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Posts from the ‘SPOKEN WORD’ Category

21
May

CELESTIAL ORCHESTRATIONS performed by the Author: SCOTT UTLEY

I once witnessed

A brilliant galaxy platinum

Abruptly vanish

Into a hovering cloud

Of dense

Black erotic

*

I saw a stunning world

Hanging on a mid-night sky

Like a black pearl

In the world

Just as ravishing

As our very own cobalt orb

Explode

Into self-red flames

Then stop to exist

*

I was once

A butterfly who loves

To dance in circles

To the beat of the sun

*

I’ve been charmed

By the ruby-red eyes

Of dusk ?? s

Swollen sky

*

Suspended

Mesmerized

I’ve been hypnotized

By defiant stars

Pelting Hercules ?? sky

Over an Aegean Sea

*

A baby

Opens her eyes

For the very first time

And the Universe is born

Once again

*
Indeed
Every face

Is the face of God

The lovely face of God

*
But
Never
Have I ever
Laid eyes
We are so beautiful
As you
19
May

BENAZIR BHUTTO

 

The great spirit warriors are gathered together on the ether in this moment. The whispers are heavy. The vibe does not bode well for Muhammad’s beast-masters. The Holy ones speak with each other & to The Great Muhammad, himself. He is devastated.

BENAZIR BHUTTO

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—– IF THIS HAD BEEN A REAL EMERGENCY    ——-

 

STELLA: Blanch, darling, another mint? I feel faint …. feel this. Feel my left breast. It’s not normal, is it? Is it?  

BLANCH: I can’t feel anything.

BLANCH: How would you know anyway? Poor dear. I did not mean it like that.

—- WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES  —-

STELLA: It isn’t enough to be soft. You’ve got to be soft and attractive. And I- I’m fading now! – Have you been listening to me ?  

BLANCH: I never listen to you when you are being morbid!

بلینچ [ایک غیر معمولی جلدی میں]: میں نے آپ کو ایسی چیزوں سے نہیں پوچھا جو آپ نے شاید سوچا کہ میں پوچھ رہا تھا. اور اس طرح میں آپ کو اس بات کے بارے میں توقع کروں گا کہ مجھے آپ کو کیا کہنا ہے .——— اپنا سکور مت کرو —————– DO آپ کے سکینر کی ضرورت نہیں ہے —————– اپنے سکین کو متفق نہ کریں —————– اپنا سکین نہیں بنانا – ————— اپنے سکین کو مضبوط نہ کرو —————— اپنا سکین نہیں بنانا ——– ——— اپنے سکین کو مضبوط نہ کرو —————– اپنا سکین نہیں بنانا ————– — آپ کے اسکرین کو مضبوط نہیں کرتے ————–

—— DON’T TOUCH YOUR DIAL ——

—— DO NOT TOUCH YOUR DIAL ——- 

STELLA: And when he comes back I cry on his lap like a baby… [She smiles to herself.]

BLANCHE: I guess that is what is meant by being in love….
[Stella looks up with a radiant smile.]

STELLA: What?

bbb yuyyy

———    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  ——–

BLANCHE [in an uneasy rush]: I haven’t asked you the things you probably thought I was going to ask. And so I’ll expect you to be understanding about what I have to tell you.———    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  —————–    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  —————–    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  —————–    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  —————–    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  —————–    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  —————–    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  —————–    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  —————–    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  ————–

STELLA: What, Blanche? [Her face turns anxious.] 

BLANCHE: Well, Stella–you’re going to reproach me, I know that you’re bound to reproach me–but before you do–take into consideration–you left! I stayed and struggled! You came to New Orleans and looked out for yourself. I stayed at Belle Reve and tried to hold it together! I’m not meaning this in any reproachful way, but all the burden descended on my shoulders.

STELLA: The best I could do was make my own living, Blanche.
[Blanche begins to shake again with intensity.]

BLANCHE: I know, I know. But you are the one that abandoned Belle Reve, not I! I stayed and fought for it, bled for it, almost died for it!

FOUGHT FOR IT BLED FOR IT DIED FOR IT 

———  SORRY TO INTERRUPT THIS SHOW  ———–

 

STELLA: The Tarantula arms, That’s where I brought all my lovers. So many victims.

BLANCH: Gracious Stella!

bbb uuu

———  SORRY TO INTERRUPT THIS SHOW  ———–

Do not look. Ignore this. Go away. Go, go away. It is bad.

bbb gg

—– IF THIS HAD BEEN A REAL EMERGENCY  ——-

 

———–  DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  —————

ارے نہیں! پھر سے نہیں!

bbb ruju

 Flores por las muertes. Flores por las muertes. 

STELLA! STELLA!

——-    DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SCREEN  ———–

What is about to come forth from my pen is not in my power to halt. Another nail into the coffin of Islam. This must stop.

The great spirit warriors are gathered together on the ether in this moment. The whispers are heavy. The vibe does not bode well for Muhammad’s beast-masters. The Holy ones speak with each other & to The Great Muhammad, himself. He is devastated.

Jesus, Mary, Mother of God, doesn’t anybody speak love with a Muslim tongue? The only God there is, is God. God sings a joyful song. 

Hey you! Yeah, you!  You can heal this. Lay hands over our wounds. … The dark turned into black pitch of tarred souls unfed, when suddenly, ruby-rose fluorescent rays pierced the make-believe heavens. And then there was light

Flores por las muertes … Flores por las muertes …

bbb dddd

 

bbb  yuyyy.gif

Benazir Bhutto

Awarded 1989

The 1989 Freedom Prize was awarded to former Prime Minister of Pakistan, Benazir Bhutto. In December 1988 she was sworn in as prime Minister, becoming the first woman to head the government of an Islamic State. As leader of Pakistan’s opposition she was arrested on numerous occasions and spent nearly six years in prison or under detention. Her goal throughout her struggle was to transform Pakistani society by focusing attention on programs for health, social welfare, and education for the underprivileged. She received the Bruno Kreisky Award for Human Rights in 1988. Benazir Bhutto was born in Karachi in 1953, the daughter of one of Pakistan’s most popular Prime Ministers, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. Her father was overthrown by a military coup in 1974 and subsequently hanged after a short trail. Benazir and her mother were imprisoned.Some years later Bhutto became became extremely active in opposing the military dictatorship of General Zia ul Haq. In April 1985 she went into exile, but returned in 1986 as the charismatic leader of the Pakistan Peoples Party. The PPP won the elections in November 1988. In 1990 she was removed from power by presidential decree and defeated in the following elections but she returned to office from 1993 until 1996. On December 27, 2007 Benazir Bhutto was assassinated at a rally in Pakistan. She returned to her deeply divided homeland to reassume leadership of her party and to challenge the upcoming elections. The international community expressed great sadness as she was seen by many as a beacon of hope in an area of entrenched instability.

Image result for islam animated gif

http://benazirbhutto.com/index.html

19
May

MY PROPHET RISING

My prophet rises from snow white sands. He is cut & bruised with bloody hands. His metamorphosis is marked by purple flowering feathered wings immaculately conceived. He reaches into the eye of the sky & fondles memories from before my time, back when this river flowed with twice its heart & the sky more volatile with twice its strike. When this desert land was twice as young, He walked along these very skies now dusked across my mind like a churning holy electrical explosion. 

My prophet rises from the deep blue sea with gaping wounds for all to see. His metamorphosis is marked by the inhalation of deep & conscious breath. His yellow diamonds are draped upon his brawny chest strung side by side with cosmic thread. He is future, present & the past. He’s courage fed by fathers brave & mothers strong. They’ve taught him well, both right & wrong. This world unceasingly expands its view. With opened eyes & a child’s pride, He is my harness. I love this ride.

My Prophet rises. I am He. I’ve wept in pain but now I’m free. Upon this sand my heart is burned. There is so much I have to learn. My metamorphosis is marked by the song of my soul echoing through the cathedral of my mind. I know I am more than looks perceive. My well is full. I have no greed. Christ is here & surely bleeds. He is my lover. I am He.

 

 

19
May

IS IT ANY WONDER?

 

I was born of vapor rising from the hairline cracks of skyscrapers. I could fly before I could run. I could run before I could walk. I’ve seen the world in flames. I’ve heard my mother sobbing. I know your pain because I am an old man dying as I inhale the newborn’s breath. I am the wind that churns. I am a young bird weeping. I am the center of the hawk’s red eye. Is it any wonder why I cry so hard? Is it any wonder I laugh so loud? I am a towering tree. I am a shooting star. I’m the ocean I swim in, the mountains I climb, the lovers I’ve known, the light & the dark & the children at play. I am the song of souls singing this melody called life. Is it any wonder it’s been perfect from the start? I’ve always known how to sing, I simply forgot the song. I am old man speaking my borrowed wisdom to the universe. I am a songbird singing good morning to the night. I am its mother laughing all the way, every single day. Is it any wonder?

19
May

SHE’S MERCY – HE’S KIND

You’re my lady in waiting. I’m your man on the moon. I’m Magda. You’re Anjum. We’ve Indigo eyes. I’m Mosena. You’re Sallie. We’re two of a kind. You’re Marty. I’m Moses; We never chose love, it is love that chose us. We’re sisters & brothers, spiritual lovers … 

… I was an innocent in the time of the great plague. I survived while all of the giants raptured around me. I believe I was meant to live before and after the great deluge. I believe we were all meant to live before and after the rapture. The most merciful and kind were the first to go. Only the good die young. We’re still alive. Only the strong survive. It is the meek who shall inherit the earth.

Life is short but terribly eternal. Regardless the seconds or decades we are gifted with, the remaining moments of our journey will be mercy and kindness incarnate. We are sisters and brothers. We’re opened windows without any walls. If one of us trips, all of us fall.

 

19
May

G-D IS THE GENIUS IN YOU

F-BOOK POST & REPLY; AUGUST 15, 2017 LA CA USA:

DEBBIE GUILLIAM POSTED ON HER FACEBOOK PAGE AUGUST 14, 2017:

[For those of you who still have your parents in your lives: You are so blessed. But some of you are too blind to realize how precious time is & that your parents won’t be around forever. You should really try to be patient with your parents so that you can enjoy their final years with them because once both your parents are gone. they won’t be back.  You will not be able to make up those days you choose not to spend with them. Since I lost both my parents I feel like I have nobody. Sometimes I wish G-d would call me home because my heart feels so empty anymore. Nobody in the family really talks to me …  or Ronda Wade.. We pretty much have just each other, our husbands and our kids (when they feel like being around us), otherwise most of our family wrote us off when we were little tiny girls except for a few loving family members.]

  

DEBBIE GUILLIAM: G-D MUST BE MISSING AN ANGEL, BECAUSE YOUR POST IS MORE VALUABLE THAN ALL THE TEA IN CHINA. IF YOU DO NOT BELIEVE ME, ASK MY FRIEND, GONG LI.

GONG LI 8 5 2017 SU LA CA USA # 2

龚:哦,是的,拜拜,你的内在价值只不过是你给我们这个世界的这个帖子。

SCOTT:MS。李,你为什么这么说?

龚:从我的个人经验

SCOTT:你能澄清一下吗?

龚:是的,我能和我会的。它让我很愉快在我的生命中,在这个地方,我被提出来,事实上,要祝福你的母亲和父亲;传统,延伸,已经来广告的tyhose也。这是我们在中国农村的方式,而不是在大城市。可悲的是,没有任何地方。

*SCOTT:你相信人道主义可以回到那个ekder的地位吗?

