when I am lost in heart ache
shudder, shatter
the pale you
my one and only
true love
shudder, shatter
the pale you
my one and only
true love
it's like discovering hidden treasure
in that box in grandma's attic
late when they're asleep
discovering magic
this single candle
in the midnight hour
A l i c e
ah ok, let's just pretend we're at this uncomfortable party
and we're like ... shooting the shit
maintaining appearances
"so ya, i remember the first time i did acid"
that kind of shit
magic mushrooms - a handful of times
and we're like ... shooting the shit
maintaining appearances
"so ya, i remember the first time i did acid"
that kind of shit
"na, i was never into hard drugs
having done coke a few times
speed/bennybabies a few times
too much recouperation required thank you
in my 20's mostly - now in my 50's
no needles
yuK"
in my 20's mostly - now in my 50's
no needles
yuK"
magic mushrooms - a handful of times
acid 3 times. each time quite wonderful
summer 1979 - wishful thinking
summer 1979 - wishful thinking
the first time in Shediac New Brunswick
when i was a musician/singer in Major Hooples
traveling gypsies we were
in a rock band - far away
on the ocean - lights at night
came on after dark
amazing
family - a concept that reflected remorse
i think i'm supposed to be sad
about something
traveling gypsies we were
in a rock band - far away
on the ocean - lights at night
came on after dark
amazing
family - a concept that reflected remorse
i think i'm supposed to be sad
about something
aunt allie passed away
when i was thousands of miles away
standing in water
holding a cold florescent fish
waiting for something
to happen
absent father - absent nephew
i went out to the farm two summers (for several weeks)
from 1963 to 1965 (ages 7-9)
parents/relationship
let's not go there
ok, not good
I helped Uncle Ken (Mom's brother) with the chores
hay/oats - milking the cows
August usually - hot but a cool evening wind
a harvest abundance incoming
fresh corn, veggies and fruit from allie's garden
yummy suppers - no margarine here mom
only fresh butter
drank my first cold beer
after chores w/my Uncle Ken
i was 8 - ah thank you VERY much, Uncle
can I have another?
these Molson's Canadians
have a unique way of quenching
my thirst
"there's nottin' like a cool one after chores"
only one cool one turns into 6 by midnight
six years later - absinthe - heroin?
what-ever
ok, nothing's perfect
one step forward - two steps back
it is what it is
Eastwood Ontario - RR#5 Woodstock
mosquitos, stepping in cow dung/horseflies
dog needs to be tied up cause it's killin' the chickins'
and yet - wow - stepping back
taking a deep breath
fresh
i love this song because it reminds me of what life used to be like
from 1963 to 1965 (ages 7-9)
parents/relationship
let's not go there
ok, not good
I helped Uncle Ken (Mom's brother) with the chores
hay/oats - milking the cows
August usually - hot but a cool evening wind
a harvest abundance incoming
fresh corn, veggies and fruit from allie's garden
yummy suppers - no margarine here mom
only fresh butter
drank my first cold beer
after chores w/my Uncle Ken
i was 8 - ah thank you VERY much, Uncle
can I have another?
these Molson's Canadians
have a unique way of quenching
my thirst
"there's nottin' like a cool one after chores"
only one cool one turns into 6 by midnight
six years later - absinthe - heroin?
what-ever
ok, nothing's perfect
one step forward - two steps back
it is what it is
Eastwood Ontario - RR#5 Woodstock
mosquitos, stepping in cow dung/horseflies
dog needs to be tied up cause it's killin' the chickins'
and yet - wow - stepping back
taking a deep breath
fresh
i love this song because it reminds me of what life used to be like
out on the farm, with aunt allie
in the summer of '64
swinging in the hammock
no cares in the world
while she cooks supper
"hummingbird back"
my announcement from the porch
through a squeaky screen door
crickets singing even in
late afternoon
"you just leave it be"
having tried to catch it earlier
allie's frail vocabulary
sounding from a fragile formation
flesh and blood - skin and bone - carved in brick and stone
in mind and spirit - heritage heretic
alice is alive in this moment
but not for long
reverberating from the back kitchen
that familiar ambience
in decay and forgiveness - the rattling
of a days end - pots and pans
her tired words
as the hummingbird disappears
dropping carved potatoes
into a worn, wet aluminum pot
Gershwin on the radio
"nice for a change" - she thinks
in a rare, confident moment
getting up and going in
the squeaky door
slamming shut
(letting a dozen flys in)
"geez, what did I tell you about that damn door! "
never cursing officially
no - ah "were you dancin' there?"
"just shush"
I could never be afraid of allie - kind soul
approaching her - smells amazing
wrapping my arms around her waist
and that brief moment of surrender/reciprocation
in her mess - in my missing her
tears often - dismissed - i'm thinkin'
"rice pudding w/raisins for dessert tonight"
yes
"now that's over - the hug part"
pushing me away only because there's work to do
"ok, ornery is in my general orbit at the moment Jimmy"
Allie looks stressed? but really isn't
"needs more raisins - get me some out of the pantry
- and they need to be soaked first - geez"
she secretly loved having me around
no kids of her own - no man
imprisoned
an inner world
lonely
yes, light out there - I see it
this feels timeless
farm fresh cream in the bottom of my rice pudding bowl
bam - all gone
"chores after supper
barn stalls need to be cleaned tonight"
she snips
"Ken's gone - you need to do it"
My Uncle Ken - ok, drinking binges
Mom's brother - Allie's nephew
bad news combination
they co-existed together out on the farm
"aw geez" shit - hating the smell of manure
but loving the smell of everything else
looking out a dirty window
and into another the fading sun
part of me hated being here - part of me loved it
only because it was so quiet, peaceful - clean
gazing out, into the magic
in this moment
it's a life i needed - more than
wanted
but i get it
.
