Frames of my mind

Christmas wreath on the door with colorful lights on. Another concert is going on today and we missed German Christkindlmarkt with all nice ideas how to spend money. Are we getting live Christmas tree this year? Were are we going to put it? There should be big cleaning going on and I am idle, sitting on the sofa with elevated leg. Presents for grandchildren are packed, and will be going tomorrow. Down on the boxes I wrote: “Cheap stuff” to curb big expectations. What they will say I hate to think. Preparations for Christmas are going on. There will be more concerts and caroling and gathering under the City Christmas tree. And Christmas Eve? It will be only two of us and the cat, and outside sparrows waiting for their crumbs. Merry Christmas to you. Merry Christmas to us. Copyright © Marie Neumann Pottsville, 12/6/2014 GROW assignment

Identity 2

My identity was stolen. I don't have any credit cards and I don't want them. They are for working class. I still have my passport with my picture in it, so I can travel. I make trips to the post office and grocery stores. I watch beautiful nature and skies and smile at people I can identify with. Well, I didn't find an original poem either, so I am making it up, but it isn't the same. It sucks. Copyright © Marie Neumann 1/13

A seagull

A seagull with white lines around its eyes is walking on a boardwalk in Atlantic City, U.S.A. It looks at me with one eye, then turns its head and I can see symmetrical lines around both eyes. “What a beautiful bird you are.” The bird stands still for a moment in front of casino her husband built for Ivanka, his wife. The seagull looks and then he trots on the boardwalk A connection was broken. Copyright © Marie Neumann Spring 2012

Haunted dreams

Haunted dreams, haunted sleepless nights. Mistakes and deeds under magnifying glass. Something cracks in the wall, quick footsteps in the alley. Is it a face in the glass door? Wind just knocked a chair outside, or was it a giant's breath? Knock, knock on the outer wall. It is a loose wire. Something is coming to the kitchen... An orange cat came for his midnight snack. Another sleepless night. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 10/2014

When I am down

Before I die I'll unlock all secrets of the vehicle I drive in - deliberately, or not. Shall I have a choice? And is it important? Where shall I go? I don't know. Marching, or to be dragged on … This is a beautiful planet we live on. Why to think about dying and try to scare myself to death? It's time to weed a little garden, prepare a lunch, and rake old leaves for new grass to come. Find out what my friend thinks about our new neighbor and choose proper words to find out from her, who she is and where she came from. Copyright © Marie Neumann 2013

A cane

Don and Kristi were visiting a nearby town known for its train station, beautiful view from a mountain and European looking twisting streets. Kristi still can see in her mind gliders jumping down from the top of the mountain and fly in the air like big colorful birds before gliding was banned. Too many accidents, they said. For lunch they looked at the menu outside of English restaurant and decided on a little Chinese place, where they could get hot tea, because it was a cold and windy October day. After the pleasant lunch in a warm restaurant they decided to visit two mansions on a crest of a hill. The town was built mostly with the money of coal barons. First mansion was closed. It was under construction. Second mansion was built for a son. It had a turret. The tourists entered and walked on soft carpets. They turned down a bar with a large assortments of wines. “We don't drink.” “Wine would warm and cheer you up.” “Thank you. We are O.K.” There was a large sitting room on the left side connected with a dining room. The table could seat twenty four people. At the end of the hallway they received a list with a description of the study on the right side. They walked inside, looked around, notice a fireplace stuffed with a crumpled aluminum foil. “What a poor imitation of a fire,” she thought. It was not a pleasant, inviting room. They sat on the chairs, read written description and were waiting for the guide to show up. There were bookshelves and a large desk. On the chair behind the desk hung plain, wooden cane. “Something what I just could use,” she thought, because after all walking her leg bothered her. It even popped into her head to nick the cane. She got up from the chair and walked on adjacent balcony with, what did the guide say, Italian tiles. Then she returned to the room. She decided she didn't like the room at all. There was uneasy atmosphere. Something bad had happened here, she could feel – and it was the worst. “Lets go”, she said to Don. “The guide will not show.” They walked to the second floor with several bedrooms. It was a part of guided tour. The guide didn't say much about the owner of the mansion. Was he emotionally disturbed? Was he married? Did they have children? Soon they left the big house with a tight, unpleasant feeling like somebody was looking at their backs. For a while they were at a train station, visited a model train museum, and a gift shop. Then they left the town. They even didn't stop in the park or to look at the river. After returning home she had to think about gloomy , unpleasant room in the mansion. Then she put it out of her mind. Next Saturday when she went thorough the broom closet looking for a vacuum cleaner, she noticed the wooden cane hanging on the peg on the wall. “May I have this cane, Don? It looks like the cane I wanted to nick from that mansion.” “Yes, you may, but I haven't see this cane here before.” Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 2011

News

Heifer was cornered in the alley behind Vegan restaurant with a garbage can stuck on her head in Philadelphia suburbs. She will be send to to the butcher. Note: She still could make a good cow. Marie Neumann 2010?