龚:当然。

SCOTT:尊敬你的母亲和父亲。这些都是有用的话。他们必须从字面上看吗?

 

龚:Nothimg应该毫无沉思地乱丢。你可以推断这个“说”意味着更多甚至更少。总的来说,我相信这是一个比喻,尊重所有来到我们面前的人,而且,听从我们老人所说的一切话,都是一丝不苟的,这是一个很大的一部分。路径。你不明白我吗

SCOTT:李议员,我做。我完全不清楚,因为哟普遍这样说。感谢您的时间。我们所有的appprecaite,你非常非常非常。

龚:谢谢,你可以永远回想起祝福。

 

mit h

GONG: Oh, yes.Debbie, your intrinsic value is only surpast by this post you gave our world.

SCOTT: MS. LI,, why do you say that?

GONG: From my personal experience.

SCOTT: Can you, will you clarify that statement?

GONG: Yes, I can and I will. It pleases me much. In my life and in the place were I was raised, it was matter of fact to honer your mother and father; traditio, by extension, tyhose who have come ad passed away also. This is our way in rural China, not so much in the great cities. Sadly, not so much anywhere.

SCOTT: Do you believe that humaniyty can return to that state of being where the ekders are repected?

GONG: Of course.

SCOTT: Honor thy mother and father. These are beautiful words. Must they be taken literally?

GONG: Nothimg should be litterally taken without contemplation. You may extrapolate this “saying” to mean much more or even much less. In general though, I believe it is a metaphor for honoring all those who come before us..By doingso, and listening to what our elders have to say, with all thier wisdom, is a great part along the way to fufilling our own true path. Do you undstand me?

SCOTT: MS LI, I do. I undersatnd comletely with clarity because yopu speak that way. Thank you for your time. We all appprecaite and you so very, very much.

GONG: Thank you, and may you always remain blessed.

TITLE PHOTO: MA SHIVAMAYI ACHARYA:

 

18
May

RING OF FIRE

I walk briskly at first. Shuffling sacred boulders between each foot.
I teeter on the edge of humanity. 
I skirt  the jagged precipice of earth’s flaming lips. 
I am stunned by this porcelain cup brimming over with exquisite insanity;
a wondrous mathematical equation…
all of earth’s treasures scattered before me. 
I jump high-I rise-sail and I soar up and over,
down south into the west over & over, under again, about-face
I jump a high-dive I skydive into the heart of our miraculous,
breathtaking mothership. 
I am a skimming stone on a great pond 
we call the ring of fire .
 I am a skimming stone on a great pond,we call the ring of fire 
1
May

ELECTRA

If you touch me now,  you will electrocute the both of us. I am highly charged. You are gifted with devouring receptivity. The hair along the arc of my forearms stand tall as devoted warriors do. Goosebumps from solar flares tinge the organ covering my being. I feel chill although it’ is 110 in the shade. My body takes a high dive into the center of your heavenly eyes. I ascend, then glide into the nexus of a perfect tear; a black pearl choosing its own path under the emerald eyes of an enchantress. I fall free empty-handed. I’m stripped bare to the core of my being. With perfect faith in your perfect love, I land heart first onto your wonder world. The truth of your love amazes me. I am speechless. I am stunned.

29
Apr

MEMORY of YOUR FACE

 

Burnt onto the pages of my ancient history,

is the story of our love;

a spiritual decree.

Penned onto the memory of my simple,

fleeting life,

is the epic of our union,

quite beautifully described.

I am stunned by the depth of your soul.

Shall I be forever mystified?

And this evening,

brazenly confetti’d up on a Hollywood freeway overpass,

I saw your initials set upon a fractured heart.

While my soul bleeds adoration in silence,

I wonder if this is love’s crucifixion?

Is this the way Mary felt in the garden?

An answer is of no consequence,

for what I shall remember long after I have died,

is the memory of your face, 

indelibly inscribed.

 

 

29
Apr

FANTASTIC DANCE

His ascension came twenty-one days to the day he left his beautiful body. A silhouette was all that we could define through the sun drenched smile he wore. It is impossible to mistake his world-class smile for that of any other. A starlight flurry of goodness blotted out the pain of our broken hearts just as dawn galloped in.

We told each other later that we had witnessed a chariot of gold sutured with platinum thread; a glistening chassis beriched beyond conception with spinning, light-bolted studs & each masterpiece capped with an astonishing precious gem. Some jewels were not of this world. Some jewels were not even of this universe… such magnificence as none of us had ever seen nor would ever see again… a true sweet chariot of the gods propelled by the holy willed power of four & twenty black maned stallions of equal majesty. They pulled the suns & moons from galaxies nearest our own across a royal blue-blooded, yoke-tinged, cobra-laced sky.

Our souls, bedazzled & breathless, reflexively thrust an ovation onto the astrolabe of dawn. Only delicate golden orioles could be heard singing good morning to this beautiful day. Alex preferred it this way. In a favorite past incarnation he was a Roman Augur, therefore his heart was rich with fondness for every winged being he ever knew.

Ruby red diamonds, yellows, blues & Tahitian black pearls from yet another sweet time & place rained upon everyone~ pulsing unified code~surfing crazy shiny-mind waves of Mother Milky Way. Their mirrors reflected wondrous images. Among them were holy men washing the feet of beggar men & the women who keep the fires burning dancing a fantastic dance, millions of them & more but numbers do not go up that high, especially where numbers don’t count at all.

There were many women dancing a fantastic dance. I was reminded of the Black ladies who sing the gospels; from the hips, hands to the sky, left then right; a supplication out to front then down to the ground and over again.. There were smiles everywhere & love, joy & more joy. If you could get close enough to these mahogany ladies you’d find that there is a lot of space & a great freedom around each one, yet from a distance they look packed together moving in unison; perfect choreography like a water dance; up, down, left, right & happy. Did I mention happy?

This must be the part of heaven God has reserved for poets, from the first poet to the last, from infant poets to great ancient oracles. Everything alive & electrical is heading the same way. Everyone loving the same because love moves in the same direction as our galaxy & the cosmos. It must be the joy of the spiral, from helical strands of DNA to the great spiraling universes. It is a perpetual blossoming. It makes a happy sound. Our nature is a happy sound. Laughter. Smiles. It is a great way to live. It would be a wonderful way to die if there was such a thing as death.

Alex smiled his way throughout the universe just as he had done throughout our lives. He never cared for anything in the world but pure love. God loved him for that. We all did. We all do. More than anything else, more than his mind-blowing mastery of numerous forms of art & branches of science, Alex Johns was a great poet. They say the same about saints who come to visit us. The love of great poets defies profound. Such purity of soul makes you want to cry. I don’t know why they bother with us unless it is because they love us so much… as much as we love them.

ALEXANDER M JOHNS

1966-2010
29
Apr

HARP OF THE GODS

If you’re mystic, come this way & play for me.

Tune your strings sharp & clear with all the  pressure I can bare.

If you’re mystic, stroke my hair, kiss my lips.

Take me to your Mother -ship. 

Rifle me with your tough grip.

Anchor me to your bright blue. 

Show  myself to me through you.

Your platinum strings ring clear and true.

Play your harp, this is your cue.

I know you’re mystic, I am too.

Let me play my harp for you.


sco kyf u tufy olyg

 

 

 

 

 

28
Apr

EDGE OF THE WORLD

I followed the song of the nightingale through the forest to the edge of my mind. I remembered to cut lilacs from the bank of the creek as I raced to the place we first met. The Muses found me naked singing lullabies to shooting stars over a blue harvest moon. Fearful for my sanity, they summoned the Elder Blue Sprytes  & Green Wood Elves; all very odd creatures revered for their great healing powers. Do you remember the cliffs of desire where we first met at the edge of the world near the temple of the heart where a forgiving ocean meets the grateful sky? Do you remember Frey, the golden bear who wished us well?  

The Elder Blue Sprytes were certain I must be either crazy or insane from hunger so they fed me cherry blossoms. They were trying to distract me with fantasies from the other side of time. The Green Wood Elves insisted I was a sign from the great source of our belonging. They proudly displayed their magic to me. They showed me how they had learnt  to make stars sing. I had never heard a true symphony until that day. They taught me how to expand my heart beyond what I had believed was it’s ultimate frontier. They showed me how they weave their magic spells with hope I might finally free myself from the ghosts  of my past & the image of you when we first met. I could never let that happen. Sometimes Green Wood Elves can be so naive. 

I love this cliff near the den of the bear where the sky drinks the sea & mountains stand tall at the edge of my mind where we bathed in an ocean of forgiveness. That was 10,000 years ago but here I still stand. The Western Wind says you will be home soon. I knew you would return. Hurry. My whole world is waiting for you. I am still holding lilacs too.

          
28
Apr

PER ELISA

 

I am sitting on a filthy floor in an emptied room in front of a fireplace that has never seen a true fire. I survey the battlefield before me. I silently marvel at the accumulated detritus of three years worth of grief. For a flicker of a moment I think this is not the war I fought. The war here is so much bigger & far more brutal than the lonely war I fought. A moment passes backwards until I remember this is the place & I am the lone survivor. Below me is the exalted grave of a spiritual warrior.

I wonder at the emotions & the crack-hearted questions splattered all over these wounded walls. There is blood on the floor leading into a darkened hallway. I thought I knew where that hallway lead to but I don’t remember now.  As hard as I try to recall, all I see is a blank screen. I am a television turned to mute with thunderous static. If I were not deaf I would go completely insane. The channel I am looking for has been moved to another world where I do not get the signal.

I vaguely recall a man’s heart dripping a trail of tears; tears of blood from a shattered heart. That is what these stains in my eyes are. I see that much. I remember that much. I remember a man squatting in the corner of this room, his eyes shut blind & his ears with no sound to hear. He looks like me. I turn my head away as fast as I can. In that moment I am afraid.  I am almost too frightened to breathe, but not afraid enough not to cry. It passes. The moment passes into eternity.

In the next moment, war is over. I am alive. I am crippled, but I’m not lame. I have been forever scarred by razor blades deeply etched into my soul’s flesh, but now I hear a song. War is over. I hear music even when it isn’t playing. I know I shall sing again.

This is a bittersweet farewell. I see these snapshots of your mind & I wonder why I even wondered how this debris on these walls and that floor ever came to be. I don’t remember now. Thank you for taking my mind to a different sort of landscape. These soul creatures are quite beautiful. The ones you have sent to cover my heart in winter. You are the most kind. 

You of the many muses remind me that all I have to do is turn the television off. It is as simple as that. That is what I have just done. I hadn’t noticed that the songbirds outside my window are singing as if their lives depended on it. They are so happy to be alive. That must be why they sing as they do.

I suddenly feel like humming a tune. PER ELISA. You loved PER ELISA but you never told me that. I only know it because I saw you in a window early one morning dancing your heart out to PER ELISA. I had to smile. Alicia sings like an angel from inner space. She came to us from the peerless library of our dear friend, Marty Lont, in Amsterdam. Remember? I know you do. I also remember, it is the simple things that matter most. Farewell my beloved. I will sing for the both of us until we meet again.

 

 

 
26
Apr

THE SKY GOES ON FOREVER

 

In this dream, I am falling free without fear. Suddenly, my descent is intercepted by swift moving clouds. Each one has a distinct face yet they all share the same radiant smile. They carry me along for thousands of miles, pointing out strange and wonderful lands. The spectacular sight below of fantastic creatures roaming free upon a paradise found makes my heart tremble like fine rice paper. In this super world unfolding, predators are never triumphant because predators are never born. Without warning, the cloud faces are gone. I continue gliding along the path of the rising sun in the company of a thousand golden eagles. I soar around our mother earth sailing effortlessly on a grand solar wind in the company of a thousand beautifully plumed golden eagles, and the sky goes on forever.

