Faith

faith

spring sputters with near freezing nights
after summery teasings of thunderstorms
blooms stand forlorn as the advance is pushed back
they wake to chill and damp
wishing for warmth from a reluctant sun
flowers must have faith to survive
spring much less winter

Louie Spooner Bucklin   copyright 2015

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The sticks

Over the last two weeks, I have been camping out for real. None of this RV hookup crap; my highest tech item in my campfire cooking kit is my Meliita one cup brewer. I have one old aluminum skillet, a saucepan, and a battered old metal coffeepot that lacks a lid. Oh, and I have a couple of forks, knives and spoons. I decided against using the folding grill as I need to use a lot more wood with that than just putting the container right into the coals.

It was an intoxicating experience. When I arrived at the camp, the buds were just beginning to crack on the trees. By the time I left 12 days later there were so many different shades of intense green that changed day to day. I found myself at peace and happy for the first time in years. I’ve been through a lot in the last few years; divorce, foreclosure, the onset of serious mental illness (suicidal), and then, as if my life weren’t already interesting enough I started having balance and grip problems and was diagnosed with a brain tumor.

I’ve been homeless for seven months plus now, and I have to say that I feel it suits me. I get Social Security, and I am free to travel when and where I want. I realize that a lot of society sees my current way of life as dysfunctional, but I am kind of digging it! The camping trip was so good that I hope to do it again before the heat and crowds out for summer vacation arrive.

I stayed at High Island Creek Sibley County Park in Minnesota, which has a small campground on the lip of a huge ravine cut  by the creek, which runs to the Minnesota River. The place was deserted the whole time except the weekend when the horse people arrive in their trailers, which felt a little like having the circus come to town. Those mornings though, when I awoke with the the sun to the sounds of birds and nothing else, were important to my healing. Meandering through the woods locating the wildflowers and taking pictures filled the hours when I wasn’t providing fuel for my cook fires, making the fires, cooking, eating, cleaning up…and all that felt good too. Providing for myself simply was very satisfying. Some of the pix will be used as subjects for drawings and paintings.

I wanted to stay a few more days, but the weather turned very windy and wet.

magic

magic

foliage stripped and trunk blasted by ice and snow
waited for the forgotten touch of spring
thought to died from the cold
winter a scourge to the soft and tender
at last a breath of warmth
release
swells of sap
the strenghthening sun
feeling the desire to become
bursting into bud
embellishing the bright day
green moving upwards
towards gold and red gold
a haze of longing not to be kept waiting
bursting at last into the day
resting in the bright regard of the moon
dreaming of tomorrow’s  delight
bringing forth boldly the flags of spring

Louie Spooner Bucklin  copyright 2015

The next move

I’ve been visiting a dear old friend from high school. Howie was the physics teacher, and although I didn’t take his class I did spend a lot of time hanging out in his room. He sponsored the photo club and often had students redoing work or making up for missed work. He provided a safe and interesting place for me when I had no other reason to stay after school, and we shared common interests like poetry and SF/Fantasy. We stayed in touch over the years and he and his wife have had me as a guest for about the last eight days. It’s been a pretty low key visit, but it has been nice to get to know Joy, his wife, and visit with both of them.

British Beat – Some Other Guys : The Merseybeats

The Immortal Jukebox

The Beatles appearance on the Ed Sullivan show on February 9th 1964, viewed by some 73 million people (!) was an epochal moment in the history of popular music and indeed of global popular culture. The world would never be quite the same again.

Additionally, their Sullivan show debut red letter marked a new, wholly unanticipated, chapter in the, ‘Special relationship’ between the peoples of Britain and The United States Of America.

Following in the wake of The Beatles overwhelming chart triumphs and virtual colonisation of the hearts and imaginations of an entire generation of American youth battalions of British Beat groups began packing their bags and stared dreamily at their atlases as they wondered what the fabled cities of New York City, Chicago and San Francisco were really like. Could it true that they were on their way there and that when they arrived they would be screamed at…

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Another sample of my writing

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now this pain will be all mine
and I will take it and use it fine
to fill the empty places where
love gave false address and there
take the place of lying pleasure
later when pain is at leisure
loves light will evict the past
when love’s lies give out at last

Reaching out tentatively

I’d like to start posting my poetry but I’m not sure…of much these days, so here goes.
skin is not too bright
wanting without any sense of propriety
skin feels all but knows nothing
convenient numbness
might be the answer
then again maybe not
a challenge to feel
might push the skin into trouble
wordless and clueless
deaf and dumb
then scorched like a marshmallow
over a bonfire
aflame with embarrassment
ruined completely
listen to the heart
it says
‘stop, skin; wait for me
i know, i sense
only i can keep you safe’
the fires of strangers
are real dangers
loved, the skin is tamed
behaves perfectly
hangs where it belongs
until invited

Louie Spooner Bucklin  copyright 2015

My life as a moveable feast has just begun!