Friday, July 25, 2008

Dumb poem -- Cool site!

I found a cool toy ... fun for kids and fun for the kid in me! It's an Online Magnetic Poetry page. Pretty nifty. Here's what I made:

magnetic poetry online


It's a dumb poem, I had a better one the other day... tomorrow I'll probably have the coolest one ever! Today, though, it's dumb.

Can't read it?
Really want to?
Ok, you talked me in to it, here ya go:

water monkey
you will sing
dream the moon
live on

Ok... I just thought of a better way to word it...

You will sing
Water monkey
Dream the moon
Live on


If you come up with something cool, I'd sure like to read it! So, share it here, OK?

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Buffalo Child Comes Home

A story by shirleytwofeathers


Buffalo Child was born on the evening of the day of a great storm. A hard rain came down in sheets, bringing earthworms up out of the soil, and sending raccoons scurrying home to their dens. The ground all around the birth mother had turned to mud, and was so deep and thick that Buffalo Child had a very hard time standing up.

Her birth mother tried to nudge her to her feet, but Buffalo Child just rolled over. She rolled over so many times that thick mud stuck to her birth damp coat, and became very heavy. Finally, with great difficulty, Buffalo Child stood up. She looked around for her birth mother, but everything was the color of brown earth. Thick mud covered Buffalo Child’s eyes, and she did not recognize anything. She could not see which of the dark shapes in front of her was her mother.

Buffalo Child moved hesitantly toward the dark shapes, and as she did, her confidence grew. Surely her mother was the tallest, most magnificent of all the shapes she saw before her. On unstable legs, she ran forward, running right into the thick brown shape she thought was her mother. But it wasn’t her mother that she was running towards. It was an old cottonwood tree, and it hit her hard between the eyes. Buffalo Child cried out, thinking that her mother had struck her. The tears washed some of the mud and dirt out of her eyes, and she saw that her mother was not the tree.

The other Buffalo Mothers were dismayed. They saw the newborn Buffalo Child run into the old cottonwood tree, they saw that she was lost and stumbling, and so they moved into a protective circle around her. Her birth mother once again nudged Buffalo Child and this time, with awkward shaky steps, she found her mother. Buffalo Child suckled sweet milk, and she felt love, and it was good.

Buffalo Child was never able to see clearly, and the thick mud that had formed around her when she was born soon hardened. It was very heavy, and caused her to grow in an unbalanced way. Her mother was patient at first, but their bond was not as strong as it might have been, and it was very hard to be the mother of a child who was half blind and unable to walk in a straight path. Buffalo Child was always bumping into rocks and tripping over thick clumps of prairie grass, and blundering into thickets of thorn bushes. The other mothers soon lost interest in this strange child; they grew tired of looking for her when she was lost. They had their own children to worry about. They had their own concerns.

And so it was, that Buffalo Child often went hungry, she had no safe place to sleep at night, no kind words were spoken, and her life grew cold and lonely. She no longer felt love, and did not often taste the sweetness of mother’s milk.

The leader of the tribe, a great White Buffalo, watched Buffalo Child those first days of her life. His heart filled with compassion as he saw how the members of the tribe, and even her own birth mother, one by one fell away, until soon Buffalo Child had no one at her side, no one to show her where the sweet grass was, no one to lead her to the quiet watering holes, no one to pick her up and dust her off after a great fall. He saw that she was alone in the world and his heart opened to her. And he took it upon himself to be her father.

He named her Star Child, and licked her clean of mud and dust. He pulled burrs and thorns out of her thick coat, and soon it was clear that she was truly his daughter. Her robe, like his, was thick and white. The White Buffalo leader was kind to Star Child, and she called him Father. He waited patiently when she stumbled and fell; he stood guard over her as she slept; he taught her to find her way. In his care, she once again felt the sweetness of love, and it was good. But although she grew healthy and strong, and the dust and mud were gone, Star Child never regained her balance, and her eyesight was not clear.

One early morning, in the spring of the year, when a family of snow geese made a V in the sky, the Father took Star Child on a long walk. They crossed a small river, and stopped to enjoy the otters at play. Soon they came to a beautiful place, a place that was very close to the rising sun. Blades of sweet grass shone with gold on their edges. Somewhere a cougar made his presence known, and for a moment all was silent.