 

 

25
Apr

MY NAME IS PROPHET

My name is ‘Prophet’ but they call me, ‘Hey, you!’ I am a penniless drifter shod poorly. I’m diseased & despised. I sing for a seat near the hall down the path to the shed used by swine. I’m gleeful with joy for any place to dine. Crafty by circumstance, I am blessed with a spark of divine mind. I trade hope for shelter. I barter truth for a comfortable lie. I feel privileged, indeed, honored to share my most cherished possession with whatever lurking beast or saint there may come a knocking on the door of my rice paper heart. The possession I speak of is my inner light, my love; the most powerful force in the universe. More often than not I possess neither food nor shelter but light has never me down. My huckster mind tries to convince me otherwise yet to the joker inside my skull I say, “Shyster thoughts be damned!” Belief does not make an invidious fantasy real. Those evenings I am cold, angry, lonely, rejected & filled with remorse for coming to this place in the first place are the very same evenings I forget to be grateful. On these occasions nights crawl painfully slow to that trickster called dawn. What I lack in essentials I make up for in wisdom. Vagabond wisdom is priceless so I give it away for free. I must. Like my father before me I stand hunchbacked, just as his father before him. My deformed stoop is the result of an incalculable weight I carry upon my shoulders. Sometimes I wonder if being born deformed & senseless is easier to bear than this weight, this soul numbing weight. I fear the worst should I stumble or fall. I fear for the innocents striding between land & cobalt blue seas. When I fear it is because I’ve abandoned gratitude. Sometimes my unbridled dejection paralyzes my connection to god. It is easiest then to dismiss divine light as a dreamer’s hallucinations run amok. And I do. Yes, I do. I dismiss like a diva.

 

 

 

 

 

 

24
Apr

Fire Island Pines: On The Pulse of The Morning

My eyes hold their place amongst the wreckage of my face. I’m thinking, one more cocktail with this blue-eyed slab, (paid for twice over, but never to be owned), will not subdue the bestial morning’s sadistic appetite. The secret is out; Fire Island tragedies are lurking under star-crossed pines in paradise. My eyes are held in place midst the wreckage of my face by shear will. I think, perhaps one more cocktail with this blue-eyed slab paid for twice over, but never to be owned, will obliterate a debauched morning hangover. What about an aspirin or a bloody Mary? Maybe if I take a dive into the raging blue Atlantic waters of forget me nows, my sins will be erased along with yesterday and my inhuman slurs and beat you down puns. Even if the divine in divine mind could muster mercy for my soul, yes, even if I acquiesce and bow to their Latin liturgies, and I finally see that all my prescriptions are merely the fleeting tonics of a foolish mind, I will never find repose. Consequently, (I will not deny this) a loaded Colt 45’s horsepower is my medicine of choice. What other elixir will suffice when you wake early on a brand new day and your mirror is exclaiming, “You’re old, decrepit, and to boot you’re gay? These are but the rage-dreams of a narcissist’s self-absorbed preoccupation.

In ephemeral brevity, my spirits rise high as the sun glides its way into mid-day. I take a second look at that man in the mirror I know as me. I think the history of my face and the fractured emerald matrix of my eyes look familiar to me. I confront myself. Are you ancient splendor garbed in hues of wisdom’s wonders? Or are you a masked imposter stoking a Fire Island tragedy lurking under star-crossed pines? My eyes hold their place amongst the wreckage of my face. I’m a silly man. I think I look dashing as my life and times and face decay. I think, “Oh, what’s another cocktail, or a line of coke or two, with this blue-eyed prince of a man; paid for twice over?” The fine print says ‘on loan, never to be owned.’ Nowhere does the contract state ‘this stud, despite his sublime stature cannot subdue another debauched mornings’ hangover revenge.’

On Fire Island, ghosts lurk scarecrow, screw-faced under littered dreams. Theirs is an insatiable hunger for any soul so predisposed to join their twisted spirits in a ritual of howls. Paradise Lost Paradise Found Over The Rainbow Smashed To The Ground. My eyes hold their place amongst the wreckage of my face as I slowly turn to ashes. Please, just one more cocktail with you, my beloved, blue-eyed Aphrodite! I’ve handsomely paid for you twice over, could you love me for any fee? No. Not he or any living mortal can subdue this debauched morning hangover. Finally, I take yet another look at that man in the mirror I know as me. I think the history of my face and the fractured emerald matrix of my eyes look familiar to me. I confront myself. Are you ancient splendor garbed in hues of wisdom’s wonders? Or are you a masked imposter stoking a Fire Island tragedy lurking under star-crossed pines?

My eyes hold their place amongst the wreckage of my face. I think, one more cocktail with this blue-eyed slab, paid for twice over, but never to be owned, leased but never mine for evermore, will not change the fact that no mere mortal will ever subdue my demoralized mornings spent between heaven and hell. You see, here on Fire Island, ghosts lurk screw-faced under star-crossed pines howling without sound

24
Apr

TRAGEDIES OF GRANDEUR ON THE HIGH SEAS

THE UNSINKABLE TITANIC ON HER FIRST VOYAGE:  

LIVERPOOL TO NEW YORK CITY

dddd hhy

 

The TITANIC struck an iceberg on April the 14 of 1912 at 11:40 PM and sank a few hours later. It was early morning of April 15, 1912. They were four days out to sea on their way to New YorK City.

UTLEY COAT OF ARMS

utley coat of

The UTLEY lineage begins with (documentation secured) William the Bastard, the fist Norman King of England , with his marriage to Matilda of Flanders,  May 20, 1058. This is when the parish of UTLEY was founded; a  gorgeous piece of land just a stone’s throw away from what is now the city of Leeds, Yorkshire, England. Even now, nearly one thousand years later, UTLEY parish remains barely unchanged in architecture or attitudes of its brilliant offspring. All men and women of UTLEY are above average.

THOMAS UTLEY & SONS

The UTLEYS were one of the leading maritime brass founders in the world, having also produced sidelights for Lusitania and Mauretania. They made many of the brass fittings for the Titanic and Olympic. These included the Titanic’s bells and Gothic patterned windows for the ship’s bars and dining rooms.

titanic dd

Utley Family Crest, Coat of Arms

lou

The disasters of the RMS Titanic and the RMS Lusitania were two of the greatest maritime tragedies of their era.

lou

They were all too similar in scale and loss – the Harland & Wolff, Belfast-built Titanic sinking on its maiden voyage in April of 1912, after colliding with an iceberg in the frigid waters of the Atlantic ocean en route from its final port of call in Queenstown (now Cobh, Co. Cork) to New York. One thousand, five hundred and twenty-three of the 2,240 on board lost their lives, the confidence in one of the grandest ships ever built shattered.

titanic io

tit sin

Titanic’s bells and Gothic patterned windows for the ship’s bars and dining rooms. 

titanic_casting_pattern

I know Utley women who speak of premonitions. They even bank on them.  I don’t bank on anything. I don’t trust banks. I do believe that there is great reason to trust our intuitive nature. For instance, Jane Utley, wife to Thomas Utley, declined, and coaxed her husband to decline a first class luxury cabin aboard the maiden voyage of the Titanic due to premonitions of a catastrophic event she clearly saw involving the fate of the Titanic.  So much for a mythological UTLEY CURSE. Again, one more example of a misinformation rooted in fake news. I rest my case, except to say:

titan.gif

UTLEYS have been burned or hung in England (and probably in the early American colonies) for being witches. One documented example is Sarah Utley, hung 1620 in London. Mother Utley was the name her people called her. She was accused of witchcraft when all she really was guilty of was being a bit misunderstood. A Room with light is more than a match for darkness. 

utley wtces

The Utley women never speak about their clairvoyant powers. Perhaps because society associates premonitions, miracles, telepathic powers, etc., as demonic, satanic or of the dark occult; to be feared when it is just the opposite. It never ceases to amaze me. Almost everything we have been taught & think we know is really just the opposite.

NOT ACTUAL LIVE FOOTAGE OF TRAGEDY

tita ll.gif

titit

September 13, 1907:

Lusitania arriving in New York on her maiden voyage,

sailing past Battery Park.

lou lnl.Lusitania arriving in New York on her maiden voyage

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RMS_Lusitania

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RMS_Mauretania_(1906)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RMS_Olympic

 

21
Apr

TOPEKA ‘PREACHA

 

He says he loves Jesus and Jesus loves him.
He’s a modern day prophet forgiving your sins.
He’s a radio pirate with a cable show too,
A mistress in Paris, an eye out for you.

His brand of religion breeds heartbreak and pain.
He’s a born again Christian with something to gain.
Deceitfully convincing his flock of salvation,
In return he receives a standing ovation.

His glorious sermons preach schemes of division,
Exquisitely crafted to prevent any schism.
Triumphantly pitting his will against right,
He lusts after money & covets your wife.

An unnatural affection for boys under ten,
He’s drugged quite a few on his couch in the den.
He’s suspicious of women and fearful of men.
There’s a gun by his bed marked ‘specially’ for them.

He’s a beast. He’s a monster. It’s sad but it’s true.
His secret agenda keeps Jesus from you.
He’s afraid you’ll rise up if you find out the truth,
Afraid you’ll tip off your wife & your youth.

He’s a huckster, a shyster, and the devil disguised.
He’s a freak who insists only his god is wise.
This prince of invective is consumed by desire.
While preaching forgiveness he’s stoking his fire.

 

 

20
Apr

伯恩寫的 BURN IN MANDARIN by SCOTT UTLEY

 

 

遏制我的拯救靈魂

我的紙張在我所有的邊緣燃燒

你是我成為煙民

美國洛杉磯CA美國,2018年4月19日

 

13
Apr

MOON BEING

Part of my face is an immense crater. It is here I spend all my free time, sitting beside myself sipping tea on the lips of my cheek bones. I talk endlessly about your perfection; what a profound  defect of character that is. I then respond ad infinitum. We compare notes. We laugh, cry, and wistfully whine, sitting beside ourselves, sipping tea, watching you.

28
Mar

Wenn Ich Sterbe – Scott Utley – Translated By Claudia Beine

 

Eingebrannt in die Geschichte meiner Ahnen,

ist die Geschichte unserer Liebe; eine spirituelle Entscheidung.

Ganz wundervoll beschrieben ist das Epos unseres Bundes,

Niedergeschrieben in die Erinnerungen meines einfachen,

dahineilenden Lebens.

Ich bin betäubt von der Tiefe deiner Seele,

Werde ich für immer verwirrt bleiben?

Vollkommen zerstreut habe ich heute Abend,

auf einer Hollywood Autobahnüberführung,

deine Initialen in einem zerbrochenen Herzen gesehen.

Während meine Seele blutet in stiller Verehrung,

frage ich mich, ob diese Liebe einer Kreuzigung gleicht.

Ist es etwa so, wie Maria sich im Garten fühlte?

Keine Antwort ist die Folge.

Unauslöschlich eingemeißelt ist das Andenken an dein Gesicht,

woran ich mich noch erinnern werde, lange nachdem ich starb.

26
Mar

BRIGHT EYES

 

Although I can often quote the Bible. I have never read it. In case I ever do, don’t spoil the ending for me. Thank you in advance. Now, maybe you do not believe in God. Maybe God doesn’t care. Maybe, just maybe, God doesn’t believe in you. Think about that, why don’t you? 

