Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Station Master-book (excerpt)


Light!

 

 

 

 

A Mississippi riverboat captain knows many kinds of light…

 

…Moon light, star light, fog light, lantern light, fire light, dawn light,

dusk light, twilight, night light, southern light, northern light, blue light,

white light, laser light, high light, low light, hot light, cool light, cold light,

flood light, yellow light, cast light, shadow light, foot light, assimilated light,

sun light, reflected light, refracted light, near light, far light, search light, good light,

bad light, poor light, candle light, glow light, window light, sought light, intelligent light…

 

…But, for threading a long string of loaded cargo barges through

narrow channels of an unforgiving river, a knowledgeable boatman

prefers to test his skillful acumen in plain ole---

 

---Day light!


 

    “Pie are Square”!?

(a profound statement on sensibilities)

 

There just happens to be a mathematical formula for calculating the area of a circle.

That magic equation is: ; that is, Area equals 3.14159 times the Radius squared.

So, the area of a 10 foot radius circle (a 20 foot diameter) is: 3.1416 x 10(10) or 3.1416 times 100 or 314.159 sq. ft. A useful tool for engineers, draftsmen, construction or concrete workers.

Heard in the imprecise un-embellished hayseed colloquial dialect, thus, when spoken as “Pie are square”, the meaning can be, and is, easily distorted, to say the very laughable-least.

Self-appointed, self-diluted impotent importance is barely just become sophisticated idiocy!

Take us now, then, to the most sophisticated of the erudite celebrity at some command performance of Engineering School symposium of any prestigious university. Present, in demanded appearance attendance are the prestigious coiffured Dean holding court in the precise center of the ornate ball room directly under the crystal chandelier dancing gentle teasing caresses in enviable sparkles of pointed illumination over, around and down the nearly fully exposed jiggling ample alabaster soft voluptuous endowments of his majesty’s number one assistant, business-confidant and extracurricular very private playmate, Miss Sheryl Anne “Delightfully-luscious”, his Honor’s pet; a secret-whispered honey-name for her, du Montaigne.

In tow for the charade, though about as prominent as the bland baseboard in the hall, her latest adornment in a long line of seven, and counting, husbands, one Reginald, the Meagerest and Meaningless. Even the astute “Lady” du Montaigne might be hard pressed to remember each of the discarded spouse’s names without focused concentration and some prompting with hints of dates, and world renowned venues; perhaps a simple alphabet list, a, b, c might have better served the socialite. But, then, in fairness, after twenty-six dramatic failures statistically exhausting the alphabet,, then what? “A-A”, “B-B”? A wiser chance, perhaps: A-2, B-2? After all, Mon Amie, numbers determine to infinity, though, not so, longevity!?

Miss Sheryl’s real name and ancestry seemed as inconsequential as the varied degrees attached to the members of the dubious conclave’s assemblage. Yet, the “lady” proudly holds haughty doctorate designations in Quantum Physics, Nuclear Chemistry and the Humanities with a specialty in ancient Egyptian dynasty-studies. Riding heard over several advanced Graduate School subject offerings, the open-minded avowed leftist allows no favoritism to ever dare challenge her cultured and perceived all-inclusive practiced tolerance spectrum; the classes quickly fill with wanton desirous lustful male students intent on exacting every ounce of pleasure from their studious endeavors, an equal number of those of the female persuasion to fulfill fairness desires and a smattering of enamored femmes and dykes interested in getting even with chauvinist pigs while clutching close to demurely attractive specimens and furthering their personal and educational agenda. Boys will be boys! And, girls? Girls and dykes will do---well…boys or girls, or, both! Simultaneously! S’il vous plait? Mon Amour!

Unable to lay claim to any protocol semblance of acceptable social upper class resume enhancements, “Delightfully-luscious” holds class as Professor of Advanced Studies in addition to performing the demanding duties of assistant to the Dean, in itself, a full time, day and night, coquettish endeavor. An Iconoclast? Perhaps! Perverted!

Ah! One simply must endure! After all! Percepted masquerade is everything! C’est la vie!

Also in required attendance are the very excellent various department heads, elitist amongst the elite professors, haughty graduate students and sundry peons including invited undergrad students and a very few secretaries, dependent, of course, on which is in the preferred popular hierarchy of who’s who, at any given moment of the academic semester trial and error; the trial of the students through a grade system, not the error of the professors through any fault.