Noses

Once upon a time there were two villages. One on the south side of the mountain, where people with short noses lived. On the other side lived the owners of long noses. Each village was proud of the size of their nose-ship and both villages liked to keep their noses clean. Small nose village was called Shirts, because how Long Nose village called them: button up your shirt with your nose under your neck. Shirts also grew sweet grapes on their sunny side of the mountain. “You have nothing to grow on your side of the hill, this is why your noses grew so long from envy. Long nose people, especially women, were known for being nosy, always wanted to know what the neighbors where doing, what they were cooking, what their goats were eating. “You are nosy!" "It's none of your business!” When long nosed people met short noses they called: “Cover up your noses, it will be raining, so your nose will stay dry.” On the mountain lived a special category of people, people with crooked noses, noses to the left, or to the right; noses with a hump. These people were saving money from selling sheep wool and sheep and one day quietly disappeared into the city to get their noses done. After that they found living in the City with people who have had straight Roman noses and when they met someone with a teeny nose they called: your nose is cute as a button, so people from Shirts were pulling noses of their babies and small children to make their noses to grow bigger. What about people from Long Noses? Are they also saving money to disappear into the City to get their noses shorten? No way! Long noses are very proud of their long noses. “We can afford their length.” Their mayor have to have the longest nose in town. “Our noses give us our personality. We don't care about uniformity of straight noses. So noses in the City are all mixed up, only in Long Noses they keep their long noses. It's called tradition. Marie Neumann, 10/12/14 Copyright (c)

Dead fly*

You don't have to do your chores tonight. Why? Because you killed a fly, big vicious fly, who wanted to eat our pie. You killed it with a fly swat and smashed on the table. Dead fly isn't able to eat our pie. Have a rest. You are a hero who killed the fly. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 7/22/2014 * A variation on "An old lady who swallowed a fly"

Bridge

Bridge on the dirty road (for local traffic only) over Bosque river. Parallel is busy traffic on highway. The road passes cemetery full of her family. A barn built on order. Planks were shipped via train. Red bird is singing. Bridge to understanding. We could have fun together. I was to tight. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 6/14/2014

Space

Space Space, space, I need more space to hang upside down from the ceiling. A closet is to small and all insect died there, or was eliminated long time ago. The closet smells like moth balls and lavender. I need space, space to hang down from the ceiling, to fly out thorough an open window into black night to look for live insect, to hunt until morning and then come back to hang down from the ceiling; try to sleep. No, they are using detergent, they are spraying and scrubbing the floor right, under where I hang. Space , space … One lonely bat is looking for spacious barn in the country to share living, and some social life, with other bats. Space, space, what I need is space. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 6/12/2014 POW! assignment

Ding

Ding, ping wearing pink lost his shoes, has to go barefoot without boots. Hop, hop, jumps over rocks. Ding, ping lost his sting Jumps hop-scotch. Bearded ding dances csardas he enjoys so much. Ding, mink everywhere stinks. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 2011

Hell and Heaven

All angels’ trays are overflowing with miracles’ requests and other calls for help. Hell reports the highest unemployment rate in years. Devils are having locusts, fire-ants and such for breakfast, dinner and lunch. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 2013

Sneezes

Honey, I am home. A house is empty, my honey is spending money in the store. Did you hear little tiny sneezes during the night? You have to listen well. My eyes caught a cold. They have cold and they suppose to sneeze, too. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2012

Shards

Beautiful July Saturday afternoon. Little boy is riding his new, red bike, with training wheels, on the cemetery road. "Where is your cat?" he yells. My cat didn't get a bike and he doesn't know how to ride it, so he can't do what you can. Middle aged woman walks her dog. The dog poops and she doesn't pick up after him. Then she returns her dog home, comes back and lays down in a little cemetery clearing to get little suntan. An old man is buying two cheeseburgers and two coffees in a mini market. He spills coffee, doesn't ask for refill and pays full price. How will he explain half full cup of coffee to his mate? "I spilled it. I am too old." Little bit memory written on a paper. Little bit memory will not get lost. It is a nice warm day. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, July 2011

