Butcher's street

Pulitzer walked up this street. A beard to his waist tucked in a pocket of his long coat. Vladimir waived his hand to him from a distance, when he was writing his revolutionary poetry. Now a dog, an empty bucket in his muzzle, walks the street with a purpose. Pulitzer walked up this street. Dazed street whispers Maiakovsky's verses. The dog disappeared inside of the slaughterhouse. Everybody around here knows this dog. After a while he reappeared. His master is now helping him to carry a full bucket. Pulitzer walked up this street, whole street sighs deeply. Trolley pole shouts Maiakovski's verses, when the streetcar turns right corner. Pulitzer and Maiakovski are now shaking their hands. Which of them has had the beard? I don't know. Did those two ever meet? I don't think so. Butcher's Street was in need of little drama. What about the dog? He is inside of his home now. What about the streetcar? It still sways thorough the street. What about the slaughter house? It is still there. And what about Pulitzer? I doubt he knew anything about Maiakovski's poetry. Nearby Butcher's Street Vltava river washes its banks, and I keep walking. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville 12/10/2010 Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 12/20/2009

Drug addict

Life is one big party. Just observe, look, steal everything you can. Just do not get caught. You are on the drugs. Go to the source. Observe, take, enjoy. Get free housing. You have no income, your pockets are empty - now, today. Observe. look, take, enjoy. Just don't get caught. Work is for others. It's something you didn't learn. Music, drugs, give me the right buzz. Everything is free, just for taking. If you will strike the proper well you will get instantly rich. Life is one big party, enjoy when you can. Be smart, don't overdose. Have right mixture. There is a risk and that will end it all. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 12/20/2010

Apartment for rent

Relatives came to pick up a chest of drawers. They took pictures in front of high rise. First all of them together, then one by one. One soul left. There is no need this mouth to feed. I wish to be Buddhist, and this soul in its next life will not have to worry about being lonely. Little bit of grief, little bit of memories, and long way home full of remorse. Time stopped for one short second. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, translated from Czech 12/18/2010 POW! GROW

My street

The birds are flying above my street and make my cat chatter his teeth. Sometimes the dogs are fighting. They are not many houses here. Poverty is looking out of the windows. People are walking. They have no cars. Walking is good for them - if they can. Children are skating and dreaming every day, when they'll grow up they will leave this street. They skate faster, when they are dreaming. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville 12/15/2010 POW! assignment.

Hey, Josh

Hey, Josh,
I am going
to think,
because you sit
in every meeting,
and I can not
stand you.
I simply can not
stand you.
I am going
to think.
Within a year
I shall be goner.
My children
will cry.
My grandchildren
will cry
and call:
we shall miss you
grandma.
I shall send
my sister
on such guilt trip
she will never
come back.
My oldest sister
will knit me
nice warm sweater
to wear
in the casket,
and my brother
will tell more
tall tales.
He will cry:
Why did she run away?
No, that's another
tall tale - mine.

Hey, Josh,
why you don't get
lost? Buzz off!
Go away!
It's not working,
Josh.

Copyright (c) MP
Pottsville, 12/10/2010
POW! GROW

Doorway

Shut the door! Do you have a Christmas tree sticking in your behind? Please, close the door. There is no door, only a doorway, but not the door. Hang up beads, or put a blanket over the frame. Wind is blowing and brings inside snow. Move your butt and go and buy the door. Don't forget to bring hinges. Just cover the doorway. In summer there will be chickens pecking on the floor. Oh, you like a view on the mountain and the meadows. They are there cows, too. Go, and buy glass door, so you can have your view. Don't forget the hinges, a lock, and the handle. And what you will do? just sit and tell me what to do? I am going to chase these chickens out, stitch something to cover your glass door, and make supper. Something what you like, so I'll know, you are coming back. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 12/10/2010

Life skills

I taught you well by word by body language by my actions. I hear an echo of what I have said now and then. You remember good. I taught you well. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 12/2/2010

