Peeing

I was standing in the line for the tickets to the swimming pool. In front of me was a young mother with about four years old boy. Little boy pulled impatiently his mother's hand. "Mom, hurry, I have to go to pee into the pool." Mom answered: "Little boy, pee into the swimming pool is no, no. First we are going to use the toilet and then we will go for swim." They went to the changing room, and because the boy was little, he could join his mother. There he peed into the toilet. Then they went swimming. Little boy, of course, had to tell to other boys about his adventure with the toilet. And of course, the other boys have had to follow what the little boy have done, except they were not aloud into women's changing area. What they did in the men's room I don't know, but they were proud about themselves. Of course, little girls, soon found out about boys' secret activities by very innocent eavesdropping. "Big deal", they said. "What they can do, we can do by sitting." And they did what they said. From that time nobody pied into the swimming pool anymore. The boys and the girls tossed the ball, dived, they did the handstand with the legs sticking out of the pool, and they learned how to swim. It didn't matter when they had a little drink of water here, or there. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, about 2010

Teenagers

In these days people complain how much teenagers eat. I remember my son. We joked he will eat us out of the house. In one year he grew eight inches. "He isn't so bad. It's girls." Time to build bones, time to grow muscles. Eat. We have to eat. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 11/11/2010

Art of shopping

Til' today I was thinking, that shopping is about spending money, killing time, and about getting "five minutes pleasure", when you buy something, what you like, usually clothes, perfume, jewelry, or a nice scarf. I go shopping because I have to, usually with a list of items we need: groceries, detergents and cleaning needs. Of course I forget shopping list at home and have to buy from memory, and I am not talking about coupons, which are still resting in a box on the top of a fridge..\br Today I went to buy a chair for a desk. My idea was to get to the store, grab the chair, pay for it, and get out. Wrong! I found six bars of a soap on a dollar table, and not a single chair suitable for the desk. The soap was for regular price. Somebody just put it there.\br My friend goes shopping every day. She comes home with practical things like economical and highly efficient vacuum cleaner, energy saving bulbs, and the lamps spreading nice, soft circle of a light in the evenings. She knows how to systematically build inviting, cozy, and comfortable home. I don't. I am rumbling about spending money. She just wants to be comfortable.\br My room is a mess. Papers, which should be discarded a long time ago, are lying everywhere, and of course, collect dust. Nobody wants to come to sit in my room. It is not inviting. I create chaos. She builds home.\br Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, PA (not that in Texas). 11/9/2012

Celebration

I met them at the meeting: grandmother, mother and daughter with her own children. There were four generations of women coming. Mother was ill and still coming to help others. Mother was dying. There was a funeral. I didn't come, because I overlooked a notice in the paper. I didn't go, because I hate funerals and forgot to come for the living. After the funeral I asked: how was the funeral? "We celebrated her life." Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 11/1/2012

A letter

You wrote me you will wait till' Spring time and then you will die. I hope you will change your mind and wait to see your new grandchild, and be happy, so you forget about dying. In the case you will not change your mind and you will go to Heaven, I hope you will meet Jack's wife, and you will become close friends. How? There will be not a language barrier. Language is such in-perfect tool for communication anyway. You will teach her how to knit and crochet. Your hands, forearms and elbows will not hurt, so you could do, what you liked to do. There you two will be sitting, happily clicking needles, creating new fashions, taking wool from the white clouds, and dressing all little angels. After a while you two become tired of white color, so you will also use gray clouds, pink and yellow from the sunset and sunrise. You don't like to use wool from dark, angry clouds, It is to wet anyway. All little angels will be happy, because they could sit on the clouds and blend with them, so nobody will see them. It is one of the rules: not to be seen. After another while you will begin to dream about luscious green of the grass, deep red of the roses, rich yellow buttercups, and you will begin to ask: what happens to the rainbow after it fades? Nothing disappears without traces. May we use the colors from the rainbows to dress little angels? Your activity is pleasant to my eyes, you are not selfish, and you think about others and not about yourself. Yes, you may. So Rosalie and Joan are knitting sweaters, hats, socks, scarves and mittens in rainbow colors, and soon all Heaven is as colorful as Earth. They look like clowns, some conservative complains. This suppose to be Heaven and not Earth. Never mind, is an answer. Clowns bring laughter. Did you have enough of it, when you lived on Earth? Rosalie and Joan also invented cases for the angels' wings in the colors of butterflies and rainbows. When the first putties appeared in the sky fluttering their wings, they heard a hearty, belly laughter: I invented everything, but cases for the wings of my little angels. I am silly. I wish you happy life in Heaven, when I should wish you long and happy live on Earth. Your little sister. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 9/22/2012

The best where to ride a bike is ...