It’s not like it makes a difference. How kind are you? Are you making every effort to be a better man or a better woman to our world. Are you a being who, when after you are gone, our planet will lovingly whisper to the western wind as she races past,, “I am happy they came. I am sad to see them go but I am happy they stayed as long as they did.”

Now you know the reason why clouds cry. The rains are tears of joy. Hmmm … how kind where you in your life? That will be the only question. That is all that will matter then. It is all that matters now. 

The upshot to this story is:  Trust your instincts & follow your heart. That is where God resides. Maybe you will rewrite the Bible or whatever other scriptures you hold close to your heart & by doing so, change our world for the better … or not … your worth as a living being was measured in full when you were born. Do nothing if that is your desire. That’s what I do. It may be your destiny. I hope it’s mine.

14
Mar

THANK YOU ~ DIDO

This beautiful parrot is native to the street I grew up on. A very rare and near extinct species, the Woodside Blue Headed Yellow Bellied Bliss Street Nut Eating Squawker Talker Parrot once roamed the entire borough of Queens, all the way from Long Island City to Far Rockaway, from the shores of Jamaica Bay to the dunes of Fire Island. Because of hunting by unknown suspects of the Second Court (THE MET’S SECOND BUILDING of FIVE on one very long block which includes 48-25 46th Street), along with glue-sniffing hippie pot farmers of Sunnyside, this lovely, once  ubiquitous (albeit obnoxious) parrot has been reduced to just a very small section of its former habitat. To be exact, the courtyard and fifth floor roof of 48-25 46th Street, Woodside, Queens, NYC, NY.

There are an estimated three left but the Bronx Zoo is leading the way in bringing this gorgeous nut eating bird back from the brink of extinction. (They think.) I happen to know two specimens are naturally homosexual males. Neither one shows any interest in conversion therapy. Researchers are enthralled. That very fact bodes well for the species. Researchers world wide believe that gay parents are the only parents worthy and smart enough, overflowing with enlightened compassion to save the universe. Good luck with that. If I had my druthers,  I would nuke the planet into sense. I don’t though. I would  never do such a thing. Perry Mason and Alfred Hitchcock make life worth living.

WOODSIDE SQUAWKERS DID NOT ALWAYS INHABIT THE ALLEYWAYS OF BLISS STREET
THEY HAVE THEIR ORIGINS IN AUSTRALIA WHERE THEY CONTINUE TO MULTIPLY LIKE RABBITS
12
Mar

COME PLAY MY GUITAR

 

I tossed and turned throughout the night. I felt something amiss, not quite right. Thunder rolled across black skies, lightning struck shut both my eyes. My bed lay shattered upon shards of glass. Clouds swirled by like comets, fast. I wondered if this night would pass? I prayed to God this would not last.

Take me away, my soul please spare this doubt, this pain, this noise I hear. This heavy night I cannot bear. What I can’t see is what I fear. When sunrise creeps into the day, what in G-d’s name will loved ones say?

Morning came, morning went, my body wracked, my spirit spent. The day turned into early eve while deep within my dreams did weave. Finally, my conscious broke into a world where flowers spoke. The life I’d known was all but gone. Rocks and trees sang sweet love songs.

I looked around for someone to share this miracle I swear I hear, someone to see the Robin’s egg jump up and dance upon the chair, someone to play that old guitar driving by in her yellow car. I realized then, it’s just me, alone again, just me who sees. I wiped the sweat clean from my brow. Who would believe me, anyhow?

8
Mar

WANDERING ALBATROSS

Throw caution to the wind. She knows what to do with it. Follow me. We’ll have fun playing under the desert sun. As you, I need to feel free. I am. That’s why I am so fond of you. I see me in you and love what I see. You have wings that never stop flapping. You are a great wandering royal albatross.

As dusk turns its cover,  the rising moon will extend an olive branch. It is a great honor for us. Grateful, bedazzled, with euphorica brimming over our trembling lips, we shall graciously accept. Over the oceanic river of our ineffable mind, a starry domed astrolabe will sparkle ovations. You have never seen anything like it. I promise you. Shooting stars from inner space circle thrice. They’ll then take their dive kissing heaven on the other side. We’ll watch holy coyotes yelping shouts, throw cactus darts at cunning hares. Life being lived without dark imagining is life being lived.

Have you ever met a kit fox? The last time I was there, it was a full moon past midnight, silence & solitude with no one anywhere in sight. Appearing from as if thin air, a kit fox trots a few meters ahead of my car. She just as mysteriously stops to stare at me with a smile. What a smile. What a night. Come this way, she beckoned me. I was enchanted. 

All along her pathway to surrender, she searched for specks of gold. Almighty God, she found plenty, too. Her mischievous smile seemed awfully bold for such a tiny thing. She, the kit fox; nothing at all but her luminous smile & two of the biggest ears you will ever see. She tripped me out. You’ll trip out too, I promise you. I promise, you won’t be afraid {as I am now}. I promise you, if you follow your heart’s desire, I’ll run away with you. I promise you. I can’t promise you tomorrow, but I can promise you that.

6
Mar

AQUILA

 

 

I am your mother. I make love to the moon.

You are a bird, downy-garbed, not yet ready to fly.

I drink the Earth’s tears each day I go high.

You’re wide-eyed, lovely and filled with questions ‘why.’

Partake of my wisdom, together, we shall kiss the sky.

 

 

3
Mar

HAWK & THE RAVEN

Full  moon silver frosted leaves, glacine dew robed sycamore sleeves. Sagacious spiders (masters of weave), slept snug & warm beneath my eaves. The creek roared fierce with a late spring rain. All things full must surely wane. Perpetual blossoms should not be sad, but I can’t sing when I’m feeling mad.

Atomic beats drove me insane. The sight I saw played on my brain. I wondered if the sky felt pain? Raven soar’d in for his attack. The Hawk’s quick eye did catch the beast but not before the Raven’s feast. The Hawk chick fell from the sycamore to the rocky banks of this canyon floor. The rest, of course, is etched in lore: 

An Angel garbed in feathered dress descended from her perch of rest. The battered babe, his blood now cold, rose from the dead on wings of gold. Miraculous in the Phoenix mold; fell from the sky then resurrected: A God-shot is quite unexpected for when the Reaper comes it’s time to go. Since earth’s first dawn this has been so, but then again, how would I know?

Heart returned to our beloveds’ sky, then the sweetest glint in our dear chick’s eye. The babe ascended his lofty nest to the greatest comfort, a mother’s breast. Successful in her Angel quest, our heroine in feathered dress returned to where all Angels rest. To this day this lore I’ve told delights all children, both young & old.

 

 

25
Feb

KING OF THE GALIATHANS

 

 

In various shades of suede stood Rex, King of the Galiathans. The Great Dane beauty had lived his life according to the laws of our universe. Kilos of muscle, tendons & fierce intelligence griped the cliffs. Behind him, carrying a pail of lotus leaves galloped Alex, a prince of a man. I loved him for that. I saw a field of Orange Mandarin Poppies bleed into the horizon. I saw both giants lay dying to their earthly vessels.

Where the sky meets the raging sea, dreams weeped along the mouth of the mourning coast. Big Sur cried throughout the night. Angels sighed as the ocean, lapping needling pines, felt such fiery, scorching compassion that the rain came. As eve dipped into the pitch black ink of night, these two giants laying there gave witness to eternal splendor. I loved them both for that. Frosted lava waves breached the shore where I lay crying.

Morning came without her sirens. All was calm, when before my eyes I saw a dream come misting forth upon the western wind. I looked to where the giants had laid down their heavy journey. On the very mark they had been supinely entwined near the raging sea, ocean-eyes wide open, were two splendid Giant Birds of Paradise. I loved God for that.

At that very moment, a clicking in unison caught my attention. Just where the waves turn to froth, there they were side by side, riding the tide with their Dolphin tails. They shot forth into the sky spiraling downwards then flipping back. They were happy. I smiled. They then waved so long for now. Yes, indeed, until we meet again. I love God for that. I love God.  I love you.

 

Image

ALEX & REX at 8 weeks old.  San Diego.

10
Feb

DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT ~ GRACE VANDERWAAL

4
Feb

BORN TO SHINE ~ DAY LABORER

 

Our queen is a day laborer. We are the lords of her kingdom. Blessed be our lovely queen, forever and ever. Amen. Our queen is between our eyes. She never calls herself a guiding light. We do. Her wisdom is priceless.  She gives it away for free. Not because she has to, because she wants to. Why do we call her holy when she passes us by? Why do we burst out joy wherever the sun touches her face? Our lover, the sun,  also touches her face, her grace. The sun, our lover, is reason we bloom. She is our perpetual blossom. She shares the same face, same heart, the same earth. We spin; we are double helix strands spiraling souls into one perfect utter bliss. Her Grace reminds us we were born to shine and light the sky. Her face? Shimmering jewels of wisdom gifted unto us by the lonely vagabonds of her heart & the holy swine who rule this place. You may if you wish. Go ahead and touch the sun. Don’t get burned. It is a diamond face with spinning nuclei. Buddha is in the middle … another face. That one is not human. Our Queen is a lonely piper of tones in shades of love. She is a continent on a lonely planet singing joyously with the universe, and the universe next door.

22
Jan

RAISE THE RED LANTERN – WITH GONG LI -FULL MOVIE

22
Jan

SOUL HAS YOUR EYES

I’m standing at my kitchen window. The dusk is passing into early eve. There is a wind storm going on. I’m concerned about a hummingbird nest that is in a young ficus tree raised from the dead itself; a stick two years ago in the backyard of my neighbor who had neglected it. I thought I’d just water it and see what happens. It grew. Now I am worried the wind will blow the nest away. I just saw some photos of baby hummingbirds in a similar tree across the street. They are so beautiful. That was earlier today. I won’t venture close enough to these here in my yard… just in case. But I think …

If all animals feel, and they do… how often have we seen the pitiful agony of struggle in their eyes against that which they know intend harm? If they fear they must know joy, they must love life. Instinct just doesn’t cut it. In fact, dismissing such behavior as reflexology is near-devious. It is verging … no, it is ignorant … it must be another form of crime against life.You see fear in all god’s creatures.

If all creatures feel fear, love life, know pain and sorrow then they have soul – if you consume soul – you must be an animal without one – or perhaps an animal who has yet to open their eyes wide enough to see – so – I ask, think upon this. I could be wrong – I know I’m not. 

hum min

17
Jan

WE CAN ONLY SPEAK of HOPE ~ ANGELINA JORDAN ~ FLY ME TO THE MOON

 
Here is Angelina Jordan … she just turned age twelve. This clip is directed by the same woman who did the illustrations on Angelina’s book. She is the grandmother of Angelina… from Oslo, Norway, but her grandmother lives and produces in northern Iran. These are two stellar talents, to be sure. Imagine how poor our world would be if we did not fulfill our true manifested destiny? We are here to be of service and laugh as much as we can. Make someone happy. Fear has nowhere to hide. If we rebelled against the tablet’s call which Lady Liberty holds with fierce compassion and pride (just a stone’s throw away from Battery Park, Manhattan), we would be the poorest people on this planet. Many of us are, regardless how much liquid assets we drip onto an ever changing canvass.  Must I repeat those words? “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”*  Open your arms, your hearts, your homes to all people who wish for a greater future today. If you give respect, you will foster respect … and hope. All there is worthy to speak of is hope. You want to live? Then you must learn how to think.  Scott Utley LA CA USA 1 17 2018 4:04 PM PST.

