Ramblin' Hoosier

2007-07-19T12:55:00.000-04:00

She feels it, like an itch beneath the breast bone, slowly digging in and making it hard to breathe. The lights, though dim, are to bright on her tear swollen eyes, and she knows the sound of the hymns being piped softly into the drab room will drive her mad if the itching inside her does not.

To her right Aunt Lucinda is wailing like a banshee, and the large woman is heaving up the aisle of chairs towards her. The sight is making the feeling in her chest almost unbearable, and she tries to stand and hurry outside into the freedom of the sun, but a bony-gnarled hand reaches out and grabs her wrist before she can move.

Some ancient man, she's sure she's seen before,-probably in her childhood nightmares, is looking into her eyes and stroking her wrist with his frail fingers. He's telling her something, she can't make out the words that spill over his pink gums and fall from his sunken lips, but she knows it one of the five phrases she's heard repeated to no end this day. It seems no one can think of anything to say in the face of death.

She nods and gently pulls away from the mummified relative. Ahead of her is the door, and she races towards it feeling the itching in her throat now, threatining to choke her. Of all the places, and of all the times to have the giggles, she is horrified to find them taking over her here, at the funeral for her own father, but they are rasping the back fo her throat now, rushing toward her lips and tumbling just as she shoves through the door to the world outside. She collapses against the wall, overcome with the laughter that has no mirth, until they turn to lonely, angry sobs that bring her to her knees.

2007-07-03T09:41:00.000-04:00

They say you can't go home again..
but I never understood,
for if home is where the heart is,
how could you ever leave?
I feel it in my being,
carry each drafty room in my heart,
each hurt and healing comfort
have layed their foundations in my psyche.
So many faces reflect in the mirrors
of my mind and echo back through
the halls of my conciousness
awakening dusty memories
draped in cloth and hidden
in locked up rooms,
I don't fear not being able to return,
but dread eternally never leaving.

2007-06-29T13:11:00.000-04:00

Nothing the same, from yesterday to tomorrow, it all slips by and
I never had the time to grasp the first instant.

School yard romance meets reality

2005-05-05T16:09:00.000-05:00

Bubble gum wishes
and holding hands
lose to groping kisses
and one night stands
sweet first kisses-
soft as a breeze
become casual misses
with arrogant ease.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

2005-04-28T14:55:00.000-05:00

The trees are in full bloom and the fur is so soft to touch, soft as the tickle of whiskers on my cheek. I wish with all my might to be this kittens mother, but I'm not, and little brother is screaming that I won't share, I won't let him hold it. Big sister takes it from me, which is what she does best in the world and I mentally wish her into a scarecrow forever stuck in a moldy field being laughed at by the birds and giggled at by the nosy cows.

She coos sweetly in little brothers ear, stroking the kitty and breathing deep it's fresh from- mothers-milk-scent that still lingers on my clothes and in my nose. I want to reach out and pinch them both but sit in the nook of the joining brick walls, staring out of my shadow waiting until I can hold it again.

A car honks and I see daddy pulling up the drive in his big old loud car. Maybe I can get him to give me the kitten back and ha, won't that make big sister mad! He runs into the house and back out again shaking his head clutching the forgotten wallet in his hand and hurrying back to the car before all of the kids can spy him and keep him there with their questions and crying for him to stay and he misses all of his classes this day. I know better when I see him than to ask him for the kitten so keep my seat against the cool brick wall.

Little brother is poking his head through the window of the car, crying for daddy to take him with him. Daddy says no, little brothers aren't allowed to go to Mommy and Daddy schools, but that he should wait for him here where he can play with his pretty kitten and later won't they have fun together playing ball or maybe going down to the woods to play in the creek. Little brother begins to wail and clutch the door and big sister runs to help.

I sit in my corner and am scared that little brother will drop my baby kitten which he is holding loosely by one little paw. Big sister catches his hand and pulls him back away from the car so daddy can leave. Daddy smiles at her and I feel bad I have doomed her to a lifetime of watching over musty corn fields. He tells little brother as he begins to back the car down the drive that when they get home they will play, won't that be fun and little brother's wails turn to angry screams and they don't see until to late what I watch with horror from my cold little corner; my sweet little kitten hurling to the ground, hurling under daddy's big old heavy car and I can't think anymore over the sound that must be my scream at the sight of the delicate fur crushed and dirtied. I can't think over the sound of the painful noises that have replaced the little soft mewings coming from my little one.