Of course first what comes into my mind is where not to ride a bike ... Not to learn to ride on your older brother's bike, when one foot is on the pedal and second leg has to be under the stick. Riding the bike in the circles where my brother was a center; and then he lets go ... Nice, flat surface without rocks is fine. Also to learn how to steer is very helpful. With such a skill you can ride the bike practically anywhere, two wheels economically placed behind each other, can fit. There was an end of a flat surface and it was downhill. It is helpful to ride the bike, when you know how to step on the brake, and where is the brake located. Then you can ride the bike practically anywhere, when you feel it is important to interrupt a motion. Speeding I wasn't able to locate the brakes and ended up inside of half demolished house. It was a better option, because if I knew how to steer I could end up under a car on the busy street under the hill. A lesson: to avoid busy streets, half demolished houses and you can ride your bike practically everywhere. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann POW! 9/8/2012

Leaf

Leaf in the water floating quietly, motionlessly. Sign of the autumn. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, August 20. 2012

Lost love

Little tabby is meowing behind a kitchen door, and then she runs in quickly so nobody will smell her shame. "He didn't want me - I am spayed, and I just wanted to look at them." I see him walking our path hand in hand with another gal. World stopped and a heart missed a beat. There will be another one to fill his place. What about a little revenge? Look at a tree. It is full of blooming flowers. The heart will heal and the World didn't stop. It was only illusion. Keep going and wait. Another will come your way. Fill your time with dreams. Do you know the best way how to kill your dreams? Fulfill them. And then what? Learn to cook, mend bad moods, raise the children, tend a garden, and say us instead I. What about lost love? Sweet sorrow bathing in self -pity. Be real. It's time to do your homework. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 9/24/2012 POW assignment

Chasing a man (Teenage memories)

He is hiding\br behind a truck.\br I can see\br only his feet\br on the other side\br of a truck.\br They hesitate. Which way will she go?\br I am quiet.\br He turns to the left.\br Here I am\br with a big smile\br on my face.\br I can not go with you.\br I am married man.br Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, August 2012

Track & field

Where is a field? Running in the field, jumping over the hedges, chased by an angry farmer with a pitchfork, setting world record to escape farmer's weapon. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 8/10/2012

Childhood memories

Running, falling, scraping both knees, blood is running, crying. There is always somebody near to help to wash, to clean, to dry tears. Sleeping comfortably beside a big warm body, next to a woman, who gave me a life. There is an emptiness. Dad is missing. Learning the hard way how the World works. Do not tie a cat in the attic, because I am called for supper and I want to play with her more, when I will be back and I know this cat will not wait,she is already tired of my childish games and she has more important things to attend. I didn't know the cat will try to escape and doesn't know, how to climb a ladder. I just learned, how to tie a knot and learned it well. The cat was found barely alive. The childhood full of mistakes, also full of laughter, when they made the toys just for me. Childhood full of games. It wasn't pretend. The dolls were alive, sick, or well. We were selling and buying, and haggle over green currency paid in leaves. My friends were real, we understood what is right, and what is wrong when we played. We played imitating real life, always with the best friend on the side we could share. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Potsville, 7/18/2012

Leaking

We have leaking roof. Bathroom sink is leaking into DVD player, and a car purchased from used cars lot is leaking in several places. Drain pipe is leaking into our basement. Our pots and pans do not leak yet. It looks like our happiness leaks from several places. Is it something like too much happiness? Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, May 2012

Jolly good

Tangled roots, clusters of bulbs, teeny seeds, one pack for dollar, everything in soil, ready for Spring, sunshine and rain to grow. Something is all ready growing. They must be zinnia seeds. No, the plants are too big. It must be something what came from bird feeder seeds. No, definitely, they are not giant zinnias. They must be future brooms. Tangled roots, cut into pieces, are making their home on the bank of a brook. Sitting in the soil, basking in sunshine, sucking water, I almost can hear them saying: jolly good. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 6/18/2012

Homemade ice-tea

Henry is brewing his own ice-tea. We don't have a samovar. He has his own machine, although he uses tea bags, sets up his machine, ads sweetener and water, no oranges, or lemons, just plain tea. Machine brews for hours- - like espresso. At the end of process he brews from three to five gallons of his own diet ice-tea, which lasts him for weeks. I sit, drink coffee and watch, how Henry is brewing his own diet ice-tea. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 6/14/2012

A walk

I will go with you for a walk around the lake, but not on this hot day. I will go with you, when it rains, in the morning, or at the sunset. I'll make my way thorough deep snow, and in the freezing rain. Just don't ask me to walk with you in such hot, humid day. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 5/28/2012

Rats

Marching stiffly to the sound of a rat catchers's pipe. There is a big cheese in the pond. Running toward it, mouth is watering, ready to taste it. Wet rats are swimming back to the banks. Big gold cheese? It was nothing there. Where is the rat catcher? Lets tear him in to the pieces! Lets eat him! The catcher is already playing his pipe in another town. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 5/22/2012

Wrong place

Wrong building, wrong door. I am clutching an invitation in my hand. Wrong building, wrong door, and a wrong name, too. It is time to catch a train to my town, go home and cook a supper. I see your eyes, your smile ... Wrong person, too. I boarded a wrong train, which takes me to the places I have never been before. There will be a new morning soon, new dew will wash away all yesterday's mistakes. Why I still see your face, your smiling eyes, when I know nothing lasts? Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 5/19/2012