Champagne, of the correct vintage, is, of course, available; it is in the budget. But, sherry prevails as the beverage of importance to ivy leaguers in their tweed sport coats with color- contrasted suede patches at the elbows, light blue tailored button-down shirts with mirage gray stripes, open at the collar, dark brown creased to razor sharpness slacks held up with a matching belt and brown loafers for that, just so, sophisticated, yet casual, scholarly pretension.

The caviar is California white sturgeon Petrossian Special Reserve Ossetra to be served on lightly toasted semolina wheat croissants, only the very best of the best for the best of the best at just under seven thousand dollars for thirty-six ounces, enough to feed around twenty aficionados with the most exquisite taste buds, not unlike true, regal royalty of the European persuasion, the very best because their inbred lineage regresses so deeply into history; not, however to slight the impressive English, equally of the finest texture fabric of humankind, even with their dalliances and common folk associational dalliances. Then, of course, is the capitalism Mecca of the free world, that auspicious group of American self-appointed royal-pains, the executive, the legislative and the elite judiciary, wholly unable to find their own backsides without aid, much less abbreviate the myriad problems facing their constituents caused by terminal career cancer, revenue-sharing and the biggest fault of the entirety, lies, lies and even bigger lies. Amen!

Of course, the cheese plates are of the very finest crystal, not gaudy gold nor mother-of-pearl demanded of the ostentatious serving utensils for the fish eggs. The beautiful porcelain holds Cantalet cheese from France, Tallegio imported from northern Italy and English cow milk North County Blue served as a cocktail canapé with smoked salmon. All such delicacies to be drowned or washed down with Louis Roederer Cristal, vintage-2004, served in gleaming, thin goblets.

In a slight lull in the exquisite conversation a protégé is heard to say, “Pie are square.” The Dean quickly rallies to the defense of his associate and pronounces in an air of utter sophisticated erudite intelligent elucidated education, “You idiot, everybody knows that ‘Pie are round!’”

Square or round, whether the pies are my favorite, cherry custard, which my grandma made for me upon any urgent request, or apple, tinged with a golden brown top crust sugar-coated, or lemon with meringue three inches high that my mother makes, each wave of delight toasted to golden color, or chocolate or pecan, mom’s favorites, all are exceptional when baked with just the right ingredients, including that special secret subtlety: ample pure and abiding---love!

No one’s future is ever late!

Bon appetit! Mon Amie!

Random Contemplations

 

visit: Life; search: Truth!

 

challenge accepted “wisdom”;

focus contemplate “Truth!”

 

Love! Indeed! Conquers---all!

 

Amen!

 

 

 

Value sought; Virtue loved!

 

 

Stark demarcation lines blur to obfuscated shadows brush-

blended into obsolescent hues of meaningless faux endeavor

 

Amen!

 

 

Obfuscated Thought-Images

 

Shadowed-cloud reflections on the placid lake-surface of my mind

 

Amen!

 

 

Answers?

 

Change? Initiates wherein such concludes---always…Within!

 

 

And---In the Father’s name, Son, Holy Ghost…

 

“Irreverent”-intent to any world self-claimed faux authority;

“Reverent”-purpose only toward the one true Deity-Source

 

The “Artiste”!

 

Upon a canvas stark-white unblemished dare brush from life

vibrant-color palette exacerbated strokes daring emotion-wild!

 

 

Perspicacity-repository

 

Yonder! On the far horizon, deep-ocean water-blue;

close now upon the bow, sea-green white-flecked crest;

while in the wake, a trace of space visited, quick-done;

proud-boasted or insult-suffered, deep-sixed a-purpose;

intent-of-life to forward trek upon the journey-joyous;

treasure-“Good”, expect-“Better”, demand-“Best” of self;

embrace dawn’s “Good-bye!”-kiss to darkness-vanquished;

Satiate life’s whisper-wind fragrant rose-bloom on sweet air;

Love! Simply for Love-sake to free tethered love-spirit wild!

 

 

Dreamer!?

 

And, on the Easter Sunday eve came soft the dream

of Jesus’ lifeless body hanging triumphant upon yon

cross in exact peaceful-love sacred-personified, yet,

before these eyes asleep to reality, alive in dreams,

He awoke and came down from the evil-cross tree to

stand immaculate in body, soul and spirit: God-man!

 

In witness, I humble sacred-vow to simple state: Truth!

 

Amen!

 

 

Barefoot-Angel Tribute

 

White-winged sacred angel barefoot wild-dances flowing billowed

sheer gown contrasting-embracing a shadowed forest emerald-green.

 

Amen!

 

Soft-surf Caress 

 

High-noon sun trek yonder far horizon;

Alabaster-pale full moon-orb abyss-ascend;

love-kiss to rhythm-comfort near soft-surf.

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