Fragments & Reflections

I know it’s the pastime of our lives and how we wish to hear them. There are many places where we gathered and I remember them well.

I didn’t know…

It’s supposed to fling your bell sometimes, meeting in a forest setting. Often, I’m in the Mediterranean. I’m far away from my home and my country.

To be sure..

There have been occasions where I have incidentally ran into a friend, someone to talk to, places where we took walks together, I remember this too well.

But whose pictures are those…

I would like to know. I would like to have caffè or something, a beer. I’m thinking before I go, I should ask you, “Hey, are you up for something? Yes, we’ll find a place in town and we’ll talk!”

I’ll call you, but I’m not sure how to ask you though, you’re probably not sure either. Why don’t we just come out with it. I see that we’re struggling here.

And to find someone…

Someone has picked a water lily. They’re beautiful up close and have a pleasant odor. What a surprise for her. He gave this flower to his mother. He had heart, how wonderful.

What they’re called…

Nymphaea -Water Lily, a hardy and tender aquatic plant in the Nymphaeaceae water plant family. These alluring thoughts were inspired by the Greeks and Latin mythology. They’re depicted as women but you wouldn’t know that, most wouldn’t know a nymph as a water lily.

How lovely…

Is the imagination, is the diversity of the mind (perhaps it’s dirty). This is encouraged by what you see and to let you know, what you may consider as making yourself vulnerable. Perhaps it’s their otherwise desire and you’re being seduced, which to them means their vanity, they won’t admit it. It’s astonishing really, to witness them up close, seeing this. Who would have thought, everybody’s doing it. I like that, I mean having them around, they’re flirting with you that’s for sure. It’s quite fun, don’t you think.

Let’s go girl, to an Island..

It’s as mysterious today as it was then. It appears lonely and often, a loneliness sets in while you are there, because places are far away, as in the continent, but still, I think it is because of the effect an Island has on you.

What a lovely remembrance…

Well, this one particular thought is riding on the culmination of thoughts, of smells, smelling all the many potluck lunches we had as kids, the ones I’ve attended to as a kid in church. I’m sure you remember them as well, somewhere, but these are the ones I remember specifically growing up.

They served us kids…

Sandwiches on white bread; tuna, peanut butter and jelly. Pimento cheese sandwiches as well, all piled up high on a big platter, chips and soda beverages. Afterwards cookies. Yummy!

And I was too young for love!

What a beautiful day..

How could I allow myself to go home and take a nap? Not today.

We’re at a friends house and we’re having ‘Cotechino’ for lunch. Yes, usually she cooks this in tepid water, adding spices of cloves, shallots and celery.

She wraps this in oven wrap paper tied at both ends. It’s when you cook this thoroughly by soaking in water, the paper will protect the ‘Cotechino’ from falling apart.

We’re also having purée of mashed potatoes, bread and red wine. My Dear, what a delicious meal we’re having.

How I wish it were November now, because then we wouldn’t want to go outside, we wouldn’t need to, it would be too cold outside.

Perhaps then I could go to sleep, after our big noon time meal. I could sleep the afternoon away, you know, doing this after I have ate too much food during my lunchtime meal.

No, it isn’t November, not yet. Right now, there’s plenty of sunshine outside and warmth still.

Let’s not rush the seasons too soon my Darling.


An Island Of Smooth Joy


This is how it gets to you, her entire fabricated existence was based on a lie, so she didn’t mind being blunt with her words, no heartfelt sorrow came from her mouth. Still, it was I who blurted off my mouth. I kept her around so to speak. She became a writing prompt.

I think she had copied and pasted, what I gathered, were words and phrases, emails she had sent me, letting me know what was up through the internet. She had used my email address to start an account on another apps, I just know that was her. Yeah, toxic!

She didn’t know words, but she knew what happened when these words were spoken or written, she had spotted them online, exactly what she was looking for..

At that time she had texted me and said, “Mmmm,” and, “Sad.”

Sad you say, also deceptive don’t you think. And I am intrigued how you call this, how it is so apparent, that it’s so deceptive apparently and appealing, you are an attraction.

