Vivian Maier "A FANTASY" for Magpie 141

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VIVIAN MAIER...A FANTASY

"Not yet", said he--to the one named Vivian

who had just dis'barked her amphibian, 

(her private way to travel

without all the public babble.)

Inspector Maier, frequently called 

upon to investigate solutions of "the

insolvable" crimes, gathered evidence

through use of smoky mirrors.  Also a

Kodak Brownie, and strong reflecting light

completed her bag of tools.  

Set free to investigate and roam

She'd solve the crime--then rob the home.

A professional sleuth no longer...

Vivian Maier died a pauper.

Trapped by her own mirrors and light

Viv shot her last shot...gave up the fight.

NOTE: Suspecting Police 

had installed a Brownie 

behind each reflective glass

to catch this famous dowdy...

--steveroni

FIREWORKS

Magpie Tales is HERE

A BURNING DESIRE
(haiku)

Burning desire

Way back there my house on fire

Men shooting their guns.

I remember when

There was no fence here at all.

Men set posts at night.

Why this barby wire?

Keep bad men out--or me in?

Neither accomplished...

Those people back there

Have no clue whut's gonna happen

(Mountain will blow up...)

Explosives planted

Everywhere. Yes, I did it.

Fireworks at nine.

--steveroni Oct 2014

IN THE PARK

IN THE PARK

Slowly you walk with old man,

in city where both live,

through greens and trees

in a park

Listen. Shhhhh. In breeze,

leaves, whispering 

accompaniment to lovely song

of a lark.

Sitting on wooden bench,

with ancient, trusty knife--

for just the two of you he

carves II...your mark.

Other things happen,

Hot dogs with relish, 

ice cream, chocolate.

Ah! A spark...

"Dear Madam, you have

made bright my day.

We walked, we talked,

you held this withered hand,

and now..........time 

to debark.

It is dark."

--steveroni

10/10/2014

The Neighborhood.

MAGPIE is HERE

The Neighborhood

They said,

(By the way, 

who IS "they"?)

Anyway, they say,

"The Terraplane will 

fit like an aeroplane". 

The condo 'hood

above ground stood--

Plenty space to play.

Underground pipe

for children who like 

to seek...and to hide

(Don't have to find!)

In time (after) great flood

a subdivision built

Big boat, lots animals

with Noah settled nearby

in mud, muck, and mire,

discovered again

How to make--grin-- fire!

Now, only problem left--

be certain--make a list

and check it twice, thrice.

For the 

Groc'ry

Is far

away.....

--steveroni

GIRL WALKING

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GIRL WALKING

She walking, eyes full of tears

knows not where she go

nor seem to care

any more

as that river, overflowed with 

melting mountain snow-ice,

flood and current carried 

house away

like nicely appointed two-storied 

scow, she watched floating 

downstream, around bend,

her home

possessions, all destroyed. her bike,

computer, photos and books

everything she liked

forever gone

Where now to go, run, hide, 

bide time to think, start at the end

and end at begin

again

as little one walks, certain that

water rise no higher

than her boot tops.

Swishh...swishh

--steveroni

ACCIDENT?

courtesy: MAGPIE TALES

ACCIDENT?
(attempted Haiku)

Oh my God, I am

beginning to remember...

my dear I hit you. 

Over a trivial 

triviality we fought.

And I thought you ought

be nicer to me.

As your head hit the marble

I took to the bottle

and drank it all. 

Now your body...what to do?

(You won't feel a thing.)

--steveroni

"Morning curtains" conjures an idyllic situation/scene.  I enjoyed disturbing it a bit, almost like a child smearing up an artist's freshly painted work.

LET THE END BEGIN

Inspired by and Written for 

MAGPIE

LET THE END BEGIN

Look at me

upside down, 

my feet tingly

belly SO hot

Who are these creatures

swooshing, fluttering,

zooming like dive bombers, 

yet fearing to touch?

Wishing harm to me

planning my demise

it shall happen, that

one day all power 

will rapidly

diminish...

and

end

--Your old fashioned 

100-watt light bulb

Steve E

A BIT OF UNKNOWING-- HAIKU

Walking Skeleton by
http://alistair.cockburn.us/Walking+skeleton" 

A BIT OF HAIKU...

