Lullaby

Dear old man we have to enter your body to remove a source of your pain to make you feel well. You are going to sleep. Do you want me to sing a little lullaby to make you sleep? We already counted all your blood cells, checked your body functions, we counted your heart beats. We know your chemistry. We took your x-rays, we even were thinking about your brain. Everything should go well. Go to sleep, dear old man, so you will not feel a scalpel. When you will wake up you will feel groggy, this where a recovery begins. Doctor, you didn't sing me a lullaby. Sorry, I don't sing well. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 7/27/2010

Geezers

Geezers are sitting on the perch. No, I wanted to say on the bench. "Who are they?" asks new aide. They are geezers. They sit on the bench, enjoy sunshine, and observe traffic. They enjoy life in its fullest. Say to them "Hi" and exchange a word or two. You are young, they'll be pleased talking to you. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 7/25/2009

Lost key

I am a key to your super duper flying machine. I am hiding, so you can not find me. I am not under the carpet, not in the cupboard, I am not in your wallet. I was on your key chain, but I was lost. I am the key to your super duper flying machine. You can put ad in the newspaper: One key is lost. People will bring you hundreds and thousands all kind of keys. They will be knocking on your door. I am your key and I am lost. Your flying machine is useless - - I hope. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 7/21/2010

Integrity

I lost my integrity I was so proud off. "She has integrity," people whispered; and said aloud, too. I even heard words: "She is genuine." And I proudly walked, stiff as a board. I didn't know how to lie. An open book to my fault. Today I lie, make up stories, ask back: "Why do you ask?" and "Why do you want to know?" I am having more fun. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 7/21/2010

Pigeon

I walked down the street and than turned right. A man was trying to catch something into a box. What is it? a puppy, a kitten, squirrel, or a rat? He was successful and closed a lid on the box. Around, on the ground, were feathers. I asked: "What do you have in your box?" Inside the box was white and grey pigeon with pink beak. "He has broken wing. He was on the street heading for the road. Something would run over him." "It is a beautiful pigeon." The pigeon was looking at us, but didn't try to escape. "They are many sparrows on those trees. They are aggressive and this is what they have done to him." "What are you going to do with him?" "His wing has to heal." "There is an animal clinic tonight on Pearl Street. They are giving rabies shots. They might look at him." I do not know the end of the story, but I am sure the man did everything to save the pigeon.

