betabitches

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

2012-02-11T12:22:00.000-08:00

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 lori. 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

2012-02-11T12:14:00.000-08:00

If I were Cupid
I would work
in the bakery.
Working in the night
and going to the 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

2012-02-11T12:09:00.000-08:00

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?
Meak, quiet,
silent voices?

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 12/10/2011

Fulfilled dreams

2012-02-02T18:35:00.000-08:00

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

2012-02-02T09:38:00.000-08:00

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.
Rather bad translation from Czech

What are you going to do?

2012-02-02T09:22:00.000-08:00

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

2012-01-31T13:14:00.000-08:00

"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 meetloaf. The deer meat was appreciated.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, September 2011

Imaginary cat

2012-01-30T16:40:00.000-08:00

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

2012-01-24T17:46:00.000-08:00

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, 1/10/2012

Grey

2012-01-24T12:44:00.000-08:00

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
full of sap.
Everything
is waiting
for Spring
to come.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 1/24/2012

A dream

2012-01-23T19:43:00.000-08:00

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
Translated from Czech
1/23/2012

Twilight zone

2012-01-21T17:01:00.000-08:00

Shattered dreams,
or no dreams.
Shattered lives.
Dysfunctional families.
I can if you can,
playing dare,
crying games,
what I got
myself into?
People looking
for themselves,
because they do not know
who they are
and sometimes afraid
to look into
dark shadows
of their memories.
Looking for connections,
listening, discovering,
picking, divorcing,
marrying, dying.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 12/5/2011

The house

2012-01-21T16:55:00.000-08:00

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, 1/15/2012

Second day after president Lincoln Birthday

2012-01-18T08:07:00.000-08:00

Children in the class
are exchanging the cards
full of affection.
Some get a lot
and some just
the card from their
homeroom teacher
who understands
how it feels
to not be popular.
Most favorite girl
gathers an overflowing box
and walks proudly home.
It is her day.

One winter day,
when a muscle
in the chest
supposed to beat faster,
little winged, naked brats
are sitting outside on the bush
since early morning
armored with weapons
they borrowed
from huntress Diana.
Do not feed them,
better do not go
out whole day.
They don't aim well,
last year produce seller
fell in love
on this day
with used cars dealer wife.
The dealer cut his tires
and the produce seller
threw rotten cauliflowers
all over his house and yard.
It took a while
to sort things out.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 1/18/2012
POW assignment

Last twenty dollars

2012-01-17T14:03:00.000-08:00

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

A life

2012-01-16T17:12:00.000-08:00

Hold me in your arms,
hold me tight,
because today
I am going to die.
Tonight I don't see
stars shine,
because tonight
I am going to die.

I shall wake up
tomorrow morning
to watch the Sun rise,
believing, believing
in goodness in people
and trust to no one.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 1/12/2012

Forgetfullness

2012-01-11T10:57:00.000-08:00

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 hanging
on the wall.
I can not drive a car
without one, can I?
How I will 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

2012-01-05T13:17:00.000-08:00

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".
So nothing changes,
only pupils do.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 1/3/2012

Little girl

2012-01-04T16:36:00.000-08:00

A house full of hatred,
my sweet girl,
why are you 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.
I shall meet you 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 yourself.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Not the best translation from Czech
Pottsville, 1/2/2012

Short lived loves

2011-12-31T09:27:00.000-08:00

Who is going
to bless
short lived loves?
I want,
I want,
I want.
She has better
piece of a pie.
He slept with
your wife.
He is what I want.
Dogs are enjoying
themselves
without love.
Listening
to our urges,
to our drives,
to cats instincts
to multiply.
Where is love?
What is love?
Not to one man,
or a woman ...
Illusions,
long overdue bills,
wasted tickets,
discarded
one night stands.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 12/27/2011

I've always dreamed about ...

2011-12-30T08:39:00.000-08:00

what is on the other side of the hill?
There was a valley followed by another hill,
and another and another ...
What is behind the curve of the dusty road?
Lying on my back on the green grass,
I was wandering where the birds are flying.
"Take me with you," I dreamed.
"You are to heavy, and besides,
you have no wings to fly."
When my siblings were searching for me,
blamed for my disappearances,
they threatened me with gypsies:
"One day they will steal you,
brake your arms and legs
and make you to beg for your living."
I wasn't afraid of the gypsies.
They have enough of their own children,
they do not need somebody else's.
I was wandering all day long,
but with the sunset, I wish to go home.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 12/28/2011

Ants

2011-12-11T12:38:00.000-08:00

Spaghetti tin
was full
of spaghetti
eating ants.
I threw the can
into a garbage bin.
Little black ants
do not have coats,
hats and mittens.
They will freeze
to the death
tonight,
I hope,
because I don't
want them
in the house.
It was very cold
night.
Little black ants
froze to the death.
Little shriveled
kiwi seeds
in tin can -
one hundred thousand
of them.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 12/11/2011

Water

2011-12-10T18:03:00.000-08:00

Water
bubbling
clear water
running
over the reeds
and rocks.
Little brook
hurrying
to the river.
Cold water
at the Spring
flooding
meadows
changing them
into spongy
squelchy
surface
creates a lake.
I am looking
from the forest.
I know
I can not cross
in this time
of the year.
Water owns
paths and
once dusty
roads
dominates
water
clear
powerful
water.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 12/8/2011

Baby Jesus

2011-12-06T09:05:00.000-08:00

Baby Jesus arrived
on his wings
and he said,
and he said ...
I'll give you a s...
this year.

Czech folk poem.