Star Child was very tired and sleepy after the long walk, so she lay down to rest in the tall golden grass. The White Buffalo Father stood quietly over her. He made a necklace of sweet grass and placed it around her neck. He wove a very small crystal into the fur on her forehead, and then he went away.

Star Child woke up to an eerie cry. She looked around for her Father, but he was gone. She looked toward the rising sun and saw a huge shape coming towards her in the sky, it looked swift and sure. She was very afraid, so she closed her eyes, and buried her head in the grass. She hoped that she would look like a large white rock. She hoped that whatever it was that was coming would fly on by.

But it didn’t.

The Great Mother of the Golden Eagles flew out of the rising sun toward Star Child. Her eyes were sharp and bright. She picked the Star Child up in her strong talons, and carried her to her nest high in the top of a tree that grew high on the top of a mountain right on the edge of the world. The nest was large and lined with golden down. Golden Eagle Mother set Star Child down in the nest. Her eyes were sharp and bright, but they were kind, and Star Child lost her fear.

The time that Star Child lived in the nest was a healing time. No one laughed at her, or made fun of her for falling down, or bumping into things. She didn’t get lost. It was easy to stay in the nest because the sides were tall and strong, made of sturdy sticks and branches. It was a secure place at the top of the world. And Star Child could look over the edge, and out into the world whenever she wanted.

Golden Eagle fed Star Child healing herbs. She brought fresh, mountain water. In the night, under the bright stars, Star Child nestled, contentedly under Golden Eagle’s strong wings, and listened to the rhythm of her strong heart. She thought of her as Mother. It was a safe and sacred time.

Soon, because of the healing herbs, and because of the love of the Golden Eagle Mother, Star Child began to see more clearly. She began to see more than just colors and shapes when she looked out into the world. She began to see green grass, and red hawks feasting on the mice that lived in the grass. She saw rivers, and ponds, and the lodges of beavers. She saw forests and trees, and the deer people who lived amongst the trees.

At first it was fun to be seeing so clearly. But after a time, Star Child began to miss the feeling of soft grass and the earth under her feet. She wanted to bury her nose in flowers just like the hummingbirds she saw from her high perch at the edge of the world. She wanted to walk with fireflies in the evening time, and listen to owls in the night.

She looked toward the northern plains, and she saw the White Father, and she saw his gentle eyes, and knew his love. She saw her Birth Mother, and how it was with her, and the other Buffalo Mothers, their children, and the great Buffalo Tribe, and her heart was filled with an aching sadness. But she knew that in this great high place she was loved, that the Golden Eagle Mother loved her deeply and fiercely, and she herself had great love for the Mother of Eagles. So Star Child decided to forget about her sadness, she made a gift out of her precious necklace of sweet grass and gave it to the Mother. She decided to try to be happy.

The Golden Eagle Mother was pleased with the gift, but she was not fooled. She was ancient and wise in the way of children. And she knew what was best for Star Child. So one day, when the sun stood tall in the center of the sky, she took Star Child out of the nest and flew with her down to a place where the grass was thick and lush, where fat gray rabbits lived in warrens under the ground; a place of rivers filled with salmon; and where families of wolves hunted and sang in the night.

She gently set Star Child down in the soft green grass. And she said, “I love you, and I will watch over you always. My light will shine on you, no matter where you go, no matter where you are.” And with that, she flew back to her nest by the place where the sun rises.

Star Child was alone. She was a little bit scared, and a little bit sad. Star Child was alone. She was a little bit scared, and a little bit sad, but she was also excited and happy to be in this new place. Rabbits peeked out of their holes, curious about this stranger whose white robe was now tipped with gold. They were very impressed.

As soon as Star Child saw their little rabbit faces peeking out of the ground, she scrambled quickly to her feet. She was eager to make new friends. But even though her vision was good, her balance was still very bad, she was still unable to walk a straight path, and the first thing she did was run into a large rock and fall down. The rabbits laughed and laughed. They rolled on the ground laughing. Star Child saw that their laughter was filled with joy and fun, and she started laughing too.

Coyote heard the laughter and immediately came to investigate. And what he saw filled him with amazement. In front of him was a buffalo calf, with gold tipped white fur, rolling on the ground, with rabbits, laughing. He watched quietly. Soon the laughter stopped, the rabbits went back to their rabbit business, and Star Child stood up. She was hungry and began to munch on the grass.

