Category: Uncategorized

He Rode Tall

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Excerpt

He’s probably just starting out, Joel thought. He guessed that
the doctor was a city person who was using the small community
to get started in the profession, with the intentions of moving to a
bigger city when he had more experience and had paid off some of
his debts from school.
After a brief explanation of the accident he had in the pasture
with the big buckskin, the doctor told him to take off his boot, his
sock, and roll up the leg of his Wranglers. As he leaned forward to
get a closer look, the young doctor asked, “Related to Edward
Hooper?”
“Yes I am. He was my father.”
“Thought so,” the doctor replied as he continued to poke and
prod at the ankle. Joel wasn’t sure if the young doctor was really
examining him or just buying time to think of what to say next.
“Well, Mr. Hooper, it looks like your ankle is on the way to a full
recovery. From what I can tell, nothing is broken. A few more
days and you should be back in the saddle again. How’s the
pain?”
Joel was surprised to hear himself replying, “Not bad.” In fact,
his ankle was hurting like hell.
The doctor, having treated his share of cowboys in his short
career since graduating from medical school, quickly translated
“not bad” to mean “it is hurting like heck, but I’ll be darned if I
admit it to you,” and offered Joel a sample box of Tylenol 3s, “just
in case it hurts you might want to take a few of these.”
With that, the doctor turned to the door, “Have a good day,
Mr. Hooper.”
“Thank you, Doctor. How did you know my father?”
“Mr. Hooper, you might not be aware of it, but not only have
you just been attended to by a doctor but also by the Montana
State Team Roping Champion. Two years in a row now since
coming back home from medical school in Seattle. When I was a
kid here, I did pretty fair at the high school rodeos as well. I roped
off a horse your dad sold me. Even back when I was a kid, my
father always said that there was only one place to go …

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0980897955

Orange

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At the Restaurant
You walked by me
sweet breeze of flowing hair
light scent of your aroma
bounced between our eyes
that met mid-way, you saw me
clinking to my mate
before I tasted my wine and
wanting to claim part
of that charm, you crossed
your legs almost indifferently
under the table to reveal the line
that controls the eyes of men
I smiled absentmindedly
towards you and
you pretended you didn’t
notice though almost innocently
you played the game of Eros and
when the nightmare
will wake you up
you’ll take a deep breath and
smiling, you will think:
‘I provoked the glance
of that middle-aged man’s
didn’t I?’

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763750

Yannis Ritsos – Poems, Volume I

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Moonlight Sonata

Τούτο το σπίτι με πνίγει. Μάλιστα η κουζίνα
είναι σαν το βυθό της θάλασσας.Τα μπρίκια κρεμασμένα γυαλίζουν
σα στρογγυλά, μεγάλα μάτια απίθανων ψαριών,
τα πιάτα σαλεύουν αργά σαν τις μέδουσες,
φύκια κι όστρακα πιάνονται στα μαλλιά μου – δεν μπορώ να 
τα ξεκολλήσω ύστερα,
δεν μπορώ ν’ ανέβω πάλι στην επιφάνεια –
ο δίσκος μου πέφτει απ’ τα χέρια άηχος, – σωριάζομαι
και βλέπω τις φυσαλίδες απ’ την ανάσα μου ν’ ανεβαίνουν,
ν’ ανεβαίνουν
και προσπαθώ να διασκεδάσω κοιτάζοντές τες
κι αναρωτιέμαι τι θα λέει αν κάποιος βρίσκεται από πάνω και 
βλέπει αυτές τις φυσαλίδες,
τάχα πως πνίγεται κάποιος ή πως ένας δύτης ανιχνεύει τους βυθούς;