Translated Copyright (c) by Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 12/6/2011

New year resolutions from point of view of common Pennsylvania bear

2011-12-03T06:43:00.000-08:00

I have to eat now for two or three anyway since I was frolicking whole last summer with another bear from Hawk Mountains. Somehow he found his way to Pottsville and we had some good times together. He is on his way back to his den in Hawk Mountains. I hope he eats well, avoids hunters and survives this winter, because he is coming in the Spring time again.
My fur is already short and sleek. Mother Nature takes good care of me. Provides me with free winter and summer clothes.
So I am eating well. There are still plenty of berries in the woods, and since I am also carnivore, I do not turn down small game.
I took plenty baths last summer, but for some reason, I can not get rid of fleas. I have to swim more next year and drown them.
I have to avoid hunters at any cost. Here they are coming again and brought barking dogs with them, so I have to sit on the tree all day again, or hide in the swamp. It is hard to take care of some one's stomach, when there are madly barking beasts following my scent.
I'll be rising new cub next Spring, so there go my resolutions about the writing. I tried to write into the sand bank last Summer with my claws a poem about white clouds, rustling trees and trouts' bodies shining in the Sun, when they are swimming up stream. Then a wave came and washed out my poem and scattered letters in the wind.
The end.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 12/3/2011

The head

2011-11-30T15:21:00.000-08:00

Bring me his head,
bring it on the plate
and I shall faint.
Keep it as far
as you can
and his body will follow,
will follow,
will follow ...
... everywhere
looking for a soul
it doesn't have.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 11/30/2011

Where shall I find you?

2011-11-28T10:38:00.000-08:00

Trash can
full of cigarette butts,
where shall I find you,
my dear?
You'll find me in an attic
hanging laundry
on the clothes line.
You'll find me
in the hen house
collecting eggs.
You'll find me
in the barn
on the top,
or all way down.
You'll not find me home,
I don't like to be alone.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Translated from Czech (also copyrighted by me)
Pottsville, 11/21/2011, 11/28/2011

Reunion3

2011-11-28T09:55:00.000-08:00

She accepts and puts her snow shovel and a broom away. He offers her his arm, on their way they pass big grey mansion to the main entrance.
"What is your name?" she asks.
He answers, but she doesn't hear it and doesn't want to ask again.
"What is yours?"
"I am Margaret."
Again something stirs the old man memory.
"My wife's name was Margaret. We called her Margie."
They enter the hallway of the big house cluttered with gardening tools, pots, broken furniture, working bench, even a saw and piles of the wood.
"Nobody comes here anymore," he apologises and leads her to the kitchen. She sits at the rectangular table covered with red and white checkered plastic table cloth.
He brings two bowls of hot vegetable soup on the table. She is looking at the white bowls with a blue rim and remembers:
"We had a whole complete set of them with cups, saucers, even a turin. It was my wedding gift."
They eat quietly soup and bread. Then he brings coffee.
"Do you have a family?"
No. I don't remember."
"What about children?"
"Yes, I had three children. It was long time ago."
"I had three children!"
"Boys, girls?", she asks.
"Two boys and one girl. What about you?"
"I had the same. What are their names?"
"Danny, Scott and Angela."
"What a coincidence! My children have the same names."
He is looking at her left hand with a wedding band.
"Are you married? What is your last name?"
"My name is Donegal, Margaret Donegal."
"I am also Donegal."
A light of recognition comes into the old woman's eyes.
"Tom, is it you?"
Their hands meet on the table.
"When we got separated?" he asks.

The end.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 11/21/2011

Reunion2

2011-11-27T16:44:00.000-08:00

The woman poures steaming hot coffee into a cup and offers to the old man. Then she takes off her knitted glove from her right hand and pulls out from her coat pocket another cup and gets coffee for herself. They drink their coffee standing up with small careful sips, blowing into coffee.
The man can not help do not notice small, firm hand with liver spots, white hair sticking out of her hat and sky blue eyes.
They finish coffee, the man continues to clear the snow until the dark, then he promises to come the next day, and because the temperature is dropping, they depart.
On the way home he thinks about his new acquittance.
"My wife used to have such blue eyes. I wonder what happened to her." He doesn't remember going to her funeral.
The woman has blues eyes like summer sky and he is looking forward to the second day of snow cleaning.
The very tired woman drags her shovel behind her to the side door, opens and closes the door behind her, sits heavily on the bench and takes off her gloves and galoshes. She wears wedding band on her left hand. She places the thermos on the side, takes off her heavy coat, the hat and combs her hair. Then she walks absentmindedly to the kitchen, forgets the thermos on the bench in the hallway, remembers she hasn't eaten whole, long day, but she is to tired to make a sandwich. She lies on the sofa and immediately falls into short, interrupted sleep. She wakes up during the night, her stomach rumbles, so she makes herself a cheese sandwich, washes it down with a glass of warm milk, undresses and goes to the bed. In the morning she gets up, provides usual routine tasks, puts a bowl of milk in the kitchen for a cat she doesn't have for a long time. She remembers it's time to clean the snow again. In the hallway she notices a blue thermos, takes it to the kitchen, rinses it well and places it on the counter to dry. Suddenly she remembers something happened yesterday. She gets dressed and walks outside to continue to shovel the snow. The man from yesterday is already there with his snow blower. For a while they work quietly. He progresses rapidly, noisily, leaving large path behind him. She makes a narrow path in the snow. She can not throw the snow high. She has no strength, but she also uses a broom to dust off powdery snow. Finally they meet on the sidewalk, near to her door.
"May I invite you for a cup of coffee and a bowl of chicken noodle soup?"