A bit of me thinks 

that a bit of Universe 

is without meaning.

True faith is born here:

yes, of this meaninglessness, 

and my unknowing.

Chaos reigns supreme,

with all problems of the world

seeming insolvable.

I continue to 

believe everything OKAY

in the end--knowing

all safe in God's Hands.

Therein is proof of our faith

that God's still in charge.

--Steve E

GIVING and TAKING (Part II TAKING)

More about artist Ces Adorio. Ces and artist friend Bella each donated a gift of their art to blogger friends--who gave $25 or more to Red Cross for relief of Japanese who had suffered after the great Earthquake and Tsunami of 2011.  They raised thousands of dollars. What an honor it is for me to have use of their art for illustrating my blog now and then. They are each on my sidebar "Blogroll"...

Drawing by CES

Please scroll down to Part I if you have not read that. Thank you

The following took place 

three months before 

Hump had a great fall 

off that great wall.

TAKE  (Part II of "Give and TAKE)

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Giuseppi, who laid that linoleum checkerboard floor for that rich guy. Ever since then, I've coveted that pig standing on the floor under the painting. It was a hard job, the squares had to be laid exactly "just so". Had to pick up the pig's feet one-by-one. 

The guy--we called him "Earless Hump", remember?--couldn't hear a sound. Shaped like an egg, all dressed fit-to-kill, he played (of all things) the gol-danged fiddle, which sounded
H O R R I B L E S
--O GOD!
 I don't believe he even knew. But I knew I wanted that hog.

I knew robbing him would be easy, he was so stuck on himself--in his lonely, noiseless world. That night the moonshine spilled over from the painting (large as a window!). I climbed right into his home through that painting--

Well, things happened pretty fast then  (aren't you glad--grin!). A mouse on top of the picture frame spotted--and immediately fell in love with--a mouse on the floor. As the mice played, they scampered up his pant leg. He abruptly turned, caught me red-handed, pulled out a gun and fired.

Visitors who come by for concerts, make "sign" gestures with their hands and ALWAYS ask him about the man half in and half out of the painting--like a "remarque"--with a little blood-red ink on the frame.

--Steve E

September 2014

GIVING and TAKING (Part 1--Giving)

Native of the Philippine Islands, Ces Adorio lives in the United States, and is my most favorite artist (she will tell you this is true!) Ces owns a Blog on which she has freely posted the results of her most unusual talents, drawing, painting and squiggling and writing.

 HUMPTY DUMPTY by Ces Adorio

GIVING

The story begins, "Who ever heard of a violin-playing egg?" Well, I don't recall anyone ever declaring that eggs do NOT play violins. 

Humpty Dumpty was born deaf (no ears!), yet his dream was to be a concert violinist, to bring sounds of heaven to listeners, to lift people from doldrums of everyday life to a higher level of enjoyment, appreciation, meaning.  

Playing the violin looked easy. So Hump attended a symphony concert and sat in the front row by violin section and watched carefully. Then he bought a violin and bow. Hump (nickname) practiced all week what he'd seen, and it was good. 

Thousands of people rode to his estate, and after hearing him "play",  exclaimed he had technique and sound of Itzhak Perlman. He played always the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto--perfectly. Nobody needed lessons. HA!

One day, tired from rolling around the lawns, he sat on a wall to rest a bit. As history was being compiled, Hump fell off the wall, was being strewn about, broken into many pieces.

Investigating Detectives wondered at what they later found in his home--a violin bow, its hairs soaked with greasy soap--so Hump, in silence, could appear as if he were playing. But "No-ears" Hump was only making the motions. Nearby was his music center, a DVD playing LOUDLY the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto by soloist Itzhak Perlman--

Forever after, audiences refused to believe that Hump had not been making the music, kept insisting that Hump (who faked it with a greasy bow and never played a note in his life) played violin far better than Itzhak could ever dream of playing.

