Saturday, February 23, 2008

In the shadows of her young mind..,

Science Fiction words or a beginning, to a passage
Yellow brimming with life alive vibrant like a world where no pollutants existed teemed subsided dark centers in the orb a second semi circle a second world only dark reflections reflecting light amber sparks shadows jewel like yellow feldspar mineral citrine fire a citron
Sailor of Mine

Oh, onto the precipice she strays
Where again her heart has lead
She stands lingering watching
The plummeting sapphire waters
Tumbling down the emerald green cliff’s edge
Musing how crystal raindrops are falling
From verdant tender leaves,
She listens alone
In the ethereal forest below
She listens alone
At last to behold the promise of sunset
All the colors of the rainbow
Reflections on gossamer sails desirous to see
If only
She can almost hear the music
Of the rigging as the wind sings musical rhymes
As though playing wind chimes
In the theater of her young mind
Oh sailor of mine Elusive sailor
Forever a prisoner navigating
On the balmy waters waiting
A prisoner of the sands of time
Forever to remain her treasured memory
Science Fiction words or a beginning, to a passageYellow brimming with life alive vibrant like a world where no pollutants existed teemed subsided dark centers in the orb a second semi circle a second world only dark reflections reflecting light amber sparks shadows jewel like yellow feldspar mineral citrine fire a citron

Tied with a silver chain

Tied with a silver chain
About my olive skinned neck lies the silver released from Senora Atocha a parting gift, the small talisman is, leaving me bereft of the blue eyed Irish sailor man I so loved, the Gilead’s balm from our lovers spat, his parting words as I looked into his blue eyes orbs of wonder and delicate delight “I thought this would be an appropriate gift for you beautiful and yet tragic all in the same time" yes tragic is good for now.
Here yes we have Mel Fisher’s treasures legendary Spanish gold memories of sailor’s times and voyages so bold where now there are only the legends left to retell and many wondrous stories of old in seafaring taverns are now still being told. and retold
Alons!, only the small coin is silver hung from a ring looped about my chain this same silver made a silver bar, Mon Deau! If only she could but speak how did this legendary shipwreck occur?, Were there storms and tempests two points off her starboard bow? How detrimental this price that had to be paid for the treasures abounding there in the crystal blue seas. Silver oh shining silver! So are the clouds so lined in my misty foggy dreams. reminded I am of "Silver Seas" one of the commissions for an older powerboat. she lies at anchor at the south shore harbor marina. patiently she is waiting, tugging at her mooring lines like a frisky filly complacently bobbing in the soft silky waters, waiting for the chance to peruse the waters under the soft silver glimmer of an October moon. What perils or paradise she may encounter only the winds that blow her on her way shall know again yes

the Igor chronicles

The Igor chronicles

And now a Special bulletin from ibgign news telecasters

Spokesman “ Is Igor single?”

Mad scientist, “Why yes, glad that you asked. He is most definitely, or should be at this time, most indubitably single

Commentator “How did you meet Igor?”

Scientist that is most mad “He was rummaging through the pet store for a new leash”

Telecaster shrugging at microphone cord tangling relentlessly into his butterfly collar, “I see a leash, and does he have a favorite pet?”

Scientist, pensive, musing, staring after a moth fluttering innocently by, “The leash was for his alter ego”

Telecaster, Nonplussed, scuffing his shoe in the pea gravel at the Happy Buddha restaurant parking lot, “ Did you say the leash was for his, Alter Ego?”

Scientist, becoming more and more distracted by the yellow sulfur butterflies squabbling over a flower blossom, ” Quite, yes, I do believe he posses one or several of those” in the background there are noises and mutterings in the oriental languages.

There are sounds of the motor of a car grumbling along, then the distinct sound of tires meshing grinding and smashing a path through what could only be pea gravel.

Scratch; crackle, snap, wavy lines, transmission garbled. Silence, frustration, human growling.

Oh, there you are again, Sorry, I was just tuning in to a local broadcast. Everyone should dabble in the creative writing sense it really helps with the stress levels. Ok so I was working on a couple of characters for my creative writing journal Let me see here lets go with naming the newscaster Last name Corbin. Yepo thats really a handy dandy fix, good name actually
Oh and Author's note; Every man alive should see the "Goodbye Girl" movie just the last scene. The rooftop scene, it should really strike home. Richard Dreyfas is really a great actor. Movie circa 1985
I smuggled the zip drive in along with the other bric and brac smashed into the choc co kitty backpack. Word is around campus that the dreaded mid-terms will soon be upon us all. Igor, How will I ever survive this world. Maybe a Mel Brooks movie or something.
Lets get something off the jump drive, title that puppy and publish that bad boy