To be continued

Reunion

2011-11-24T14:35:00.000-08:00

For years on my way to the work I was passing a big grey mansion with tall, spotless, sparkling clean windows and grey roof. The mansion must be built and maintained with an "old money". It means in the times, when the coal was a king in the county. The building was always quiet, I couldn't see any activities ... until one late February blizzard came, when little angels overdid it with throwing down pillows at each other, and whole county shut down and put a key from the town under the doormat. Everything was closed but pharmacy and a grocery store. The shelves usually stacked with snow shovels and salt, were bare.
In the front of the mansion on the sidewalk on the left side was an old man dressed in old home spun winter coat and the warm hat. The scarf was covering half of his face, and with the hands in gloves, was shoveling a foot deep snow.
When I was passing by I spotted a short old woman in light blue coat doing the same thing as the old man on the other end of the mansion. There were no neighbors to help them, because everybody was busy with their own abundance of snow on the sidewalks and digging the cars out.
Then the old man found in the basement an old snow blower and cleaning the snow was faster on his part of sidewalk. Late in the afternoon he noticed the old woman slow, tedious and little progress making a path in the deep snow.
"May I help you Ms.?"
"Oh certainly."
"Let me do it."
After a while watching the man and avoiding to get to close to the snow blower, she asked:
"May I bring you hot coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?"
Yes, you may."
The woman hurries with her little steps and disappears behind the house. After a short while she appears with an old dark blue thermos. The man notices the thermos.
"I remember we used to have thermos like this," he thinks.

To be continued

Requiem for John

2011-11-23T18:26:00.000-08:00

John is coming to number 506 leaning heavily on his crutches. "They called me twenty seven pills John." John is cutting down the pills, doesn't walk on crutches anymore and his talk is beginning to make sense. He always talked from his own experience, slowly, clearly, like he was talking to small children. He repeats the same simple message again and again. Someday it might sink for somebody. "If he will open his mouth again one more time, I shall leave." Of course he talks again and I never left. He didn't hurt anybody and he never offended me. He was a good man and he took me under his wing and his talks began to make a sense even to me.
When I was walking to the party with a lonely lesbian in the tow and a cake in my hand, the lesbian asked me: "Where are you going?" "To the party." "I am coming with you." "You can't." And I slam the door into her face.
We are at the party in the fourth floor apartment with the balcony. It is smoke free apartment. At one moment all of us are standing on the balcony, smokers and nonsmokers alike, and John, who was rather round, is coming to join us. The balcony is already full and I get suddenly scared, that the balcony will not hold all of us. "John, you can not come here, or all of us will fall." John backed up and I hurriedly finished my cigarette and walked back to the apartment.
I left the party early afraid of conversations, because I am not willing to listen to anybody else then myself.
John approaching me on the porch of 506 is trying to penetrate a hard shell. Sometimes something sunk.
I am coming back from the long lasting trip and limping downstairs. It is three of us with an injured leg and John was one of us.
John who was able to give up smoking long time ago is standing with us outside on the freezing day and is trying to tell what he is doing with his life.The hard shell is cracking little bit. He is buying, selling and making little profit. He is coming to the house, when we are moving.
He is putting tasty cakes and Halloween candies on the table next to me. "John is trying to fatten you up." John is smiling little shy smile.
"I live across the street." I came to borrow movie Titanic and returned after two days. "Do something with your life. I go regularly to fire company."
John stopped coming. He went to Reading instead.
Couple days ago John was strangled by another man who trespassed Do not kill amendment.
I do not cry, but I am sorry, John. I will not meet you anymore. What the way to go.!

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 11/22/2011

Biography

2011-11-14T09:01:00.000-08:00

I spent first thirty three years behind iron curtain. In 1981 I followed my ex husband to United States. English is my second language. I also write in Czech www.aalfons.blogspot.com. I self published (with lot of help) in the Czech Republic a book called Aber die Konzen (But those ends) which I wrote in 1976.
I am a member of POW! (Pottsville Writers) and regularly contribute to GROW (England).

Marie Neumann

Betabitches

2011-11-14T08:49:00.000-08:00

How could I name a book Betabitches? It is named after one of the poems and also how veteranians call female dogs. Alfa dogs and alfa bitches get everything and beta are just a part of the pack. In the case the title offends somebody I apologize.
Poems were written between 2006-2010 and were copyrighted and published on the blog with the same name.
Thank you to Red Lead Press for willingness to publish them.

Marie Neumann

Mortality

2011-11-10T08:54:00.000-08:00

Growing together,
walking together,
living side by side.
Our children
went to school
about the same time.
Sharing, not sharing,
luck of communications.
Question is: why?
Little jealousies,
little victories ...
Didn't want to believe ...
It wasn't game.
Now, she is gone.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 11/8/2011

Paper heart

2011-11-05T05:45:00.000-07:00

The wind is blowing
scraps of a paper
down the street.
Lonely paper heart
landed at my feet.
I picked it up.
I am caressing
little white heart
with my forefinger.
I do no know
to whom you belong
little heart.
Maybe to the paper doll,
or you suppose to be
a Valentine,
or a part of the Birthday wishes
from one little girl
to her mom
on Mother's Day.
I touch paper heart
with my forefinger.
The heart turns pink.
Little paper heart
you loved to much
because somebody
cut you out
from the paper
with scissors
and gave you
as an expression of love.
Paper heart turns red
and I can feel a heartbeat
in my forefinger.
I have to release you now,
you don't belong to me.
The wind will take you,
where is your place.
The wind picked the heart
and carried it away
up the street
toward the projects,
where children
were playing
in the park.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 11/1/2011

Thanksgiving

2011-11-01T10:33:00.000-07:00

I wake up in the morning.
I am listening to my deep
even breathing.
Somebody told me
many years ago:
"When you are over fifty
and wake up in the morning
and you don't feel any pain,
it means you are dead."
I do not feel any pain.
Whole body is completely relaxed.
I am lying in the heated bedroom,
under warm, clean blankets
and my stomach
doesn't rumble from hunger.
I stretch and open my eyes.
There is already daylight.
It means I am retired.
I don't have to get up
at six o'clock in the morning,
have a shower, get dressed,
make up my face and hair,
have a rush breakfast,
drink hot coffee in the car,
put on professional smile
and hurry to the work.