sleeping next to her arm in arm on her lumpy bed
after several games of chinese checkers/warm milk
cookies - quiet and dark - candle's out - time for bed
windows open, warm breeze - crickets chirping - full moon
i was Allie's connection to the world back then
her nephew/son, her husband/father (even phantom lover) - all in one package
awakening before the dawn - going outside
looking up into the light
one last time
cold wind
morning glory
closure
goodbye dear
it's in the light that's always on
showing those lost souls
in dangerous water
where home is
it was the smell more than anything else
earth/air, sky - life - redemption
A l i c e
Allie passed away a few years later
after returning home to Woodstock Ontario
on tour with my band when she passed - bummer
baptised and buried in my bereavement
she was 77 years old, tired
gone - just outside
of town
in the summer of '64
swinging in the hammock
no cares in the world
while she cooks supper
"hummingbird back"
my announcement from the porch
through a squeaky screen door
crickets singing even in
late afternoon
"you just leave it be"
having tried to catch it earlier
allie's frail vocabulary
sounding from a fragile formation
flesh and blood - skin and bone - carved in brick and stone
in mind and spirit - heritage heretic
alice is alive in this moment
but not for long
reverberating from the back kitchen
that familiar ambience
in decay and forgiveness - the rattling
of a days end - pots and pans
her tired words
as the hummingbird disappears
dropping carved potatoes
into a worn, wet aluminum pot
Gershwin on the radio
"nice for a change" - she thinks
in a rare, confident moment
getting up and going in
the squeaky door
slamming shut
(letting a dozen flys in)
"geez, what did I tell you about that damn door! "
never cursing officially
no - ah "were you dancin' there?"
"just shush"
I could never be afraid of allie - kind soul
approaching her - smells amazing
wrapping my arms around her waist
and that brief moment of surrender/reciprocation
in her mess - in my missing her
tears often - dismissed - i'm thinkin'
"rice pudding w/raisins for dessert tonight"
yes
"now that's over - the hug part"
pushing me away only because there's work to do
"ok, ornery is in my general orbit at the moment Jimmy"
Allie looks stressed? but really isn't
"needs more raisins - get me some out of the pantry
- and they need to be soaked first - geez"
she secretly loved having me around
no kids of her own - no man
imprisoned
an inner world
lonely
yes, light out there - I see it
this feels timeless
farm fresh cream in the bottom of my rice pudding bowl
bam - all gone
"chores after supper
barn stalls need to be cleaned tonight"
she snips
"Ken's gone - you need to do it"
My Uncle Ken - ok, drinking binges
Mom's brother - Allie's nephew
bad news combination
they co-existed together out on the farm
"aw geez" shit - hating the smell of manure
but loving the smell of everything else
looking out a dirty window
and into another the fading sun
part of me hated being here - part of me loved it
only because it was so quiet, peaceful - clean
gazing out, into the magic
in this moment
it's a life i needed - more than
wanted
but i get it
.
sleeping next to her arm in arm on her lumpy bed
after several games of chinese checkers/warm milk
cookies - quiet and dark - candle's out - time for bed
windows open, warm breeze - crickets chirping - full moon
i was Allie's connection to the world back then
her nephew/son, her husband/father (even phantom lover) - all in one package
awakening before the dawn - going outside
looking up into the light
one last time
cold wind
morning glory
closure
goodbye dear
it's in the light that's always on
showing those lost souls
in dangerous water
where home is
it was the smell more than anything else
earth/air, sky - life - redemption
A l i c e
Allie passed away a few years later
after returning home to Woodstock Ontario
on tour with my band when she passed - bummer
baptised and buried in my bereavement
she was 77 years old, tired
gone - just outside
of town
i was just a kid
she had long whiskers
on her chin
her food dripped from it
at dinner and then supper
when i stayed out there
on the family farm
on the family farm
summer months
white hair
smile
dry (overcooked) roast beef, boiled potatoes
fresh horseradish and parsnips from the garden
cracked wheat bread - dipped in molasses
mopping up what's left on our plate
local radio news - through a
crackling mono-phonic
non fidelity speaker
dogs, cats - birds and insects
all in abundant supply
sleeping with her in her lumpy bed
wanting to be close to her
because
white hair
smile
dry (overcooked) roast beef, boiled potatoes
fresh horseradish and parsnips from the garden
cracked wheat bread - dipped in molasses
mopping up what's left on our plate
local radio news - through a
crackling mono-phonic
non fidelity speaker
dogs, cats - birds and insects
all in abundant supply
sleeping with her in her lumpy bed
wanting to be close to her
because
i loved her
sweet soul - kind - my only real aunt
my only other connection
to the outside world
family
there can be a quality to aloneness
this i have learned - fear takes on a
new meaning, when you lose someone close
time to listen
worrying is praying for something you don't want
or as allie once said to me (stirring lumps out of the gravy)
"why spend all your time frettin' and fussin -
because none of that's gonna matter in the end anyway"
there can be a quality to aloneness
this i have learned - fear takes on a
new meaning, when you lose someone close
time to listen
worrying is praying for something you don't want
or as allie once said to me (stirring lumps out of the gravy)
"why spend all your time frettin' and fussin -
because none of that's gonna matter in the end anyway"
Aunt Allie is a memory and a spirit
that lives on in me
(dedicated to Alice McFarland)
(dedicated to Alice McFarland)
No comments:
Post a Comment