Sailors 2

After such answer the sailors are looking for a library, because they would like to know more about Alibaba and his companions, and why the girls prefer them over hardworking sailors. Of course, all libraries in town are already closed by this time of the day, and bookstores do not carry Alibaba. The sailors began to get insanely jealous and go to the bar to get drunk. Some of them drink to oblivion, some howl and brawl, and other get sick. All of them return to the hotel late and they are grounded the next day and they have to listen to the yodeling of Chodsky's sailors: "I am missing her, I am missing her while she serves in Postrekov."
Next day the ship takes off and the sailors are glad, because in the next port they will be able to borrow and read about Alibaba and forty thieves - and they are hoping the girls there do not have to go to the bed at seven o'clock evening.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
sometimes 2010
Pottsville, PA

Sailors

To Joseph

And of each sailors, when they anchor in the ports, will buy a bottle of club soda and he walks into his room, he sits on the bed, pulls out pictures from his breast pocket and spreads them out on the night table. They are the pictures of his mother, little sisters, sweetheart, or his wife and children, or at least, a cat. And the sailor is looking at them with nostalgia, and quietly, just for himself, sobs. And those sailors who came as far as from Bohemia; in the evening gather in one corner of the room with the bottle of water from iceberg and they are singing in Czech with Chodsky dialect: "In our village square a boy is yodeling: God, oh dear God, I am missing her."
So, all the songs and tales about drunken sailors are made up, and they are outrageous lies. It's the truth, some individuals are seeking bars and they are asking questions about brothels, but all brothels are already closed, and brothel mama tells them: "Boys, go to the bed, we close at seven o'clock evening. The girls drank their glass of milk , and they are already in bed listening to story about Ali Baba and forty thieves. We open at six o'clock morning, and first ten customers will get a free bun with milk, and for those, who didn't get enough of sleep, we serve a chamomile tea."

Sun

New day gets up.
It wears gray sky.
Where is the Sun?
It's basking its feet
down in Belize,
Argentina, or Mexico.
Children write him a letter:
Dear Sun, come soon,
it's cold and wintry here.
I am busy here now.
Enjoy your snow,
build snowmen,
sled and ski.
I'll send you
a box of oranges
via UPS
on my way
to the beach.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, January 2011

Pottery town - Sunset of pottery fairs

The fair grew so enormous, that the City had to turn some potters down. The potters, of course, didn't like it and they began to open pottery markets in the neighboring towns and farther, the same way like the circles in the water after somebody throws a rock. The Pottery fairs were not once a year, but each month, and then every week, but always on Thursdays. Some greedy potters began to have fairs each day, but not many buyers showed up. Why have we to travel to the Fair, when we can go there each day? The households were overflowing with the pottery, and also people began to be more careful with the breaking the dishes. "It costs money." The potters started to deliver their goods directly to the stores. "Why have we trudge to the Pottery fairs, when they are everywhere?" Italian tiles merchant founded tile factory in the nearby town with the sign "Export" and shipped the tiles in bulk. The pottery fairs ceased to be every day, they continue each week, then each third Thursday in the month, and not even then too many buyers showed up. The fairs were reduced to one pottery fair a year and the glory became a tradition. "Buy our clay whistles, they are good for play and sports."
There was a conflict over the spice-boxes. Both, Pottery town and Pottery village claimed their production. The manufacturer of glass won. "In our glass you see what you are buying, so you can not buy any hare in clay." Also in the same time the historical societies expressed their interest to buy clay spice-boxes to have something to show to the visitors. It was very hard to obtain a complete set - usually there was always something missing or broken.
Brown's family doesn't break their pottery anymore. "We have to save. The boys and a girl would like to go to the college and it cost money." The local potters still make their pitchers, jugs and mugs. The boys and girls walk with them directly to the brewery to get draft beer. Their parents are usually so lubricated, so they can not go by themselves.
The End

Copyright (c) written in Czech
Marie Neumann, January 2011
Copyright (c) English translation
Marie Neumann, February 2011