Coyote noticed that the buffalo calf walked in a strange sideways, stumbling fashion. She seemed to know where she was going, but she was unable to walk a straight path, and sometimes she fell down. He began to follow Star Child around. He did everything she did. When she crashed into a tree, he crashed into a tree. He became her shadow. It was great fun.

And Star Child was very comforted to find that she had a shadow companion. Soon they became friends. Star Child told Coyote her story, and Coyote showed Star Child the way of the world. They had many adventures. Star Child discovered that if she followed Coyote as like a shadow, that it was OK to fall down, and that sometimes it was a great and wonderful joke. Sometimes they both fell down on purpose just to have a good laugh.

From Coyote, Star Child learned how to get out of a tight spot, how to talk her self out of big trouble, how to enjoy the surprises of life, and that there is bitter and sweet in every experience. Coyote taught Star Child the language of flickers, how to get the Grandfather of the Fishes to guide you out of deep water and back to dry land, and how brown bears find honey. It was a powerful time, a time of companionship and trust. Star Child called Coyote brother, and they were friends.

One day, late in the summer, Coyote took Star Child on the road toward the place of the setting sun. Towards evening, they came to a cave. Star Child curled up in a comfortable corner of the cave and went to sleep. While she slept, Coyote kept watch. He built a small fire and burned some sage. He sang to the stars, and the stars sang back. Then Coyote left a bundle of sage next to his friend and left.

When Star Child woke up it was very dark and cold. The fire had gone out a long time before. She was alone and very afraid. She called out to Brother Coyote, but he did not reply. She called out to the Mother of the Eagles, and to the Father of the Buffalo, and still there was no reply. The cave was dark, and cold, and silent. She picked up the bundle of sage, and held it to her heart. It did not speak to her either.

She wandered around in the dark for a very long time. Sometimes she bumped into walls; sometimes she fell over rocks. Nothing was funny, and she got very lost. Finally, Star Child sat down and cried. She let the tears flow. She cried for her lost tribe, for the Father, Mother, and Brother who were lost to her. She cried for herself because she was lost, and alone, and afraid. After a while, she ran out of tears. She was tired and exhausted from the wandering, the falling, and the crying, so she did not know what to do.

Suddenly she heard a loud rumbling noise. It sounded like thunder. Star Child stood up, her legs were shaking so much that she almost fell down. But she clutched the bundle of sage that Coyote had left for her. There in the middle of the cave was a huge brown mound of fur. The fur was thick and dark and shot thru with the gray hairs of age. One eye opened, and then the other.

Grandmother Grizzly looked right into Star Child’s heart. She looked past the fear, she looked past the stumbling and the fumbling, and she saw a sweetness and a light. She saw the sweetness of tall prairie grass, the light of golden sunshine, and she saw a story, and a friendship, and fun.

Star Child looked back. She forgot that she was frightened. She saw a Grizzly Bear, and she also saw wisdom, depth of feeling, and a heart as big as the world. “Hello Grandmother,” she said.

“Hello Little One.”

Star Child gave Grandmother the bundle of sage that she had in her hand. The gift was accepted with a smile. Grandmother invited Star Child to sit down. Star Child was very tired after wandering around for so long in the dark, and from the falling, and the crying, and soon she was curled up next to Grandmother Grizzly. There, in that safe warm place, Star Child fell very deeply asleep. She dreamed many dreams. Star Child dreamed of things she had never seen, of the great Whale Tribe that lives deep in the ocean. She saw visions, and she explored the dark time realm. Sometimes she would wake up, and wander through the cave. She talked to the shy mice that nested in hidden places, and to the ants that occasionally visited. If she found water or food, she shared it with them and with Grandmother.

Always when she slept she had dreams, and when the dreams frightened her, she moved closer to Grandmother for comfort, solace, and strength. It was a dark and quiet time. The depth of love was great.

And then, one day, Grandmother woke up. She thanked Star Child for spending time with her, for bringing her food and water through the long sleep. “Now you must go home,“ she said. “I will go with you in your dreams. I will be with you as you sleep, and beside you when you wander in the dark.”

Grandmother Grizzly stretched and growled. She stood up tall and strong, and she pushed hard on the side of the cave. The rock wall gave way with a shout and a roar. Sunlight streamed in.

