I looked, but found something better

images-2

 

I found a treasure instead. My piano, “Three-Legged Dog”, a 1917 parlor-grand Steinway piano, helped me write this poem for her coming-out, coming home party in 2000.

We celebrated her arrival in 1920’s costume and music.

She was born in Chicago in 1917, went to New York, was renovated, and settled in my living room many decades later.

So, here she is, my Three-Legged Dog, sharing her poem.

(I would scan the original  poem but, I’m happy to say, red wine stains cover some of the words. So I’ve retyped.)

images-3

Well, I’ve seen a lot of changes 

many looks on many faces

But I’m wondering what you think of me tonight.

So I stand here in my glory

many years and many stories

And I hope to shed for you a little light.

So looking back, we’re sorting

we begin the process courting

of a kinship to discover varied pasts

And I hope that you will find me

just a little more enlightening

than the accumulation of years gone by too fast.

My insides renovated

many hands participated

in the making of this body – Parlor Grand

I’ve been sheltered, I’ve been trampled

left behind and gently sampled

But I’m balanced on these three legs where I stand.

Have you seen me at my low times

or my even just-for-show times?

Can you tell when I need company by sight?

Let me do some rearranging 

’cause the times, they keep on changing

So I’m wondering what you think of me tonight.

In front of you I’m standing

so proud of parlor granding

and though it seems you haven’t known me very long

I’ll keep us entertaining 

for the years that are remaining

’cause the bond I have with you is very strong.

So, I’ll be here ready for you

and I’ll try hard not to bore you

I’m  lucky and I thank the stars above

And I’ll be open, you will hear me

it’s my fortune if you’re near me —

CD-W, 10-24-2000

(or is this me I’m really speaking of?)

images-4

 

 

 

 

 

 

Are you complete?

We are all made up of jigsaw pieces – varied shapes of experiences that combine to make us a complete puzzle.

You don’t think you are complete? You think you are missing pieces?

 

puzzle-person

Do you toss a few of your least wonky samples on the viewing table, the ones you’ve buffed and coated in high gloss? The pieces you think are less vulnerable to share?

Perhaps today you are a one-hundred piece puzzle. Or a five-hundred. With additional experiences comes greater awareness. Tomorrow, you might be made of a thousand pieces that all interlock perfectly. Tomorrow, maybe ten-thousand.

At this very second, this moment in time, you are perfect.

unknown

Celebrate who you are.

 

 

 

 

Raw Journal Kernels – 6

Random journal entry? Yes, except for the top right corner that came from a dream. I was about to step into the water of the  National Mall in D.C. to follow others.

images-21

I looked down at the water contemplating stepping in, when two Marines, one on each side, escorted me through the water. As I got to the “end,” I realized who was at the front, the person I had been following. Rosa parks turned to us, threw her arms up and said, “Point your breasts up to the heavens and dance!”

scan-23-1

Loved this dream!

Raw Journal Kernels – 5

Ooh! This was a special find! (See other Journal Kernels here) This was a dream that inspired The Last Bordello. See the short excerpt below.

scan-31

Most nights, I see Papa in my dreams. In a slower-than-life pulse, in a not-so-common four-count measure, he smiles as he grabs the knob of our screen door and opens it to enter. His movement repeats. He smiles and opens the door. Smiles and opens the door. Each time, he never enters. He never falls.

But Papa did fall; collapsed before crossing our threshold into the house his neighbors helped him to build. Four years ago now, all of the notes of Papa’s life faded away with his last breath. A stillness so loud that my ears still burned.

If only Papa hadn’t died.