waka of budouadana: Waiting

Waiting

The mollusk pulls back
Into its shell, avoiding
Possible danger,
Waiting for the outside world
To return to normalcy.

pitchers tuck by buddy don: walkin the streets of new york on a purty day

heres a few pitchers i tuck whenever me n miz bd wuz walkin round man hattan on a recent purty day.

furst pitchers tuck frum the eggzack spot anne coulter advocated that timothy mcveigh shoulda eggspoded his bomb, witch tiz rite under the flags at the frunt of the ole new york times bildin ...



next, a pitchers of 'lack mama, lack child,' witch ye will see whut i mean ifn ye notiss the eggspreshuns ...



then ye gut yer mamas checkin thar babies ...



not too far away, ye could see yer cabs n thar add vertisin ...

friends of buddy don: verr nice folk

i wonta thank everbidy that wuz kind a nuff to send condolentses over the death of a long time friend. twuz nice to here frum Tennessee Jed, witch i couldnt make no comments on his site fer the longest till a cuple daze ago. n verr nice to here frum otherns that i caint menchun here (sum folks lacks to keep thar lives privutt).

i wuz speshly struck by whut Anne Johnson frum The Gods Are Bored writ in a comment:

last fall i lost a old buddy the same way. he jes fell over dead. i never quit trine to be his friend, but he stopped answerin my emails after while. he wuz 57 also.

tuther day i was huntin fer sumthin and i found all the silly stuff he n i used to pass back n forth at wurk when we wuz in the same office. it jes brought back the hurt agin. he had a blog and everthang, i didn't know till after he wuz gone. hiz name wuz tom wiloch and i thank he wrote his Wikipedia entry his ownself. sounds lak him.

friendship is kinda lak a buncha leaves flowin down a river. thay bunch up then rearrange, flow apart, mebbe flow back tagither agin, mebbe not. n sum sank, n sum flow on.

tis one a the mystries.

that putts thangs bout as well as they kin be putt.

loretta also sent me a lil pome by Mary Lee Hall that bares repeatin:

If I should die and leave you here a while,
be not like others sore undone,
who keep long vigil by the silent dust.
For my sake turn again to life and smile,
nerving thy heart and trembling hand
to do something to comfort other hearts than thine.
Complete these dear unfinished tasks of mine
and I perchance may therein comfort you.

i wuz also gratafide to git a anser back frum a email i sent to a nuther ole friend that i hattent herd frum (or writ to) in a dozen years. i caint hep but wunder whar thangs could lead, but tiz promissin.

point is, life goes on. n the grate thang bout that is how a bidy makes new friends n sum of em turns out the be the verr best.

one of em putt up with me promissin to send eem his copy of shoot the devil fer sevrul weeks whilst i hoped to git well frum a slew of migraines n make a video of me signin n choppin n ritin a waka fer eem in his copy. he wuz kind a nuff to putt a verr nice post bout it up on his site, witch tiz a nuther of my faverts name of Thinking Meat.

finely, durin this lil passage of life whar it seems time eethur moves too fast (whilst i am at wurk trine to keep up with everthang) or too slow (whilst i am a'lyin in bed wonderin ifn i kin ever find sleep agin), i am reeminded of sumthin miz bd taught me early in our life together. she wurked most of her life as a jurnalist n one time innerviewd a feller frum Hiroshima, who i caint member his name. he wuz one of them that survived n wuz makin the round here in the u s of a to talk bout whut twuz lack n all. durin the innerview, miz bd owned up to bein frum ole kridge tennessee whar thay made that thar bomb. she wonted to pallgize bout it or sumthin, but he tawt her a fraze that has wurked minny a wunder fer us ever since: shi kata ga nai, witch that translates ruffly to, 'the unfortunate thing has happened; we must move forward.'

so pitcher me, movin ford, aimed tords wurk n ritin n not givin up even tho when sumbidy so near jes up n dies, it makes ye questchun everthang bout life agin n wunder whut tiz all bout n wuther tiz wurth it so suffer so ere ye die yer ownself. fack is, ye git to wundern bout ever other thought thats razed frum the ded by sumbidy ye know that well a'dyin ... witch ponderin such matter is bout as wurthy a thang as a bidy kin do ... or so i reckun.

sadness of buddy don: still in a fog

tiz a good thang i have such a busy job. i dont leave no time fer thankin bout much of nuthin that dont have to do with the job.

so i had a lil restbit from grief durin the day yesterdy.

but whenever i gut home last nite, thay wudnt nobidy here (miz bd has a reglar committment ever winsdy evenin) n all that grief cum in on me lack a thick fog. i dint do much of nuthin n this mornin, i aint bin much more usefull.

i did try to make contack with a nuther ole friend, but mayhap the old email address i had aint no good no more. or mayhap he dont wont nuthin more to do with me.

life goes on ...

waka of budouadana: Hollow

for chris ...