Pottery town - Police

The situation was so bad the City called Philadelphia for a law enforcement. They also turned for help to Camden, but Camden answered they have plenty of their own thieves. New York promised to help according to: I shall scratch your back if you you will scratch mine.
In February, near to the Pottery fair day, the policemen, detectives, and the plain clothes policemen took a week training, where they learned about thieves psychology, thieving techniques, a prowess of their fingers, and how to sneak to the thieves from the side and the back. Those who were extremely good knew, how to pick thieves pockets looking straight into their eyes.
So it happened that one successful thief returned home from the market, called mom and children, and in front of them put his hands into his, now empty pockets, and began to pull out crumbs, broken pieces of chewing gum, and the crumpled balls of paper tissues. His family laughed at him and continued to dry their mouths in front off the stove, or outside in the sun.
So, thanks to to skillful police, the pick pockets didn't have a good time in the City. Police practiced, in their free time, their skills as amateur magicians. One plain clothes policeman pulled out of school inspector wallet a silver dollar for what he received five minutes standing ovations.
City police, detectives, and plain clothes policemen were asked to come to help to the cities with the large population of thieves. They were successful, brought home money, and could see the world.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, February 2011

Pottery town - Thieving trade

Unfortunately, with the blooming pottery trade, began to flourish another one - thieving. So in the time of pottery fair were heading for town not only potters and buyers, but all kind of thieves, robbers, prowlers, trouble makers, criminals, felons, culprits, villains, sticky five fingers, or four, when they didn't have one, pick pockets, petty thieves, rogues, rascals, mischiefs, tricksters, and crooks. Surprisingly, not many drunks and drug addicts showed up. Drunks and drug addicts didn't handle their body parts very well, they knocked down something and the potters were right there chasing them away. And women potters were lashing loud their tongues well. Everyone could hear them a block away. So drunks and druggies ran and didn't stop until at town periphery, where they rolled a cigarette with their shaky fingers, they even couldn't spit, because all spit dried up, when they were running, and went to try their luck to the pubs, or malls.
In the time of pottery fair the lawyers took a vacation time and flew to Miami to play golf and get suntan, or to some distant golf courses.
It happened to the potters, that they returned home without all profits, and the buyers missed not only money and credit cards, but their wallets, all change, pocketbooks, scarves and gloves as well. The beginning of March is still cold. One shopper took off a shoe with a sock to get a rid of a rock, but the shoe, brown sock, and little rock disappeared. This went to far.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, January 2011

Pottery town - Industrious clay products

The pottery filled town square and flooded adjacent streets. The cars parked in suburbs and outside of town. People could get to town on foot. To the suburbs was possible to take a bus, or one horse trolley. The handcarts become handy. When somebody purchased more then he could carry, he asked for the handcart, the seller loaded it, and the buyer brought it to his car and left the handcart there. Skillful boy on rolling skates, or a skateboard delivered the handcart back.
In adjoining streets was a market with industrious day products, like clay buckets, throws, butter churns, barrels, canisters, containers, kettles and vats, heavy Mexican ovens, gutters, pipes, chutes, grooves, channels and washtubs.
One day an Italian merchant with ceramic tiles showed up, he enjoyed pizza, and began with his business. He brought one hundred tile samples: the tiles for the bathroom, kitchen and the walls, and the tiles for the floors. Of course, the potters who where at the pottery fair since the beginning didn't stay behind and they began to produce decorative tiles. "Buy a tile for each occasion." "Give a poem written on the tile for a Birthday, a name day, and anniversary. "You can hang them on the wall." And the one potter started to make bird tiles: "Do bird watching with the tiles of Mr. Downing." "You can have a nice owl collection with our tiles."