Daddy's face is white like a sheet and big sister is standing frozen with little brothers hand in hers, crying. My teenaged awkward cousin runs up to help and they talk together in whispers.
Poor thing..nothing to do...vet's too far away..it's for the best..now..be quick.

I take back my bratty ways, I apologise to god that I cursed big sister and wanted to pinch little brother and all I want is for daddy to fix him; straighten the little back and legs and I wonder what they are doing going to the woods, is there some magic in the woods..in my fairy tree maybe, but no--I know even before I hear, what is going to happen and I learn that day, sitting in my cold corner looking into little brothers pouting unrepentent face, more lessons about life than I have in all the days since.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Evening conversations...

2005-04-10T17:06:00.000-05:00

"There is a bend there, just over the horizon, where eternity kisses yesterday and all the past is forgiven." He says between puffs of exhaled smoke, waving a work and tobacco stained finger down the road at the burning sun that is quickly sinking from view. His hand wearily rubs his tired eyes and she sits quietly, not speaking for fear of causing his words to dry up and fade back into himself.

It is at moments like this, when his long built fortress of quiet slips unannounced, that she can begin to know this person she loves with all her being who sits a mystery beside her. His hair catching the evening breeze, his eyes distant and looking at she knows not what. He utters words, somewhere between statement and hope she thinks looking at the longing glances he cast into his own memory.

"The hardest amends to make in this world are the ones we have to make with ourselves."
"Why?"
He looks down at her, half startled that she's there, as if he thought he were communing with no one but the night and the past. He smiles and puts his large warm hand on her knee for a moment before continuing on, "I dunno. Maybe it's because when you hold to a grief for so long, it becomes a part of who you are and to give it up, well, .." He shakes his head and is silent. She tries to make sense of his words, but is lost to the world of adults. All she knows is that she relishes this moment beside him- this moment of sharing even though she can see his pain below the surface.
She looks up again and finds his eyes, "Maybe you should remember who you were before you found your grief, then it might not be so hard."

He smiles again and hugs her. "Maybe I should darlin', maybe I should."

Ramblin' Hoosier~

A Lazy Philosophy on Life

2005-03-03T19:02:00.000-05:00

I love the ideal of life and love more than the reality of it.

I love to sit and dream of what might be if only, if only.....

I intoxicate myself on hope, all the while knowing I will wake in the morning hung-over and miserable, lying in a puddle of my own drab reality, unable or unwilling to make any changes.

My God! What sort of tumbled, jumbled, backwards fool am I? I see possibilities of the future, yet cannot take a step towards any of them. I balk at the alternate realities of my life tomorrow, all the while fantasizing what they could be.

I'm in a dull little world of my own making and am too cowardly and lazy to move away.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Pondering

2004-12-08T14:16:00.000-05:00

I was thankful once. Thankful for a God I knew reigned peaceful and wise above me,
letting the world below turn on on it's axis while leaving fate in the hands of man.
Now I know there cannot be a God of wisdom and peace that would entrust man with such power.
Man in control of his own personal destiny, in that I can see God.
Man in control of all humanity is a horror among horrors.

Me~

2004-11-29T13:56:00.000-05:00

Tree in the wind

She bends
graceful limbs twisting
against the wind
first feeling, then grasping
for a merciful hold
in the night.
like a thief
the wind takes her life,
howling, it
swallows up
the sound of her breaking,
stealing her very last.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

War Games

2004-11-22T17:51:00.000-05:00

He rampages blindly
A stoic veteran of too many hurts
He weilds words without flaw or mercy
Verbal battles into the dawn
blows that break and crush
loving compassion
dislodging once held idols
from their thrones
chasing ardous feelings
from the shadows
screaming for a place to hide
from rampaging love

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Halloween

2004-10-28T15:07:00.000-05:00

The leaves crakle underfoot, and float through the air with each kicking step. The air smells of earth, leaves and Autumn air. The wind blows chill, but refreshing air over makeup covered brows and whistles through the newly bared black branches overhead. The New moon hangs heavy behind dull silver clouds that stretch thick fingers across the sky and mimic the cobwebs hanging from the porches with there glittering jack-o-lantern faces.