You see, your hard-ass attitude, as up close as yours is with me, it’s up front, you’ve relabeled it though, being nice along the way, like skipping rocks along the river, that you thought were relevant. It was all relevant, now I’m wanting more.

Now in the darkness we cannot see, how can we? We pride ourselves yielding at nothing. It seems we’re carrying on like crazy and we do this, “To do what my Dear. Your point is Dear?”

How that forgiveness is to deliver a reward, as sandwiches are to hunger, it is a delight. A pain a hurt so bad, it does fade away until, when all will be forgotten, that is, if the party delivers on her promise, of asking forgiveness over her phone actually. She never will!

And who am I to say, saying what you are or who you are. I have no idea actually who you are.

Accordingly, I must play along with your game. The photos?

Now here’s the underlying question; Can one forgive another if they never ask for forgiveness? Maybe she forgot to ask.

“We better get going Dear!”

“Yes, let’s go!”

It’s as mysterious today as it was then, appearing lonely and often a loneliness sets in, and you were lonely, because places were far away as in ‘the continent’. It was because you were far away, but still I think it is the effect an Island has on you.

An Island Of Smooth Joy!

I didn’t care if I had been conned. I had been connected with a con artist.



She will never learn but for him, the one who cares, he makes a statement, having taken into an account of the tomorrows of which there were plenty, yet the silent ones because of a foothold of inconsistent services to another, matrimony, financial indebtedness because they’re more older and gentler enough, and as the night wears on he asks, “let me take you in,” he explains.

Because the silent ones are somewhat taken aback, by fond memories, they’re older now and who can’t go down that path twice. They cannot or will not talk, or explain willingly. Although he will!


Time Moves On

Now what he dreams about, still ever dreaming of episodes taking place, for the better or the worse, he wished they would, yet he doesn’t know of any such a course, they were all of his dreams.

He lives in a dreary place not particularly for him though, having been so sheepishly involved, hardly in it at all. Maybe whomever would bring a plate of food, whomever she was.

Although episodes such as these and the other episodes he has imagined, they were all his dreams and they weren’t likely to occur. They were just his thoughts. He had nothing but time.

He begun to worry about himself, about remaining here at this place, that clock would be running out soon, so to speak, about his activities, the things he loves to do, he stopped partaking in those activities, the ones he once held dear.

He has begun to worry about his family, but they weren’t around, not so much anymore, so he would wander around the little town, the places where he once lived and played. He was constantly walking around throughout the town, sometimes riding his bicycle, trying to get a grip, to get exercise, to get closure. He sits on his lawn chair he bring along or anything, to be in the public gathering areas, the parks, trying to be available to talk and have conversation. He watches other people, their activities, of their youthfulness. His spirits are high, yet he is confused, he had no life, no one.

Of all the old things around his place, the unkempt, the disarray left as it were. He sees where the landscape and the mechanical aspects if it all have been forgotten.

Once drinking beer because beer tasted good, of a once stable life, an occupation, but there’s no longer an occupation or circulatory motion, there hasn’t been for a while.

“It’s as if I’ve silenced her, by my own insincere pettiness, by my jealousy, because at the time she stood out as a very young and pretty woman.”

She eventually became his wife. This was a rather special, delightful and warm feeling. Although now he has no one. She has since gone on. He needs to move on.

He Truly Loved Her Yet There He Sat. His story:

So I truly believe, now since I have the time to take a certain path, plus I have a home and a place to fall back to, returning to my home whenever I want. I may move onward and go places, traveling, moving from place to place. In the beginning, as you know this will be uncertain, although it looks most appealing. Here, I will not say goodbye, not so much, because without a doubt I will return and be back soon, once again resuming my path, because I have nothing but time, so I shall be starting again at my original starting place. Although it is here that I wish to leave, wanting to get away from here rather badly.

What a nice day for challenging ourself ‘Myself’ to take a look around me.