With my eyes open
I can smile
and say "Good morning",
because there is somebody
to say "Good morning" to.

This is year 2011,
end of the war is near.
It is time to build bridges,
economy and secure borders.
It is time for peace.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 10/30/2011

Cemeteries

2011-10-27T09:33:00.000-07:00

Cemeteries beloved
Cemeteries, eternal gardens
Cemeteries - memories
Cemeteries, stone angels
Cemeteries, dead doves
lying helplessly
on the stone edge
Cemeteries, expired lives

Abandoned cars
We are looking
for spare parts
to an old Volkswagen.
Restored,
it will run as new.

Cemeteries, green gardens
peeking into the windows,
where two
are expressing their love.

Young mothers
with strollers
take their babies
for a walk -
those dear memories
of passionate love.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
10/18/2011

Childhood memories

2011-10-26T10:42:00.000-07:00

Childhood memories
full of dreams
and wishes.
One day
I shall grow up
and only crumbs
are left.
All paths
disappeared
into snowy
mountains
and howling wind
outside the windows
is reminding ...
- of what?
Of endless hours
of play like
there is no tomorrow.

Protective brothers
and sisters
who where always there
for comfort,
to calm down
each outcry,
to hang a red balloon
at the bed post.

Childhood memories -
mother's face
turned up
to my window
in the hospital.

Childhood memories
swept away
by living
grown up life.

Childhood memories,
world of illusions
and fairy tales.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 10/23/2011

Emotions

2011-10-20T09:02:00.000-07:00

Coming to you,
pushing away
in rather rapid
succession.
Wasn't able
to learn
how to handle
emotions.
Bursting of love,
coming to you,
loving you,
afraid
of big
emotions.
Coming to you,
loving you,
looking for
calm waters
to steady me.
Holding you,
clinging to you
to steady me.
Don't understanding,
understanding
emotions.
Loving you.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 10/18/2011

Choices

2011-10-14T12:11:00.000-07:00

I can not be a lesbian,
I like hairy chest.
You have to grow one.
I like the opposites,
you like the same.
Why do you like women,
when you should like men?
Why I see a glee,
when I should see a happiness?
It is not to please me,
I would like to see you happy,
silly, to play house,
to bloom like a woman,
to have your partner
only to yourself,
a man, or a woman.
Why I don't see
a happiness?
I see the glee.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, Summer 1999

POW!

2011-10-14T12:07:00.000-07:00

For Henry

Thank to your wife
for bringing you
to our town.
You are a founder
of POW!
and a source
of inspiration
for some -
me particular.
Without you
I would consume books
the others write.
Thanks to POW!
I also contribute
to my own delight.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, Summer 2011

Extracting memories

2011-10-14T11:55:00.000-07:00

Yes, you can.
No, you can't.
Sheltered childhood.
Different time zone.
Past time.
Present time
and the future.
Different culture.
When you dig
deep and deeper,
don't you envy
at least a little bit?
Even if you
will not admit?
Catholic background
for over one thousand
years.
All old traditions.
Don't you want
to become one?
Don't you envy?
Where is your past?
You have nothing
to hang on.
Views of artists
are different
from views of
greedy pigs.
What else?
Women's views
are different from men's.
Can you feel like
a woman?
No, you can't.
You throw a dirt
and look for dirt
in the people.
One day
you will die,
so I am
and then
we shall
never meet.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, Summer 2011

Blame

2011-10-14T11:48:00.000-07:00

Your responsibility,
because you never
confessed
and didn't accept
absolution.

Mea culpa ...

It wasn't your fault,
little one.
Magnified
by what happened
and what came after ...

Mea culpa ...

Rage storms
thorough apartment.
What irony:
a victim
of another ... ism.

All blame
on my head.
Will also
something fit
into my hat?

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, Summer 2011

Wandering shoes

2011-10-11T11:38:00.000-07:00

Did you polish
your travelling shoes?
They are tap tapping
in your closet.
Did you shine
your wandering shoes?
They are making noise
in your closet
like little chirping birds.
Did you try on
your old travelling shoes?
Tapity tap, tapity tap
over the hills,
over the rivers,
over the meadows
they run
and I don't mind
where I am going.
Away from
the sleepless nights,
away from
what it will be next
and what has to come.
Away, just away.
I shall come back
one day.
I know I shall be
back someday.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 10/1/2011

Monster next door 2

2011-09-16T10:31:00.000-07:00

A monster next door
knows I went to the store
food shopping.
He watched me coming home
with a half-full cart
of groceries.
He slams a door.
I unloaded the groceries,
my shelves were bare.
He slams the door.
I took the cart outside,
cooked a lunch and ate.
He slams the door.
The monster wants to be fed.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 9/1/2011

Santa Claus

2011-09-13T10:23:00.000-07:00

For Joe
Dear Santa,
this year is your turn
to sit
on somebody's lap
and tell him
your wishes.
You wish
for good health
(forget about
bottle of whisky)
and many years
of good service.
You wish
for your grandchildren
to sit on your lap
all year around.