All around groups of children run, free for one night to become slightly wild and big sister pulls little sisters hand and drags her up the steps. Mother and father laugh, and little sister doesn't mind the assualt once the woman appears with the bowl brimming with treats. She doesn't even mind at this moment that big sister will sneak into her room when she sleeps and steal the best candies, which little sister knows now from experience.

A dog barks and bares it's teeth, and little sister cries. Big sister puts a rare, and comforting arm around her shoulder, and hurries them down the steps to the next porch, with the next glittering jack-o-lantern face. A man jumps out from behind a cardboard tombstone and screams Boo! Little sister jumps. Another house, and another. Hazy blue light dances around a smoky porch and ghosts brush their two small shoulders. A great stretching line of lighted porches, and glowing pumpkin eyes reach ahead of them.

Mother and father laugh and pull them homeward. Unwillingly they follow, already dipping into their bags when the parents look away. Big sister trips and little sister snickers through a mouth full of candy bar. Is there any better night than this?

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Prozac please.

2004-10-06T18:31:00.000-05:00

Softly, the ache stirs,
down, down in the depths.
lonliness bubbles and breaks
then once again flees
leaving wastelands
of terrible glee.
Fierce smiling faces,
cold, distant eyes.
While the heartbeat, it races
and the world's but a lie.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Reality

2004-09-30T19:15:00.000-05:00

Commanding consciousness,
always seizing control of my spirit;
wresting the reign of my soul.
Cold and thoughtless logic,
pilots my course without empathy, sympathy or regret.
Memory marches idly by,
false in it's remembering,
lost to frustrated fantasy,
crippled by unrelenting reality.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Wants and Needs...poem

2004-08-09T15:50:00.000-05:00

A lowly indigent-
needing nothing,
yet filled with want
only for a breath of your soul.
I need not possess it;
indeed I do not want
to own the whole
I see no need to become as one,
for the one I love
would no longer be
and without that breath
I could not breathe
to fulfill that single want
there could be none richer
then I would be.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Silent Seduction.....a short story

2004-08-08T20:19:00.000-05:00

She looks lovely sitting by the pane glass window, afternoon sunlight falling on her shoulder and lighting the side of her thin face. On the table before her is a faded and ragged paperback, and a large cup of some fifteen-syllable-$6.00 coffee only to be found in quaint out of the way shops like this or on any corner at the local Starbucks. Dreamily, she looks up from her book and stares out the window, a distant look in her eye.

Outside traffic flows unnoticed by her hazy blue gaze, and from the bar the man watches enchanted. For hours he thinks of ways to approach, worries over lame lines and public rejection. Twice now, he has summoned the waitor over ready to order her another coffee sent with his regards, but at the last moment it sounds tacky to him and he orders another black coffee for himself instead.

She lowers her eyes to her book again, a small secret smile just visible on her lips faint as a whispered secret. He is hypnotised by that smile and lost to fantasies of it's origins, inserting himself in each. He rises and sits at a table a little closer, hoping to draw her eye. She remains lost in her book, and his mind cajoles him for not going over to her.

He stands. For a moment that seems to draw on forever his feet refuse to move as suddnly the thought that this could very well be the one, his soul mate, fills his mind and all he can think of is ruining it before it starts and the terrible lonliness his life will be if he does. With unsteady steps, his feet finally lurch forward, bring him closer to the object of his new found fervent passion and dreams. She stirs slightly as he nears, and lifts her eyes to his for a moment. That secret smile flashes again, a ghostly trace and then is gone. His heart pounds joyously in his chest and he glides on oblivious to anything that can go wrong, that look, that single glance would be enough to give courage to the most frightened heart! He turns to ask her name and is startled to see her through the window of the store. In his excitment he's walked right passed her and into the summer sun.