For a time, Star Child was blinded and disoriented. She walked out into the world, and her vision cleared. It was the fall season; the air was crisp. Ravens spoke to her from the trees, and a snake slipped under the dry leaves into his safe hole in the ground. She looked back to say goodbye to Grandmother, but the cave was gone. She looked around, in the distance Star Child saw a herd of Elk, and beyond the snow covered hills, she saw sweet grass, and yes… Buffalo grazing.

Star Child made her way toward the Tribe. She noticed as she went, that she was able to walk a straight and narrow path, that she was not running into trees, or stumbling into bushes, or getting lost in thickets of brambles and weeds. Quietly and surely, she made her way toward the place where the Buffalo stood grazing, toward her birth mother, her birth brothers and sisters.

In the distance she heard Coyote laughing, so she stopped and waited for him to catch up. As she waited, she looked toward the east and saw the Great Mother of Eagles, and the Sun to touched her face. She heard dolphins singing. She walked toward the north, toward the White Buffalo Father, who smiled to see her again.

And so Star Child came home. But no one recognized her. Her robe had turned to a deep rich brown during her time in the cave; her eyes were clear and gold in color; there was a white star on her forehead; and the scent of sage followed her like a shadow. They called her Buffalo Woman. She lived quietly among her people. Sometimes she told stories, sometimes she fell down just for fun, and always she took care of the children.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Held Within

I have been reading through some of my old journals, and I found something that I wrote several years ago. It seemed appropriate for the season, (winter), and so here it is.

Host unlimited photos at slide.com for FREE!

Seeds. Roots.
Bones.
deep in the dark earth
staying put
held in by Winter's rigid cold
and yet it is love
that cold stiff harsh winter breath/blanket is so lovingly
laid down
stay put, she says
stay put
go deeper within the within
not time yet to come out
not time yet to grow up
not time yet to reach forward
hunker down
cozy up
build strength
gather your reserves
let the Mother hold you inside
the dark earth
held firm
not soft
a tight grip
a good hold
loving
I will hold you until you are
ready to come out
strong enough within to be without

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Did you know I used to write stories?

Today I found a story I wrote years ago... I had totally forgotten it - and surprisingly - I really enjoyed reading it this morning. So I said to myself, "What the heck, I'll put it on my blog." It's a 3000 word story, which is kind of long for a blog post. So, I thought I'd introduce it here and then post it in four parts or "chapters".

The name of the story is Satisfaction Guaranteed. I must not have sent it to very many publishers because it doesn't have a bunch of return envelopes and rejection letters attached to it. This leads me to believe that I wrote it and then got discouraged because of other rejection letters received for other stories; or I wrote it and then got discouraged because the people around me didn't "rave" about how wonderful it was; or I wrote it and then got discouraged for totally unrelated reasons...

So, here it is: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four

If any one has the fortitude to read the whole thing, I'd love it if you would let me know. You wouldn't even have to say that you liked it or didn't like it. Just knowing someone besides me actually read it would make my day.

Smiles and hugs!

Satisfaction Guaranteed

A short story

by Shirley Gibson


When Andrew Deacon Tritus moved into the vacant house with the 5 acre lot, he didn't ask the owner for permission, nor did he put money down for rent or lease. No one knew who the owner was anyway, and it didn't much matter. After all, the place was a falling down wreck out by the dump, an eye sore, and a menace to the roving bands of unwary children who scavenged the outskirts of town in the summer, looking for treasure, or trouble of one sort or another.

At first there had been some hope that he'd fix the place up. But, as old man Taylor used to say, (and he'd say this several times a day, managing to work it into darn near every conversation, particularly when the missus was present), "You cain't make a silk shirt out of a pig's ass." Which of course, always sent Missus Taylor into a regular hissy fit, and was probably why old man Taylor said it so often in the first place. After all, when you live in a place called Willard, a spit-in-the-road town in eastern Colorado, you don't see much excitement, and pretty much have to make it where you can.

So, Andy Tritus moved into the small house and spent his mornings fixing lawnmowers, radios, and whatever else came his way. He spent his afternoons making inventions that never quite worked because he was always having to use jury rigged parts scrounged from the dump instead of regular store boughts. And he spent his nights dreaming impossible dreams, reading science fiction, fantasies, and weird tales from the odd little magazines he sometimes found in the landfill.