Merry Christmas, Santa.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 8/25/2011

Cat's tail

2011-09-13T06:32:00.000-07:00

What is the purpose
of the cat's tail?
I do not know.
To walk
and hold it high.
When the cat eats
to lie down behind.
When the cat is lying
on the table
knocking down
my cigarette lighter,
cigarettes, scissors
and glasses case.
I know it shows a mood.
To cover a nose
when it is asleep
curled up in one ball.
What is the purpose
of the cat's tail?
I don't know.
You have to ask the cat.
MEOW.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 9/10/2011

September 2011

2011-09-13T06:18:00.000-07:00

Brooks and rivers
are overflowing
from hurricane Lee.
Some roads are blocked.
"You can not get there."
To much of angry
and powerful water.

Yellow golden rods
are blooming
along the highway.

It's warm and humid,
but some nights
are in low fifties.

First maple tree leaf
turned yellow.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 9/12/2011

Zucchinis

2011-09-13T06:12:00.000-07:00

Long green zucchinis
are hanging down
from a canopy.
Shadowy green tunnel
leads to a green door.
Zucchinis are unlit
lanterns,
ripe season of harvest.
White chair on the deck.
I can not sit down,
I am only passing by.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 9/3/2011

Stop sign

2011-09-07T10:21:00.000-07:00

Stop sign
Halt
A man with
a red flag
Detour
Railroad crossing
The gates are down
Nobody have seen
train coming
for past
twenty years
Another
stop sign
Red light
Another
red light
Missing bridge
Dead end
Dead end
Dead end.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 9/5/2011

Black

2011-09-07T10:16:00.000-07:00

Since you like black
I shall draw you
black horses, black cats,
black cows, black labradors,
black sheep and children
wearing black jeans,
and a little girl
running home
in her black shoes.
I lied.
I do not know
how to draw.

Happy Birthday!

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 9/6/2011

Silent book

2011-08-31T09:31:00.000-07:00

I opened a book
with white,
empty pages.
Nothing to read.
To much to write.
Afraid to write?
Nothing personal.
There were
just reflections.
I liked to write
and now
I am afraid.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 8/17/2011

Brussel sprouts

2011-08-31T09:27:00.001-07:00

Brussel sprouts,
miniature cabbages
on the stalk.

Copryright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 8/16/2011

Tomatoes2

2011-08-31T09:14:00.000-07:00

Planting Sierra, Boa and Buffalo tomatoes.
Growing cherry tomatoes,teaching to climb cherry
and toy boy in Florida. Some like yellow tomatoes.
Training Tiny Tim, Red Robin and Small Fry.
Pruning Early Girl, Prairie Fire,Moskvitch,
Better and Valley Girl.
Protecting Better, Super and Big Boy
from bad weather, bugs and caterpillars.
Harvesting Big Girl, Pink Odoriko,
Dad's Mug, Big Beef and Pink Ponderosa.
Cooking Milano, Roma and Green Zebra
with pleasure.
Eating and savoring all tomatoes.

I used Heritean, Jacqueline. Ortho's complete guide to vegetables. Des Moines, Ill., 1997. Pp. 129-137.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 8/15/2011

The unicorn

2011-08-18T10:48:00.001-07:00

I am curious
what are they
going to do
with the pictures
of the people
which passed away?
What are they
going to do
with the photographs
of deceased people?
I think, they want them
baptize and convert
to their church.
Nothing else occurs to me.
My good luck.
Otherwise I would sit,
from sheer terror,
on the hot stove.

Faith is dying,
Faith is awakening again.

Yesterday the unicorn
was shot to death.
Thousands of people
lit their candles.
I prey with them.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 8/1/2011

The ocean

2011-08-17T11:26:00.000-07:00

Ocean
green, blue
glittering, changing, calming
foam, whitecap, flood tide, ebb tide
sparkling, surfing, coming
waves

In the stacks

2011-08-15T08:33:00.000-07:00

The books are whispering
about lost loves,
murders for money
and passion.
They also share,
so limited,
and out of date,
human knowledge.

The stacks are silent
about students'
hugs and kisses,
about promises of love,
dates under the stars.
An old librarian found
one morning
hanging underwear
on Encyclopaedia Britannica,
volume L.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 8/14/2011

Lullaby

2011-07-30T10:15:00.000-07:00

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 beat.
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
Pttsville, 7/27/2011

Broccoli

2011-07-27T12:56:00.000-07:00

Mr. Clinton likes broccoli.
Broccoli is hanging
limply on my fork.
I don't suppose to use
dressing or cheese topping
to make it tasty.
Crunch, crunch, crunch,
broccoli is getting
between my teeth.
Eat your broccoli.
I prefer cherry tomato.
Eat your broccoli.
Can I have veggie stromboli?
If broccoli is present
I shall not see it.
It will be hiding.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/21/2011

Geezers

2011-07-27T12:49:00.000-07:00

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 them "Hi"
and exchange
a word or two.
You are young,
they will be pleased
talking to you.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/25/2011

Lost key

2011-07-25T14:23:00.000-07:00

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, 7/21/2011

Parsley

2011-07-25T09:03:00.000-07:00

What am I going to do
with a big parsley root?
I shall wash it well
and put it whole
into good, strong beef soup.

What am I going to do
with the big parsley root?
I shall cut it
into small pieces
and ad it to vegetable soup.