Hollow

Decay eats the heart
Of the great, spreading oak tree,
Leaving it hollow,
A living shell of itself:
So my old friend’s death leaves me.

sadness of buddy don: old friend dies at 57

yesterdy miz bd greeted me with sum awe full news: a friend of mine died over the weekend of a hart attack. he wuz jes 57, same as me. we had furst made friends in junior hi skool n traveled thru decades of life as best friends, tho even that dint last.

thays nuthin a bidy kin do bout such a shock. ye kin shed a few tears, talk bout how ye regret lettin a friendship lag to whar ye aint seen each other fer years, but nun of that duz inny good. we gut the news third hand n seems lack thay aint nuthin bout no funeral nor nuthin, witch i dont see how me n miz bd could possibly git to tennessee to attend, tho i wood lack to.

aint gut nobidy to blame on a counta i quit trine to see eem whenever i wuz in tennessee on a counta he lacked to drank moren innybidy i ever seen or herd tell of. twernt easy to talk to such a one.

but i reckun thats more a eggscuse than a reason on a counta a better friend n i am wooda gut past that n seen his friend no matter. i had plenty of chantses, but i dint wonta go thru the hole thang (thays a slew of ugly deetails that could be writ, but whats the point? they dont mean no more now than they dun then).

i figgerd thay wuz only one thang i could do in such a case, witch i dun dunnit. that is, i could at least try to git in touch with a nuther ole friend who i aint seen in a decade over reasons jes as silly next to death as the ones i jes writ. so i writ eem a email n hope the address is inny good.

but the lessun fer me (n innybidy that kin larn it) is how life is short n thay aint no time fer lettin grudges or inny other lil thang git in the way of friendship. ifn ye do, ye could be left with a feelin ever bit as empty as the one i gut rite now. n thay aint nuthin fit to fill it.

pitchers tuck by buddy don: whut a dad my son turnt out to be

tiz easy to wurry bout the nex generayshun when one of em is yourn. ye caint hep but hope them yunguns will grow up to be able to take keer of tharself n even to brang up sum yunguns of thar own.

thangs turnt out purty good on that frunt ...

pitchers tuck by buddy don: gimme that thar camra, granddaddy!

waka of budouadana: Friends

Friends

Brothers and sisters,
Mothers, fathers and children —
All are given us —
But old friends grow from choices
That reveal our truest selves.

i writ the waka above fer one of my verr best friends, witch he wuz kind a nuff to buy hisself a copy of that thar novel i writ name of shoot the devil. ye orta order yourn whilst ye kin still git one of the furst 49, witch them that buys one of em will be gittin unnamed bonus benefits a lil ways down the rode.

n do i need to reemind ye that yer book will be chopped n sined? n ifn ye give me two wurds fer a topick, ye kin have a waka speshul writ rite thar in yer copy of shoot the devil fer ye?

so click this here lank n git yer order in ere tiz too late. ye kin do it now!

quik note of buddy don: whut i wood do

everbidy is upset over the aig bonuses, witch they accounted fer about .0916% of all the money we dun give aig ... n they pertend to be outraged over earmarks, witch they amounted to lessn 2% of the budget n wuz money that wuz a'gone be spent no matter whut, so why wood folks be upset that how it wood be spent wood be deecided by them that represents the ackshull people they represent?

seems to me we putt way to much thought into the lil thangs that dont hardly matter nun n ignore the big thangs that do. whut is aig a'doin with tuther money they gut?

speakin of givin way too much creedents to lil thangs that dont hardly matter, lust aint the problem, deespite whut the far right relijus theeocrats of the cuntry lacks to preach.

point is, taint lust but greed thats the problem.

why am i talkin bout lust n greed (two of the gratest of the seven dedlies)? on a counta we dun kickd out a feller that knew how to brang greedy insiders to heel on a counta his lust. i am talkin bout eliot spitzer.