Little mole

My little mole is building again another mountain mainly out of his vivid imagination and worries, justified or projected. Then he jumps back into his hole, slams the door shut. "There is a big mountain outside of the door." To his bed he crawls. Where are my worries? You left them on your mountain. He sleeps. Then he wakes up, makes a cup of coffee, when he drinks it, he thinks: It's clean up day. He opens the door, sweeps couple of old leaves. Where is my mountain? It is not the mountain at all: just a little mole hill. I decorated my mountain with all kind flowers colors of rainbow I could find to bloom all year around. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, April 2012

Broken mothers

Broken hearts of broken mothers, broken wings of cemetery angels. Broken hearts of poor mothers and the babies are for sale. The babies from poor cribs to their own rooms full of toys, with a good school, good food, vacation abroad, great carriers, stop from time to time in a quiet moment and they ask: Who am I? Where did I come from? Sometimes is better do not know. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville,2/2012

Character defects

I don't have small feet and hands, and I can not stretch six feet tall. And I didn't tell you yet I have so many character defects you could cover with them a bottom of your aquarium instead of sand. Your little fish will be gulping my character defects and turning them into red, green and yellow, or they will be sleeping slowly moving their fins. They will eat you out of the house, because suddenly they will develop a ravenous appetite. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 3/2012

Pain

Describe your pain on the scale from one to ten. One is a rock in your shoe you have to take out. Two is a dirt in your eye. Three is a bee sting, if you are not allergic to bee sting. Four is Sun burn when you have to spend whole night sleeping on your tummy. Five is when you see love of your life walking away with another gal. Six and up ... I don't want to know. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 5/8/2012

Paranoia 2

They are sniffing. What are they sniffing? I don't know. What do you know? They are sniffing. Go away, Salieri. You didn't change your socks. You stink. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Spring 2007

A basket of clothes pins

Since we moved, I am looking for my basket of wooden clothes pins. I looked in all corners of a basement and on the shelves above washer and dryer;searched a bathroom. I even looked in an attic, but the attic turned into a storage. That would mean to move mattresses, broken and empty trunks, portable toilet and who knows what kind junk is there. I know I will keep looking.
I could buy another little, wicker basket (I already bought new wooden pins fifty for $1.00 at Family Dollar store), but I want my old basket of clothes pegs. I want, I want, I want.
I moved a lot past ten years and everywhere I went the basket traveled with me and somehow it didn't get lost in moving process. What the basket full of old wooden pegs means to me? A wish I'll have my clothes line back, where I can hang freshly washed laundry, sorted by size, color and by assortment of garments. I always hang the same socks together, otherwise the line looks untidy. Our washer produces nice, clean laundry. The Sun is shining in this beautiful Spring morning. It is a perfect day for hanging laundry outside. Later during the day I'll go out to collect dry laundry. Tonight we are going to sleep well in fresh, clean bed sheets dried by Sun and a little breeze.
When we went on a trip to Philadelphia I noticed many statues, but I stood a long time in front of a giant clothes peg - a symbol of Monday morning fresh washed laundry.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 4/30/2012

Chicken is falling

Chicken is falling down from a sky. Catch it, William, bake it and eat it. Meanwhile you can think why chickens are falling down from the sky. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 4/27/2011

A toy

I have a sawdust in my head. I am a toy. Hands and legs made of rugs are on the strings. The legs shuffle and arms move trying to catch a bowl, a butterfly - never catching anything. The hands clasp handful of air. Relax, relax. Mouth is moving. I don't hear a sound. Hearing is shutting off. Suddenly I can not talk. It doesn't make any sense. It's senseless. Strings hang from the hook. Puppets are sleeping until next show. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville,4/2/2012

A trip

Did you polish your shoes? See, how brown is becoming to you. Did you wash your ears? You can hear much better in clean ears. Did you wash your dungarees? Calico cat slept on them. Do you have gas in your car? You don't need any. Don't travel anywhere. It's raining outside, stay rather at home. You could catch a cold. Meanwhile the road, which leads to our town, closed down. You would have to take a detour, there is no other road. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/7/2012

Cherries

Lets get cherries. Where do you have them? In the store. How much do they cost? You have to pay in dollars. How much? How much do you have? Cherries in the hands, stones on the plate. What else? You don't know anything anymore. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, ca 2010

Toilet

Our downstairs toilet can not take my s... . It sits in a band, blocks a plumbing and overflows with water every time, when somebody flushes. A plunger made my hands blister. Drano, a liquid plumber, or other liquids do not work. The toilet is useless. I'll put a flower pot with geranium on the top and run to use another toilet upstairs. When that one blocks ... May I come to your house instead? Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/15/2012