What am I going to do
with a big parsley root?
Wash it, clean it, boil it,
pickle it with vinegar,
serve it with food.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/23/2011

Kohlrabi

2011-07-23T11:09:00.000-07:00

Pulled young, fresh
from the patch
at the Spring time.
The top and skin go
to the rabbit.
I eat the rest
cut in pieces,
crispy, crunchy, tasty.
Rabbit is twitching
its nose:
I would like
to get more.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/23/2011

Integrity

2011-07-22T06:18:00.000-07:00

I lost my integrity
I was so proud off.
"She has integrity,"
people whispered;
and said aloud, too.
I even heard a 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,
asking back:
"Why do you ask?"
and
"Why do you want
to know?"
I am having more fun.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/21/2011

Masks

2011-07-19T13:20:00.000-07:00

What I see in their eyes?
They don't give away emotions.
Don't show any feeling.
Only a mouth gives away
thoughts, constructive ideas,
fast way of thinking.
Wear a mask.
Provide tears
when whole nation is weeping.
You have to wear a mask
to survive.
Do not show,
what you are thinking,
not even to your friends.
They are not friends,
only acquaintances and cliques.
Do not cry,
or you will become a joke.
One day I wanted to see
my face under the mask -
my real face.
The mask won't come off.
It became my face.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, July, 2008

Pumpkins

2011-07-18T12:13:00.000-07:00

Pumpkin field
orange lanterns
dressed for Halloween
Pumpkin seeds
and pumpkin pie
The biggest pumpkin
and many small ones
ready for carving
of scarry or funny faces.
Look, pumpkin field
is in town.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/14/2011

Garlic

2011-07-18T12:07:00.000-07:00

Each clove carefully wrapped
in its individual skin
like candies in the store,
or precious jewel.
All cloves are so perfect,
they create one ball.
Eat garlic when influenza
or vampires are in town.
Second day my skin and breath
rake of garlic.
I know something is missing,
when I eat some dishes -
garlic, garlic isn't there.
It doesn't taste the same.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/15/2011

Onions

2011-07-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

Onions on the wagon
Onions to the store
Onions in gold brown skin
Onion rings
Onions for the salads
Strong, pungent, biting,
spicy onions.
Sweet onions
for delicate stomach
Always out of onions
Go to the store
to get onions
for the cooking
Onions for the sauces
Onions, onions, onions
Not enough onions.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/15/2011

Pigeon

2011-07-11T09:56:00.000-07:00

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 clinique 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

2011-07-09T05:51:00.000-07:00

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.

Pokracovani muzete najit na www.aalfons.blogspot.com

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

Resilience

2011-07-07T14:21:00.000-07:00

I hate to tell you, but Pegasus is a snob
and unicorn is pulling potato wagon in Idaho.
Czech and Moravian watermen 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 waterman'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, 7/5/2011

Lazy day

2011-07-07T14:12:00.000-07:00

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, 7/3/2011

Peppers (honest confession)

2011-07-07T12:38:00.000-07:00

They are green peppers
full of "poison",
because they didn't
have time to ripe.
Red peppers had a chance to ripe.
They are called sweet peppers.
Then they are yellow peppers.
They suppose to be democrats.

Long time ago somebody fed me
with peppers marinated in oil
to take the poison out
prepared by his mom.
They were a delight.

Peppers were O.K.
as they say
until one night
I ate three old days
green peppers ("poison" ones)
already cut in stripes.
That night I was very sick.
You can have
all peppers in the World,
you also can have mine.
I am done.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/6/2011

Beans' Goddess

2011-07-07T12:21:00.000-07:00

She is walking down the mountain dressed in dry beans necklaces from her neck to the toes. The beans gently rattle. As she walks she tosses one necklace after another over
dry fertile soil. Necklace of kidney, green, black, navy, pinto and wax beans she drops in Americas. She leaves lima beans necklace in Peru. Soy beans, azuka, and mung beans she throws over Asia and the necklace of fava beans is dropped in Europe. In her heels comes rain and thunder. When she is undressed she disappears in the river. She leaves flatulence as a little joke.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/1/2011

Tomatoes (Tongue twister)

2011-07-05T10:42:00.000-07:00

For Hailey

Tammy picks tomatoes in the tomato patch. Tommy trots to the tomato patch, trips over No trespass sign and talks to Tammy: "Tammy, give me a tomato." "Why don't you take an empty basket and help me to pick tomatoes in this tomato patch? Tomatoes are ripe and they have to go tomorrow to the market." Tom and Tammy pick tomatoes. They are round, smooth, soft and red like Tammy's cheeks. Tommy takes tomatoes to town today.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/2/2011

I am missing some poems. In 2008 I had 34 entries, now there is only one. Some moved to 2009 and some are missing.

Pegasus

2011-07-02T09:10:00.000-07:00

Another night Pegasus
flew by my window.
He didn't stop to say: Hi.
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, 7/1/2011

Potatoes

2011-07-02T09:05:00.000-07:00

On Monday
potatoes from Idaho
On Tuesday potato soup
On Wednesday red potatoes
boiled in their skin
and sprinkled with parsley
On Thursday yellow
Yukon potatoes with meat
On Friday white potatoes
served with fish
On Saturday chicken
and potato salad
On Sunday a cake.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/1/2011

Corn

2011-07-02T08:53:00.000-07:00

Maze
Green Sea
Sweet, dent corn, popcorn
Tortillas, tomatoes, porridge, cornflakes
Feed, poultry, livestock
Corn syrup, oil
Atole

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 7/1/2011

Cabbage

2011-06-29T08:15:00.000-07:00

Its leaves tightly and neatly
packed into one big ball.
I do not say green leaves,
I do not want to discriminate
red cabbage which goes nicely
with a duck.
I didn't see anybody to eat
raw cabbage,
always prepared like
Chinese salad with garlic
and mushrooms,
stuffed pigeons stubbornly
called halupki,
Czech dumplings with cabbage
and pork
sprinkled with little bit
of caraway seed.
leave my cabbage alone
means something like
mind your own business.
Today I had grilled chicken
with coleslaw
and a bun for lunch.
A jar with kimchi
broke in my suitcase once
so I had kimchi clothes
with kimchi shampoo
pyjamas and shoes.
At block parties
I enjoy halushki with cabbage
and I ate thick Russian borscht
more than once.
I make cabbage soup
and a soup with kraut.
It looks like
everybody has use
for cabbage
made several ways
and it always tastes great.

