Hypnagogic Or Am I ‘Nopompic

 

Getting ready to relax this ran through my head:

 

When you wish upon a star, it doesn’t matter how close or far

Or what you do, your dream comes true

But what about if you choose stand tall

And decide to wish on nothing at all

Or not to wish but ride life’s call

And vow to topple every wall

And stand against another’s thrall

Should there be no wish and your dream’s all you

What would happen, will you rise or fall?

 

So I guess there’s no sleeping yet and I wonder if I can rewrite it so everything doesn’t rhyme. I hate it when that happens. Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme all the time… for heaven’s sake listen to me.

 

Let’s see.

Aaarrgh!

 

When you wish upon a star, it doesn’t matter how close or far

 

We don’t really know where they are in proximity to earth but we can see them

Indicating a clear night leading into a clear day

But will we have clear thought

There’s something

Maybe the rhyming will be broken up if I talk people to death

Unless our pets learn how to read

Or a wild animal finds pieces of newspaper flying around

They’ll read it too

There are secret lives we don’t know about

We can’t necessarily see

 

Or what you do, your dream comes true

 

In the movies they do when magical things happen

But just ask Hume about that

If it happens then it’s natural not magical

Just an every day occurrence you know

 

Anyway

 

But what about if you choose stand tall

And decide to wish on nothing

Ok, so remove ‘at all’ and that changes but doesn’t hurt its flow

What’d’ya know

There I go

Again

 

Or not to wish but ride life’s calling

Let the tune it plays fill you

And vow to topple every obstruction but it’s not if you don’t dwell on it

Or perceive it so

And stand against another’s thrall

What one does to talk you out of who you are

Take that twinkle-twinkle

Should there be no wish and your dream’s all you

What would happen, will you rise or fall

When you refuse to wish

 

Yeah, that’s it

But that’s not all

 

My goodness it’s hopeless. I guess it was meant to rhyme in spite of my best intentions. Looking at the salt lamp’s reflection against the table lamp behind it, the figure on the wall resembles a bat, cat’s ears forming the wings but the head is too narrow resembling a perch to rest on like a gargoyle overlooking a city from on high. Something’s off, but as long as it doesn’t start flapping I’m good with it. Luckily the sky is getting light so it’s too late for any manifestations. Interesting, the shadow is more defined, your final hurrah old friend? Be that as it may, you’ll fade soon enough and I’m making another coffee then watching the clouds gather for the brewing storm, the shapes and colors they’ll form. No sun will be shining today.

 

Damn.

It is hopeless…

 

 

 

 

Van Helsing On Deck

 

She felt a sting near the knot tied at her hip. Absentminded she brushed and settled into the chaise and the second sting. “What the…” she brushed again, glanced at her side but it was at her back with another sting. “What…” she sprung sitting up twisted and turned. On the towel was a curled up fuzzy bit of something that’d earned getting brushed off the deck completely. “I come out early before any flying stinging creatures begin buzzing around in a stupor from the heat. Who invited you? How early do I have to get out here” and she settled back one last time. “It better be…”

 

An hour later she came in her body burning dripping sweat. “Shower.” On the way the bits of her lack of swimsuit were peeled and dropped over the hallway fan. “We’ll do this again tomorrow.” The water was adjusted to a hair above lukewarm, she stepped in inhaling relief as her heart rate relaxed from intense heat but at the same time she felt strange, a strange sensation devouring her from the head down like a beak closing over her piercing. She screamed a caw from a raw throat and thought she must be burning, something happened in the apartments, someone was careless, then jumped out grabbing a shirt from the closet in case it were necessary to run outside. The pain wouldn’t stop and she twisted throwing herself through the window and soared. “I’m in the air. How am I in the air…” She opened her eyes gliding above the houses, grounds, trees but staying just below the clouds, the shirt she’d pulled over herself with the big WTF that usually teased cleavage was now full abreast waving in the breeze, her wings spread through the capped sleeves. “How is this possible? This is so cool.” Then she saw him running into an open area. He looked up at her extending a leather clad arm, “come back!”

 

“Who the hell… Ha, I think not. WTF appropriately so…” she pushed like a swimmer would to pick up speed and soared higher feeling something give way inside as his head to his arm were covered in a whitish-brown spatter. “Look what I did” she cackle-cawed. “That’s supposed to be good luck you know.” Something glittered golden in the sun on her claw as she mused WTF strikes again. She lunged for speed and it snapped like a weak thread. Caught in the breeze it turned up revealing a dainty engraved oval. “Plated, wouldn’t you know” shaking it off she flew.