--Steve E

NOTE:  "TAKING" (Part 2 of Giving and Taking) will be posted in a couple days...please come back for it--you won't be sorry

MARIA (and the art of violin playing)

The following actually happened to me about 15 years ago while "entertaining" in the Alzheimer's Center of a Naples, Florida Retirement Community  

Google Images (Sorry, Cannot find attribution)

MARIA

Only her pale breathing told of life. 

A very old--but not aged--

beautiful head permanently bent

had closed completely that space 

between eyebrows and breast

Belted in a chair with wheels, 

she no longer sensed 

what, where, how, when, or why.

Communication to or from her brain

might have been evermore lost.

I knelt on carpeted floor, 

arranged myself so to gaze 

into her face. Nothing there. 

Talent with which I'd been blessed,

I felt a strong need to share.

An aide said, "Take your violin and play

for those who can hear, enjoy, rather than

one locked away inside herself forever."

Truth is, I lost the strength to raise 

myself up from carpeted floor.

The room hushed! Softly and slowly I played a

sweetest Ave Maria--Holy Mary!

Sitting on that carpeted floor,

I looked (up) into those now-blue eyes 

and caught the beginnings of a smile.

While playing, I stared and smiled at her. 

Tears began to flow, hers and mine...onto thick carpet. 

Later someone told me that she had not responded 

to ANYTHING or anybody for many days.

She began to finger her gold-chained cross

It was a God day which I shall NEVER forget.

Steve E

2014

Starry Nights - Mag 234

Please check: http://magpietales.blogspot.com

Starry Night by Alex Ruiz

Artist, in field 

stood, as if affixed.

About to devote, yield

himself to posterity. 

So alone, he mused...

Forever it seemed, I

lived in reality

only to at last "see"--

and this night--

faced the Universe...

Truth 

Great circles of reality

lived always nowhere else...

but within my soul, my self. 

While I'd been looking out,

yes, apart, away from--

Now I am a part OF 

all which ever created.

This scene I MUST show

to my brother Theo,

(named for "God" Who lives.)

("But HOW?"

 "Paint, man! PAINT!")

In manner described as Starry Night--

He oil-spread circularity Eternity,

ALL being such colorful ONE.

Beauty Unbelievable

for you and me akin

for truth within.

--steveroni 

SPECIAL ANNIVERSARY JULY 2015

NOTE: The following are my thoughts and writing, pure 

and simple.  IN NO WAY do I speak or pretend to speak 

for the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous.  Steve E.

ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

July 2, 3, 4, 5, 2015

"Why do night-lights 
shining like stars?
Maybe...'cause they are!"
--fiddlemn

June 10, 1935, a man named Bill waited for the other--his host--to return from a long day away.  

It was hot.  

Hoped Dr Bob's return wouldn't become a drunken scene.  

It did not.  

Earlier that morning in Akron Ohio, Dr Bob had his last final drink of alcohol, then went around town taking care of business.  

As time--and years--passed, this began to be recognized as the birthday of Alcoholics Anonymous.  So, we now "see" two men who--not long before, were helpless, hopeless alcoholics-- found that by helping each other, they could stay sober.  One thing true then...and true today, the only way they could live productive and happy lives, was to help another--others--by giving away the gift they'd received

They sought alcoholics ("Alkies") who had an honest desire to stay sober.  More years, amazing growth, a God-Spirit-inspired book (Alcoholics Anonymous) brought me (and you readers) here--now.

God willing, in July 2015, approximately 80,000 people will descend on Atlanta, Georgia from all the world.  AA is found in 170 of the nearly 200 independent countries around the globe.  On the final day, between 100-150 of those countries will be honored and represented by recovering alcoholics, carrying the flag of their homeland.  All across the stage they will proudly stand --and I will be there to take a selfie, with THAT background!! HA!

It'll BE Alcoholics Anonymous 80th Anniversary celebration! 
PEACE and LIGHT...and LOVE, all my friends.
Steve E

FRIENDS

 Don D and Steve E with 

first Motor Scooter 1949

Photo by Norma (Mother!)

God sends me friends,

unseparated Parts of Himself

to share, to care,

(and I was told)

to be aware.

Human nuggets, pure gold,

not for shelf-keeping,

dusting, burnishing

now, then, and when...

Precious souls!

