gone?"
Before she even thought, she said, "OK." They got one of the bedrooms at the back. The walls between the rooms didn't quite reach the ceiling and you could hear everything that was going on around you. Janet was drunk. Lenny, though he pretended to be a drinker, actually nursed his drinks and was almost completely sober. He was on her right away. A little bit rough and clumsy. Janet told him that she didn't like that and to cut it out.
"Just relax Lenny. Let's make this nice not like a wrestling match."
He did. They lied on the bed beside each other and started to make out. Janet, her judgment slightly impaired, was thinking that graduation time was a good time to lose her virginity. This Lenny guy wasn't so bad, and she was having such a good time. After many kisses and caresses their clothes were off. She had never been naked with anyone before. She had never had anyone kissing her breasts before. She had never rubbed someone's erection before. She had never let someone slip his fingers into her vagina before. She was in a new world and it felt wonderful.
Lenny started kissing her neck and slowly eased his kisses down to her shoulders, then her breasts, then her stomach, then her hips and finally right between her legs. Janet didn't know it, but he had never done this before. She started to tremble uncontrollably. She was tingling all over and a long low moan came from her throat as she had her first orgasm with another person. She wanted to do something for him and resolved to return the favour and treat herself to another first. She tugged his head away from her pussy and to her stomach where he resumed kissing her. Soon they were kissing mouth to mouth. Janet rolled him over on his back and started to kiss his chest and stomach. Lying her head on his stomach while anticipating what she was about to do. His arms that were around her shoulders became relaxed and slipped off. He started to breathe deeply and then he started to snore. He was out like a light.
Janet was amused by this and thought it was a perfect way to end the adventure. She soon drifted off with her head comfortably resting on his stomach.
When they awoke it was early the next morning and everyone was gone. They washed up and dressed and headed back home down the highway. They chatted pleasantly along the way and it didn't seem like Lenny felt anything more that a good friend of hers, which was a relief to Janet. Earlier she was panicking at the thought that he might want to start a relationship and was already running ideas over in her mind as to how she would dissuade him of that notion.
Just as the skyline of the city was coming into view, they saw it. They saw the horrible mangled wreckage of two cars on the side of the road surrounded by yellow tape and a wall of police cars with their red lights flashing. One of the cars was unfamiliar, the other was a white Triumph. Mark's car. Janet screamed. Lenny yelled, "Oh no!" They pulled over and went to talk to the police. The passenger of the unfamiliar car was taken to the hospital with internal injuries. Mark and Lillian were dead. |
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