 

“Wonder when this wears off. Can I change when… ? How… ? Oh, that’s right, grilled fresh tuna and cut up a salad… tonight… Guess I’ll find out.”

 

 

 

 

 

If Sunday Is for Vampire Why Am I Watching Lethal Weapon

 

I have the collection and as the marathon continues on it occurs to me it never occurred to me how often Mel Gibson gets naked – he owns the love scenes, or wakes up in the morning and walks away from the camera. Well, wha’d’ya’know, he sleeps naked too. Hit the pause button, crack a beer and sit back… nah, I’d go for an ice cold martini, salute, let the movie play and don’t be lookin’ for a tip.

I remember, don’t ask why the thought was triggered, when I was in medical and finally getting back to school – can’t be promoted to doctor after all – that it took me a minute to put my finger on what was different at the university… the lightbulb came on and I laughed at myself – everyone was dressed. It would have made more sense, or wouldn’t have phased me if most of the student population walked around naked. Changing dressings, helping folks to the bathroom, changing sheets and chux, keeping on top of skin care, bed sores, in other words seeing nudity most of the day, every day, I think gives a healthier outlook, a different appreciation you could call it. There was one woman I just might always remember who had an open wound that needed to be packed each day. It was a wide smile across her generously rotund belly. We looked forward to seeing each other to BS recipes. I removed the gauze, pulled out the thin packing strips, cleansed it of course, packed it again, covered it with fresh gauze… what did we talk about during the procedure but meatloaf recipes. Now in my family we had a specific way using tomato soup as a sauce, the benefit being potatoes, carrots, onions could be cut up, spread around the loaf, and the whole thing could bubble to perfection in the oven – a one pot meal. As I worked I felt aware of how far I’d come in this profession, what terrific people I’d met, nudity, not nudity didn’t matter and appreciated the humor of our discussion over a sliced open belly, the same to me as not opened at all.

Good times.

I Hear Beer Cans Being Gathered

 

Some birds sing at 3am

Are they up to catch the worm

Or haven’t they been to sleep

Maybe flown in from Europe

Unaware of the time

Ahead or behind

Wondering where the sun could be

Are we in Scandinavia here or there

No should be much colder

Interesting creatures of the night as it is

Who knew it would be so

Like mermaids so beautiful to a sailors’ eye

But hissing like a snake

Take down the ship to debris

A cobra before it strikes then certain death

Innocent though they look

Gaze into their eyes

May be the last you see

 

 

Sunday Is For Vampire: You Just Never Know

It’s midnight madness movies at 3 a.m. Hercules this time and as I watch the all too familiar scene that for years I thought was a female stunt double driving the chariot it occurs to me it’s not a woman but a man, a man in a wig. In fact as I focus I’m certain the features, the face is much too strong, that it is definitely a man’s face in charge of those runaway horses who brings the chariot to the edge of the cliff struggling not to plunge into the sea beneath as Hercules grabs an entire tree, roots and all with that mystical-spooky music playing implying he’s not like everyone else, and throws it in front of the charging beasts saving the damsel, the female actress, in distress. Of course it’s been her the whole time the close up tells us as she collapses into a graceful faint. I get that same sensation, that excitement-warmth I felt as a young girl watching Steve Reeves, when WOR-TV had Sunday movie marathons and Hercules, Hercules Unchained, Jason and the Argonauts, Sons of Hercules, et al would play again, again, and again. I could shut the television, have Sunday dinner, put it back on and possibly watch from where I’d left off because the movie was playing one more time. TV was free, granted there were commercial interruptions but for these things they were limited, and there was always excellent programming, movie marathons being one of my favorites. Nowadays we pay a fortune and there’s never anything good on, or we’re paying big money to watch that one station not included with a basic cable package.

I feel an espresso coming on right after this fit of sneezing stops. I’m dusting today, no two ways about it.

Sunday Is For Vampire

 

They had a friend who worked in the kitchen. “Of course they did, how else could this work…

 

You had to have known, at least suspected there’d be a friend, a fellow vampire or sympathetic bystander to create the Steak Tar tare keeping it on the raw side or pan seared dripping bloody – vampires don’t eat food per se, of course; if there can be some that glitter in the sun rather than burn up we can have ‘em dining out” he said looking directly into the camera but the director didn’t say cut. He let it keep rolling figuring the directness would appeal to the audience like in older films but how effective would it be? Would they appreciate the banter? Hopefully. Maybe another promo to win a cameo on a Jeff Conrad movie could draw others like Nathan in. It’s not so hard to separate worthy from undesirables. Eh, it was something to do… for now. They had forever. Who can fathom ‘forever’? Even with a few centuries in, not yet.