Friends, God's bestowal,

carefully held in my heart

cherished, loved,

more, more, and more.

...as slowly older I grow

--steveroni

August 2014

FLY BIRD

Photo 

FLY BIRD

Fly little bird,

Fly with the wind.

(Quoted) "if you don't,

you have sinned."

Wind is the law

And the law is just...

So...as winds blow

Must you also go?

Fly on silver wing,

and one fine day in

powder-blue sky, 

when other you meet, 

together you'll sing! 

Fly sweet birds, where

Winds have not chose--

Then as you oppose,

Have you surely sinned?

INTO the wind, YES! 

Fly if you must

Because you truly,

Completely trust...

At last overcome by

Wonderful wonders of love.

Cavort on the beaches,

But one time gaze above

At white dove.

Which will be...

Me

--steveroni

rev. 8/9/2014

NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH

LET THERE BE PEACE

THE 'HOOD

In unison steps 

and rhythmical stride

Morning, noon, and night, 

small armies of six or eight, 

washed shirts starched--

marching

I shudder, thinking

the awesome power--

spirituality emanating

seamlessly, seemingly

from several clusters

of little soldiers 

stepping in cadence

over heated pavements

..2..3..4..HUT!

Each few along the way

a parasoled officer leads,

perspiring in heat on concrete...

onward to grandmother's house,

where no enemy waits to meet.

Pushing, pulling 

wagons, baskets, buggies.

Groups of little ones

follow in filed rank, 

those taller. 

At head of all,

a "general" carries 

"wounded" young vet.

...and of that general?

why, it's none other than

she, who they all call "Mother!"

NOTE:  People who have moved here from other countries 

astonish me with their loyalty, devotion, togetherness

and friendliness. Whole extended families tread the

 sidewalks mornings and evenings and smile happily.

--steveroni

MEMORY--OH! WHERE YOU GO?

DREAMS

Dreams borrowed from god of night,

next day trying in vain to recall

so to excite with my pondered write

Straining to replace what's melted away:

Inspiration

perspiration

Respiration

might they together "save the day"

OR....

Wheels of my mind...HALT!

STOP! in your suddenly meshing grind

In frozen moment, press Shift, Control, Alt...

realize what was lost was not mine.

Allowing thoughts of serene peace and love

to silently meet with me at the first of light.

--Smiles

--steveroni

07/15/2014

I performed a Google "image search", could not find source...

MAG #227 The LATE PRIEST

From Magpie Tales

THE PRIEST WHO CAME LATE TO MASS

In old church I prayed, sitting solemn on my ass

Young man came in...reflected in the glass

Walking--in a hurry

Holding something furry

Said, "Please take this kitty, while I offer mass..."

--Steve E

Posted for Magpie Tales

Please say, "HE LED A COLORFUL LIFE"...

IMAGE: Photographer Marcy Purdy

The Fiddler 

Hans Christian Andersen

In the little town there is much festivity:
they are holding a wedding there with dance and play.
To the happy man, the wine sparkles so red;
but the bride looks like whitewashed death.

Yes, dead she is to him whom she cannot forget;
he is at the feast but not as the bridegroom.
He stands among the guests at the inn,
stroking his fiddle cheerily enough.

He strokes his fiddle, his hair turning grey.
The strings resound: shrill and loud;
he presses it to his heart, paying no heed
whether it breaks into a thousand pieces.

It is quite hideous when one dies this way,
his heart young and still striving for joy.
I cannot and will not watch any longer!
It will make my head spin.

Who are you, with your fingers pointing at me?
O God - graciously protect us
from the madness that may overwhelm us.
For I am myself a poor musician.

--HCA

WANNA HEAR SOME FIDDLIN'

nothing I can say about 

this "Piano Quartet"... 

except to leave you with a 

link to click

STORY IN TEN WORDS

remember when

kitty said

mew, mew, mew?

now, it's

MEEEYOWWWW!