…The landscape and the mechanical aspects of it all have been forgotten. Flowers fade as do dreams then one season the flowers, they suddenly reappear, yet he is ruined. The flowers are as beautiful as before, yet nothing awaits him because of a stillness…

…They were afraid yet they had alternatives plans throughout this whole ordeal, of her illness and this is how they felt about their impact on togetherness, their life together for many years…

“I had a dream come to me today and I wasn’t sleeping. I remembered where we were and what we did, we had a good talk, we always had good talks. What a way to start the day!”

“What I gave to you my dear can hardly be noticed now. What I did give to you, if anything, hopefully this gets noticed, if not technically because I was kind to you and also very generous.”

Yes, he hoped so. They lived their life that way, she however has gone on.


Morning Coffee



I’m going next door to borrow some coffee grounds from a real nice lady. This is what I told my real nice friendly lady neighbor. I ask her and she said this would be okay and then when I saw her, I told her that I’ll be coming around early for morning coffee sometime. She said that was okay. Yes, we’ll be having morning coffee together before daylight. I don’t see anything wrong or disgusting about this. I think this will be alright.

Yeah, and she’s not the typical adult person that’s for sure. She’s a classical romantic. It’s surprising and shocking really to see the many fine, abstract and erotic art paintings and pictures hanging on the walls around her home.
We’ll just be having morning coffee together, before daylight and that’s it! I didn’t tell her because I would love to and with her, this gives me the greatest joy. It’s a stretch, I know but that’s it. It’s only her company I seek.

These are just silly nuances, varying widely, depending on how discreet one is, also depending on one’s imagination-to do something else, to get something going but really, we’re just companions and I really enjoy her conversations and company.

Okay well, with her it’s both love and lust. Hell, I know sometimes we can’t even remember what we had for supper last night. I’m thinking we need to be reminded, thus the erotic artwork display around her home. Yes, she’s the eccentric type. I like that, she’s something else.


She Makes a Fuss About Her Muffins



She makes a fuss about her muffins. She’s makes it known how bad she likes them, as bad as she likes them eaten, for that special someone to have a mouthful of her stuff. No, it’s not none of that. It’s what she’s saying while preparing for these muffins to be cooked, mixing up the ingredients and all the preparations, part with love but mainly with the attention afforded to, ‘That Special Stuff’.

“OK-A-A-A-Y, Enough Talking And Preparing Honey you get right down on it, get right down on that.”


“Oh You There Sweetie, you know you ain’t worth a crap, I’m going to replace you for another one better, your big brother.”


She rubs and twitches and gestures with her hands all the while yelping and hollering. “Whoa Baby Now That’d Be It. Do Your Thing.”

She watches and waits and now she waits to cook ’em, cook ’em good. She’s now ready to stick this concoction in there to be baked. She wants for it to be pack it in there so badly, to do it ‘Up’ right and do it well. She knows her oven will be warm enough. It was pre-set because she had this in her mind way back earlier in the day.



“I will be so ecstatic when we pull them out, oops, NO, I want ’em to go deeper in this oven. I want it to be baked well and done up right. I know it’s not done enough. Ooh baby, I want this. Do it right now and when you’re ready to be pulled out, I want to taste you, your freshness, your baked little sweet creaminess, do you hear me?”

Her muffins go quite well with coffee or tea!

Once inside her oven she makes a mess with her muffins.



At Night with Flood Lights Cascading Upon Its Façade

She comes home and comes inside where she finds me, her Dad, just sitting there getting ready for bed.

“He’s not listening perhaps.”

“Now, Please gimme a cigarette And Get Me A Light Hurry Please!”

“I don’t want to, but it’s likely over run by your own doings, something, whatever’s causing it. But you’re a big girl now and you’re just talking with me you’re laughing with me you’re crying with me and you’re doing what you wish and yes, you’re pretty and you’re disheveled.”

These are the youngest, young lives ever and they’re trying to catch someone, on to the other, younger people perhaps, obviously this fires up her endorphins. That’s a good story I think, a good thing. Now me, I’m just sitting here drinking my coffee, remembering.