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, January 2011

Click, click, click

Click, click, click goes fountain pen. I ignore it. Typing slows down, more errors occur. Click, click, click. Concentrate, think about something else; or use a pencil. Click, click, click. I chew on pencil. Do not eat a lead. I chew and spit out splinters. Click, click, click. Compulsion becomes obsession. If I'll hear click, click, click one more time I shall scream. I couldn't resist. Click, click, click. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/19/2011

Pottery town - Games

Pottery town, or Pottery village is named after a memorable Mr. Pott and not after pots. I all made it up. Of course you can buy all kind of pots here. There is one absolutely adorable polka dot pitcher in the shopping window. You can also take pottery classes...
"Manicka, I am sorry, I am not going to shoot for you any clay heart in the pottery range, but if you like you can have mine".
There is a stand dedicated to licking of pots; pots from sauces, honey, large bowls from bread, cake dough, and others doughs; scraping the bowls from Christmas cookies and pots used by bad cooks. People with the skills can make their own bowl, or a custom made chamber pot.
Potters were also bringing unsuccessful pottery and those pieces were dedicated for shooting range. "Learn to aim with your own rock into pots instead of people." Admission fee was little bit higher, but it was compensated by satisfaction of the customer, when he hit an askew pitcher.
Because March is still cold, there was a long, low, heated building. At the entrance the potter apprentices were chopping the clay. There was a huge shallow bath for those with restless feet. "Kneed your own clay." People were looking, with great satisfaction, at the clay pressing and oozing between their toes. Especially city people enjoyed this creative pass time.
The pool full of clay was for folk and disco dancers. Especially solid clay attracts clog dancers.
For children there were pools, where they could build mountains, castles, trenches, dams and mud pies. On the display is a model of Mariana trench built by KJN.
They are warm showers in the building and dressing rooms. Parents do not forget to bring sets of clean clothes for their children, because these activities are unusually messy. After a day in play with clay, children fall asleep in the moment, when they touch car seats.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, January 2011

Pottery town - Earthenware 2

And there were potters with the baking forms; small fish and the big fish for whole family, Easter lamb and an Easter bunny; simple or marble, or sponge cake forms, simple, or with the stripes to the right, or to the left. "The cake forms we make single, or for more layers. If you have big oven, purchase more cake forms, or pans."
Favorite were pans and small pans for one with one, or two handles, handy for pulling the hot pan out of the oven. The pans were made for one, two, family size, lasagna, turkey, and even one for a piglet.
Next to the stand with the pans were clay money banks in the shape of a pig, frog, or a chicken. It was possible to buy a small, low income piggy bank, or for who saved sparingly, or the big piggy banks for who who could save lavishly. "Our sow will save you a fortune."
Almost each stand sells a colorful clay marbles for the girls and boys. "For one dollar you can have one hundred, and if you pay more, it will be a full bag."
Buyers could get mugs with chubby cheeks, or potbellied; cookie containers with the lids. "In our cookie jar your cookies will not spoil. Just do not put them out of reach of children." "Place our mugs on your shelves. They will look good in your cupboards and in your china cabinet, too." "Nothing will please more your heart like our clay pots."
Clay spice-boxes were crossing the borders. "He marry well with our spices." "Spices in our glazed spice-boxes with tight lids will stay fresh for many years." "With our spice-boxes each plane is flying to all countries." "Our spice-boxes are in the window of my publisher."
"Buy our clay dolls from St. Clair. They are smiling even when they fall on the floor." "Our clay vases look good on the wall or table. Only fool will not buy them." "With our clay you will learn fast to speak Spanish. The clay is imported from Mexico."
Clay toys sold well. They broke fast and have had to be replaced. Everybody new that the children were coming from pottery fair by the whistles of a little, painted clay birds filled with water.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, January 2011

Pottery town - Earthenware

Pottery trade flourished. So the City with a mayor in the head decided, that pottery fair will be first Thursday in March, but nobody wanted to wait for leap year, so it will be every year. The town square was filled with the merchandise, potters, buyers and onlookers. Beer pitchers, mugs and jugs were very popular. Potters made them in majolica, glazed, enameled, decorative, and with all kind of flowery patterns. The pitchers decorated with beer foam around a neck, with the picture of a beer wave and a surfer on the top were clearly number one.
Decorated plates, soup plates, saucers and bowls with circles; big peripheral circles, then smaller and smaller, and just little in the middle were success. The producers of cups and mugs didn't want to stay behind and came up with the name mugs: forget-me-not pattern for Jane, little roses for Mary, and daffodils for Hedvika. Of course, all mug potters were making faces: "The name mugs, it's nothing new. We sell them for long time. "Yes, but not in clay."
The manufactures of chamber pots and potties decorated them with peonies and a slogan: "Our potty will snug around your butt." "We carry pots and potties of all sizes."
And there were decorative potters of wall plates: our dishes into each family, and a good cook uses only our eartenware.
The bowls favored a pretzel pattern. Yellow pretzels circled the bowl and there was one bigger pretzel with two smily eyes on the bottom. Dogs and cat bowls were decorated with tasty bones and yummy mice. Canary dish had a seed pattern. The large bowls to make batter and dough carried a bread, bun, scone, cake, tart, or pie pattern. Flowerpots were on sale in rectangular or oblong shape: Our flowerpots will save space on your windowsill.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, January 2011