 

Conveniently there were a chef and waiter who had always been helpful. They were seated, ordered and their meals were brought…

 

“Cut!”

 

“What… the steak?” Everyone laughed as Marie and Christof walked toward Jeff. “How did you like it?” “Very believable.” Jeff poured the three of them wine from a decanter. “Thanks Nathan. What a good actor he turned out to be.” They gave knowing laughs as glasses were raised. “Your fangs!” Marie cozied up to Jeff, Christof moved close in behind. “You’ll break another one and cut yourself.” “Blood is blood.” “Where do you come up with these storylines? I can’t imagine only animals…” Jeff covered her mouth with his.

 

 

It’s All Happened Before Or Afableypse 1981

 

 

Every now and again something crops up about the end of the world. Individuals get the inside scoop or an ancient calendar had predicted it long ago now here it is. The Farmers Almanac might be the only thing that hasn’t thrown in on it.

 

Anyway… Now that I’ve mentioned it not that I’m worrying about it but a friend of mine and I … We would visit each other daily. My 4-year old and her 5-year old would play while she and I shared a bottle of Soave, enjoying the day talking about whatever popped to mind and life in general. One day though we learned it was going to end. Her fiancée’s parents had gotten the inside scoop. No, they didn’t walk up and down streets wearing placards shouting warnings. They were so certain, so positive, so so so just knew it, they and many of their friends began selling all their stuff and planned to gather at a designated area to meet the end together. As this day, place and hour approached, and that sounding biblical, his parents kept calling warning him to be prepared, and of course wanted him to be with them when it happened. I was there when some of those calls took place, and we’d sit there afterward shaking our heads. He’d tried to talk them down just in case but they didn’t see it like that. With a child’s innocence, and it was childlike excitement for them, they knew they’d stumbled onto something. We knew no one really knows so it could go in either direction making chances of the world ending 50/50.

 

The extremity of it all was mind-boggling, really.

 

As we were leaving on what had been slated as the last day, I asked my friend if she thought the world might really end. Reflecting for less than a second she said, “There’s no sense worrying if it is.” “True, that’s true. I’ll see you tomorrow unless the world ends but maybe we’ll wind up somewhere soave flows freely and the kids can play as long as they want.”

 

Pause

 

Silence

Silence

Silence

 

Did it happen?

 

 

I awoke the next morning to a gorgeous Indian-Summer day. As I stood looking down at my son sleeping so peacefully my first thought was ‘it didn’t end’. As we began our walk I noticed the only thing resembling an apocalypse was the night winds had blown more brilliant fall leaves to the ground completely covering the roads. My son and I kicked them up making our own private path. My friend’s front door was open welcoming the unseasonably warm; she already had the Soave ready. “Well, the world didn’t end.” “No, it didn’t”, but I had to know. “What about Brent’s folks? Did they get rid of everything?”

 

 

Connections

 

It felt like plastic netting only soft. She sensed the ridges on her skin and heard “zzzip” like rolling ‘rrrrrhs” as she passed. “Spiders.” Glancing up she saw the web wasn’t damaged but glistened in the sun in a fine rough-edged sheet. A movie scene flashed through her mind of walking through seemingly harmless web and the hero’s back coated in tarantulas. “Poor things wouldn’t have a leg to stand on with this one” didn’t stop her from running her fingers through her hair and shaking off her clothing… just in case. No trespassers. She kept walking enjoying the not-too-humid-yet coolness.

 

He came to pick up his son. At the daycare the front doorbell rang but she was busy with the two year olds in the back room. He stood in the doorway she looked up surprised, and glanced him up and down as he did her. “We’re dressing alike. This isn’t good. He must be some kind of freaky.” Then she laughed to herself at the thought. He’d made a pass you could say the very first time she saw him running his hand along the remnant of her waist uttering a quiet rich moan as he passed her on his way to the back. In fact she could have laughed out loud at the delicious scenario, the wrestling match. “I’m an alpha. We’d argue about who’s in charge. Could be fun. He thinks he’s an alpha with that collection of concubines he’s attempting to accumulate.”

 

“She’s an alpha.” She heard. “She needs more love than any others.” He stood at the far end of the classroom signing his son out. He looked back. Looking ahead but just passed him she caught his full image. “Dressing alike pastels and white.” She smiled and walked toward Little Hercules, one of her favorites for sure, who’d taken the plastic broom and bent the handle close to in half. He was concentrating trying to get it to flip up and down…