With a dejected spirit he turns and walks toward home mourning the one that could have been.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Constellation of dreams

2004-08-04T21:03:00.000-05:00

Softly, the pale moon glows
stars faint, then quickly blaze.
Dazzling meteor shows-
vanish in a milky haze
Passionate dreams ignite,
fill my slumbering gaze,
sights far lovelier then night-
lovely as newborn golden days.

Religion of You

2004-08-02T19:31:00.000-05:00

I abandoned to you my soul,
My life, my pride, my dreams
Surrendered to you the whole,
Asked of you not a thing.

My idol of tarnished gold,
Your power is growing thin,
There on your crumbling throne,
My love for you is my sin.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Ballet of Beauty.....poem

2004-07-26T14:16:00.000-05:00

Ballet of Beauty

Radiant in pink.
Satin curls, that gleam
In streams of gold
Are tossed, like so many wishes
Over shoulders of bisque
The creamy white of milk.
Sapphire illuminations
Light your cast aside glance
As you preen and pirouette
Prance on point
A dreamlike dance.
Laughter like lilting lullaby's
Shiver in silver streams
Flowing through dreams of joy
From which you spring
Heavenly little dancer
Who laces love with light
And shines bright as life
Dance eternal,Little dream.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

A Cheater's tale...short story

2004-07-22T15:22:00.000-05:00

A pigeon coos and beats it's wings against the windowpane. It's talons grab for purchase, scratching the sill and the noise almost hides the soft sounds of it's young calling from a foot away. She pours a cup of coffee and tries half-heartedly to shoo the mother bird away.
"They cause disease, you know." She says, and he isn't sure to whom she's speaking, him or herself.

When she waves her hand toward the window the belt of her robe comes untied and opens on her old faded plaid pajamas. The bottom button of the shirt is missing and he catches occasional flashes of her belly button when she moves.

Suddenly, he wants nothing more from life than to kiss it. To feel the silky skin on his lips, to have her heartbeat dance beneath his roving fingertips.

A sharp pain shoots through his mind, and trickles painful fire through his chest. He knows the feeling well, has felt it more and more frequently these last few weeks, especially when looking at her as he is now.

She's running a tired hand through her sleep mussed hair, auburn sparks catching the morning sunrays and his eyes burn to look upon it. One hand casually wipes the sleep from her eyes, and she turns to him; smiling.

Oh god, she looks so much like the first time they woke together, even after all these years and he feels the familiar pull of her in his heart. An unwelcome, unwanted image fills his mind. An image of another mans lips pressed to the slight swell of her abdomen, someone else's fingers tracing the rhythm of her heart. For the briefest moment the guilt that burns in his gut is overshadowed by the rage the image provokes and he can't believe how he has let things crumble to this lonely state. How could he ever have thought to touch another, especially one so below the one before him; the one he loves.

She laughs and he looks up into her eyes. "If only I had a penny for your thoughts just now," she says, "you had the strangest look in your eyes, like tortured bliss."

He smiles weakly and quickly kisses her goodbye, head spinning in guilt and shame as he heads to work.

She watches from the window, tired and trying hard to reconcile her love for him with the newly growing hate and pain.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Bitch about time....

2004-07-22T12:57:00.000-05:00

Hurtling toward infinity
Moments rush by
Melding memories
with dreams
blurring realities' seams.

A casualty of eternity
my life is on the fly
victim of destiny
who flees
but knows not why.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Moon bright

2004-07-21T19:35:00.000-05:00

Blushing crimson moon,
high in a cobalt sky..
embedded in a silver stain-
spilled liquid diamonds,
long since dried
upon my window pane.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

The Promise

2004-06-14T19:41:00.000-05:00

The Promise

She sits, limbs stretched lazily before her, looking up through the wind tossed branches overhead. The light of the noon sun shifts everchanging patterns of light and dark shadow across the bridge of her freckled nose, and she closes her eyes enjoying the play of red and black on her eyelids. The smell of spring grass blossoms around her, comingled with rich soil and the wet earthy scent of the stream below.
She looks down toward the water and watches two tow headed boys attempting to fish in the shallow currents, and laughs enternally at distant memories of sunny spring days beside slow moving streams. The breeze picks up and blows fluffy white dandelion seeds in her hair, and before her eyes. Distant floral perfumes dance along the breeze and fill the day with their splendor. A dog barks from afar, and birds chatter from the trees. A mother passes on the bike trail, pushing a stroller with a chubby red faced toddler inside. One pink socked foot kicks steadily back and forth and has lost it's small red shoe. A sticky sucker is clutched tightly in the childs hand and a fat stray curl is plastered to the side of her small red face by sweat. The baby smiles and waves, and is gone.
She looks longingly after the little family of two, and than expectantly at the horizon to the North. Soon he will make his way over the sloping hill and return to her. Soon, his smiling eyes and lazy smile will be all she sees as he finally arrives.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