A desperate cat

They took all my food! A cat is jumping, leaping, running with his bushy tail high. They came and took whole my bag - and my litter box, too. What am I going to do? I'll have to starve to the death while somebody's cat is, on my food, getting fat. The cat is desperate. It's a matter of life and death. He meows and meows. I hold him in my arms, then tuck him under the blankets in my bed. Kitty, we will have to move. This is what we can do. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/16/2010

Pottery town - How the fair started 2

She also began to think. About what her husband and children will say, when they see their dining room, from what they will eat. From what they will eat the cat and the dog, because she didn't save their dishes either.
Mrs. Brown took a shower, she dressed, combed her hair, and began to clean up all broken dishes. By the noon she filled their two garbage cans, and before her children came home from school, with the permission of her neighbors, filled their garbage cans as well. The neighbors began to ask the questions, what happened, and Mrs. Brown already thought about the answer. "The cat and the dog were chasing each other and they broke everything." The neighbors believed, or didn't, they knew Mrs. Brown has had a temper, but they didn't see anything, so they couldn't talk.
Mrs. Brown served snacks for children on paper plates. In the evening her husband came home from work, the cat and the dog better didn't show up, and Mrs. Brown served to her husband and her children dinner on the paper altogether with the same story. The cat and the dog sat in the basement and were telling each other, how that woman knows how to tell lies, but they couldn't do anything, so they were hungry waiting for children to bring them something to eat. Late in the evening, after their parents went to the bed, children brought the food, also on the paper plates. Meanwhile the news about the Browns eating out of the paper soon filtered out, and the first two salesmen with the pottery dishes showed up on Thursday. Mrs. Brown purchased plenty of dishes, and other people as well. The potters have had a good day and the news about good sales spread into neighboring towns. This was the beginning of the pottery fair in the Pottery town.
Pottery town, the ladies and gentlemen,
the Pottery town pays the most.
When there is a fair, travel there.
It's a potter's haven.
Nothing hurts so much
as do not show
at pottery fair
in the pottery valley.
All potters, lets travel there,
its potters haven.
When there was the first anniversary, a town square was full of potters and also buyers. So this was the beginning of Pottery Fair in Pottery town.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, January 2011

Pottery town - How the fair started

Mrs. Brown was temperamental young lady. There is a rumor going on she was also red headed, not only hair, but also her eyebrows and eyes were red. There is an old photograph of her, but it is only black and white, so it is hard to decide, because nothing is based on scientific fact. It was probably only a rumor. So this lady with strawberry blond hair woke up one morning with her left foot, and how she was trying to stand up, she stepped on her dog's tail. The dog was snoozing, it didn't expect any attack, it got scared, and bit Mrs. Brown's ankle. She was ready to kick it. The dog was mix up breed and it didn't wait, it took off on time, and Mrs. Brown's left foot kicked the air. She lost her balance and ended up in one heap on the floor.
Mrs. Brown woke up late, children already left for school, and left the table full of crumbs, spilled milk, and burnt toast. In the middle of the table sat a cat and was busy licking spilled milk. Mrs. Brown got mad. She didn't have anything proper near her hand, so she threw a chair after the cat. The cat, of course, didn't wait, he took off and disappeared. The chair broke all the dishes on the table, including milk jug, sugar bowl, butter dish, mugs, plates and a vase with fresh cut flowers full of water. Her nerves were not able to handle this situation. She began to pull all cups, saucers, mugs and plates out of the cupboards, and threw them in all directions. Then she began to cry.
It relieved her stress. She found one cup only without a handle, she made a coffee, sat on the chair, lit a cigarette, and began to observe a disaster area she was responsible for. It happened February, 29.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, January 2011