In 2015, Angelina published the book Mellom to hjerter (Between two hearts) illustrated by her grandmother Mery Zamani. The book tells the story of Angelina’s meeting with a poor motherless girl in Asia to whom Angelina gives her shoes. In return the girl promises to always pray for Angelina. It is allegedly based on a true story which Angelina cites as reason for always performing barefoot.[11] In 2016, Angelina launched her own YouTube Channel. After Angelina’s debut Christmas EP My Christmas released in 2014, she’s working on her first album for release in 2018.

Photo: Tore Sætre / Wikimedia

11
Jan

M 1931 FRITZ LANG – GENIUS WATCH IT

 

11
Jan

DIAMOND EYES (LOVE) LOVE LOVE LOVE ~ OF MONSTERS AND MEN

This life is amazing. It really sucks though. Sometimes. It is like Rosemary’s baby. Her head is spinning in circles in a movie called Psycho. She is screaming out 3-D green vomit into your mind (which was already pretty darn fractured from being alive in the time of plagues), yet still it shatter-cracks like blown glass murals on the day Pompeii died. Right? I know. Life’s a bitch, then you die. I think that is called a cynical statement. Who cares? But  … other times it doesn’t feel like that all all. It is a glorious joy-ride through the heavens of a very beautiful sky of emeralds & diamond eyes that are even more beautiful than that. That is what life really is, the rest is bullshit.

 

 

11
Jan

African Watoto Choir UGANDA

9
Jan

ANN PEEBLES ~ I CAN’T STAND THE RAIN

ann-peebles

 

8
Jan

MORNING AGAIN

 

My body rises before the sun.  My eyes flutter just as filament in a clear light bulb does. Dark and alone with myself, I fantasize the universe. Just for a moment, my filament eyes become beacons illuminating my life; All my sorrows, shame, thrills, love, loves and fears It will be several hours before the sun pitches her amber shards into the heart of this silent morning twilight. Silent if I don’t heed the frenetic beauty, voice of a madman. Songs of love and precision’d chaos ~ my mind on this fine day. I am strummed tight like the bow of a Stradivarius.  I am a finely tuned instrument ready to play this song called life.

 

5
Jan

ISN’T THAT THE TRUTH?

 

A spiraling orb of sea-green-blue burst into a ball of fire-red flames, leaving nothing in its wake but silence wrapped in an inky black coat of inner knowing. You beside me smiling that smile only you can smile said loud and clear, “Everything will be just fine”.

Isn’t that the truth? Isn’t it

Our feathered wings were royal purple newly sprouted.Dancing with joy from one cloud to another, we flew into our future with our unconquerable souls, and our unshakable faith in glory and the arresting beauty of perfect faith.

We both smiled that smile that only knowing God can bring. Pure joy! We filled the world with pure joy!

That’s the truth! Isn’t it though.

momo

1
Jan

COMMAND THYSELF

 

The_World_TimelineWallpaper_850x320_animation

“Command thyself to be healed, to be loved, to love, to forgive, to be forgiven, command thyself.” A preacher man taught me that last night in a parking lot after the sunset … somewhere near Reseda on Magnolia Avenue in San Fernando Valley. Bingo howled at every passing dog from the rear window of my car. Joel & I ignored him until I finally commanded Bingo to stop that XXXX! 

Let me tell you, there is something true and all-powerful in the words of that young man. I listened to him without effort. I knew what he was going to say before he even spoke. I’ve heard it all before. I listened anyway with kindness.

He held up a tattered Bible when he wanted to drive home a point.  I always thought I could rewrite that book. I’m certain I could have made it more accessible to youth (I was well on my way.), but I was young, just 14, and my F.O.S. (FRIENDS of SAPHO) sponsor said, “No way.  What are ‘ya, nuts?” Turns out it was the other way around. It’s always like that. Do you not agree?  

I was not nuts, not then or ever. I was as sane as you are now. My F.O.S. sponsor was crazier than a bed bug. It is neither here nor there but he was also loaded all the time. It’s just not fair. Anyone can dish out profound advice high on an eight ball. It just goes to show you. Sponsors of anything are nuts by nature, or haven’t you heard?

Although I can often quote the Bible. I have never read it. In case I ever do, don’t spoil the ending for me. Thank you in advance. Now, maybe you do not believe in God. Maybe God doesn’t care. Maybe, just maybe, God doesn’t believe in you. Think about that, why don’t you? 

It’s not like it makes a difference. How kind are you? Are you making every effort to be a better man or a better woman to our world. Are you a being who, when after you are gone, our planet will lovingly whisper to the western wind as she races past,, “I am happy they came. I am sad to see them go but I am happy they stayed as long as they did.”

Now you know the reason why clouds cry. The rains are tears of joy. Hmmm … how kind where you in your life? That will be the only question. That is all that will matter then. It is all that matters now. 

The upshot to this story is:  Trust your instincts & follow your heart. That is where God resides. Maybe you will rewrite the Bible or whatever other scriptures you hold close to your heart & by doing so, change our world for the better … or not … your worth as a living being was measured in full when you were born. Do nothing if that is your desire. That’s what I do. It may be your destiny. I hope it’s mine.

blackjesus

25
Dec

DISCOURSE AT OJAI

HE SAID:

I am only human. My voice is powerful so I never shout. We share many of the same thoughts. We come from the same womb. The source of all our inspiration never cries but laughs a lot.

HE SAID:

If you abort a child whose heart has begun to beat then that is murder. If you have not, do not worry or force your views, for The Great Source of Our Belonging will see to a loving rectification. If you have then remember this: I have seen the light of forgiveness in the eyes of eternity & your story must be told. Your wisdom must find its home, so speak your longing.

HE SAID:

Our Bible has sharp & angry claws yet great & wonderful truths are alive & found everywhere across its pages. Stay aware of deception concealed with stunning craft. There are lies stitched into the timeless fabric of a clarion call to salvation. They are scattered seemingly without rhyme or reason by infiltrated minds who hate love. There is nothing random or unintentional about these untruths. Do not allow the haters of this world to keep you from loving life; loving god; loving me loving you.

HE SAID:

Judas is my brother. He loves me very much as I do him. Judas was not a traitor. In truth, my beloved Judas gave the ultimate sacrifice for me. A fox may outfox a fox but never can a fox outfox our Father. If you buy into that deceit, silly you. Without Judas, our Father’s plan could never have come to be. Love Judas as you do me. I care only for lovers. I love only those who strive to be kind.

HE SAID:

Do not take it upon yourself to sit in judgment of your fellow man. A man takes the life of one man & then you punish him by taking his life. Who will punish you for that very same offense? Compassion makes me happy. Forgiveness gets me high.

HE SAID:

Sift through pages of The Word. Discard that which your heart says is untrue. Listen to your heart for it is there I dwell forever. Everything I am is within you. Go there now. Ask if these words I speak are true or not. Feel if what I tell you resonates with the piercing sound of truth. Either way I am the light, I am the way.

HE SAID:

Be happy. It is your birthright to know joy forever. When pain comes & come it shall, embrace it rather than run away. You will never be able to hide. Sharpen your courage. Be kind. Love life. Kiss the ground you walk on. Take the path your heart desires. This is my devout wish & hope & plan for you. Let there be light.

He smiled ecstasy as he turned into a ruby-red mist scattered within with blue and yellow diamonds. He was no longer there to see. I now know He never left at all; ever again, before or after. Let there be light. Let there be light. Let there be light. And then there was light.

 

 

 

 

21
Dec

AQUARIUS IS RISING

This approaching dawn looks brighter than the others. The Orioles song  seems sweeter than I remember. The fog I had resigned myself to living with is lifting with the light. This approaching dawn is seeded with new promise. Aquarius is rising & this light is so much brighter.

15
Dec

CELESTIAL ORCHESTRATIONS~WRITTEN AND PERFORMED BY SCOTT UTLEY

I once witnessed

A brilliant platinum galaxy

Abruptly vanish

Into a hovering cloud

Of dense

Erotic black

*

I saw a stunning world

Hanging on a mid-night sky

Like a black pearl

A world

Just as ravishing

As our very own cobalt orb

Explode

Into lava-red flames

Then cease to exist

*

I was once

A butterfly who loved

To dance in circles

To the beat of the sun

*

I’’ve been charmed

By the ruby-red eyes

Of dusk’s

Swollen sky

*

Suspended

Mesmerized

I’’ve been hypnotized

By defiant stars

Pelting Hercules’ sky

Over an Aegean Sea

*

An infant

Opens her eyes

For the very first time

And the Universe is born

Once again

*

Truly

Every face

Is the face of God

The lovely face of God

*

But

Never

Have I ever

Laid eyes

On one so beautiful

As you

12
Dec

MOSENA SEBOLA ~ SOUTH AFRICA ~ Abstracting Truth For The Mass # *1 by SCOTT UTLEY LA CA USA 01.01.2018 11:11 AM PST # *1 of 21 …

MOSENA SEBOLA ~ SOUTH AFRICA ~ Abstracting Truth For The Mass # 1 by SCOTT UTLEY LA CA USA 12 31 2017 912 PM PST Mosena is one of 21 people I searched out while horribly disfigured and confined to one room for three years. I found people I admired for what they give this world. I’m doing these abstracts of each … they all still remain my friends … true, real friends …. loyal and loving ~ courageous and always questing for good.

MOSENA SEBOLA ~ SOUTH AFRICA Abstracting Truth For The Mass # 1 by SCOTT UTLEY LA CA USA 12 31 2017 912 PM PST bbbbb

12
Dec

BECOMING A MAN 

I am shocked to learn of the passing of a man who would be the only guy in my life who’d ever come close to being a role model to me. I may have pretended sometimes not to understand or even hear what he had to say, but I never missed his meaning or his message. I grieve his loss, along with my closest family members & so many other great people made greater for having known him.

Dear Michael, a wonderful father and brilliant husband to my beautiful sister, Johanna. Michael Spoljaric … his greatest gift, among many, was his ability to make us laugh. More than that for me, from early on in my life he taught me the most essential qualities of what is required to become a man; walk tall, hold my head up in pride, be true to who I am, never forget where I come from. To know that a real man isn’t afraid to cry … and of course, when the going gt tough, run like hell knowing he would always have my back.

I hold these truths to be self evident to this very day ~ over half a century later. What more could a kid who was going his own way long before that notion became popular among rebellious youth ask for? He certainly didn’t have to, yet he did because he cared.

A rare breed is the man whose powerful inner bravado is made of the courage & faith of a ”man’s man”. He never lost sight of who he was; the real deal-a take no prisoners straight-shooting from the hip no-bull man when it came to telling it the way he saw it. He was a king of tough love. Only a prince with a gentle soul can become such a man. There is no irony here, one is the prerequisite of the other.

He found himself when he found the love of his life, an everlasting love in the heart & soul of my remarkable sister, Johanna. With his guidance, we all watched in awe as Johanna stepped into her own power. With his patience and deep love, we also saw her bloom into the woman she is today, a woman who has strength of character so finely etched unto the history of all our lives, who is loved so much by those who are also blessed to be brushed by her gentle heart.

It is a new world dawning, fast becoming a woman’s world. Thanks to the trailblazers & such a one is Johanna. I wonder if Johanna knows this is how we feel about her? To marvel at the two of them together is fitting. There is no Michael as we know him without Johanna. The two are forever one fierce force & fiercely loved in the eyes & divine mind of our beloved creator.