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

Novy byk

Bavi se dve mlade jalovice na pastve. "Je to tu nuda dneska." "Uz jsi pocitala auta?" "Jo. Stala jsem u ohrady nejmene hodinu a za celou tu dobu projelo jedno jedine kaslave auto." "Co budeme delat?" "Ja nevim. Pas se, kouka sem tvoje mama." "Co se takhle bavit o bejcich?" "O bejcich? Vzdyt je tu jenom jeden a to je nas tata." "Pojd ho drazdit." Jalovice projdou kolem byka, ale ten si jich nevsima. Zkusi to jeste jednou, tentokrat projdou tesne kolem nosu. Stracena ocasem zavadi o krouzek v nosu. Byk zabuci. To uz je tu jedna mama a jalovice odezene. "Co vas to napada drazdit byka?" "Vsimla jsi si, jak mu visi moudi?" Jalovice se zakuckaji travou a uz slysi vyhruzne zabuceni obou krav matek. "Mamo, dostaneme noveho byka? Tenhle je nas tata a uz je nejaky stary." "Slysela jsem, ze pujdete do noveho stada, kde bude mladsi byk." "Jakou bude mit barvu?" "Je, ja bych chtela mit cernobile telatko." "Holky, nemyslete na hlouposti a zerte." "Ty, Maleno..." "Co?" Jalovice prezvykuje. "Byla jsi uz tamhle u tech kericku?" "Proc?" "Roste tam takova aromaticka trava. Kdyz ji sezeres, tak se ti mota hlava." Jalovice se pomalu presunou ke kerikum, aby nevzbudily pozornost. Zerou travu. Pak zacnou skakat a vyvadet. Pokouseji se preskakovat pres kere. "Co to tam maji?" "Snad nechytily strecka?" Matky se k jalovicim rozbehnou poklusem a odezenou jalovice od keriku. Ale to uz se jalovicim motaji nohy, podklesavaji v kolenou a nakonec padnou na travu a spi. Matky si vzdychnou a nechaji je spat. "Uz aby je odehnaly do noveho stada s novym bejkem. Jinak nedaji pokoj." "Uz ho maji?" "Farmar odjel na aukci. Chce holstynaka. Asi jednoho priveze." "Stracena by chtela cernobile telatko." "Ta si toho navymysli. Vezme, co bude a bude rada."
Jalovice probudi nocni rosa a vyti kojotu. "Mne boli hlava." "Ja mam zizen." Cele stado spi, kdyz jdou k napajedlu. Dlouze piji. Malena zvraci. "Mne je spatne." "Tak si lehni." "Mne je spatne i kdyz lezim." Nemely jsme to zrat." "Kdyz mne se po tom zdaly krasne sny." Prosim te, jake?" "O tom, ze zpivam v opere. Tobe se nic nezdalo?" "Zdalo." "Co?" "O tom, ze mam telatko. Bylo cernobile, byl to bycek a ja mu ukazala tu travu, co jsme sezraly, a rekla mu, ze ji nesmi zrat. A on poslechl. Byl to hodny bycek." A za chvili: "Uz je ti lepe?" "Trosku. Pojd spat."
Cele stado spi. Vpovzdali vyji kojoti, zatimco kovboj objizdi stado. Obema jalovicim se zda o novem byku.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/8/2011

Resilience

I hate to tell you, but Pegasus is a snob and unicorn is pulling potato wagon in Idaho. Czech and Moravian water men never made it into New World. They drowned in the salty sea. Fairies are hiding in the deep gullies stealing lunch provisions from the tourists. Veelas danced away and nobody knows where. Only witches and goblins flourish dressed in long evening gowns and tuxedos flocking stock markets. When witches come home in the night they turn off TV and tell their children stories about enchanted forests, weird women steeling little children in the hot noon and church bells ringing each evening at six. Little witch children squeal in fright and are afraid of unicorns, talking mice, walking dogs, and mechanical toys. Chicken-like spruce grouse living in boreal forest are about to be extinct. Correction: They are plentiful in Ontario. In my memories I am still going thorough beautifully colored children books of my childhood recalling water man's silly song about his cobbler job, when he is sitting on the willow tree and inside of the hollow is a pot of gold waiting to be retrieved. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 7/5/2010

Lazy day

It is one of those days I pretend I am busy What I have done so far: I put away a sweater and made a sink full of dirty dishes. I woke up at six in the morning and had big plans for the day. The flat will be spic and span clean I shall write couple of new poems, and of course I shall go for long and sweaty walk, to do the nature watch (especially squirrels and the birds). I changed a cat litter, read a newspaper, listened to one CD and now a have to do the dirty dishes. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 7/3/2010

Alcoholic's wife

I had skirts, blouses and dresses to wear for my job. I needed to look nice. Now, who has it all is an alcoholic's wife. She has a husband. daughter and a dog. She also has a car, and a heart condition, so she doesn't work. Yes, she has it all and she wants more. She will never be satisfied until she will die. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 6/25/2010

Pegasus

Another night Pegasus flew by my window. He didn't stop to say: H". Standing in mid' air fanning his wings he said: I do not like yours, how do you call them? "Poems?" They even do not rhyme. Your English is far bellow of language of Great poets, and to be honest, even your Czech stinks. I am flying to have a tea with a real poet and she is only fifteen. In what language? I asked. He didn't answer and passed by fluttering his wings like helicopter's blades heading toward a hospital's pad. Medics are in the hurry to save another patient's live. Copyright (c) Marie neumann Pottsville, 7/1/2009