On Saturday afternoons, Andy rode his wobbly 3-speed bike the five dusty miles into town. One day he hoped to have a car, but so far all he'd managed to scrounge up was the chassis of a burned out '65 Ford, four bald but well patched tires, and an engine block from a '76 Olds that was in pretty decent condition. How he was going to put it all together, he hadn't quite figured out yet.

Once in town, he'd pick up a few groceries and then stop in at Floyd's. The tavern was a dark little place, and Andy usually sat at the bar, hunched over the beer he'd bought with his hard earned cash; his one clean shirt, dusty from the long ride, hanging loosely on his narrow frame, and tucked into a pair of tan baggy pants that were cinched tightly with an old leather belt on which was burned the name Mike Barnstedd.

The bar girls never had much to say to him. Not even Lila, and she'd hit the sack with darn near every man who set foot in Floyd's. It wasn't because he didn't have money (which he didn't), or because he wasn't much to look at (which he wasn't - not with his long skinny neck and dishwater blond rough cut hair), no, it was because he just didn't seem interested.

And he wasn't. He wasn't interested in brassy middle-aged redheads (Lila), or hard edged girls with sharp eyes, and even sharper mouths, (Lix and Carrie). No, when Andy sat in that cool, dark, nearly empty bar on those late Saturday afternoons, he didn't think about the all too available girls lounging at the far table, smoking and sipping their diet soft drinks, making their evening plans. He thought about his dream girl, about what it would be like to one day walk in on a Saturday night, when the evening was in full swing, and the bar crowded, with a delicious looking blond draped over his arm - a delicious looking blond with a mouth like warm honey, and a body that really know how to please a man.

Of course, he knew that it was just a dream, and an impossible one at that, but it helped to pass the time, and like his old man used to say: "What good was a man if he didn't have dreams?"

And that's how things were until the day he found the advertisement. (read more)

Satisfaction Guaranteed - chapter two


And that was how things were until the day he found the advertisement. He never could remember where it came from. It was just there one day, sticking out from underneath an old coffee cup precariously balanced on a pile of old books and papers - a postcard, like the kind that fall out of magazines, or show up in your mail box addressed to "occupant".

He looked it over while he ate breakfast (stale donuts dipped in lukewarm coffee).

Mail order brides.
Tailored to fit YOUR individual needs.
We can MAKE your dreams come true!
Do not delay!
The lover of your dreams could be in your arms TODAY!
Satisfaction guaranteed!
Send for FREE information.
DO IT NOW!

"If I had me a bride the donuts would be fresh and the coffee hot," he thought as he chewed through a tough chocolate coated donut, and imagined a cheery white table cloth, flowered curtains blowing in a lilac scented breeze, and a beautiful blond with big brown eyes and a warm sweet mouth.

For some reason he always imagined her draped - draped over the kitchen counter, draped over his arm. A tawny golden female with a body that - he sighed, wiping chocolate off the side of his mouth with the back of his hand, thinking of an old Juke Box song - 'wraps all around me like a rubber band'. "That's what I'd have, if I could have me a made to order bride," he thought to himself.

Of course, he knew there was probably a catch to it somewhere. What kind of a girl would be that desperate these days, he wondered as he fiddled with the pop-up mechanism of Mrs. McCurdy's six slice toaster. But the words of the ad kept coming back to him, and he was tinkering with Emma Lacey's ancient upright vacuum cleaner, when it suddenly occurred to him that possibly some foreign girl (he had a temporary vision of an exotic sultry eyed beauty) just might be desperate enough to marry someone mail order. So he sat down and filled out the back of the card.

Just then a red faced Jack Riddle blustered in lugging his brand new 31 inch color TV. "The stinking lousy thing don't work." he shouted. "I spend $800 cash money, and the lousy piece of junk don't even work. So I take it back to make the assholes fix it under warranty but they say they gotta send to Jersey for the parts, New Fucking Jersey for crying out loud. It'll take three weeks to fix it, can you believe it? Three weeks, and my son, MY SON, is going to play in the Cotton Bowl game tomorrow afternoon."