--steveroni

IMAGE

A LOVE LIFE

Thania Sayne leans on the headstone of her husband 
 day before their wedding anniversary on 16 Oct 2013 

GRIEVING LOVE

Before, during,
after fame

did love's flame

keep on burning,

never adjourning?

once I,

loved by lovely artist

who traveled every place

on our globe,

dancing
on her toes

now....

oh! I miss her face

god, I miss her so...

not secret our love,

nor for show

remember we,

strong trees?

side-by-side,
tall we stood,

roots weaved

but never tied?

and I took leave

and died?

oh! hurting heart,

you cried.

we met--before fame.

even during, next--
how persistently flame

continued to burn.

truest of loves

has no adjourn...

our one anticipation

to meet, greet,

on street or shore

 "quoth the Raven,
'Nevermore!'"*

our enscription:

"forevermore"

--steveroni

Published Sep 2013

Rewritten Apr 13 2014

*Edgar Poe, THE RAVEN

READY...SET...GO

Sail Away --by elvengaard

Summer 1966 

Dear *****

Kurt was my "Sunday Morning" bartender. Sign, posted out front of Dusty's Red Barn in Naples Florida, read "LAST CHANCE for ALCOHOL until MIAMI".  Yes...I stood in line with others who also had--on Saturday--miscalulated their liquor inventory. 

Kurt's body was adorned with muscles as a holiday tree with ornaments and lights. He WAS one muscle. In an earlier life he caught his wife night-after-night. He, high up on small swing--she, even higher, flying through the air. High-wire circus performers who retired to Naples.

Originally from Sweden, Kurt and his wife loved sailing, and partying so much that I figured about all Swedes did was sail, drink, and fly high under a tent.

Kurt and I became friends, we both drank a lot. However, when Kurt would stop for the day--or night--I'd keep drinking until, well...until somehow, chaos entered the room. In minutes, I fantasized hell into a bright, shining goal instead of a death-dread.

Kurt owned a 36-foot wooden-hulled single masted sailboat, which I loved from afar.  At his invitation to go sailing without wives for a week, I said "YESSSSS!!!"
Reluctantly, of course--grin! 

Preparations included 5 gallon gasoline for the small auxiliary motor, 12 cases of beer and 1½ cases Early Times Bourbon. It was a compromise. Kurt believed one case to be sufficient, I wanted two cases on board, ya never know.  In my small "personal" case, I hid 3 quarts of vodka--to be on the safe side. I remember some water, lots of ice, and a case of Cola for Kurt. Also some food, about which I remember little.

(So many cases of beer--because if we should run out of water or ice, shrimpers at sea would trade for beer--boy, were they a rough, crude, bunch. Whoo!) Since it was I who clambered aboard the larger boats, made the exchanges, I recall my fears of indiscriminate bodily harm. 
Involving sharks, naturally--grin!
I had never seen much sense in beer drinking. It is mostly water, I figured.  In fact it was beer with which I watered geraniums. They were forever wilted. Always thirsty, I guess...

One weekday morning at 10 AM we set out, a lone boat in Naples Bay, even more alone out in the Gulf of Mexico. My first real "sail" adventure about to begin.

--steveroni

Part 2 will follow in couple days

Awakening Day

3 Dolphins

Day had just awakened.

Darkness blinked once in

barely discerned burst of first-light

as it were--and I, being snapped

in flash-photo darkness.

Oh! The feeling...the sight!

Miles stretched each way

From proud, quiet bay

To immensity of sea.

THIS! for one alone--me

To muse of rose-strewn heavens

nature's aroma beautifully joined

with numbered thousands

splashing, silvered minnows

In silent awe

I saw a dolphin

followed by two,

rising, falling in unison

sliding under, above

Happy! Free!

Home: the sea

Absorbed totally, insanely,

bird-songs gently pierced

my acoustic nerves.

Sweetest melody (sigh)

Not red blood, but JOY

flowed through my veins

Into my heart--ecstasy!

No words to express

Porpoises had stage front

"Here we are. SEE?"

These happenings

in near-silence.

All this caught my attention, as

earliest sights and nature sounds

brought me to a great reality:

Today, I have not had a drink. 

Neither had I to think

about it.

Thus, another day,

another day awake!

Mine: in aquiescence,

wait for God's next move--

in my life...and yours!

--steveroni

Originally published in "steveroni" blog,
October 2010 as THE SEA...AND ME.
Now rewritten.