Flying

You want me to fly. I am already flying. Upside down, sideways and loosing myself in the deep of the sky. So dizzy I do not recognize, where is the ground. I am flying, flying farther from reality, crashing to the ground with all bones unbroken. It was only my mind swollen like big balloon landing in the parking lot and bouncing on the sidewalk. A tune about loneliness, about solitude, about unwritten song, about flying, is ringing in my ears without words. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/22/2010

Skeleton in the closet

A skeleton sits in the closet. It sits quietly, doesn't mean to move. Don't wake him up. He sits still, he doesn't breath anyway. Just be sure to leave the closet closed. A drunken Marzena could tumble out. The skeleton is blabbing something incoherently. Let him be! It is not nice, what he says. Skeleton rattles his bones. Shut the door, lock it! It's not nice, what he says. Bury him, cremate him! Call him echo! The skeleton found his soul. He looks at it amazed, strokes it with one finger lovingly, and then, rattling his bones, leaves the closet. Marzena is holding scales in her hands. The skeleton handles her little pebbles. Two precious stones, little pile of shimmering pebbles. What's left is cinder. Marzena, it's not up to you to judge. Marzena looks quietly. She smiles silent smile. You know, I am yours. Pebbles are glittering. What about cinder, the crowd is hissing. Everyone has some. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, December 2010

My darling

My darling, do not call. My phone is to radio station connected. My darling, do not send me your e-mail. E-mail has barriers - it will not deliver. My darling, do not sigh, rather send me music on CD, music you like. My darling, write a letter and I shall send you last year rose petals wrapped in pink tissue paper. My darling, they guard my each step and follow me everywhere. It's hard to believe, in my age to have such protective parents. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 5/1/2010

February, 29

Freezing rain rustles in the trees. Snow plow does it's solitary job in the dark streets so people could drive to the work in the morning and yellow buses take children to the school. Even evil minds sleep and rest from plotting, shocking, disturbing schemes. Snow plow is working and few cars are already gliding to the work in the freezing rain. There are more cars now on the road slowly crawling to their destination - work. It's February, 29, early in the morning. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/18/2010

Trip to London

I am going to London. What shall I need?:
a valid passport.
What shall I see?:
a British airplane.
I am going to London. What shall I need?:
a valid passport, round trip ticket from New York to London and hotel reservation.
I am going to London. What shall I see?:
British airplane, airport in London.
I am going to London. What shall I need?
a valid passport, round trip ticket from New York to London and hotel reservation, British money.
I am going to London. What shall I see?:
British airplane, airport in London, underground.
I am going to London. What shall I need?:
a valid passport, round trip ticket from New York to London and hotel reservation, British money, a good guide and a map of London and underground.
I am going to London. What shall I see?:
British airplane, airport in London, underground, Trafalgar Square.
I am going to London. What shall I need?:
a valid passport, round trip ticket from New York to London and hotel reservation, British money, a good guide and a map of London and underground, a powder blue suitcase. Et cetera, et cetera.
Ad infinitum
Ad absurdum
Ad nauseam.
Are we there yet?

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
1/10/2011
GROW assignment

Kitty

To Michelle When I am going to the fridge, here comes the cat walking to his dish. Then he curls on my plate. Thank you, kitty, I already ate. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, November 2010 POW! GROW

The beans

Oh, my gosh, I spilled the beans. What is going happen to me? I spilled the great Northern beans in the red sauce. I spilled them on the floor, on the carpet, over my slippers, on the table and my robe. Some stained my pajamas, some are on the counter. end sauce is dripping down the fridge and the kitchen cabinets. I cleaned it all. Still, I spilled the beans, what shall happen to me? What am I going to eat? I am going to have oatmeal for breakfast. It sounds better than beans. I spilled the beans, oh my, what shall happen to me? Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/8/2011