aint nobidy in washingtun dee cee thats gut the guts to up-point the lusty mr spitzer to whar they gut that tim geitner guy, but twood be a smart move, in my lil hillbilly's pinion.

waka of budouadana: Books

Books

Books are memories,
Reminders of what we did,
What we wished to do,
What we dreamed we could have done,
How we became who we are.

pitchers tuck by buddy don: visitin a nuther apple store

tuther weekend, me n miz bd went down to the apple store on 14th street, witch miz bd has dun gone mac on me on a counta she gut herself one of them macbooks n twuz all she writ, as they say. innywho, i went along fer the ride n the pleashur of her cumpny. corse, i tuck the camra, so heres a few pitchers frum the trip ...

furst, we tuck the subway ...


one thang ye mite not know is that thays moren one bildin that looks a lil lack a flatiron, witch thisn aint the famus flatiron bildin thats up on 23rd street. thisns on 14th n ye kin see it frum that thar apple store ...


corse, folks luvs to cum in n use them computers or simply walk round watchin them folks usin them computers ...

pitchers tuck by buddy don: refleckshuns on that thar museum of modern art

pitchers tuck by buddy don: pitchers tuck whilst mz bd wuz visitin the apple store

this here drummer pervided the beat durin the entire wait ...


ye kin see how the hole store is underground ...


this here lady is wearin the latest fashun in cruel shoes ...




corse i bin a sucker fer takin pitchers of lite in trees ferever ...

books of buddy don: that thar library thang

mayhap ye dun notissd a bunch of books over to the left of this here blog. i gut them a'goin by joinin a lil site name of librarything.com. i bin thankin bout trine to make a list of all the books i red, witch i know tiz a slew of em but not how big a slew. so i started addin books to that site n showin em on my left navbar. ye orta try it!

btw, ye kin see n even buy ye a copy of shoot the devil frum amazon by goin here. them amung ye thats red it could go thar n rite a revue, mayhap the furstn ever writ innywhar!

i wuz even able to add it to my vershun of librarything on a counta ye kin have it search amazon. how thangs has changed in my lil life!

pitchers tuck by buddy don: fergive my obsesshun

but i caint hardly git a nuff of these pitchers of lil ezekiel, so heres a few more, witch he wont crawl but tries to walk, doin a purrfeck 'downward facin dog' fer them amung ye that knows yer yoga, n he knows his legs is good fer sumthin, so whenever ye putt em on the ground, he cummences to jump up n down (long as yer holdin im).

after jumpin, he lacks to look at his granny, witch that wood be mz bd ...


he also lacks to investigate thangs, such as miz bds necklace


the necklace has bin sumthin of a good luck charm fer us, so mz bd splaind that n purty soon he wuz sayin 'good luck', witch dint nobidy else here eem say it ceptn fer mz bd n me (thonly other thang he has sed yet is 'da da da'). mz bd splaind that we dont eat our good luck, but ezekiel dint cumpleatly agree ...

waka of budouadana: Desire

Desire

As haze and moisture
On the horizon alter
White light at sunrise
Into glowing rainbow hues,
So desire distorts life.

waka of budouadana: Magnolias

Magnolia

The magnolia trees
Blossom for their short season,
Passing like childhood,
As flower petals shrivel
Into wrinkled memories.

pitchers tuck by buddy don: more of lil ezekiel

ezekiel n his daddy ...

waka of budouadana: Quilts

Quilts

As old fabric scraps
Sewn together become quilts,
So neighbors unite,
Becoming the foundation
Of human community.

waka of budouadana: Dogs

Dogs

Even snarling dogs
Will soon lie down quietly
Under the warm touch
Of pure loving confidence,
As two beings become one.

pitchers tuck by buddy don: healin power of bakin

whenever them steroids kicked in n give me a lil peace frum the pane n such lack, thay wudnt a hole lot i wuz reddy to do. in a purrfeck worl whar thay wudnt no migraines, mayhap i wood be pushin that thar novel i wrote name of shoot the devil, witch ye kin read more bout that deal here.