You still don't care
for cabbage?

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/27/2011

Professor Meany

2011-06-29T08:08:00.000-07:00

Professor Meany
is here.
He teaches
criminal justice.
Meany has
forty students.
He uses me
as a target.
I am dead meat.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/29/2011

Cucumbers

2011-06-23T08:17:00.000-07:00

For Q
Q- q- q- cucumber
cool as cucumber
and room temperature too
cucumber sandwiches
cues for salad
cues as shell
for another salad.
The ends
on the forehead
have cooling effect
cucumbers on the eyelids
are seeking youth

Q- q- q- cucumbers
and their multipurpose use
Cucumbers made into pickles
are smiling in the jars
on supermarkets shelves
next to mustard, ketchup
hot dogs and buns
ready to celebrate
4th of July.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/21/2011

My bag

2011-06-21T08:27:00.000-07:00

Dogs and cats
dragged my bag
on the street
to the field,
from the field
through the puddle
and the dirty road.
Hey, dogs and cats
bring me my bag back.
Be in a hurry!
I have a bus ticket there
and the bus is leaving.
The dogs and cats
it is not fair
it is my bag
and not your toy.
The dogs and cats
had so much fun
they brought me their toy
in tatters shredded
into pieces and the bus ticket
is missing.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/20.2011

Parking lot

2011-06-20T13:09:00.000-07:00

There is a parking lot
for eight cars now
where used to be a house.
I am walking over asphalt
interrupted by white lines.
Am I stepping on the memories
of erased house
or are they forever gone?
Parking lots - toothless gums
after broken teeth
were pulled out
off the street.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/19/2011

Watermelon

2011-06-20T09:02:00.000-07:00

As a child
I liked to eat
watermelon
sliced
sitting on the steps
with my siblings
and spitting
black seeds
on the sidewalk.
I wanted to eat
watermelon
in swimsuit
in the bathtub,
red juice
from ear to ear,
dripping down
my chin.
I still count
how many
watermelons
I can eat
each season.
I am civilized now
and watermelons
are seedless.
Refrigareted
slice cut into
little cubes
and I use
fork and knife
so I do not have
juicy smile
from ear to ear
and nothing
is dribbling
down my chin.
I do not have
to have
icecream.
It is watermelon
I like.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/17/2011

Beautiful radishes

2011-06-20T08:51:00.000-07:00

Beautiful radishes
on my table
tied in bunch
by rubber band
with green leaves
I can not eat.
Beautiful fresh
red radishes
with such
little mice tails
of roots,
which can feed
large red bulbs.
I can eat them,
make them
to look like roses
to decorate a plate.
I like to eat them
with bread and butter,
and perhaps,
a sliver of cheese.

I wanted cherries
when I walked to the store.
It rained a lot
this Spring.
They cost more
I can afford.

Red fresh radishes
three bunches
for dollar.
I enjoy to eat.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/18/2011

Networks

2011-06-20T08:38:00.000-07:00

"I have a thousand friends
on the Facebook."
"I am on My Space
every day."
Are they imaginary friends?
I do not understand.
Are you going visit them?
You know what is going on
and I don't.
Maybe I don't want to know.
"It is my Birthday today
and I shall not sleep
if nobody will wish me well."
My imaginary friends
I never met.
You can handle only
as many friends.
When you have to many
where you will find time
for yourself and your family?
Are your children on your Facebook
telling you how was their day?
I am on computer.
Don't you see?
I do not understand,
or is it just another game
I didn't learn?

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/14/2011

Truffles

2011-06-13T09:41:00.000-07:00

I am a pig
I love truffles
French also
love truffles.
They tie a rope
around my neck
and take me
for a walk.
I like to go
for walk.
I look for truffles
I smell truffles
I root up truffles.
They pull me away
from my treasure,
they dig out truffles,
they eat my truffles
and I get pigswill.
I love truffles.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/12/2011

Water and fire

2011-06-13T09:37:00.000-07:00

Water trickles
drop by drop
then turns
into long mane
of water queen.
"I like your hair
water,"
says fire.
Stay away from me,
fire.
I shall douse you.
So fire jumps
around the river
afraid to come closer
because water is right.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/11/2011

Thank you for life

2011-06-10T12:36:00.000-07:00

It seems my pity for people dried up.
At least for those who ask for it.
I rather look into eyes who beaten up by life
are shuffling near the wall to do not offend anybody
and do not become a target for their foul play.
I am looking for their eyes. I can not find them,
because they even avoid an eye contact
just for case, they do not wish to upset anybody.
They have human eyes. The eyes which do not expect
human kindness and friendly words.
They are clutching their little worn out purses
to their chest with their meager savings
to buy milk and bread.
Thank you, I can get by. They took my cereal
and pennies I was saving in a box.
They are asking for an apartment number
of those who live alone.
They are afraid to get out of their apartments,
their only save place to live, to remember.
I am the last left. All my family is gone.
What choice do I have
when I don't want to live in a cave?
Thank you for a roof above my head,
cold and hot water, thank you for a fridge
and a stove, and above all
flushing toilet and a shower.
Thank you for few friends I can talk to.
Thank you for free food given by friendly faces.
Thank you for free Sun, rain and night's darkness.
Thank you I slept well last night.
I am meeting shortly my daughter.
I am lucky to have her.
I am alive and others are dead.
Thank you for my life.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/10/2011