Of course everyone in Willard knew that Jack Riddle Jr was going to play in the big game. Jack Sr had made sure of that. And Jack Sr could probably have watched the game on any number of 19 and 20 inch color TV's. But he had gone all out for this one, and by God, if he owned the biggest TV in town, he wanted to watch Jack Jr win the game on the biggest TV in town.

So Andy saved Jack Riddle from a stroke and a massive coronary by fixing the TV in a record two and a half hours. Jack Jr did not win the came but he did make a touchdown in a play that was played and replayed on the Riddle's VCR until folks quit going over to their house and the video tape began to get all dinged up from overuse.

In all the excitement, the strange little advertisement was forgotten. But Andy must have mailed the card, because a couple of weeks later he got a big manila envelope in the mail covered with odd looking stamps and strange foreign writing. The mailman hung around the mail box for 15 minutes talking weather, and speculation on who would win the super bowl, all the time hoping Andy would comment on the contents of the envelope. But Andy didn't know what was in that envelope, and he wasn't about to open it in front of Charley Shafer. The last time he'd done something like that, Charley'd let the whole town in on the news that his mother had left his father for a 25 year old male stripper named "Bubbles." It had taken Andy months to live that down, and while no one razzed him about it much anymore, folks weren't likely to forget it either.

When Charley finally left in a flurry of disappointed curiosity, Andy opened the envelope. (read more)

Satisfaction Guaranteed - chapter three

(go back to chapters one or two)

When Charley finally left in a flurry of disappointed curiosity, Andy opened the envelope. Inside was a full color brochure, forms, and a letter from "Acme Mail Order Brides." He looked at the pictures, glanced at the forms, and read the letter. The girls in the pictures were beautiful, all three of them. But no where in the letter did it say that THOSE girls were the mail order brides. It did say in the letter, that he would get exactly what he wanted, exactly what he ordered, and exactly what he paid for. And the service wasn't cheap either - $189.95 per bride - satisfaction guaranteed.

Foreign girls, Andy decided, it had to be. Well, he'd have to think about it. And think about it he did.

He thought about it that afternoon as he bent over the remains of the brand new riding lawn mower Sally Eckert had set on fire the night she caught her husband John kissing Carla leBeau on the mouth for a very long time in the kissing booth at the 4th annual School Daze Fair. Carla LeBeau was a foreign girl. She wasn't exactly his type, but she was built for pleasure, and not shy about it either.

He thought about it that evening while his TV dinner cooled, the turkey gravy congealing over spongy instant potatoes, and he sat at the dining room table and looked around the room actually seeing it for the first time in years. Thick cobwebs crowded the corners of the windows, piles of rumpled clothing, boxes of junk, scattered books, papers, oily rags, and gutted machines littered the floor and covered the faded sagging furniture.

And again that night as he lay in bed, alone, he thought about brown eyes, warm lips, a body he could get lost in... a golden beauty who would care for him, pleasure him, love him.

"I need a woman," he decided, foreign or no.

The next morning, he looked the forms over - $189.95! Andy pulled a battered bank book out of his back pocket. The balance was $62.17. Well, he could always sell the microwave oven. He'd found it in the landfill, boasting nothing more serious than a faulty timer. He didn't have much else to sell. There was the TV, his complete set of Space Alien comics, and his bike, his trusty bike. $189.95 was a lot of money, but he could scrape it up.

It took the better part of a day, but Andy worked steadily, answering questions, filling in the lines, and even adding a few of his own. From physical attributes to inner qualities, he painstakingly described the ideal woman, his dream lover. If he was going to have to sell his cherished possessions, he definitely wanted the most for his money, the best - and why not? at those prices!

At last it was done, the forms filled out, the money collected, the order sent out first class mail to a post office box in an obscure country overseas. Not even Charley Shafer was sure where it was.

The days dragged by with such irritating slowness that Andy found it impossible to sit still. He cleaned the little house inside and out, trimmed his hair, mended his clothes, washed the curtains, and cut the straggling grass in the front yard. Once a week he walked the 5 long miles to town to pick up groceries and other small necessities. But he never stayed for his Saturday beer. What if she came while he was gone?

Every day he burned a hole in the long dirt road, watching for her bus, her car, her cab....

How was she going to come anyway? Maybe he was supposed to pick her up somewhere! Did it say in the brochure? Andy tore through the house in a frenzy, dumping out boxes, rummaging through drawers, upending the furniture. He finally found it carefully folded and tucked into the inside pocket of his only good coat.