Lightning Bug--short story

2004-06-14T19:39:00.000-05:00

The lightning found the center of the old Oak in the yard, splitting it nearly in two. Twisted, charred pieces of timber fan out around it like a hula skirt, and smoke still rises from within. There is a deep black crater just visible from the house, lying where the roots once layed, and we run out to take a closer look.

The surface of the tree is strangely both cool and hot to the touch. The rain has fallen unrelentingly since dawn and everything in sight is heavy with the moisture. The limbs sag forlornly, carrying fresh green leaves dripping fat drops of water on our heads. There's a noise coming from the depths of the blackened 0ak and we stop, suddenly aware it could fall. We listen intently, soft mews are coming from the woody remains, barely audible. It sounds like the cry of a small animal, but somehow human. Slowly we go forward and look into the splayed timber.

Our breath catches and we gasp in wonder at the beautiful silver flower growing from the dark sooty mud in the oaks burnt embrace. It is untouched and undirtied. A perfect flower, unlike any we've ever seen. We shift a piece of wood and a ray of bright, after shower sunlight gleams down on the silver bud. It burst into bloom, petals peeling slowly open, and in the center, sitting perched in a bed of golden pollen, is a tiny silver girl. She stands and unfurls silver wings that flutter in the breeze. I bend down and peer, astounded, at the tiny figure. She stretches and yawns and I know what the mewing sound must have been. She turns and sees me. Her diminutive features transform into a mask of shock, than slowly impatience. She puts her small hands to her hips and looks into my eyes. "What? You've never seen the birth of a lightning bug before?"

She flaps her wings and hops from the flower, disappearing into a cloud of shining dust and tinkling laughter.

Ramblin' Hoosier~

The Clock-- a short story

2004-06-14T19:37:00.000-05:00

The Clock

The ticking clock assualts his ears as he sits waiting, always waiting. The path of his constantly roaming toe is clearly visible in the faded green carpet, physical witness to his seemingly endless vigilance outside the thick oak door. A steady muted hum carries through the hall from some appliance downstairs, and he tries to capture it in his ears to drown out the ticking clock. It doesn't work.

He's sat in this same chair, in this same hall, every afternoon and evening for the past three months, always waiting for the moment to arrive, always taunted by the passing time lauded over him by the ticks and chimes of the old Grandfather to his left. He jerks his head from his hands, and peers at the closed door again. His hands clench in a sweaty grasp and he raises weakly from the chair. He pauses, suspended between sitting and standing, and sits heavily back down, head weakly crumpling back to his waiting hands.

The clock ticks steadily on and the day is falling into night, and the moment has again eluded them. He peers to his right through the darkened window at the end of the hall, and his conscience struggles against his cowardice. It screams for him to rise and enter the room before it's to late,before she's gone. He wants nothing more than to see her, to hold her frail body to his breast and ease the pain, and comfort the heart that so comforted his own, but his weakness wins, and he sits, and waits, and the clock continues to tick away the moments of a life that meant so much. A life that meant so much, that he cannot bear to see it slip away, and he hates himself for it, and he hates the fates for making him such a coward through their theft of life.
And he sits and waits, the clock ticking away the day.

I am not a happy camper over this.

2004-06-13T17:30:00.000-05:00

Geez, where in the heck could anyone draw the conclusion that the books were cooked for political gain? :-0 Hmm, the report says terrorism is on the decline when in fact it's increased. Hmm, the main strength of the Bush Administration is it's "ability and strength" in the war against terror. Nope, I don't see a thing suspicious about it at all.iWon News