Betsie and chicken

It was the Christmas Holiday. I bought myself two CD's as a Christmas present, some dog and cat food, and balls for the animals to chase. I didn't get a Christmas tree this year. My new neighbors were eavesdropping, so I didn't like my place much. I listened to loud Spanish music on my radio. I made a potato salad and baked a chicken. I cut few slices, left the chicken on a counter, turned around to get something and heard "crunch". I turned back and the chicken wasn't on the counter anymore. The bitch pretended she doesn't know anything. About an hour later she began to have a diarrhea. It was Christmas, everything was closed and I didn't want her to dirty my carpet, so I took her outside, lengthened a chain with a rope and tied the rope high on a tree branch, so she couldn't reach the rope. Time from time I looked out of a kitchen window to see what she was doing. She had diarrhea and glared at me. I went to do something in the bedroom. I don't have to tell anybody I went to take a nap. When I woke up I went to look out of the window and there, on the grass, was only a chain and a rope left! The rope was untied. So I called, whistled, walked thorough a neighborhood but my messed up bitch was nowhere to be seen. I made a phone call to the animal shelter. No one picked the phone. Of course, it was Holiday. I knew somebody has to be there to clean and feed the animals. So I left my name, phone number, description of the dog and a message on the answering machine: In a case you have my dog keep an eye on her. She gobbled up whole chicken and has diarrhea. I stopped at animal shelter first thing on Monday. They had read the message. They had my dog. She had bloody diarrhea and there was nothing to push out. I paid $30.00 for dog sitting and took Betsie to a vet. They asked me, if they can provide x-ray. "Of course." They kept her for three days. After three days she was all right and didn't talk to me. When I went to pick her up, she pretended she has never seen me before. It was she who gobbled up whole chicken, not I. I paid $300.00 bill and took the dog home. For $300.00 I could buy one hundred chickens and do not leave a single one on the counter.
The bitch began to talk to me again like nothing happened. I was somewhat disappointed. I completely forgot about my neighbors and Christmas. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/19/2009

Depression

Lurking from TV ads, sitting in all corners of a dark, empty house. Depression is surrounding a bed. It is so hard to wake up, open eyes, and get out off the bed. On the bed stand is bottles' collection of pills: to fight depression, to cure depression ... Why did you let it go so far? Not even a best psychiatrist can not cure your depression. What happened to run, or fight to survive? What happened to will to live? What happened to healthy appetite? Eliminate a word depression and replace it with: I am not in mood, don't feel like to, and I am pissed off. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 4/21/2012

Animal Kingdom

Where is it? I may guess. Africa. Safari. Controlled water holes. Did we count them all? Yes, we shoot deer. We eat its meat. Besides, I don't want to have contact with one crossing road in the night. This is why I don't like to drive in the dark. Where is it? In the air? Flying ducks following their route. It was an airplane crossing their way. Many duck casualties and one crippled plane was the result. Where is it? Definitely in the jungle. Attacking insect and variety of hungry snakes. Where is it? In the water. We don't have much control over ocean life. We fish them, we eat them. But control them? No. Animal Kingdoms are in oceans, where they are free to hunt, to eat ... In deep ocean, I mean. Who is the King, or a Queen? The biggest? Why were they swimming to California coast to die there? Who, or what was chasing them? I do not know. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 4/21/2012

New bull 4

After forty days the thunderstorm arrived with torrents of rain. Water filled water holes, dry seasonal creek over flooded and grass turned green almost overnight. In this time the farmer took the young cattle to new pastures and bought a new Holstein bull. During the winter Stracena was very busy. She grazed and ate, ate and grazed. In the Spring time she had a calf. A little Holstein bull. Malena didn't like a bull. She liked Stracena. She turned into fine, tasty beef.
Somebody gave the farmer an ox. From the luck of better housing, the farmer kept the ox with rest of the herd. The ox was calm, quiet and preferred grazing over other activities. Then the herd began to run around, jump over the barbed wires and some of the cows got into the neighbor's rye. "It is the ox who is leading them," said the farmer's wife. "Oh no," replied the farmer. "It is the biggest cow." The beef from the big cow lasted for two months. It fed whole family.
Stracena's little bull was frolicking, kicking his hooves in the air. He was very happy little bull. "It is shame, such a pretty bull has to go to the butcher," said a farmer's daughter with a pity. "It is a happy bull. He will give a good beef. It will not taste like the old neurotic hen we had for dinner last Sunday. Our cattle are happy, and this is why we sell such good beef everybody like to buy from us." The farmer walked outside to lit his pipe and on his way pushed away another hysterical chicken. He liked cattle. The chickens belonged to his wife.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Written in Czech, Summer 2011
Translated 4/9/2012,
with English corrections
by Henry Dallimore,
Pottsville

New bull 3

Drought came. The ground was dry and cracking up. The cows were licking dew from grass in the morning and at nine o'clock crowded around and in water hole to cool off at least a little bit their legs. The water in the hole was low, changed into the mud and then even the mud dried out. Grass turned yellow end emitted crackling sound. There were days, when a hot wind was blowing, throwing hot sand and dust into the eyes. The cows laid down tiredly in the shadow of the trees. They couldn't breath well and began to loose weight.
The farmer liked his herd. It was nice herd. He already counted how much he will get for young bulls and was dreaming about purchasing the neighboring pastures.
The desperate farmer was leaving in the middle of the night with a trailer to buy hay. He drove as far as Nebraska. He brought hay once, twice - then the slaughtering started. He had to slaughter about a half of his herd. First the young bulls and then the old pieces. The heifers and their mothers survived. The heifers were not thinking about stupidities anymore. They laid under the tries, or were trying to eat dry, yellow grass, which was hurting their mouths. The drought lasted for forty days.

