JukeBox~

~an inside out memoire of once upon a Pine Ridge night~

simple honey lights

the space between music and a cue

absorbs

the walking flavors

of leather

beer

chewing tobacco

ten minutes to final call

she smears the lipstick with the back of her hand

his gold teeth clicking

handsome

baby blues

in the right light

dyed blood red her hair

caress

white shoulders

sweat down her spine

mentally incarcerated

the drugged town

holds its breath

 

old man

button down shirt

frayed edges

hanging

fingertips on the light glass tapping

jukebox vein

old 45's

 

the bar cracks open the last bottle

conceptually nationalized

a flag

in distress

limp

 

old man

with walnut skin

pops a quarter into the old juke

joker eyes

cataracts

his goodwill boots

his goodwill smile

like old leather

 

red haired woman

gold toothed man

an eight ball

scratch

Nancy Sinatra pollen

"I wake up in the morning and I wonder . . . ."

pool stick with blue tip

green olive speared on the tip of a plastic sword

 

old man

with cataract miles

dirty fingernails

boot toe tapping

she pours her milk into the shadows

pearl earrings

her eyes

the only albino girl for a hundred thousand miles

whistles

lipstick stains on her chin

"Show me the calf that is like me."

 

gold tooth dims

knows better than to mess with ancient magik

like hers

he's a slave

to her sphinx smile

the cream of her dangerous mind

a lingering reminder

on his tongue

between missing ribs

 

old man

white out girl

her arm loop through his bend of elbow

two step

out the bar

years roll by in thunderclouds

jukebox waves

pushes  her cradle of power

through the open door

into the mighty unknown

drum roll

Nancy sings

a calf with a recessive jean

reflects a falling star

pink eyes blink

the music

spreads itself a canvas of stars

for a picnic above a mighty nation

line dancing

through every storm

with spurs on

 

 

 

 

 

 copyright:2010vssmd/pa.inc.

AL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Parker Pearl]

i really dig this. definitely a throwback to beat poetry, more kerouac than ginsberg i'd say. the piece was mysterious and alluring, i could literally feel the sweat soaked bar and beer stained streets, feel the discomforting vibe of whatever ritual was enticing the characters. good s**t.

[Morning Star]

O MY I rally love the imagery here and the vividness of the
Canvas your words painted in my mind
and the music of the Jukebox playing the oldies
Love the flow what a master piece this one is
FANTESTIC poetic thoughts!!

[Bard Constantine]

Dusty magic spun out to a staccato boot tap... brings to mind an old Western; raw, wild, and a bit dangerous.

[Gilbert Girl In HyDef]

A realistic glimpse of contemporary Native America, with undertones of something sacred questioned, set to the heart beat of It's people and Beatnik in tempo. I recognized the parallel in
"the only albino girl for a hundred thousand miles
whistles
lipstick stains on her chin
"Show me the calf that is like me."

A winyan waicisu and the white buffalo calf, though I don't use "waicisu" in the original meaning of "greedy fat eater." The bar setting also made me think of White Clay NE-things My friends have told Me.

[writing mojo]

amazing poetry, so good I am not worthy to review.

[Amber Betty Marie Child..]

How wonderful, holding more than feeling but energy, wording is well, every one is like a star, wonderful as always selene

[The Cougar's Den]

Does this throb, or is it just me? You certainly do paint a picture....

"Why everything's the same as it was
I can't understand, no, I can't understand
How life goes on the way it does"

LOVE THE PHOTO, by the way! (Can I have her?)

[Sweet_pale_cacophony]

Your words are so lucid.Every word you chose tells a tale of its own.You weave them together into an elegant tapestry of words which is hard to match up to.

[...]

. oh wow! ... there are universes of soul-searching here ... your playlist is so eclectic ... and yet so singularly soulful ... that it can only be compared with the magnificence and aura of jazz ... it's as if you embroider these images ... and play the notes ... that anyone can hear and marvel at ... your signature is so distinct ... your worldview is so inclusive ... you write operas ...

[Marianne]

Oh, this brought back memories of standing in front of the jukebox searching for my favorite song, letting everyone know where I was at !

The atmosphere you painted has me breathe in every nuance of every vibe you exhale, your magnificent gift to weave us into your allure, blessing us with the wonder of your eye for detail and magic, vision and experience.

You are a miracle !!