Michael was the rock in our family. He held the demons at bay which at one time had tried their best to get the best of us kids and my beloved mother. How does anyone say thank you enough to a towering figure of such profound impact? I love you? We all did, and not just for the reasons I say above. It bears repeating: Michael was a wonderful father to his children, my niece and nephew, Christina & Michael Jr., and his beautiful grandchildren. He was a brilliant husband to his equally brilliant wife decade after decade, my beautiful and compassionate sister, Johanna.

I am there along side all of those who loved him for being a true human being. “Life is short but terribly eternal.” Some of us are mortal, some of us are gifted immortality. We do not choose one or the other.

Dear Father, who art in heaven, the ball is in your court. Michael has achieved that which cannot be gained without you, dear loving creator, holding his hands from the moment he was born until now, as Michael is born once again. Some people are just lucky that way.

A MODEST TRIBUTE TO A GREAT MAN …

MICHAEL SPOLJARIC 

FOREVER YOUNG 


8
Dec

GOD IS THE GENIUS IN YOU

 

DEBBIE GUILLIAM POSTED ON HER FACEBOOK PAGE AUGUST 14, 2017:

[For those of you who still have your parents in your lives: You are so blessed. But some of you are too blind to realize how precious time is & that your parents won’t be around forever. You should really try to be patient with your parents so that you can enjoy their final years with them because once both your parents are gone. they won’t be back.  You will not be able to make up those days you choose not to spend with them. Since I lost both my parents I feel like I have nobody. Sometimes I wish G-d would call me home because my heart feels so empty anymore. Nobody in the family really talks to me, or my beloved friend, Ronda Wade. We pretty much have just each other, our husbands and our kids (when they feel like being around us, otherwise, most of our family wrote us off when we were little, tiny girls … except for a few loving family members.]
 
mantis
 
DEBBIE GUILLIAM: G-D MUST BE MISSING AN ANGEL, BECAUSE YOUR POST IS MORE VALUABLE THAN ALL THE TEA IN CHINA. IF YOU DO NOT BELIEVE ME, ASK MY FRIEND, GONG LI.
 

GONG LI 8 5 2017 SU LA CA USA # 2

GONG: Oh, yes.Debbie, your intrinsic value is only surpassed by this post you gave our world.

SCOTT: Ms. Li, why do you say that?

GONG: From personal experience.

SCOTT: Can you, or will you clarify that statement?

GONG: Yes, I can and I will. It pleases me to be of service. In my life and in the place where I was raised, it was matter of fact to honor your mother and father. It is tradition, but it is also much more by extension; all those who have come and passed away. This is our way in rural China, not so much in the great cities. Sadly, not so much anywhere anymore.

SCOTT: Do you believe that humanity can return to that state of being where the elders are respected?

GONG: Of course.

SCOTT: Honor thy mother and father. These are beautiful words. Must they be taken literally?

GONG: Nothing should be literally taken without contemplation. You may extrapolate this “saying” to mean much more or even much less. In general though, I believe it is a metaphor for honoring all those who come before us. By doing so, and listening to what our elders have to say, with all their wisdom, is a great source of direction along the way to fulfilling our own true path. Do you understand me?

SCOTT: Ms Li, I do. I understand completely with clarity because you speak that way. Thank you for your time. We appreciate you so very, very much.

GONG: Thank you. May you always remain blessed.

龚:哦,是的,拜拜,你的内在价值只有你给我们这个世界的这个帖子才被超越。

SCOTT:李女士,你为什么这么说?

龚:从个人经验。

SCOTT:你能或者你会澄清这个说法吗?

龚:是的,我能和我会的。我很乐意为我服务。在我的生活和我所在的地方,尊重你的母亲和父亲是事实。这是传统,但更多的是延伸;所有来过的人都去了。这是我们在中国农村的方式,而不是在大城市。可悲的是,不再是任何地方了。

苏格兰:你相信人类可以回到长老尊重的地步吗?

龚:当然。

SCOTT:尊敬你的母亲和父亲。这些都是美丽的话。他们必须从字面上看吗?

龚:没有什么事情应该没有考虑。你可以推断这个“说”意味着更多甚至更少。总的来说,我相信这是一个比喻来尊重所有来到我们面前的人。通过这样做,听着我们老人所说的话,用自己的智慧,是实现自己真正道路的重要方向。你明白我说的吗?

SCOTT:李议员,我做。我完全理解,因为你这样说。感谢您的时间。非常非常感谢你。

龚:谢谢愿你永远保持祝福。

MY PARENTS (I’M FIFTH OF SIX CHILDREN-MAY 20-AS ART N ART & CHER-TWO MY MY FAVORITE ARTISTS OF ALL TIME). MY BABY SISTER, APRIL CARNEGIE-CANNON-MURDOCH. AND I SHARE A 10 & 13 YEAR GAP OF AGE DIFFERENCE FROM THE ORIGINAL GANG OF FOUR).

MY PARENTS WOULD BE APPROACHING 100 YEARS OF AGE IF THEY NOT BOTH DID AT 87 FROM COMPLICATIONS of ALZHEIMER’S. MY FATHER, A REVERED, MUCH LOVED MILITARY WARRIOR ICON (USA, MULTI-DECORATED MARINE FOR THE BATTLE OF GUADALCANAL DURING WW II, AN ARMY OFFICER IN KOREA & FOUR TOURS OF DUTY IN VIETNAM. FEW ARE THOSE WHO CAN CLAIM SUCH FEAT.

MY TRUTH IS SIMPLE: THIS MAN, SAMUEL LUKE, MY FATHER, HELD IN SUCH GREAT ESTEEM, THAT WHEN I WALKED INTO THE BAPTIST MEMORIAL & FUNERAL, HAND IN HAND WITH ANITA SPAWN, I WAS, AS MY SISTERS, APRIL & JOHANNA WERE, EMBRACED WITH SUCH ASTOUNDING LOVE, IT SHOOK US TO OUR CORES.

IT’S NOT A SECRET THAT I HOLD MYSELF QUITE BLESSED TO HAVE BE CHOSEN AT BIRTH, OR BEFORE ACTUALLY, TO BE BORN HOMOSEXUAL. THE BAPTISTS THERE WERE AWARE OF THIS, YET IT WAS OF NO CONSEQUENCE (ALTHOUGH THEY BELIEVE THE LIES & MYTH OF THAT “PERVERSION”, WHICH IS, IN REALITY, GOD’S WAY OF SAYING, GOOD JOB, GOOD JOBS. “I HONOR YOU WITH MY MOST DEVOUT LOVE, FOR YOU ARE TRUE DESTINY’S CHILDREN.

THERE IT IS. SO IT IS, FOR IT IS WRITTEN … ANY WAY YOU LOOK AT THE LIFE & TIMES OF SAMUEL LIKE & HIS ACHIEVEMENTS, SOME OF WHICH ONLY MY SISTERS AND I ARE PRIVY TO; (OTHER MOMENTS IN US MILITARY HISTORY THAT CANNOT BE SHARED.), ANY WHICH WAY YOU LOOK AT THIS, IT IS A GRAND ACHIEVEMENT FOR A SOLDIER AT WAR.

I BELIEVE, UNSHAKABLY SO, ANY NATION AT WAR IS A FAILED STATE, NEVERTHELESS, MY DAD WAS MORE LIKELY THAN NOT TO HAVE BEEN ONE OF THE MOST CRUEL AND DEBASING, BRUTAL FATHERS UNDER HIS ALCOHOLISM THAN ANY YOU WILL EVER KNOW. MURDER AND MOLESTATION? THOSE ARE CHILD’S PLAY COMPARABLY SPEAKING. BUT HE REMAINS A PILLAR IN THE HEART OF ALL WHO WERE BLESSED TO BE GRACED BY HIS PRESENCE.

EACH ONE OF MY THREE OLDER BROTHERS, JOHN, CRAIG & RICHARD,ALL USA VETERANS, MET THE MOST GRUESOME PASSINGS, NEVERTHELESS, WHEN SAMUEL LUKE, MY FATHER, LAY IN WAKE, MY TWO SISTERS AND I FLEW FROM OUR PERSPECTIVE HOMES, AND WERE PRESENT IN FORGIVENESS, FOR HE WAS OUR FEATHER FOREMOST, AFTER ALL.

WE BELIEVE THAT,… BECAUSE OF & PRECISELY SO, WE STAND ROCK SOLID IN FAITH OF, “HONOR THY MOTHER AND FATHER”. THIS IS EXPANSION-ABLE TO THE GREATER WHOLE AS GOOD. THESE ARE NOT JUST PRETTY WORDS TO SAY.

IF ALZHEIMER’S HADN’T TAKEN OUR PARENTS “EVERYTHING’” AWAY FROM THEM & US, THEY WOULD BE DANCING IN THE STREET AT 100 YEARS OF AGE, ALBEIT, MY MOTHER IN HER HOME TOWN OF NEW YORK CITY, MY FATHER IN HIS, MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE.

PRESS HOME, PRESS HARD THE IDEA OF RAPID RECTIFICATION, WHETHER PEOPLE BELIEVE THEIR MOTHER OR FATHER WERE ANIMALS OR SAINTS BECAUSE THEY CAN AND THEY MUST IF THEY ARE STRIVING TO CONTINUE THEIR INDIVIDUAL PATHWAYS TO A HOME OF THEIR OWN; A DESTINY FULFILLED WITH HOPE… AND MOST IMPORTANT…  THE MOST IMPORTANT QUALITY OF MERCY; LOVE. DEBBIE, G-D IS THE GENIUS IN YOU.

THANK YOU FOR HELPING “WE THE  MULTITUDE” TO HEAL.

d61a1-beautifulyoungwomaninmagiclightanimatedgifsfreedownloadstockphotoimagesphotographymagicanimationprofilegirlinagoldenstarsuperlightflashgifanimationphotoeffectsppt

IRENE HOLT

 

 

ART MIXED MEDIA

COURTESY OF THE ARTIST & AUTHOR : SCOTT UTLEY

SCOTT@SCOTTUTLEY.COM

INFO@NUCLEARMIND.COM

 

 

6
Dec

HARP OF THE GODS

If you’re mystic, 

come this way & play for me. 

Tune your strings sharp & clear 

with all the pressure I can bare. 

If you’re mystic, 

stroke my hair & kiss my lips. 

Take me to your mother ship. 

Rifle me with your tough grip. 

Anchor me to your bright blue. 

Show  myself to me through you. 

Your platinum strings are clear & true. 

Play your harp, this is your cue. 

I know you’re mystic, I am too.

Say the word, I’ll play for you.

 

1
Dec

THE CHILDREN OF BLISS STREET

tn TheFallofSupermanV4

WRITTEN BY SCOTT UTLEY

“STOOPS TO NUTS”

WOODSIDE-QUEENS-NEW YORK CITY

A WARM SPRING DAY IN APRIL,1972.

BLISS STREET IS A VERITABLE BEEHIVE OF ACTIVITY. STICK BALL PLAYERS OUT CUSS EACH OTHER FOR ATTENTION. A FIRE ENGINE IN FULL THROTTLE SCREECHES UP THE STREET WHILE VARIOUS NEIGHBORS CONVERSE FROM ONE APARTMENT WINDOW TO THE OTHER. THERE IS SINGING AND LAUGHTER MIXED IN WITH THE VIOLENT RACKET OF ARGUMENTS BETWEEN ALL SORTS OF PEOPLE; OLD, CHILDREN, EVEN ANIMALS CAN BE HEARD IN EACH DIRECTION OF BEAUTIFUL 46 STREET OR ‘BLISS STREET’ AS IT IS DESIGNATED UP AT THE ‘EL’ (ELEVATED) SUBWAY STATION ON QUEENS BOULEVARD.