To be continued

New bull 2

"I can not wait, when they will join a new herd with a new bull. They are only trouble." "Did they get him?" "A farmer left this morning for an auction. He wants a Holstein bull. It looks like he is bringing one." "Stracena would like to have a black and white calf." "Nonsense. She will accept what is available and she will be happy with it."
Night dew and coyotes cries woke up both heifers. "I have a headache." "I am thirsty." All herd sleeps when they walk to the water hole. They take a long drink. Malena throws up. "I feel sick." "Lie down." "I am sick even when I lie down. We shouldn't eat it." "I have had beautiful dreams after eating that grass." "What kind dreams?" "I was singing in opera. You didn't have any?" "I did. I had a calf. It was black and white, and it was a little bull. I have showed him the grass we ate and told him he can not touch it. He listened. He was the good, little bull." And after a while: "Do you feel better?" "A little bit. Lets sleep."
All the herd sleeps. The coyotes cry not far away and a cowboy on a horse is circling the herd. Both heifers are dreaming about a new bull.
Those were the last carefree days of Malena and Stracena for long time. The farmer didn't bring a new bull from the auction.

To be continued.

New bull

Two heifers are holding a conversation at a pasture. "It's boring here today." "Did you go to look and count the cars?" "Yes, I did. I stood by barbed wire for at least one hour and in that time there was only one old coughing clunker passing by. What are we going to do?" "I have an idea. Watch out! Graze! Your mother is looking our way." "Do you want to talk about bulls?" "Phleese! Here is only one and he is our father." "Lets go and irritate him." The heifers walk slowly by the bull, but he doesn't pay them any attention. They give another try. This time they are passing so close by, that Stracena brushes his nose ring with her tail. The bull gives out a low bellow. In the moment one of the mothers is there and chases the heifers away. "Where did you get an idea to irritate the bull?" "Did you notice what he has under his tail?" Both heifers choke on the grass and immediately hear loud warning from both mothers cows. "Mother, are we getting a new bull? This one is our father and besides he also looks old." "I heard you will be going to new herd with a younger bull." "What color he will be?" "Oh, I would like to have a black and white calf." "Heifers, do not talk nonsense and graze." "Hey you, Malena!" "What?" "Did you ever go to those little bushes on the far end of the pasture?" "Nope. Why?" "An aromatic grass grows there. You get dizzy, when you swallow it."
The heifers move slowly toward the bushes, so they will not alert mothers. They graze the aromatic grass. After a while they begin to jump up and down and dance in the circle. They try to jump over the bushes. "What are they having there?" "I hope they didn't catch a bot fly?" Both mothers quickly run to heifers and chase them away from the bushes. Both heifers stagger, with hanging heads and protruding tongues, and legs giving way. Finally they fall and sleep. The mothers sigh deeply and let them sleep.

To be continued.

Us

Learning to say us, instead of I. Learning to share. To come to the house, where somebody is waiting. Talking, talking, not listening. Learning to listen. Enjoying gentle touches. Learning to give and also to take. Do not stop to listen. It is us, not I. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, January, 2012

Fear 2

Oh my dear, oh my dear, tell me a taste of fear. Oh my dear, oh my dear, draw me a picture of fear. Oh my dear, oh my dear, show me fear. Is a dentist going to pull your tooth out? Oh dear, oh dear, there is nothing to fear. Did a dog brought home fleas? Oh my dear, oh my dear, kill them, spray them, douse them in powder, murder them, but spare the dog. You will kill the dog, I fear. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 3/10/2010

Silent household

Don't meow, a cat, we are having a silent household. HOW? Radio is playing, a range is sizzling, a chair is scraping linoleum, birds outside are singing. Only television is off. Don't meow, our cat, we have to be quiet now. For how long? I don't know. Until somebody will begin to smile and say: This is one silly game. Lets talk and have a good laugh, or pots and pans will begin to fly. I didn't mean to hurt you. You did. When and where? I don't remember. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 3/18/2012

Friendship 2

I am bringing my friendship in a cup made of my palms. I see you carrying yours as well, walking slowly, afraid to trip over, or spill a single drop. We meet halfway. What a wonderful mix! Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, January 2012

North and South

Big trucks are driving South by day and night with the signs Wal*Mart and Family Dollar on both sides. Among them United Postal Service and UPS are weaving their way on the highway 81 down, down South. Send my greetings to blooming bluebonnets and Hi to V shapes geese laboring their way to the grounds, where they will bring up their families, so their eggs, goslings, future geese will always find their way back North to fly. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 3/13/2012