Ruined Birthday

It suppose to be your Birthday present like a candle, which doesn't sing and you couldn't blow it, so none of your wishes came thorough. Now you have to wait for your next Birthday. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 2011

Broken dishes

I trample over shards of broken dishes I broke and didn't clean twenty thirty years ago. There is no forgiveness, Mary, pay now, pay, pay. I am avoiding broken pieces. Someone clean that floor. Dishes have gotten broken. Ask for payment. When you will not forgive me I'll come each night to pee under your window, because you are such … Copyright © Marie Neumann 5/13/2014 I translated Czech original written sometimes in 2011

Ghost

We just created another ghost. Stuff it in the box, put the box in the closet, close the door. Copyright © Marie Neumann 2011

Good news

A farm cat caught a chick and brought it home. Unharmed chick was taken from the cat and returned to its parents. The cat is under house arrest. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 5/2/2014

Invasion

We let television to our house. TV is telling us what to buy, what to think. It even tries to mess up our sex life. TV is talking loud in each room. We can't hear a single word, so we don't communicate. It is a silent World, where only TV has its final word. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann 5/2/2014

A truck

It is not a duck, it is a truck road crossing. There goes another one and another ... But where is a mother truck? Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 9/2013

Going groceries shopping

I already took a shower and I am dressed to go out. Shopping bags are prepared on one chair, so I will not forget them. Write a check for the bank. Put my usual shopping bag on the second chair. Let a cat out. Prepare going out letters in the mail-box for a postman to pick them up. Lock the door and hang the chain. Put on the railing a winter coat. It is Spring time and I will not need it (I hope) till next Fall. I'll take it upstairs, when I'll get back. Let the cat in. Clean and take the right glasses. Put shoes on. No, the cat, you can not go out now. Forget a grocery list waiting on the kitchen table. Turn off the lights. Lock the door behind me. Do I have everything? Usually I forget one thing, or two – which is good. I forgot to sign the check and only three things from the grocery list lying on the table. Copyright © Marie Neumann 4/14/2014

Aloe

The aloe plant was knocked down from the table for a third time. Twice by the careless cook who tried to get into the fridge in the hurry, and once by the greedy cat who nibbled on two juicy leaves. The cook didn't wait for warmer weather. She dug a hole and put the plant into the soil. It is early April and the aloe leaves are shivering in the cold weather. Daffodils are nodding their heads sympathetically in the wind. "Try to survive till' tomorrow. It will be nice warm day. You didn't come directly from the South, did you? You know little bit about our weather, don't you?" "I grew up in the green house. I don't know anything about Winter." "Winter is gone. We bloom in Spring.. Look at the robin checking flower beds for worms. You are a strong plant. You can survive. At least here you will not get eaten by the cat with a belly ache. He tasted our leaves, too. Survive." The aloe stopped shivering behind the rock, which protected it from the draft blowing down the alley. The roots were tapping the soil. Not bad. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 4/2013

Clogs

Don't wear hooves, I mean sensible orthopedic shoes, when you go dancing. Get clogs, so you can clog to the left, to the right and in the line. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/13

Sleepy Pippin

An orange cat sleeps about twenty hours a day. During night he sleeps on the pillow on the top of the trunk in the bedroom by the bay window. Breakfast, lunch and supper Pippin eats with us. It's supper when he gets from time to time little piece of our food. In the morning he watches the birds out of the bathroom window. He has his office hours. After the bird watching he sleeps in my room, or on the cushioned chair in Ben's office. On the evening, when a radiator is on, he sleeps with his paws under the radiator. He takes care of his arthritis. The cat sleeps on the top of the bed, sofa, in my corner of the sofa, dining chairs. Well he sleeps everywhere. When he is awakened by loud noise, like sneezing, he bites human toes. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 2/13/2013

Wicker basket 2

talking marriage, and how they are Going to hang new wicker basket over the sink. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/13

The destroyed wicker basket (Czech nursery song theme)

Little Joe, why did you crushed Annie’s wicker basket under your feet? Little Joe, why did you trotted over Annie’s basket? You'll have to pay for it now. I am not going to pay for it, I rather join military service. Don't join military, your parents will be sad. I am still going to do it in spite of my parents. Little Joe is in the Army now, Annie’s wicker basket is destroyed and Annie is taking weaving classes to make new one and in the evenings is writing long letters to Joe. They are even

Potholes

One big pothole says to another pothole: Lets multiply! and soon enough the road is full of potholes and little potholes grow and say to another potholes: lets multiply ... And it is how big road repairs began. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 4/3/2014