EDITH PASSES IDA’S GROCERY STORE ON THE CORNER AND MAKES HER WAY UP THE BLOCK TO 48-25-46 STREET; THE THIRD COURT OF THE METROPOLITAN APARTMENT COMPLEX. A GREAT BEAUTY AGING BADLY, EDITH HAS FIERY RED HAIR TEASED UP IN THE FASHION OF THE DAY. HER PIERCING, ROYAL BLUE EYES CONTRAST BOLDLY WITH HER BRIGHT, RUBY RED PAINTED LIPS. SHE IS HUMMING A POPULAR UPBEAT TUNE FROM 1942. (DON’T SIT UNDER THE APPLE TREE) HER SONG IS INFECTIOUS. EVEN THE SPARROWS JOIN IN WITH HARMONY. OUR FOCUS SEAMLESSLY SHIFTS FROM BLISS TO THE PORTAL OF THE THIRD COURT’S GRIT. EDITH SURVEYS HER NEIGHBORHOOD WITH QUICK AND WEARIED GLANCES WHICH SHE ALTERNATELY PUNCTUATES WITH BURDENED SIGHS AND THEN CAREFREE GIGGLES. EDITH IS THE SOUL AND THE DREAMER OF A HOME COURT CONGREGATION OF THREE.

EVELYN AND LORETTA STROLL ONTO THE STOOP FROM INSIDE THE COURTYARD. BOTH WOMEN ARE DRESSED IN TICKY TACKY CAFTANS. EVELYN IS A SHORT ROTUND FIGURE OF A WOMAN. SHE HAS CHILD’S EYES. HER ESSENCE IS THE COMPOSITE OF A NAIVE STURDY FRAGILITY. SHE IS LOADED WITH IDIOSYNCRASIES. SHE SQUINTS HER EYES WHEN SHE TALKS. SHE PONDERS THINGS AS A BEWILDERED CHILD MIGHT. SHE IS A PARADOX. SHE IS THE SALT OF THE EARTH. EVERYTHING IS A MYSTERY TO HER BUT SHE SOMETIMES CUTS TO THE POINT LIKE A KNIFE. SHE IS THE HEART OF THIS TRINITY.

LORETTA POSSESSES THE SAME DEGREE OF KINDNESS AND COMPASSION EDITH AND EVELYN HAVE, BUT HER HEART IS NOT WORN ON HER SLEEVE AS IT IS WITH HER PARTNERS IN CRIME. SHE IS KEENLY PERCEPTIVE. SHE IS THE SENTINEL WHO GUARDS HER FLOCK. SHE POSSESSES A VAST INTELLECT WHICH  SEEMS QUITE OUT OF PLACE IN THE THIRD COURT. SHE IS A RATHER TALL WOMAN WITH TRUE RED HAIR AND THE FRECKLES AND OCEAN BLUE EYES OF AN IRISH LASS. SHE SEES THE FUTURE WITHOUT EFFORT BUT SHE STRUGGLES TO UNLEASH THE GHOSTS OF HER PAST. SHE IS THE PHILOSOPHER QUEEN OF THIS CABAL.

tn SunnysideShoppingCenter97

EDITH

Hi, Evelyn. Hi, Loretta. Hot today, huh?

EVELYN

86 degrees. Unusual for April. Why don’t you take your coat off?

EDITH

I’m an idiot, that’s why. Why do you think why?

EVELYN

Why? I don’t know why. It’s hot. I don’t know why it’s so hot.

EDITH

Oh, shut up, will you? (Edith indicates to the women she is concealing something under her coat. They both nod in understanding.) Have you seen Scott?

LORETTA

A couple of hours ago. Him and Patty were heading up to the cemetery.

EDITH

Oh, for Christ’s sake. I told him stay away from her. She’s trouble. (Edith arranges items in her girdle).

EVELYN

But Edie, Scott is a good looking boy. He should be on TV. Why don’t you get him on TV, huh?

EDITH

What the hell has that got to do with Patty Ann?

LORETTA

She’s just saying, Edie.

EVELYN

I’m just saying.

EDITH

That and five cents will get you a cup a coffee. Where’s other one, whatshername, numb-nuts?

EVELYN

You mean April? Why don’t you say April? Why are you so strict with her? She’s very nice. She has a beautiful figure. She’s very popular with the boys on the corner.

EDITH

What do you mean, she’s popular on the corner? Get out of here. Have you seen her?

EVELYN

She’s cute. Don’t you think so, Loretta?

LORETTA

Very cute.

EVELYN

Nice figure. Especially for her age.

EDITH

I mean, have you seen her? What the hell are you on?

EVELYN

Say what you mean.

LORETTA

She was up on the corner with one of the Kelly boys about ten minutes ago. Another bad day, huh?

EDITH

So where is she now?

EVELYN

She’s around someplace. Jeeze. Definitely a bad day.

EDITH

Ass kicker. Foreman’s a friend of mine. Black fellow, real nice. Pulls me aside this morning tells me the jig is up. Someone’s blown the whistle. So I hide my stash in the men’s toilet bowl. Five minutes later security comes in and frisks the whole assembly line. Everyone was fired except me. I feel sorry for them. What are they going to do now?

LORETTA

What a damn shame. Those poor girls. What the hell they suppose to do for a living now?

EDITH

That’s what I ask?

LORETTA

What about all the orders I got? I have them up the yin yang.

EDITH

Yeah? (Hopefully.) There’s plenty. I can’t barely breathe with all the crap I swiped today. I took extra just in case. One never knows, do one? God Bless Elizabeth Arden.

EVELYN

God bless her.

[Edith retrieves her grocery bags and climbs the stoop.]

EVELYN

What should we tell April and Scott if we see them?

EDITH

Tell em to kiss my ass! (Edie laughs.)

EVELYN

Edie!

LORETTA

Edie, you should watch your mouth around here.

EDITH

Fuck you. (All three laugh.)

EDITH

You’re both Bozos. Bye-bye. If you see Scott and Johanna, April, Jo, April, if you see them tell them to get upstairs if they want to eat. I’m tired. I’ll see you all later. Hell’s bells, I’m tired.

[Edith disappears into the dilapidated courtyard leading to her fifth floor walk-up apartment.]

EVELYN

Have a nice day.

EDITH (O.S.)

Yeah, sure, you too.

EVELYN

What do you think, Loretta? Edie hasn’t mentioned Craig in what, how many? Three weeks? It’s not natural for him to get up and disappear. Not like him.

LORETTA

Can you blame him? He was holed up over in Manhattan at the VA. Six months? They drug everyone up there until they’re zombies doing the Thorazine shuffle. That alone would drive someone nuts. I don’t blame him walking off the ward. Still, where the hell is he? You’re right. Something isn’t right.

EVELYN

I thought he was over at Creedmoor?

LORETTA

That was Mickey.

EVELYN

Oh yeah, of course, Creedmoor. Had a cousin there. I was there. I had real problems then.

LORETTA

There wasn’t nothing the matter with Craig until he joined the Army. Nothing. I read those letters he sent back from boot camp. Paris Island? Paris my ass. Make it sound like a frigging resort. They beat the shit out of him down there. Those people are assholes. They send him to Viet Nam. Only seventeen.

EVELYN

It’s a shame.

LORETTA

It’s a damn shame.

EVELYN

Sure is.

[In the distance we hear the unmistakable chimes of an ice cream truck.]

EVELYN

Mister Softy, thank god. So late today, huh? Want something?

LORETTA

No, thanks. I’m on a diet…maybe a small vanilla…with chocolate sprinkles… (Loretta gives Evelyn change from her purse.)…and some nuts if he’s got any.

END OF SCENE ONE

tn LaundromatonGreenpointAve

DISSOLVE TO: INT. HALLWAY-GREEN FRONT DOOR-APARTMENT 5B

Edith fumbles with keys. Door swings open revealing interior. There is a small built-in nook to the right with a domed adjustable lamp hanging over a white-washed built-in table. An iron gate spans the inside of a window leaving little visibility. There are several Snake plants scattered about vying for air with several formally stray cats. The fire escape beyond the window doubles as a convenient way for some of the occupants of 5B to access the roof as well as escape natural disasters. Overlooking this touching pastoral hangs a cheap Woolworth’s faux gold-framed replica of Da Vinci’s ‘The Last Supper’. Edith steps into a puddle as she enters apartment.

EDITH

Ah shit. Ginger! Did you pee on the floor again? Come out of that bathroom, you little… ah hell, it ain’t your fault, poor thing. It’s that bum’s fault, Scott.

[Edith sits down on bench in the nook. She begins removing Elizabeth Arden cosmetics from under her brazier and girdle. This task seems to go on forever.]

EDITH (CON’T)

What’s this? (She holds up an eye brow pencil for inspection.) Oh good, I forgot about that.

[Having finished with her inventory, shes sighs, removes her dentures, and then begins to sob for no apparent reason. From the direction of the street we hear the sound of April’s voice.]

APRIL (O.S.)

Teresa, you should talk, you’re the whore… (sounds of tin garbage cans crashing about).

[Edith races to the kitchen window next to the stove overlooking the alleyway below and shouts:]

EDITH

April, is that you? April? Answer me. April? Now! I’m going to come down there and knock the … April?

APRIL (O.S.)

Ow, that hurts!

EDITH

Hey Teresa, leave her alone, you hear me, Teresa?

TERESA (O.S.)

Yes, Mrs. Utley. I hear you, Mrs. Utley.

EDITH

Teresa, stop picking on her.

TERESA

Yes, Mrs. Utley.

EDITH

You little snot nose, how would you like it if I told your mother?

TERESA

I wouldn’t, Mrs. Utley.

EDITH

Get lost, Teresa.

TERESA

I will, Mrs. Utley. Have a nice night, Mrs. Utley.

EDITH

April, do you hear me?

APRIL (O.S.)

What?

EDITH

Get your ass up here. Right now!

APRIL

I’m coming, I’m coming.

[Edith moves away from the widow and grabs a few paper towels which she then uses to wipe up the puddle she had stepped into at the beginning of this scene. While stooping down to manage that task, April bursts through the front knocking Edith onto her butt.]

EDITH

Watch it, will you?

APRIL

Sorry.

EDITH

How you like me to throw you out the window?

APRIL

I said I‘m sorry. What’s that on the floor?

EDITH

Ginger peed again.

APRIL

Great, I guess I have to go walk her now?

EDITH

Why? She already peed.

[Edith gets up off the floor and forgets to finish the clean up.]

EDITH

And you’re not going anywhere. Where were you just now?

APRIL

I went to Ida’s to get a Yoo-Hoo.

EDITH

Evelyn said you were on the corner with the Kelly boys.

APRIL

She’s full of shit. She’s a liar.

EDITH

Why would she lie? And watch your dirty mouth, twinkle toes.

APRIL

She’s jealous.

EDITH

I’ll tell you one thing, if I catch you with that Marty Kelly one more time I’m going to send your ass back down to Mississippi.

APRIL

Why, you plan on having shingles again?

EDITH

You’re a pain in the ass. Where’s your dopey brother?

APRIL

How should I know? I haven’t seen him in weeks.

EDITH

Not that one, the other one.

APRIL

He’s having a nervous breakdown over at Bellevue.

EDITH

The other one.

APRIL

He’s down south someplace.