House for sale

It is a big job to empty a house, where somebody lived so long. To go to the basement, to empty the attic, all closets and cupboards. The best is to bring a container and throw in everything mercilessly Years and memories, old furniture, dentures and a walking stick, papers and old letters, paid and unpaid bills. They are not suddenly important. Little memories, small rock from the shore, or a river bank. For clothes they called Salvation Army. Somebody still can wear man's clothes. Old scratched and burned pens and pots are thrown out of the windows to the container. The person expired. The house is FOR SALE. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2011

Bragging

I am sure she can have two, three, or four. You can jump her hump, but I can't listen to her bragging. My head is still spinning around and it is second day. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2011

Taiga

Taiga is frozen, covered in snow and ice. Does it get Summer in June, July, August and September the same like Alaska? I don't know. Four months to cover Spring, Summer and Fall. Then comes again snow and ice, howling winds and only nights. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, Winter 2012

Explorer

Since I always have a Ford, it is easy to write. The first was Pony, so I rode a pony. Second and third were Explorers. What do they explore? I don't know. Maybe gas mileage, which is still to high. New store, when all of them are alike? New road? Maybe freshly paved ... New landscape? or fallen bridge? I don't know. I only know the word explore rhymes with North and South Pole. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 3/10/2012 POW! assignment

Fear

Fear? is something I am not curious about. I hope I'll live the rest of my life without fear. To describe fear as a personal experience? or to describe somebody's else fear? Is it still fear I can look in movies? I feel sorry for victims and despise villains. You want me to be honest? Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 3/9/2012

Apple

Procession of working class is lining by a ladder. Those in front are climbing. Where? On the top is a magic apple, they say, which brings to a winner everything, what he is wishing for. What do they wish for? Health who lack it. Older wish to get their youth back, especially good teeth. Most of them wish for better salary. Money help to fulfill wishes. "The apple brings power," everybody whispers. Those on the top are stepping on the hands those bellow them. "When you are climbing to the top be careful to step on the hands under you, because you will be meeting them, when you will be stepping down," I was told by one wise man. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 3/2012

Meena

Meena sits by a chimney and looks down from the roof. Meena sticks out her tongue. The roof yawns. Roof, move a little bit, roll me down, like an apple from the tree. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2011

E-books

You can not read them, when low on batteries. You can not read them without computer and Internet connection. You can not read them in the bathtub full of suds. You can not read them on the sandy beach. You can not listen to them, when driving a car. You can not buy them at books sale for a dime and take them back, when finished. You can not, as Dr. Seuss says: Read them here and there. You can not read them everywhere. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/20/2012

Poetry

Go on, publish your high brow poems nobody will read, but another high brow readers. Circulation is 2,000 copies. Nobody reads poetry anymore. People rather listen to the songs. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/27/2012

My ego

My ego is a size of a mole, and like the mole I wish to crawl into a deep, dark hole. I am brazen enough to write in language I didn't master. I still want to write and live happily after. I thought I have something to say, I might bring something new, to ad my two cents to this overflowing culture. My deflated ego says: shut up, your stories are lame. You are to late, everything was already written. You can not bring and say anything new. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/21/2012

Second chances

A man, or a woman divorces, remarries, or stays single. Chances depend on choices. Have a second helping of that wonderful meringue pie, then and now? To risk to gain more pounds? Blew up first chance, and ruin second chance, he goes for the third one. "Give me another chance." Chances depend on choices and bad habits. Something has to change inside. In that case the second chance might work. Otherwise, it is a waste of effort and time. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/12/2012 POW! assignment

Search

"Did you find, what you were looking for?" Years of searching, years in the dark, years of growing up stretched out ... The books, which I borrowed from your library ... In that time it never occurred to me one day I will be passing on my way to the work the house where John O'Hara lived and wrote. "Did you find, what you were looking for?" What are we searching in our teenage years? On the streets of the City of Pottsville I found myself. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/21/2012

Little boxes

Little boxes were hopping steps down. They were just empty cardboard boxes bouncing in Stribro down stairs and out from the town hall. You whistled a song: "Little boxes" and the song enchanted me. The boxes were dancing in the middle of the town square around the water fountain. The wind whistled "Little boxes ..." Next morning a garbage truck picked up sleepy cardboard boxes and took them to the city dump. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/20/2012 Translation from Czech

Marie

Some call me Maria.
Don't call me Maria.
I am Mary.
Don't call me Mary,
call me Marie.
It is the same name
like Marietta, or Miriam.
Somebody wrote a book:
"Marietta in the night"
I remember a title,
but forgot,
what it was about.
They called me Marushka,
when I was young.
When I grew up
I became Marush.
For my Slovak pen pal
I was Marienka.
In German I am Mariechen.
In Russia Marusia,
or Masha for short.
In South Bohemia
I was called Maika,
the same like one bug,
I know how it looks like.
My fifth grade teacher
liked to call me Maruna.
For my seventh grade teacher
I was Mara.
I became Marianka in Prag.
My boss called me Marzenka,
when he brough homemade
venison goulash.
My hungarian friend
is Marika
and we write
our name the same.
I became Marzena,
when I wasn't nice.
I went by many names
and turn my head
to all of them.
Just don't call me Marzena.
Marzena is bad news,
when she comes home drunk.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, June 2010