Pottery town

Written for 200. anniversary of town Pottery town, or ceramic village, is well known for its production of pots of all shapes, sizes, colors, and thicknesses. Besides pots, there is an abundance of bowls, plates, saucers, mugs, lids and small lids, tureens, jugs and pitchers - decorated or plain; coffee cups and mugs, potties and chamber pots, toys, flower pots and figures of all kind. When there is a pottery fair, usually first Thursday after February 29, be very careful, where you step, because the pots are everywhere. The sidewalks are full, they cover shopping windows, advertisements, and spread out into parking lots. Do not wave your arms, because when you knock down only one cup you will hear a flood of strong words from a salesman, and usually, a potter in one. "Watch your step, you clumsy clod," and "What do you think who will pick up all broken pieces?" Humiliated buyer picks up broken pieces, the salesman wraps them into pink, or other color tissue paper, or just an old newspaper. He makes a little package, ties it with a string and makes nice bow - and he sells them for an original, full price. So "clumsy clod" takes home broken pieces of a vase, he buys glue, and in the evenings he glues pieces together, altogether with fingers and the clothes he wears on. "Buy a dozen of our cups, so you will have enough to break in your marriage." There is no pottery clay around the town, so the potters bring it from Great Canyon. This is why there is such a gigantic hole in the ground. But the citizens of the State of Arizona declared that's enough is enough, they don't want any deeper hole in their back yard, because another day a tourist fell into it, together with a donkey, and the donkey broke all four its legs. The tourist lost his camera, and the Great Canyon have had to pay for it. The donkey went to hungarian salami. Now potters are looking for new deposits of clay. There suppose to be plenty of pottery clay in New Mexico and Texas. Popular are beer mugs, buttermilk jugs, and water pitchers. Merchandise is high quality, glazed, or varnished, with the picture of contemplating miner sitting on the coal boulder. Pottery town girls are hitching up their miniskirts and roll up tight jeans, when is pottery fair, so they will not brush against the mountains of pottery dishes. Purses and handbags are usually left home, so they couldn't graze, by sheer accident, the merchandise. Parking lots are packed with cars, pick up trucks and trucks of buyers, which are coming from the distance. "Pots for sale, heigh-ho, pots for sale." "Manicka, buy a cuppa, or I, at least shoot for you a clay hearta." "Mister, in this pitcher your beer will not get warm, and, how I look at your belly, will not get flat, either." "Flowers in our pitcher will decorate your table and will look fresh for long time," loudly declare salespersons. Really, there is a great fun to be at pottery fair, just to walk, observe and listen. Do not miss it for anything and bring home at least a cup, or a little bowl for your cat or a dog." Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, January 2011

Mineral rights

I purchased a little lot at the cemetery. I do not know which cemetery. Children will have to find out. I feel better since I own it. Nobody will be able to kick me out from that cemetery. The lot is mine. Isn't it? I didn't ask anything about mineral rights. When we purchased our first house we had mineral rights. The land was ours to the Center of Earth. What about mine six feet under? I think I don't care.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 2/6/2011

Black birds

Run, little girl, run. The birds are flying in the sky. They circle lower and lower. Little girl, don't take your time, take skies, or barefoot, just run. The little girl disappeared. An old toothless hag is grinning in the window. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/2/2010

Questions

What is Mashenka doing? She crumbles crumbs for the geese. What is she crumbles? Crumbs. Why is she crumbles? To make them fat. Why have they be fat? To fit into a frying pan. Enough of questions. It's time to sleep. Why have I a belly button? A skin has to end somewhere. What was he doing at a concert? He pissed into an audience. Why? He didn't find a toilet. She prefers married men. Does it pay off? She doesn't have to press shirts. Will she also get hit over her head with a handbag? We shall see. Now it's time to sleep, when I satisfied your curiosity. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville. 1/20/2010