“Sometimes what is in front of you and what you are seeing isn’t really so. It can, in fact, be quite deceptive.” ―Ella Frank, Blind Obsession
Summertime and the livin’ was easy playing all day, homework far behind my daddy was handsome, mama good lookin’ idyllic days they were… just a lie So, hush, little baby, baby, don’t you cry
Shirley’s uncle was a devil in disguise Crazy Selma in the attic, dirty laundry must hide the deacon’s wife bruised again, always fallin’, So, hush, little baby, baby, don’t you cry baby, don’t you cry
process notes: It is hard to have your childhood illusions shattered. At that time, life was easy for me and so I thought everyone had it easy. In my day, people kept secrets and ugly things away from the kids, sheltered them. But when I got older, and the secrets came to light it was shattering and left distrust planted in my heart.
In life in ink rebel be a rebel think it through two-sides have everything even a piece of paper. Turn it over fold it make it into a fan to cool the discussion You are right I am right but somewhere we must find a compromise that doesn’t compromise the truth.
Everything fades with time like the bright red curtains in the window now bleached to a dull, dingy rose by harsh afternoon sun, here it comes.
Even the memory of you is dry-rotted fragile, droopy. I can’t remember your voice, your touch. Your kiss. Your scent. My body has wholly forgotten you.
And here comes the sun, here comes the sun, Sun, sun, sun, here it comes Sun, sun, sun, here it comes And I say it’s alright.
twiglets “steel sky” A twiglet’s aim is to “prompt” a thought.
We had a thunder storm last night and a steel sky this morning that swirled down the mountains and steamed up from the ground in a gauzy veil that erased the world to shades of grey solitude. I felt a song or maybe a nursery rhyme coming on…
Steel drums are rum bling the sky is falling down the mist rushes up the mist rushes down the misty mist is tum bling, a maelstrom fum bling around and around and around…
Poets and Storytellers United Posted by Rosemary Nissen-Wade Your mission for today, should you choose to accept it, is to be inspired by a favourite book or books – to describe it/them, and/or the effect on you; or to retell the story; or to invent a sequel, a prequel or an alternate ending; or to attempt something in that style; or to let it lead you in some other new direction of your own.
This gem of a book made me feel that life is wonderful despite its imperfections, or maybe because of its imperfections. It is made up of three short stories: A Christmas Memory, One Christmas, and The Thanksgiving Visitor are little slices of Truman Capote’s young life growing up in Alabama with relatives of his mother’s. Each story reveals the pain and hurt of a young boy who must have felt abandoned but is also a love story about his sweet, innocent, wise, childlike cousin Sook.
In A Christmas Memory we meet Sook, Truman’s distance cousin and best friend though he was seven and she sixty-something. She called him, Buddy “in memory of a boy who was formerly her best friend. The other Buddy died in the 1880’s, when she was still a young child. She is still a young child.” Every November she and Buddy make fruitcakes. They give a few to friends but the bulk go to people they never met, or maybe met once or who “just struck our fancy”, like President Roosevelt or a married couple, missionaries to Borneo or “Abner Packer, the driver of the six o’clock bus.” Truman writes of Sook so sweetly and lovingly that you wish with all your heart you’d had a Sook in your own young life.
In One Christmas Truman travels by bus to spend Christmas in New Orleans with his father. He cried and proclaimed that he didn’t want to go. He didn’t know his father very well, had not traveled from his home in Alabama, had never gone to sleep without Sook running her fingers through his hair and just how would he be able to go to sleep without Sook to kiss him goodnight? But go he does, and the result is a bittersweet portrait of a father/son relationship that never had a chance.
And finally, in The Thanksgiving Visitor, Truman tells about an older boy who is a bully, liar and thief, that makes his and others’ lives miserable. Sook teaches Buddy a valuable lesson in goodness of the soul, cruelty, revenge, and looking beyond others action to see what is inside. She explains, “There’s just one thing I want to say, Buddy. Two wrongs never make a right and there is only one unpardonable sin – deliberate cruelty.” Which isn’t really just one thing but that’s okay.
Childhood memories Hurts, slights, beauty, awareness Heart of becoming
In that great cauldron of a sky the sun boils and burbles like a thick porridge. I think of Goldilocks dipping her spoon into its dense sludgy matter, taking too quick a bite and proclaiming “Too hot!” or maybe Oliver Twist’s piteous “Please, sir, I want some more.” Sol being indifference just shrugs “Beggars can’t be choosers.” And he and Goldie go away, hand in hand, to lament their bad luck.
The butterflies we may never see again in Britain – BBC News A report by Butterfly Conservation warns that 24 of 58 species may soon disappear from our shores. Five more species are threatened with dying out than when the charity last compiled a Red List, 11 years ago.
Autumn of the Soul 