How I met my first Englishman with whom had a longer conversation

It was late Spring. We were picking ripe strawberries in the fields near Norwich in England. I decided I need a decent swim suit for my work and walked on the road to hitchhike to the nearest town, with a pocket Czech English dictionary in my hand.
Earlier in the year I was exposed to first sixteen English lessons. I have to admit I didn't absorb even those lessons well.
I walked on the road. I didn't know how far is the nearest town and what is its name. I was walking and an Englishman stopped in his lorry. Somehow I was able to explain I need to go to the store. He asked me what I need to buy. With the help of the dictionary I was able to answer a question. He stopped in the front of Woolworth. I said "Thank you" and "Good bye". I purchased one piece, green swim suit. Somehow I remembered the road we came to the town, and was ready to hitchhike back. I met the same Englishman again. He tried a conversation, but, for my limited vocabulary, his attempt failed. He had a pig farm, because he oinked a lot. Except Czech pigs go chro, chro and not oink, oink. He dropped me back at the farm, where I lived and worked.
He showed up again at Saturday dance. We were officially introduced by one young man from Yugoslavia I took English classes with. We danced. The conversation in English language didn't develop and I was a such piece of wood it didn't occur to me we could flirt. I left the dance, met outside Janusz, who just purchase a new, powerful flashlight. For a while we were gazing at the stars and then I went to the bed. So I didn't befriended the Englishman and went back to my mama.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, January 2011

If I were Cupid

If I were Cupid I would work in the bakery. Working in the night and going to bed early in the morning. That night I must make at least hundred hearts. Which one to whom, lets people sort it out. If I were Cupid I would work in the green house growing velvet roses all of them in red color. I would be out of business, because all flowers are shipped from far South. If I were Cupid I would move to South, dance flamingo and sing all year around. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/11/2012

Ethics

Who is a winner? Who breaks ethics, of course. She doesn't follow the rules. Here, grab it, take it, it is yours for taking. Victims taken by surprise quietly complain: It is not fair. How far you can hear their voices? Meek, quiet, silent voices? Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 12/10/2011

Fulfilled dreams

I told you all of my stories and nothing is left. To leave? There is nowhere to go. It is quiet. The dreams are fulfilled. There are no wishes left. It is time to live and to be happy. How? Without dreams?! Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/27/2012

Babes

Babes on caraway seed, and I am innocent. Babes for lunch, babes are tempting little rascal. Babe on the lap, babe for a dinner. Babe is trying her little claws. Babe sinks her claws and I am one with no experience. Babe isn't looking for an infidelity. Babe is preparing her nest. Catching on fire like a bale of straw, you may have them all. Don't worry, you shall go with the babe, too. The babe defends herself: All men are free for taking. Copyright (c)Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2011.

What are you going to do?

What are you going to do? Sell the stars by bushels? Sell the river to the fish? What are going to do? Sell the monkeys to the zoo? Make the World to be a better place? Better for whom? To ease a pain? This is what you can not do. To make money, because money talk? To leave everything as is, because the things usually work out themselves? Somehow. What are you going to do? Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, Summer 2011

Venison

"Hunters sharing the harvest" is written on deep frozen, ground deer meat. Thank you for sharing. I wouldn't be able to hunt down and shoot a deer. It is more like the deer would hunt me. I was defrosting venison in microwave gyro style. To shave the defrosted part and continue in the deep defrosting. Meatloaf was good. I liked it. I appreciated it. Last time we have had venison was about twenty years ago.
It was nice cool fall day and we went for a walk from Frackville to Shenandoah in Pennsylvania. Shenandoah in that time had a doughnut shop, two furniture stores, a bakery, and more attractions. On the way there a gentleman in the car stopped and gave us a ride to Shenandoah. We looked in the furniture store, had a doughnut in the doughnut shop and walked back. We met the same gentleman and he gave us the ride to Frackville again. He was on the way from his family which supplied him with venison. He didn't like the deer meet and we gladly took all packages he gave to us. Deer meet was considered a rare delicacy in our family.
We have had deer steak, sausages, hamburger meat. I even cooked a venison goulash and roasted sirloin. We feasted on the deer meat for about two weeks.
Today I finished the meatloaf. The deer meat was appreciated.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, September 2011

Imaginary cat

At your old age you will acquire a cat, so somebody will be waiting for you after you will return back home from work. You will feed the cat, change her litter box, brush the cat's fur and scratch her behind her ears. And it is not all about your cat. One night she will deliver her kittens at your feet in your bed and you will have to clean up after her. You'll find out a father of her three kittens is mangy, tiny and bowlegged cat across the street. The forth kitten she acquired only your cat knows where, that promiscuous animal. For next six weeks you and she will devote your time to care for the kittens. You'll find out pleading that she rather should watch Super Bowl with you is useless. Half grown kittens you will force as presents to your friends - and situation will repeat, because the kitty is sitting by the door - she wants to go out again. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Stephenville, 3/7/2005