Peeling an onion

I peel the onion, first paper thin protective brown skin. Then layer after layer of onion. At this activity I cry. It is a regular onion and not Vidalia. Layers are getting smaller the same as the onion. What is inside after I peel everything? Nothing. Nothing is left but on the side a small pile of pungent onion skins. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann February 2014 assignment

Chicken eggs

Farmer's wife went early morning to collect chicken eggs. There was nothing in the chicken coop. She stopped in the barn, looked in all corners, under the machinery, and on the back. There was nothing either. Her next stop was at the cows. It happened before that chickens laid their eggs in the hay. She couldn't find anything. She even looked into cows' mouths searching for broken egg shells and smeared egg yolks. Nothing. Did they stopped laying eggs? Why? She came home empty handed and her husband was asking for the eggs sunny side up. She drove to the store, but the shelves, where the eggs usually are, were empty. Nothing was there. “The farms in the country are snowed in. They couldn't deliver today, or yesterday.” She borrowed couple eggs from the neighbor. It wasn't wise to cross her husband in the morning. “You are late.” She quickly fried bacon and eggs. After her husband left she went to search again. This wasn't her first time she couldn't find a single egg. This was actually going on for about a month. She searched yard, flower beds, vegetable garden, under trees, by the fence. The dog was in her doghouse. She was very quiet. What is going on with that dog? So she went to peek inside. The dog was keeping warm three nests full of eggs while the hens were pecking around. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, February 2014 GROW assignment

Don't feel sorry for yourself

There will be always mountains to climb, rivers to cross and valleys to walk. Just do not feel sorry for yourself. There will be always sky, clouds, rain and raising Sun and shining Moon in the night. Just do not feel sorry for yourself. It's a nice day, the Sun is shining on the white snow glittering with thousands of tiny diamonds. Weather is bitterly cold. This cold kills unwanted bugs, worms, and such. Just do not feel sorry for yourself. I have you, you have me and we own one sleepy cat. Just do not feel sorry for yourself. All right? Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, PA sorry for yourself.

Circles

Little circles holding shower curtains to be open and snapped shut. Circular dining plates on the round kitchen table with a blue pattern of a country life. The table is covered with round 60” tablecloth. Glasses are two circles, or entity of circles on the top of each other. Hula hoop hangs on the nail waiting for Spring and a little girl to play. Draw a circle for a head, two almonds for the eyes and a “o” for a mouth in surprise. I see deep circles under your eyes. Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/15/2014

Bubbles

Bubbles got drunk on sweet red currant wine They float in the air Bumping into clouds Hiccup, hiccup, hiccup It's not fair Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 1/15/14

Letters

Letters We learned a skill how to write letters in 3rd grade, I think: a date, dear Annie, introduction, a body, and closing greetings . We were also told to write something entertaining if we like to expect an answer. To ask her about her interests and hobbies. Then little bit about ourselves. Nothing boring. In introduction was the basics about a family, how my brother made a blue kite a how the kite flies. About our trips. Skip disasters, because the letter would be to long. When we absorbed how to write letters our teacher brought to us a list of prospective pen pals. Mine was Marienka from Slovakia. She taught me a blueberry in Slovak is cucoriedka and I envied her her needlework. Mine was sloppy. I just didn't have a patience and my hands were clumsy. Excuses, because I didn't like to do it. Second pen pal was from Georgia. Somebody gave me her address and I was told what a fantastic and great girl she is. The answer came from completely different girl. She was just ordinary. She wrote in Russian and I also answered in Russian. For a while I had a pen pal from Germany. There were short letters, because my German wasn't strong. Her name was Giselle. Liebe Giselle … We mostly exchanged little cute presents. One time I sent her a Christmas ball. I think I didn't wrap it up properly. After that she didn't write back. Years later, when I was much older, I had a pen pal from Spain. We were exchanging post cards with three big words on the other side (to fill an empty space). I love you. My mother was fond of those post cards. She should learn English instead of me. They wouldn't cease so soon. I wrote letters to my mother. Writing was interrupted. When I wanted to write her a letter … Where? To a cemetery? Actually I still could write to her if my brother would put a mail box next to her grave – and read to her my letters. She would be pleased, but he would think I lost my marbles. After I moved to the States people stopped to write and I knew my letters were not welcome. Only a few kept answering. I asked questions. The answer came one month later, when I completely have forgotten, what I have asked. The letters were wonderful greetings from the old country. The art of writing letters is almost forgotten today. It is replaced by e-mail, twitter and a facebook. Quick, telegraphic communication which requires quick thinking. What we receive in the mail box are catalogs, invitations – and bills. I still like post stamps, though. Copyright (c) 12/2013 Marie Neumann