Saturday, March 13, 2010

Magpie Five

“Nominated for the Tangled Field Poetry Award in 1952.” A newspaper cutting lay on the bed between the poet and her visitor. “You see, I was known, I was read, I was writing, I simply was...well, more than this.” Edie shook her turbaned head and took a drag on a long pearl holder burning a small cigarette. She exhaled, tonguing the smoke as it curled out her nostrils. Edith laughed at the memory, triggering a phlegmy cough and self-consciously waving away the offer of tissue from her visitor.

“This is... this is my addiction.” Edie grimaces a small smile. “Always Mother chided me. Smoking will kill you Edith, she said that every time I had a cigarette. Smoking will kill you. Well, what won’t kill you! We all will get killed eventually, some of us are lucky enough to die naturally, at the whim of our own organs...they simply shut down, can’t do their job anymore, so it’s finito! The unlucky ones are the ones who are killed by other people's organs. Imagine having a brain that tells you to kill someone, how hideous that must be... or driving a car as your own brain is seized by a stroke -- a brain desperately trying to shut you down -- and in your disruption you drive into Mrs. Spencer, your neighbor, and squash her flat. Mrs. Spencer’s organs must have risen in bloody revolt at that interference with their genetic plans.” Edie closes her eyes for a brief time, her cigarette burning a blue tail twisting to the ceiling. “We are all programmed for death, and but for our interfering neighbors, we could easily fulfill our own destiny. I used to tell Mother, my organs better kill me before they kill someone else!”

Edie took another drag and let the smoke slowly curl up out of her mouth as she simultaneously inhaled through her nose, her breath spinning like a sensuous blue Ferris wheel. “I just told Mother... Mother, you must understand, I am simply bad. I have smoked since I was in diapers, I have done everything wrong but the Lord just doesn’t want me up there yet.”

Edie crushed the cigarette out in the palm of a carved wooden hand she used for an ashtray. “Mother was killed by our neighbor, Mrs. Spencer, who had a stroke driving home from the doctor.” Edie reaches up and twists her turban tighter around her head, self-consciously tucking in non-existent hair and for a moment, watches the drip of the IV into her arm.

Tuesday, March 09, 2010


What risks did you take today? Where did you push the envelope? I pushed, a big, huge, envelope, called "you just can't do that!!!!" This societal mantra was embedded in my brain very young; my generation of Catholic girls born in the 60's was singled out by the Vatican for in depth guilt trips necessitated, obviously, by our original sin. Ha, I would love to see Sister William's face (my first grade teacher) after taking a look at these:)


Channel Five News at Five O’Five:
Dan Scout and Teresa Terse Reporting:

Dan (grinning like a baboon): Good Evening and Good 505! Dan Scout and Teresa Terse for the 505 team!

Teresa (left eyeball rotated slightly to the right and also grinning): Thanks Dan, and a good evening to our 505 team...don’t be shy, wave everyone! (As the cameras move up and down in semblance of a camera wave, the news anchors heads are chopped off repeatedly.)

Dan (gesticulating the quotation marks): We have “breaking news” tonight that elephant enthusiasts have discovered an ancient elephant carving, whose, or should I say “its” “nose” “honker” “proboscis” “ sewer smeller” “double barreled shit detector” “pneumatic peanut picker” “nostrilian thrombosis”...

Teresa (reaching over and grabbing Dan’s double barreled shit detector, twisting it, while smiling into camera front): Yes Dan, you are so right, but as usual, so sadly miss-spoken. As most of our viewers know, Ivory is an animal product, grown by elephants in Africa and Asia in biologic formations commonly known as Tusks. Not to be confused with the really bad Album by Fleetwood Mac. Some cultures believe ivory has medicinal value, most illogically the belief that ivory powder ingested orally can induce thrombastic erections and/or grow hair where you want it to sprout...

Teresa’s monologue is interrupted by Dan noisily picking up his dropped prompter sheets, shuffling and stacking them together, and as she gives him the evil eye, Dan jumps in: Oh, so sorry TERSE.eeeesa...Back to the news, for those you who do not understand large carved ivory elements, this is a primer: The carved object you see before you is not, as commonly thought, an example of Scrimshaw. This specimen is in fact an early tool of early things, named a Screwshaw. A Screwshaw was an early prototype screwdriver from ancient history populated by literal beings, where screws, aka nails with ridges, were pounded into the object instead of being twisted, hence the linear engraving on the early Screwshaw example posed above, which as you can see, has no conical elements. In contrast, Scrimshaw consists of drawings done by really bored sailors on pieces of whale bones, the dirty and routine work being relieved somewhat by dancing the hornpipe or keel-hauling a drunken sailor. The extreme boredom led sailors to engage in the risky dance of the hornpipe, which depending upon the lilt of the deck and the direction of the wind, blew some of them young laddies into the briny brink. Binge drinking was also high on the list of favored past times and spewing competitions were frequent albeit messy.....

Teresa has had enough, takes her shoe off and whacks Dan about the head, and as he cowers, arms flailing to fend her off, the camera crew signal their assent by moving the cameras up and down.
Stay tuned for the news at 10:05.

Thursday, March 04, 2010


She is traditionally bewildered, but more importantly, modernly bedecked and bedazzled! One of my favorite books is Alice in Wonderland and Disney is coming out with a new movie with a goth twist, directed by Tim Burton. My favorite Tim Burton movie is James and the Giant Peach, except it wasn't directed by Tim Burton, or even remotely connected to Tim Burton, but is the Best Tim Burton type movie I have seen. Kinda like my life right now: I have fallen down a rabbit hole of my own petard and must hoist up the flag, so to speak. But I regress, my favorite character is the Mixed Metaphor, and back to the trouble at hand, as I was saying, most importantly, Disney commissioned Tom Binns to create jewerly to market with the release of the movie and I am getting my piece tomorrow! Ta DA! Over there>>>>>>>>>>>>[arrow arrow]

Don't think I even had a clue who Tom Binns was before this rather affordable line came out, but now I want them all. Check some of them out at this link that I am too tired, dumb, and/or old to figure out how to do the linky thingy, so I would suggest googling Tom Binns Alice Jewerly Give It To Me Now, or TBAJGITMN for the shortcut, I am sure Google is all over this trend as we are making history together as we blog drool.

Wednesday, March 03, 2010


Say, say, playmate, won't you come play with me....Jackie O (the dog) and Jake Blues (the cat) in the garden.

Remember the days when play was a vocation? What did you do today was a question answered by lists of games, friends and sugar treats. When did it all get so serious. When did riding a bike become exercise? When did eating a cupcake become death by a thousand calories? Do yourself a favor and carve out some playtime today --- TAG --you're it!

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

This is my post for Magpie Tales. Being new to blogging, I have no clue how to do links so hopefully some of you will find me.


He waits for me in the silvering night

where plumey lilacs dress the breeze

and tiny daisies blanket the leas

Underneath the sentinel stone

beyond the fallen tower

No sound he makes, yet sure he calls

and I no anwer give at all

Yet still he waits for me

Underneath the sentinel stone

beyond the fallen tower

One day I shall join him there

lain to rest one morning fair

and together wait in the silvering night

Underneath the sentinel stone

beyond the fallen tower