Colors of loves

Loves come in different colors. Yellow for John. He was good looking man, always surrounded by flocks of young girls - - yellow for jealousy. Pale blue for Peter who liked to travel and was never home. Blue for arriving postcards with the pictures of blue seas. Blue for hope, blue was good for dreams. Love for Danny began like little, pink, yellow and blue flames over the building fire. The fire was growing bigger and bigger, turned red - - and then there was nothing left to feed the fire into. The furniture, the house, the trees, everything was gone. I found a jewelry box in the hot ashes and walked away with a child's hand in my hand. There is no one love for people who make many mistakes. They are more, until they learn the hard way. There is an only one love and only one man. Love - one hundred dollar bill exchanged for change falling out of the pockets, loose change in the corners of my purse, some in the valet. This is why I pick cents on the sidewalk - - it's a good exercise - and, maybe, among them will be one lucky one - - for love, luscious green, fulfilling, nourishing ... don't be a cow ... Didn't you already have enough? ... chewing Spring grass on the green pasture, filling, dreaming, eating, swallowing, regurgitating, chewing on memories ... Don't be such a cow ... Come back ... Self consuming flame of love. I am back on the pasture, eating green grass, looking with big blue eyes, thickly covered with eyelashes into high blue skies. Flick with my tail to the side of my body - - that was one busybody. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2011 Pottsville, 1/10/2012

Grey

Grey houses, grey streets, grey towns. Black asphalt, road snakes toward grey highway, touching grey sky in horizon. Grey sparrows sit on the bush, yellow sprigs are full of sap. Everything is waiting for Spring to come. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/24/2008

A dream 1

Tell me what are you dreaming about, when you sleep? Your eyelids and a tail are twitching, clenching your paws, stretching your claws, moving whiskers. Tell me, what are you dreaming about? You don't see and you don't hear. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 1/23/2012w

The house

Do not invite anybody home. A house is falling into the pieces. The roof is leaking and a mold ate the kitchen floor. Do not invite anybody to your house. It is a ruin now. I came to see her in the hospital, after she took to many pills. She was holding given tapestry on her knees: "... and I thought he doesn't love me..." She wanted to come back. Whatever he took, I even do not remember his name, he didn't want to come back. It was final. I know I owe her words of sympathy, but I can't overcome a barrier I built by myself inside of me. Our past keeps hunting us in our future. There is no escape. Yes, I am sorry it happened to her and more I am sorry for one thrown away young life. I guess, it is all mothers nightmare and for her it came thorough. We moved from the house into an apartment. The house was torn down. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2011 Pottsville, 1/15/2012

Last twenty dollars

How am I going to spend last $20.00? A question is last twenty dollars until when? Today is Monday ... Do they have to last until tonight, or until Friday, when next paycheck is arriving?
What I can think about first is my stomach of course. It always comes first. How boring. Do I have to make rather short grocery list? Lets pretend a refrigerator is full of groceries, fruit and vegetables to last until Friday. Pantry is overflowing with edible goods. Don't laugh. Some people take pantry as an extra storage place and they store tools, electrical bulbs, even nails there. Yes, the nails are a good source of iron, but how to retrieve it? In the corner sits a mouse trap still with rather disgusting looking piece of an old cheese. The mouse will be not coming here anyway since the cat is regularly patrolling his territory.
I still have $20.00 to spend. Since we do not have any bookstore in our area I can not go there ...
Here goes one dollar for charities, another for overdue dues and for $18.00 lets buy gas. Now I am completely broke, so lets wait for social security check to arrive.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 1/14/2012
POW! assignment

Forgetfulness

What it is not in the head has to be in the legs; when I am running fifth time the steps, up to comb my hair, down on the way out, coming back, because I forget to take driving glasses, wearing reading glasses instead. Ringing the bell, please, let me in, my key is still lying on the window sill. I can not drive a car without one, can I? How will I get in when you will be not at home? I love my adult age. I am full of surprises, what I shall forget to take with me next time. Well, I was never well organized. Yes, I am leaving for town, now. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/10/2012

Changes

according an embryo pickled in spirits in the school cabinet I am in vertical position, I do not think, I do not see, because my eyes didn't develop yet. My heart is pickled, so I do not feel. I swim in some liquid. My underdeveloped brain is permanently pickled in the spirits, so I am brain damaged. I look like E.T., they say, when they are passing into their biology class, notebooks in their hands and pleated skirts create a little breeze in always stuffed hallway. The boys are following discussing the last football game. One of them pointed at me: "This embryo was here, when my father attended this school thirty years ago". So nothing changes, only pupils do. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/3/2012

Little girl

A house full of hatred, my sweet girl, why are you so upset? We are not going to meet anymore. What is going on in your head? I miss you, my little girl, make it up a little bit. Come and meet me a halfway. We shall meet at a crossroad. I'll ring a bell at your door, little girl, come and open the door for me. Don't ring the bell, do not call me, do not write me letters. You shut the door, slammed the gate shut. I do not open, you will not hear from me. You lay down in the bed you made up for yourself. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/2/2012