UPS - yes, there it was in small print on the bottom of the last page of the brochure. "Your mail order bride will be shipped UPS. Please allow 4 - 6 weeks for delivery."

Andy stared at the brochure. "Holy shit!" he said out loud, "It's some sort of robot! I've ordered a goddamn robot!" he was so upset at first, that all he could do was sit and stare out the window. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, he didn't clean up the mess he'd made.

But after a day or two of sitting and staring, it didn't sound quite so bad. So what if she was a robot. She'd be beautiful, beautiful and capable, or by golly he'd send her back.

He tried to imagine his beautiful robot bride draped lovingly over his arm, but all he could come up with was a vision of a round metal canister, crushing his arm, looking like she came right out of "Lost in Space" saying, "I love you, Will Rogers."

The days ticked by. He was in a fever of anticipation on day - a robot! It must be state of the art equipment, he'd duplicate her and make millions! - and deep in a fit of depression the next, as his dream of tawny golden love and delicious sex filled nights expired in a tangle of microchips and chrome.

Then one day a big brown truck pulled up in front of his house. UPS! Andy broke out in a sweat. His heart thudded painfully against his throat. He could hardly walk to the door. (read more)

Satisfaction Guaranteed - chapter four

(go back to chapters one, two, or three)

Andy broke out in a sweat. His heart thudded painfully against his throat. He could hardly walk to the door. He had a sudden urge to pee.

"Sign here."

He signed, his fingers shaking, and slipping on the pen.

"You OK?"

He couldn't get his mouth to work, all he could do was nod. He looked around for the box, but all the UPS man had was a small brown package. That must be the control module, he thought, licking his lips. Or maybe it's for someone else. My box must be too heavy to lift. That's it! He'll need me to help him with it.

The UPS man handed him the package. It felt soft inside, like it held cloth.

Clothes! These were her clothes. Of course!

Andy followed the UPS man out to his truck, waiting for some indication of what to do. But the UPS man tipped his hat, said "So long," got into the truck and drove off leaving Andy standing there in the driveway, his mouth hanging open, holding the package.

He looked at the package. He looked at the rapidly disappearing truck. This couldn't be it. He looked at the return address. "Ace Mail Order Brides" it said. And marked on the package in bold block print, it also said, "Fragile. Handle with care."

Inflatable? he wondered. Did I spend $189.95 on an INFLATABLE BRIDE? Andy wanted to scream. He wanted to rage and kick and break things. But he didn't. He walked slowly into the little house holding the brown package. He put it down on the table and stared balefully at it.

I'll send it back, he thought. They'll return my money or I'll sue their butts off. I'll... I'll... kill those motherfucking con artists! Just as he was working himself into a frenzy of violence, the package moved.

Or something inside of it did. He looked at it, all thoughts of extreme violence forgotten. The package moved again. he heard a small scratching sound.

He reached out his hand slowly to touch the package. He poked at it with a finger - nothing. Then the seal began to separate. The package was opening itself. And there before his eyes unfolded a beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful table cloth of tawny gold. It shimmered and spread itself out, almost covering the table. Then the eyes opened. Large deep brown eyes set into the thickest part of the "table cloth."

Andy reached out to touch it to see if it was real. The edge of the cloth lifted and traveled warmly up his arm. "Draped over my arm," he thought, remembering the descriptions he'd so painstakingly written, "a vision of tawny gold."

The edge of the "tablecloth - that was all he could think of to call it - reached around his neck and fiddled with his ear. It felt delicious. He tried to ignore how nice it felt.

"Do I please you?" she purred.

Andy was speechless. She was a tablecloth for crying out loud! A talking purring tablecloth. Of course he wasn't pleased. Was he?

The "cloth" lifted off the table in a light graceful motion and settled around his shoulders. Brown eyes stared at him from his arm, and he could see that the edges of this strange creature were fingers, like fringe. And while some of those fingers were still playing gently with his ear, others had found more personal places, and soon she had wrapped herself warmly all around him.

"Do I please you?" she purred, and a thousand fingers took off his clothes.

Andy made a sound deep in his throat. One thing was sure, he probably wasn't going to send her back just yet.