EDITH

You know damn well who I’m talking about, Mickey, Craig, Richard, whatever the hell his name is. Scott, where’s Scott?

APRIL

He went up to the Calvary to pick flowers with Patty Ann.

EDITH

He promised me he wasn’t going to do that anymore. Who in the hell would go pick flowers in the cemetery? What is he, a nut or something?

APRIL

Don’t ask me. You’re the one who had him.

EDITH

Smart ass. One of these days someone’s going to knock you on the head. I wish he wouldn’t go there. It’s so dangerous.

APRIL

Not any more dangerous than hanging out in the Village every weekend. You don’t say anything about that, do you? But me? Oh no, I can’t even go to the frigging corner store without that stupid mutt.

EDITH

He’s older than you.

APRIL

The dog?

EDITH

Your brother.

APRIL

Which one?

EDITH

Scott.

APRIL

He’s only 14.

EDITH

So what? You’re only 11. Now get out of here before I smack you.

APRIL

My pleasure.

[We hear the clamor of footsteps and inaudible voices coming from the direction of the stairwell. April races to the door and cracks it open.]

APRIL

Scott?

JOHANNA

It’s me. I got Mike with me.

APRIL

What?

JOHANNA

It’s me. Johanna. Come get these bags.

APRIL

I can’t. Ma won’t let me go out into the hallway after dark.

MIKE

Put a light bulb on, that will help the situation.

APRIL

What’s a light bulb?

JOHANNA

You think you’re funny?

APRIL

Ma think’s so.

MIKE

What’s that smell, Jo?

JOHANNA

You promised me, Michael.

MIKE

It’s killing me. I’m dying out here. Smells like something crawled up someone’s butt and died.

JOHANNA

Shush. (Johanna giggles.)

MIKE

Well, it does.

JOHANNA

You can go to hell for saying stuff like that.

MIKE

It’s got to smell better than this.

[Just before Johanna and Mike reach the landing April heads for the bathroom unbuttoning her pink blouse as she goes. Edith pulls out a compact from her brazier and deftly applies another layer of cake onto her face. Mike walks into 5B first. He is hauling several bags of groceries which he drops to the floor. He turns to Johanna and whispers:]

MIKE

Smell that?

EDITH

Hey Michael, what’s your problem?

JOHANNA

Here are some groceries for you and the kids. We left the car running. No place to park and Mike’s got bowling tonight so we have to go anyway.

EDITH

Hey Mike, what’s your problem?

JOHANNA

Nothing.

MIKE

How you doing, Mrs. Utley?

EDITH

Fine, Mike.

JOHANNA

Here, Ma.

EDITH

Jo, we don’t need your money. Keep it.

MIKE

Buy some disinfectant.

EDITH

What did you say?

MIKE

Something that smells nice.

JOHANNA

He didn’t say anything.

EDITH

What are you saying?

JOHANNA

He didn’t mean anything.

EDITH

You think this place stinks?

JOHANNA

Ma, take this twenty dollars, you can use it.

EDITH

I said I don’t want it.

JOHANNA

Have you seen that blouse of mine.

EDITH

No.

JOHANNA

The pink one.

EDITH

No, I told you.

JOHANNA

April?

APRIL

No.

JOHANNA

I love it. I want it.

EDITH

What’s it worth to you.

JOHANNA

Ma, don’t play with me. I’ll start crying.

EDITH

You’re a big baby. April, get that damn blouse, will you?

APRIL

Where?

EDITH

Right where you left it.

APRIL

I never even ever seen it.

Edith

You did.

APRIL

I did not.

EDITH

You did too

APRIL

Didn’t.

EDITH

Get it, please?

[April caves in and heads for the bathroom.]

MIKE

Let’s go, Jo, this place is making me sick.

EDITH

What did you just say?

JOHANNA

Nothing Ma, we’re going.

MIKE

This place is a dump.

JOHANNA

Michael!

EDITH

You have some nerve. You try raising six kids, you goombah!

JOHANNA

Ma, he didn’t mean anything.

MIKE

I didn’t mean anything.

EDITH

Who the hell do you think you are?

JOHANNA

Ma, please.

EDITH

Get the hell out of here, you rotten guinea.

[Edith begins throwing anything she can find at Michael.]

JOHANNA

Ma! Ma! Ma, stop!

EDITH

Get out! You hear me? Your nothing but a lousy wop!

[April comes running out from the bathroom with a balled up piece of cloth. She throws it at Johanna. Johanna catches the blouse and forgets for a moment her husband is about to be neutered. Johanna sniffs the blouse and screams out in horror.]

JOHANNA

What the hell did you do to it? You ruined it!

EDITH

(To Michael) Out! Get out! Get out of my house!

[Edith picks up a massive rococo style lamp from a table. April starts screaming. Michael heads for the door.]

JOHANNA

Ma, you’re going to hurt somebody.

APRIL

That’s the idea.

JOHANNA

April, why don’t you go cover yourself?

EDITH

Out of here. You hear me? You dumb dago!

APRIL

Yeah, you heard her, out.

JOHANNA

April, I’m going to smack your ass.

MIKE

Jo, I think Edie broke my arm.

EDITH

Good, you deserve it.

JOHANNA

This is a damn shame.

[The lamp Edith has been threatening Mike with, goes shooting through the air. It hits Michael in the back. All hell breaks loose. Johanna manages to help Michael to the door. There are words exchanged. Finally, Johanna and Mike are out the door and down the steps in a flash. Edith runs to the door. April follows after her. Edith shouts out into the void of the stairwell:]

EDITH

And don’t come back.

APRIL

You hear?

EDITH

You hear me?

APRIL

You hear her?

EDITH

Shush. Listen. Let me hear them.

[Total silence. You can hear a pin drop. After a few beats, Edith and April turn to face one another, and then they both break out in laughter.]

APRIL

What an idiot he is.

EDITH

I keep telling you.

APRIL

He’s a jerk.

EDITH

He’s stupid.

APRIL

He’s a danger to him and everything else.

EDITH

Look what he did to my lamp.

APRIL

He didn’t leave that twenty bucks either.

EDITH

He’s a cheap fuck.

APRIL

Tight ass.

EDITH

What do you want from a wop?

APRIL

Lower your voice, you don’t want Loretta hear you say that.

EDITH

Say what? Dago? Guinea?

APRIL

No, wop.

EDITH

Wop, wop, wop, wop.

APRIL

Ma, stop it.

EDITH

I’m singing. You don’t like my voice? Guinea, guinea, guinea, wop, wop, wop.

APRIL

Ma, stop with the wop, just stop. Loretta will hear.

EDITH

What are you talking about? She’s not Italian.

APRIL

Her son is.

EDITH

Who, PJ? He don’t know nothing.

APRIL

Any soda in the kitchen?

EDITH

Cool Aid.

[Scott comes running into the apartment carrying a few dozen gladiolas.]

APRIL

About time.

SCOTT

Look what I got you, Ma?

EDITH

So pretty.

APRIL

You stole them from dead people.

SCOTT

I don’t steal. They gave them to me.

[Scott goes into kitchen to find a vase.]

APRIL

Dead people gave you flowers?

SCOTT

The guards gave them to me.

APRIL

The guards are on strike.

SCOTT

So is your face.

EDITH

Don’t be funny, Scott.

APRIL

Banana face.

SCOTT

Bubble head.

EDITH

Be nice, you two.

APRIL

I know you are but what am I?

EDITH

You two aren’t funny.

SCOTT

Ma, you want to know what I heard about April today?

APRIL

Hey you.

EDITH

Hay is for horses.

[There is a hard curt knock at the front door.]

EDITH

Who is it?

VOICE

Mrs. Utley?

EDITH

Yes? Who is it?

POLICE OFFICER ONE

Police.

EDITH

Who?

POLICE OFFICER TWO

Police.

EDITH

Police?

POLICE OFFICER TWO

Police officers. We’re with the Long Island City station. Is this Mrs. Utley?

EDITH

This is she. How can I help you?

POLICE OFFICER ONE

Mrs. Utley, we need to speak with you. It’s about your son. Open the door.

EDITH

Wait, hold on.

[Edith crosses to the chair next to the couch. April and Scott sit motionless as they witness the rest of this scene unfold. Edith grabs an overcoat and fusses with her hair. She crosses back to the door. She unlocks it as she speaks.]

EDITH

Did Mrs. Writz call you about the yelling? It’s not my fault.

POLICE OFFICER ONE

No, Mrs. Utley, Mrs. Wirtz didn’t call us.

EDITH

It’s that bum’s fault, my son in law, Michael. He’s nuts.

POLICE OFFICER ONE

No, Mrs. Utley, this is about your son.

EDITH

My son? You mean Scott? What the hell has he got into now? I told him stay away from the cemetery.

[Scott moves closer to April. The two of them stare in dread as they watch their mother‘s countenance change from one degree of concern to the other.]

POLICE OFFICER ONE

No, Mrs. Utley, it’s about Craig Utley. Do you have a son named Craig?

EDITH

Yes I do, officer. He’s been missing. Is he alright? What happened to him? Did something happen to Craig?

POLICE OFFICER TWO

Yes, Mrs. Utley, something terrible has happened to your son.

EDITH

Oh no, what? Is he dead?

POLICE OFFIVER TWO

There is no easy way to tell you this. We found his body in the East River this morning. It looks as though he had been in the water a few weeks. If the weather hadn’t warmed up, we probably wouldn’t of found him. We’re sorry, Mrs. Utley.

EDITH

No, you’re mistaken.

POLICE OFFICER ONE

I’m afraid not, Mrs. Utley.

EDITH

You are. You are mistaken. He was fine a minute ago, just fine. He’s doing well. Ask his doctor, you’ll see. This must be some kind of a joke. It’s not funny.

POLICE OFFICER ONE

No, Mrs. Utley, this is not funny at all.

EDITH

My son is fine, I know he is. He’s going to call here any minute, you’ll see.

POLICE OFFICER ONE

I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. I wish it would, I really do.

EDITH

He is. He will. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.

[Edith runs to the phone on the wall in the kitchen and picks up the receiver.]

EDITH (CON’T)

Call damn it, call. Johanna, tell him to call.

APRIL

Johanna’s not here.

[Edith slams the receiver several times into the phone’s cradle. She finally sits on the bench in the kitchen nook and begins to sob. Scott and April rush over to her and cradle her in their arms.]

APRIL

The phone was disconnected, remember, Ma?

POLICE OFFICER TWO

April, do you have the telephone number to a relative, an adult who may be able to identify Craig’s body?

APRIL

My sister’s husband, Mike, he can do it. He is the best one to call. You want his number?

POLICE OFFICER TWO

That would be wonderful, thank you, April.

POLICE OFFICER ONE

Mrs. Utley, we’re sorry. We are very sorry. This is the saddest thing we ever have to do. God bless you and your family.

END OF SCENE TWO

calvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

29
Nov

JOSHUA TREE

The rising moon extends an olive branch, honored, I graciously accept. Over oceans and rivers of ineffable mind, a starry domed astrolabe sparkles ovations. A shooting star, one of many I shall see tonight, circles twice then takes a dive, kissing heaven on the other side. Holy coyotes yelping shouts throw cactus darts near cunning hares.Kit Fox looks for gold; a bold smile suits her evening wear. Come with me, if you dare. I’m joking you, no pressure, dear. You’re the brightest star we’ll see tonight. The silent roar of our planet breathing is the only sound we will hear. Come to Forgiving Rock with me tonight. Meditate under a diamond moon with me tonight. 

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