Three

(Note: This is probably a crap poem, and I expect it won't convey all that I felt when I was having the dream that it describes. I think that three is probably always a crowd, in waking life. What I do know is that for a few minutes, while I was asleep, I was happy from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes.)

Did you ever see that show
That corny episode
Where astronauts land somewhere and
It's almost like home
And they're not alone?

Last night I dreamed
That I was unironically seventeen
Not old, not fat
Imagine that
And had hair that fell
Right down to my happy ass.

My blonde friend
Could finish things I said
Just like she could read my mind
And when we slept together the one time
Because we were curious and close
We were each other's mirror in the night.

When she found a guy
I won't lie, I thought it was the end
Of the thing that kept us connected
But he was funny and sweet
Swept us both off our feet
And made us feel easy and protected.

First he turned to her
Then he turned to me
It never felt like a crowd, just us living out loud
We circled and burned
A little constellation of three.

I remember someone said
That every star we see is dead
It's just that light takes so long to travel through the darkness
I looked up and saw
Then woke up and it was gone.

Did you ever see that show
That corny episode
Where someone lands in luck from out of the blue?
It's just a made-up fake
Interrupted by commercial break
And only fools and children think it's true.

______



  

and...

An Interview With Lady Death

I recently had the opportunity to sit down with Lady Death over fraps at Danny's Coffee Shop. Here is the interview!

Shay Caroline: Thank you so much for agreeing to this. Did you have any trouble finding Danny's?

Lady Death: No, I Mapquested it, so getting here was no problem. But...

SC: Yes?

LD: Well, when I tried to find a place to park, all the meters were expired. 

SC: I hate when that happens.

LD: I know, right?

SC: So, other than the meters, what do you think of our little town?

LD: To be honest, honey, it's pretty dead here on a Sunday night.

SC: You're killing me.

LD: It's what I do!

SC: So...have you always been Lady Death? Or did you have other jobs before this one?

LD: I did stand up comedy for a while.

SC: Oh really? And how did that go?

LD: I died out there.

SC: Of course you did. Anything else?

LD: I worked as a gardener.

SC: How long did you do that?

LD: Not long. I had a black thumb. But as you can see, I found a way to make it work for me.

SC: You go, girl. 

LD: Thanks.

SC: Where did all this happen? Where is Lady Death from, originally?

LD: This may surprise your readers, but I am from a rural area just outside of West Branch, Michigan.

SC: Well now, that is surprising. You look so put together, I would have thought you were a big city girl.

LD: Nope.

SC: Do you still have a home there?

LD: No, I don't. There was a developer who had plans for building a retirement community with a big eighteen hole golf course. He bought the farm.

SC: I think a lot of people picture Death as a scary figure wearing a black hood and carrying a scythe, not as a stylish woman wearing an Ann Taylor suit and heels.

LD: Do you like the look?

SC: Yes, very much. The heels, especially, are TDF.

LD: I saw them and they took my breath away. I had to have them.

SC: Your hair looks fantastic, too. Is that your natural shade?

LD: No. I dyed.

SC: Wow, it looks great. You must get noticed a lot.  Are you in a relationship?

LD: I was.

SC: That doesn't sound good. Can you share?

LD: Sure. It started out beautifully. He told me that, when he first saw me, his heart actually skipped a beat. Several beats, in fact.

SC: That sounds exciting! What went wrong?

LD: The feelings died.

SC: If I had to guess, I'd say that this has happened to you before.

LD: It has. But why dig up the past?

SC: Fair enough. So, if you're not out painting the town, what does Lady Death do when she isn't working?

LD: I'm a movie buff.

SC: Really? That's interesting! 

LD: Yes, I watch upwards of a dozen movies a week.

SC: How do you find time to watch so many?

LD: Well...I sort of cheat. I only like to watch the endings.

SC: It's been lovely spending this time with you, Lady Death. 

LD: Are we done?

SC: We are. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I've got a deadline.

LD: Touche, Shay.

SC: I thought you'd like that!


_______ 


And, in totally unrelated news, just because it's my blog and I can...

Let's Dance!

Some total silliness to liven up your Friday...

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun!

Here's a cute video that I keep coming back to. Maybe you'll enjoy it, too. It's made from clips of old black and white movies, and has a very catchy song by the Corrs to go with it.

Musical Interlude

Anna Ternheim sings "(In Other Words) Fly Me To The Moon." 



  
Note: the song is less than four minutes long, despite what it says. 

I Ruff You!

Mishka can say "I love you!"



And she can say Nooooooo!





Ha!

Silents, Please

It might seem strange for a gal who is all about words to have a fascination for the old silent era actresses. But I do, I love them. 

After all, what were they? They were storytellers. They came to a brand new medium, usually from difficult backgrounds, and made it their own. Because the "flickers" were new, there were no traditions, no rules, no customs set in stone. It was wide open and nobody knew just how it ought to be done. 