* * *

Sometimes change happens slow, like moss growing on a rock -- the years go by and you don't notice until suddenly it's there, moss covered and looking like it's been there for centuries. That's how it was with the tumble down house out by the dump. No one paid much attention, and gradually the grass grew, flowers bloomed, shutters were fixed, and the paint on the trim shown like spit polished boots.

And Andrew Deacon Tritus didn't drop in at Floyd's on Saturdays anymore. He'd drive into town in the car he'd built, pick up his groceries, and smile when Leona May said that he sure did eat a lot for such a skinny young man.

Only the children had a notion of strangeness on the outskirts of town when summer afternoons would sometimes find them running home, eyes big as saucers, shouting about a golden tablecloth leading a small group of shimmering doilies on a rambling flight in and around the mounds of debris in the Willard County Landfill.

~the end~

Sunday, December 2, 2007

I Crucify Myself

I Crucify Myself a Thousand Times

I crucify myself
a thousand times every day
I keep thinking
that
I'll cut it out
but I don't
there is all this extra baggage
and unfinished business
and this nebulous thing about
"being nice"
even when
I'm trying to be pointed and honest
strings are attached
I forgive them and then
forget to forgive
myself
this is my crown of thorns
my Crown Royal
and this is where
I stab myself
in the back
driving the point home
just literally pounding it in
is this really me
or do I still have my blinders
on shattering self images
counting down the years
time is running out
burning the candle
at both ends i'm trying to get a
handle on it
I want to be "good"
I want to get all my shit
into one small bag
I want that last piece
of the puzzle to slide
easily into place
and is that once in a blue moon
pie in the sky happily ever after
magical thinking
did i make my bed and now
i have to lie in it
feels deeply rooted
am I still a girl fragile
easily shattered
or just an old hag
with a bunch of screws loose
this is my slippery slope
the not so soft place
where I land
the quick sand I thrash around in
every day

-Barbie


Like it?
See the slide show at Green Dolphin Studio or visit a complete set of photos at Flickr.
This piece, by the way, has been sold.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

knotted laces

by
shirley gibson

yes she is coming i hear her old lady shoes clonking up the stairs she said your shoe laces must be tied and not knotted tied and not knotted
yes they are knotted i must not be late for breakfast it is six oclock the laces are knotted and i am late
yes she is coming up the long stairs in her old lady shoes the laces are stubborn and garbled
yes the other children spill out of their rooms every morning with bright eyes shoes tied and tumble down the stairs like so many puppies i stay behind
yes my eyes are not bright my hair hangs down over my face my shoe laces are not tied
yes i am not a friendly puppy child i am the runt
yes my nose is running i am afraid my stubborn fingers fight with the laces i am only five years old my heart is beating so hard my whole body is beating so hard my whole body is shaking
yes i want my mama my mama is not coming she is not my mama she is the aunty edith the
yes maam my mama is never coming
yes i hear the murmur of the happy puppy children sitting down to breakfast
yes i am late she is coming and my shoe laces are like thin white snakes doing what they want and not what i want
yes they will not come unknotted
yes i am crying thick ugly tears i am scraggly and wet with a runny nose and red eyes i will never be able to tie these shoes i wish i could melt into the floor and disappear but i cant
yes she will hit me because i cant disappear into the floor because i am late for breakfast because my shoe laces are knotted she will hit me because i am a runt child
yes she thinks i will grovel and pee on the floor like a puppy but she is wrong
yes i am a runt puppy a runt coyote puppy child i will not cower i will curl my lip and snarl i will chew up those knotted laces with my sharp bright teeth i will chew up her old lady shoes
yes and gnaw on her ankles i will glide down the stairs like a shadow
yes i will sit at the table with those bright puppy children with their shoe laces tied with their hair neatly braided
yes i will show them my teeth i will lay my ears back
yes she is coming her old lady shoes clonking on the long hallway
yes she is opening the tall door
yes i am not sorry for my knotted laces for my red eyes i am not sorry for my stringy hair
yes i am the coyote child
yes i do not grovel when she hits me
yes i do not cry
yes i sit down to breakfast with soft puppy children
yes i am late
yes i show them my hard eyes my sharp teeth
yes my laces are still knotted
yes


Can you spot the "coyote kid"? Here's a hint.
She is the only girl wearing cowboy boots.

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