but lack innybidy that sits at lifes tabull, i gut to play the cards thats bin dealt me. so one thang i kin do almos in my sleep is cook, witch thay aint hardly nuthin i lack inny bettern in life. lucky fer me, i gut that birtdhy present of a stand mixer i menchunned a while back n miz bd wonted sum lemon muhrang pie. so i tuck the challenge, even tho i hattent never made one before. the furst one cum out rite tasty, but we couldnt wait fer it to set up sos i could git ye a good pitcher of it. so durin the nex brake in the migraine tortchur, i fixed a nuthern n insisted it wood live over nite in the icebox.

here's how it cum out:



on thisn, ye kin see whar the pie let offn a lil moistchur ...


corse, the eatin is the reason of pie ...




it disappeard ere i could git a nuther pitcher of it!

mizry of buddy don: cure wurser than the sickness

i bin thru a ruff patch here lately, witch far as me n miz bd kin tell, twuz a terrbull reackshun to a medicayshun i wuz a'takin fer a while. heres how thangs deeveloped:

1. i gut sick on the weekend jes befor chrismus with a migraine that kicked me fer five days (vacayshun days, witch that made it a lil easier to take)


2. contackted my neurologist, witch shes a goodn n calls me rite back. she had me in n putt me on a new medicayshun. twuz a odd thang on a counta the mint i gut the pills into the house, miz bd sed she dint thank thay wuz a'gone do inny good n mite do harm. why caint i larn to bleeve her conclushuns even when she dont have no evidents? she dont hardly never turn out rong!


3. i gut sick agin the weekend after chrismus (still on vacayshun), witch i gut over thatn tho it seemd lack i wuz havin lots of abdominull distress


4. long bout then, whenever i wuz figgern i mite make it thru this year with no migraines, i woke up by vomitin, one of the wurst ways to start yer migraine, witch i gut up (twuz bout 3 in the mornin) n tuck a pill name of maxalt, witch tiz a nuther migraine abortive.


5. i gut over thatn n had a purty good lil spell till thangs gut wurser agin, leadin to a nuther talk with dr k (my neuro), witch she sugjested i raze the mount of the medicayshun (nortriptyline) that wuz a'causin the problem, ceptn only miz bd knew twuz the problem (how could she know?)


6. it tuck a few daze to 'ramp up' to the amount of nortriptyline i wuz spozed to take, witch whenever i gut thar, i truly thought i wuz a'gone die. i tuck my medicayshuns (5 pills befor bedtime), sat up a while, n then went to bed. soon, all too soon, i wuz feelin i wuz bout to die. pane lack i hattent never felt in my chest, frum arm pit to arm pit. miz bd wuz out hostin the reiki dojo, so i wuz skeerd she mite find me ded whenever she gut home, witch obveeusly that dint happen.


7. me n miz bd discussd the situwayshun a nuff to whar i wonted to test whuther she could be rite bout that medicayshun. so i tuck nun the next fridy evenin, witch i figgerd ifn i gut sick, the next day wood be saturdy. thang is, i dint have nun of the abdominull distress, even ifn i did have sum migraine simptums (ye caint quit these meds without payin fer it in pane).


8. nex evenin, i tuck everthang but the nortriptyline, witch i felt sumwhut better, ceptn fer the terrbull hedaches that wood wake me up in the middle of the nite.


9. i calld dr k agin n splaind how the nortriptyline wuz causin a problem, witch she dint wonta here it till i sed twerent heppin nuthin neethur. so she ast me to ramp up on a nuther medicayshun n quit the nortriptyline, witch i dun it, ceptn it wuz the nitemare of wakin with a killer hedache in the middle of the nite.


10. so i had a nuther talk with dr k (told ye she wuz a goodn) n splaind that thangs wudnt gittin no better, that i dint even have a chants to begin rampin up on nuthin on a counta the hedache that woke me up. then i tole her bout a 10 munth period of no migraines i had back in 2002 whenever i wuz waitin fer spinal fewshun surgry. i tole her i wuz takin sumthin calld neurontin at the time. her anser wuz, 'We love Neurontin. It's great for prevention of migraines. Let's try that. I'll call in a prescription. Meanwhile, we'll break the current spell using steroids."


11. so she made the call, miz bd fetched the medicine, i cummenced to takin steroids n neurontin, n by mundy, i wuz back in the land of the livin (or not suffern too terrbully)

now i am a'hopin we have found 'the' anser or at least a nuther anser that mite last till sprang has dun sprung.

waka of budouadana: Reborn

Reborn

After long illness
The world seems almost renewed,
As if a soft snow
Had blanketed all symptoms,
Leaving one feeling reborn.