At first, all the shots were long, as if seen by an audience sitting in a theater. After all, so many of the people making early motion pictures came from vaudeville backgrounds. But when the camera came close, that was when these women cut loose and made moviegoers fall in love with them.

In a silent medium, it did no good to be subtle. The expressions, the gestures, the emotions, were all big and bold. I love that! Further, the movies were seen as hopelessly low brow in the early days, and so the story lines tended to be populist and sentimental. Fine with me!

Of course, it hardly even needs saying that these gals were beautiful, and I think their old-timey dresses, hats and hair are all as charming as the day is long. But don't be fooled. These were some tough cookies. Mary Pickford was a shrewd businesswoman, and it was Mabel Normand who fought to get a second chance for first-time fizzler Charlie Chaplin.

So, I love them. Maybe you will, too. Enjoy the video!
___ 

Mercy Me/ Gibsom Street

Two videos I thought were really good. From the global,

HERE  (sorry, I couldn't embed it)

To the personal...



Happy Sunday.

The Fall of Ra

The sun god Ra lives quietly on a pension
In a bungalow in Redford, Michigan.
He makes some Sanka,
And begins to reminisce again... 

"I was big in the land of the burning sand,"
He announces to the cat.
"A deity of some distinction!" Then he waves a hand.
"But you wouldn't remember that." 

Egyptians are in short supply
On pretty East Blackberry Drive.
Ra wears crocs and takes the paper,
Saving the crossword puzzle for later.

A tin sun blazes, never sinking lower,
On the side of the shed where he keeps his mower.
Once, he sneered as pharaohs bowed,
But all that is gone--
"Hey you kids! Off my lawn!"
(He says through the window, and not very loud.)

__________

for Magpie 76

Smooth

It was so hot there were lions by the roadside--
Floating like dust clouds into town,
Tongues lolling.

Your hair was smooth and Indian dark--
Goddess love a flat iron,
And the highway heading north.

In the fierce heat of afternoon we stopped for coffee ice--
Yours pressed cold against my neck,
Sweating wet, nice.

John Law stopped us just past the interchange,
And the lions gave him their golden-eyed look
As he flipped open his book...

You had your sunglasses on your hair in case Heaven should appear,
And charmed that man like a gypsy thief
With God's love stashed beneath our seats.

Smooth, lover,
Like the August sun going down,
Like your summer-browned thighs, lionesses side by side,
Like the day behind us nearly gone and the
Road into the headlight night, toward home.

(for STWIASD, who loves a road trip)
_______

By Popular Demand...

My poetry workshop seems to have been commandeered by low brows who want to hear vulgar music and dance. Well, all right!

The Paths of Glory...

Neil Alexander's photograph, above, got me thinking about a subject I have always found fascinating, that being the now-departed days of the British Empire. I don't have a poem to share (though there is a poem in the first clip), but here are these two videos (I couldn't find them together) from the end of the Australian movie "Breaker Morant." It is about the sacrifice of two soldiers on trumped-up charges of war crimes. It was done in order to open the door to negotiations for an end to the Boer War. It sounds dry, but it isn't.  --FB




_______



for One Shoot Sunday

Rocker Chick

I don't have a new poem to post, so I'm posting this video which I think is from Austin City Limits. It's Emmylou singing a medley of old rock n roll tunes. I'm definitely lovin' the hand on the hip and the growl! (I swiped the vid from the fine 365 Days Of Emmylou Harris blog). Now it's here, cos it's my blog and i can. *sticks out tongue*

Song

Where does the night come from?

It is brought by birds, blue and black at the tip of every wing.

How is desire undone?

By lying still and silent at the bottom of the stream.



When do you best love your darling's dark hair? 

In the early mist of morning and every seventh spring. 

When do you most adore your darling's dark heart? 

I'll score the answer on your bones if you dare to ask again.


______

Musical Interlude

This is:

1. Pete Townsend in his dotage

2. Charo after running out of Neet

3. Slash without the hat

4. Sasquatch

???????

_______

My Baby Needs A Shepherd

I love this song by Emmylou Harris. The first time I heard it, I cried.

Make It Go Away...

...or make it better. Things are not going very well right now in Shay World. Every time I put out one fire, three more seem to spring up, and I'm tired so tired.  :***-(

Tennessee Bird Walk

You know me, darlings, always raising the culture bar here at Word Garden. I hope you will enjoy this fine musical entertainment with art created by kids!

Ballad Of A Runaway Horse

My poems will be back soon...I can feel them coming. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this song, written by Leonard Cohen and sung by Emmylou Harris.

PS--I start my new mail route today. Wish me luck!

Mean Kitty

This video is 3 years old, but still a big favorite of mine. I haven't got any new poems, so maybe you'll enjoy Sparta instead. :-)