As Time Grows Old

I have wept for some doors that have been shut.

For the remembrance of circling crows, the slightly ajar iron gates that house the long ago, dead.

For the remembrance of four legged siblings…true to themselves and unabashed. I relive their memory…everyday.

Oh, the wonder years, living among loose chickens and lazy llamas.

The dead end dirty and dusky roads that had lay before me.

Those lanes with promise of green, glistering, fields.

I have wept for the Shakers, the dance, the waves of neighbors passing, as time grows old.

Love Letters by Zelda

There’s nothing in all the world I want but you and your precious love. All the material things are nothing. I’d just hate to live a sordid, colorless existence because you’d soon love me less and less and I’d do anything — anything — to keep your heart for my own. I don’t want to live—I want to love first, and live incidentally… Don’t—don’t ever think of the things you can’t give me. You’ve trusted me with the dearest heart of all—and it’s so damn much more than anybody else in all the world has ever had. From Zelda Fitzgerald to F. Scott Fitzgerald

Perhaps, Zelda could be best understood as…misdiagnosed with schizophrenia. When it is obvious she suffered from neglect and abuse. Even further than the lackadaisical diagnosis…is the belief that F.Scott Fitzgerald stole much of Zelda’s writings to further his own career! Both intrusions only hindered what the world could have benefited from her talents.

Zelda Fitzgerald was an icon of the Roaring Twenties. A socialite, painter, novelist, and the wife of American author F. Scott Fitzgerald, Zelda Fitzgerald’s audacious spirit captivated those around her and she was a muse for much of her husband’s literary work. Their famously turbulent marriage was fraught with alcoholism, violence, financial ups and downs, and Zelda’s battle with mental health issues. Her own artistic endeavors include a semi-autobiographical novel, Save Me the Waltz, a play entitled Scandalabra, as well as numerous magazine articles, short stories and paintings. She died tragically on March 10, 1948 in a fire at Highland Hospital in Asheville, North Carolina.

Mother Melancholia

Ah, I understand now, alone, a product of ancient Rome

(a black collar, middle class, value family from my generation.)

Generation Catacomb!

WE utter tumors of blood.

For with OUR blood…plug the dykes and the wall still remains

It was there I had seen him first.  An overly clean orderly with distended belly. Apparently, he had many needs to feed his vice.

 

Than…

Oh, Mother Melancholia had been a woman-child of gelled mold.  Obliging, as a casserole.  She had been known for trading a weekend passes just to come in from the cold.

Catacomb Lovers you fill my psyche with only lies.

Broad is a shipwrecked boat in the woods, swinging from a household tree.

Sweaty are the breasts upon cursed, crafty cave.

imageedit_35_8202623415

I protest to this embankment,

The residents, the freaks, are prepared to overthrow!

No matter how you keep your pansies, well groomed.  No matter the vials for your smiles.  A Pagan Reformer tide…will be coming soon.  Crimson waters will punish your passageway.

..a chastity belt notched around the tombs.

imageedit_13_9644034266

 

Today in History

On the 12th of February, two extraordinary persons were born…

Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin.

Should we thank them for where we are currently?  Or, should we curse them out?  Personally, Lincoln is one of the few republicans that seems to make sense.  And, Darwin?  Well, Darwin only confirmed what I knew all along…the ‘Good News Bible’ was bullshit!

Do great thinkers share some sort of telepathy?  Do these great emancipators’ know the shit we are currently in?

  • Both scraggly fellows loved Shakespeare
  • A little late to the gate…neither Darwin or Lincoln made much of an impact until later in life
  • Both lost their mothers when they were quite young
  • Lincoln and Darwin lost children to ‘unknown’ illness when they (the kids) were very young.
  • I love music.  So did Abe and Charles.  Yet, such as myself…they could not hold a note.
  • Obviously, both Honest Abe and the Evolutionist…abhorred slavery

What I find amazing?  Here we are…over two hundred years later…fighting the same fight!

This country, with its institutions, belongs to the people who inhabit it. Whenever they shall grow weary of the existing government, they can exercise their constitutional right of amending it, or their revolutionary right to dismember it or overthrow it.

Honest Abe