Sausages

2011-06-10T10:44:00.000-07:00

I drool over sausages
on the stick,
or as a cold meat.
Spiral ham,
honey cured ham,
hungarian, genoa salami ...
I eat a carrot, lettuce
and spinach,
red apples for lunch.
Then I go for walk
to watch
smoked rabbits
still running around
in their fur coats.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/2/2011

English

2011-06-09T16:28:00.000-07:00

His English is British
and bookish.
Wait for his sentence to come up.
It requires daily practice
until he will sleep
and dream in English.
English opens
a door for him
to English speaking world
and the doorways
will be open always.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, Fall 2010

Nancy Drew's mysteries

2011-06-08T11:36:00.000-07:00

Checking them out
by half a dozen
bringing them back
one by one.
Summer is changing
into fall season.
Days are cool and crisp
I am walking
to the library
checking out the books ...
bringing them back ...

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, Fall 2010

What is wrong with you?

2011-06-08T11:19:00.000-07:00

What is wrong with you?
Are you bipolar, kleptomaniac,
or sexually dissatisfied?
Are you a gang leader,
night prowler,
or plainly a hat bowler?
What is wrong with you?

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, Winter 2011

Flat headed cat

2011-06-08T11:14:00.000-07:00

I have a cat
with completely
flat head.
We have a cat
with completely
flat head.
You have a cat
with completely
flat head
so ideal
to take it gently
into a palm
of one head -
- and push it away.
The cat bites.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, Winter 2011

Dougnuts

2011-06-08T11:11:00.000-07:00

There is Dunkin'
Drive in
right behind
the corner.
Have a one or two
and coffee to go.
Come in,
have a coffee
over a gossip
with a twist.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottssville, Winter 2011

Sudetenland

2011-06-04T06:19:00.000-07:00

An old cemetery
overgrown with rhododendrons
with iron fences and gates.
We are reading German names.
Sometimes we come
to read poetry,
because it is quiet here
and we feel
romantic, morbid?
We are teenagers,
we didn't know
these people - they are dead.
Their relatives are in Germany,
or dead.
We are new here,
our families came
to populate Sudetenland.
Maybe we are reaching
for connections,
curiosity about people
who came here
long time ago,
or just we like
overgrown rhododendrons.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 6/2/2011

Motherly love

2011-06-04T06:01:00.000-07:00

How you will win
your children?
You will serve them
your siblings ...
One with spinach,
another with roasted
potatoes
and the third one
with corn and rice.
How you will serve
your siblings
to your children?
With love.
There is something wrong.
This is what
the family is for.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, March 2011

My brother's third tall tale

2011-06-02T13:52:00.000-07:00

My brother went to big city to school to learn how to drive a steam locomotive. One time he came home for a weekend. He gave me a friendly slap and said he drove an old locomotive and it's parking now at the terminal on the twelve track. If we would like to come and see it. We didn't. How will you get back? I have to drive first to Cheb, it is a big terminal, where I can turn around and go back.
Then he gave me another slap for meddling into something what wasn't my business. "You said to Tina I have a girl friend." "I didn't talk to Tina and you always have a girl friend, one or two." "How did she find out?" "I go to same class with Hanka from Tina's village. She asked."
Brother began to talk about happenings in the big city. "There was a big accident. The elevator's cables broke and the elevator fell down from the fifteenth floor. "Was somebody in it?" He paused for a while. "Do you remember my friend Toni?" "Is it the same one you won a bet for eating a worm?? "Yes. He came to the building just in time of crush. He went to take a closer look. There was a broken elevator and nobody around, so he crawled inside of the rubble. They found him there lying unconscious. They took him to the hospital for x-rays. He didn't have a single bone broken. Not even a scratch. He complains about headaches, dizzy spells and blurred vision. He can not work anymore, so he will be getting disability pension. His lawyer is suing an elevator company. He might get a nice package. You do not tell this to anybody, do you hear? Or I shall tear your years off!"
There was no waiting locomotive in the depot, I met Toni on the town square two weeks later. Tina was still disappointed and I tried to avoid my classmate from her village, because I didn't want to carry any more messages.
My brother and I can not keep our mouths shut and we share the same vivid imagination.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, January 2011

How do you punish a moron?

2011-06-02T08:53:00.000-07:00

How do you punish a moron?
With a dandelion to her palm ....
Do not feed her?
Take TV privileges?
Put her into a cage?
We don't do that.
Change prescription,
ad more pills,
take off some pills,
change a diet,
no fat diet,
vegetable diet,
so they will grow week.
I talk to them every day.
Somehow it doesn't penetrate.

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 5/28/2011

Line

2011-06-01T08:37:00.000-07:00

I didn't want to work
in a prison
for people who crossed a line.
Where is the line?
Everybody is crossing
to get faster
to the other side
of the street,
to get piece of neighbors
property for free.
To get a better job,
to get a job,
to jump a neighbor's wife.
Everybody is crossing.
Then - where is the line?

Copyright (c) Marie Neumann
Pottsville, 5/28/2011