Peppa

Before Christmas I stopped at my sister. They lived in small, completely renovated 1 bedroom apartment in the historical part of town. They had four year old boy at that time. Everything was in preparation for Holidays. There was a big laundry going on, in the kitchen the cupboards were scrubbed and all dishes washed, and she was also in the middle of baking Christmas cookies. Of course she had a couple of new recipes she had to try. In the bedroom on the bed stand there was a half finished crocheted doily - a Christmas present for her mother in law. I excused myself if I can go and wash my hands. I went to the bathroom. In the bathtub filled with water was swimming a good ten pounds size carp. The carp's color was already changing to the whitish grey color from chlorine in water. The carp was a part of traditional Christmas dinner.
"You have a fish in the bathtub."
"Yes, I know. His name is Peppa."
"Are you taking a bath together?"
"No, we take showers at Jarda's parents. We talk to him and Milan likes to play with him. He was full of leaches, especially around gills, so I pulled them out with tweezers. Now, he is clean.
I was in the hurry to catch a train, so I wished them Merry Christmas, and left. I stopped again after Holidays. The bathtub was empty.
"Did you make fish soup and fish fillets?"
"No. Milan cried. He loved him so much we couldn't kill him. So we put him into a shopping bag, walked to the river and released him. He swam away."
What did you make for dinner?"
"I fried wiener schnitzels."
I wished them Happy New Year. There was another train to catch. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 2007

Cherries and elephants

Local farmer, John Smith, knew it's time to pick cherries. Early in the morning he filled his flat bad truck with baskets and crates and drove to his cherry orchard, where he had sixteen cherry tries. Cherries were the size of golf balls, dark red, crunchy and juicy inside. In ten minutes he filled fifty bushel baskets. He had to make ten rounds to bring all cherries to the barn, where his wife was sitting on the low stool sorting cherries: to the market, for canning, for jellies, and the best for herself, because she liked canning them also. In the middle of the orchard the farmer discovered three elephants hiding in the tree tops. He picked them up and brought them home to his wife. By the end of the day they put all the baskets on the scale and found out they picked one hundred tons. "John, I found three elephants among the cherries." "I know, they were hiding in the trees so well, I didn't see them among the branches." "What are we going to do with gray elephants?" "We will take them tomorrow morning to the market." And they did. By the afternoon all cherries were sold out, but nobody wanted to buy three pink eyed elephants, so they returned them back to the orchard. The factory canned all cherries and whole county made cherry pies for all year around. Behind the factory was a mountain of cherry pits. In the winter time all family, including both grandparents, one great, great grandmother, about thirty grandchildren, and several aunts and uncles, were busy making cherry pits necklaces, bracelets, dangling earrings, cherry beads, and other popular articles sold at Boscov's stores. Cherry pits made great stuffing for mattresses, car seats, neck supports and socks and delivered for health savvy customers in the health stores. Heated cherries could do amazing things. The story is based on Czech joke: Did you see pink eyed elephant on the cherry tree? No. See, how they hide well. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 10/10/2010 POW! GROW

The end of the World

They were told the end of the World is coming. So they gathered in the basement and sit there. They brought with them food and water, blankets, pillows, flashlights and candles. They sit in the basement, holding their hands, and waiting. They are hugging each other, sitting in the basement, holding the hands, praying - and waiting. One day they walked out. The World is the same as was before. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 11/25/2010 POW! GROW

Doors

There are always doors. Familiar doors
we use every day.
Coming in
and going out.
Close it quietly.
Some don't.
Some slam it shut.

There are doors
to tomorrow,
there are doors
to yesterday
and the doors
to the future.
Little flap doors
for the cats
and big doors
to the banks.

Doors with the doorknobs
and those with the handls
and the doors
where you have to
punch the numbers.

Door to the kitchen
and you think
you still can smell
tomato soup
you had for supper
yesterday.

Door to your parents bedroom
you don't open
when it is closed.
Huge door to the school,
when you are so small.
One day that door
closes behind you.
One day you own a key
to your first apartment
and it has your name on it.

The doors to your future,
the doors to unknown,
full of surprises,
we open every day.
One day you return
your card
to the door
you closed willingly
and open the door
to the quiet life.
You open it quizzically.
Here I come
my old age.

My neighbor died yesterday.
He had diabetes.
The illness which
will get you
soon or later
finger by finger,
toe by toe.
There is emptiness
and wet eyes
of his wife and children,
It was his last door
and now it's closed.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 12/2/2010

Blue

To Alexa Little blue house and little blue river, little blue lady riding little blue donkey, holding little blue guitar and singing softly blues. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 11/10/2009