This house suffocates me Especially the kitchen which is

like a sea bottom The hanging coffeepots glitter

like round large eyes of exquisite fishes

the plates move slowly like jellyfish

seaweed and shells clutch at my hair – I can’t unstuck

           them any longer

I can’t rise up to the surface again –

the platter falls off my hands soundless – I slump

and see bubbles from my breath rising

           and rising

and I try to have fun watching them

and I wonder what one standing above could say seeing

           these bubbles

perhaps that someone has drown or that a diver explores the sea

floor?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763076

Still Waters

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Excerpt

By seven o’clock that night, Tyne had her emotions under control.
She must not sound upset when she called Morley. Should she
refuse to go to church with him if he asked her, as he almost certainly
would? But no, why should she keep giving in? She took her wallet
from her handbag and removed the necessary change for the call.
On her way to the phone she met the house mother hurrying towards
her in the hallway. “Oh, Miss Milligan, there’s a call for you. I
think it’s your father. You may take it in the office.”
Tyne’s heart jumped. “Thank you, Mrs. Edge.” She had to stop herself
from running to the office. Why is Dad calling? What’s wrong?
Has something happened to Mom? Aunt Millie?
“Dad,” she spoke almost before she lifted the receiver, “is something
wrong?”
“No, no, Tyne, sorry if I frightened you. Everyone’s fine.”
Tyne let her breath out on a sigh. “Oh, it startled me, that’s all.
Especially since I talked to Mom just this afternoon.”
“Yes, she told me you have Christmas off and plan on coming
home.”
Something in his tone made Tyne wary. She did not hear excitement
in his voice. He was not calling to say he would be happy to see
her. “Yes. Will that be all right?”
Why did she say it? She had never before had to ask permission to
come home.
“Tyne, please know we’d love to have you home for Christmas.” He
cleared his throat. “But I don’t think it will be wise for you to come at
this time of year. For one thing, they’re predicting a big snowstorm
and blizzard over the holidays.”
Who’s predicting it, Dad? You?
“I haven’t heard that,” she said quietly. A sick, empty feeling began
to settle in the pit of her stomach. Her dad did not want her to come
home for Christmas.
“Well, I heard it, and we would be very worried if you were caught
in it. Those buses aren’t very reliable, you know. You wouldn’t want
to be here, and not be able to get back to Calgary, would you?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763068

Karyotakis-Polydouri, The Tragic Love Story

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Sadness of the Dusk
The roses of the dusk bloomed again tonight
golden, rosy, and purple
they faded tonight shedding their leaves
as I viewed them every evening
and every time I drink their fragrant dew
from their bloomed dawn I get intoxicated
in their soft and last breath
I consume each joy to its best.
Yet upon gazing the dusk tonight, I thought
of our love, that someday it will end
and when the roses of the dusk bloomed
golden, rosy, and purple
as they faded tonight shedding their leaves
this evening I got saddened.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763459

Savages and Beasts

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Excerpt

The funeral home personnel took care of the dirty work
of shoveling the soil over and sealing the plot. A sign with the
late priest’s name was placed on top until the official headstone
would be brought to the school and at that time they would place
it where it belonged.
It was a graciously looking day with a few scattered clouds
which created the oscillating mood of sunny and bright emotions
to melancholy and somber sensations suitable for a funeral. Anton
and Dylan attended the funeral as did all Residential School personnel.
After the ceremony Anton stepped around the grounds
looking at the plots and reading the names of the dead people;
he was always attracted to the numbers of a dead person’s life and
he quickly calculated in his mind the year of birth and death of
the person to see how old or young they had died. At one point
he came across a cross signifying burial site but there was no
name or any sign relating to the dead person buried in the plot.
He walked to Dylan and asked him.
“There is a burial plot without any name; do you know
who was buried there?”
Dylan walked with Anton to the burial site and upon
seeing it he remarked:
“This was a mass grave, for the children who died
during the virus epidemic ten years ago; remember George
referred to it the other day?”
“Ah, yes, but how many children died that time Dylan?”
“I don’t think anyone knows the exact number, son. However
there were at least one hundred deaths; we buried them in
bunches, it was hell, I tell you, the priests and all other personnel
were overwhelmed with the deaths which occurred on a daily
basis and no records were kept, detailed or accurate records, I
mean.”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763602

Swamped

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Excerpt

young woman, whom Eteo found pleasant and sociable. She was a
Chinese-Canadian whose parents lived in Coquitlam.
Eteo took Jonathan and drove to a pool hall at Broadway and
Ontario where Jonathan had discovered they had one table of European
billiards, a game at which his uncle was a master.
“Will I ever win against you, uncle?” Jonathan asked after Eteo
had taken the third game in a row.
Eteo laughed. “You will when I let you” he answered, and
Jonathan laughed too. They sipped their lattes and played again and
when they had finished, Eteo drove back to the house just as the
cleaning ladies were putting their things away.
For dinner, Eteo suggested a visit to Mythos, a Greek spot on
Lonsdale where he knew the owner and the boys always enjoyed their
meals. It was a fairly new place, and Angelo had done an expert job
decorating the interior since he was already a partner in another
restaurant on Marine Drive. In the kitchen he had a cook whom Eteo
also knew well, and whose special appetizer of mussels was what Eteo
liked the most about the place.
Angelo’s sister, who worked as the hostess, took them to their
table. They were all hungry and fell like vultures on their appetizers
of humus, calamari, and pitta bread as soon as they came. By the time
the main courses arrived, they were almost full, but that only meant
they had plenty to take home at the end of the evening.
Early next morning, with the clock on the night table reading
4:00, Eteo still tossed and turned in bed, unable to go to sleep, his
mind racing through a myriad of thoughts like a crazy monkey on a
big tamarind tree jumping from branch to branch as if in desperate
search for something hidden there. The bedroom was a little too
warm, and his breathing was as loud and irregular as his thoughts.
He often planned his next day while awake in his bed the night
before, so this morning wasn’t any different from others. Fully awake
now, Eteo let his eyes travel around the walls. The window was still
very dark at this time in the morning. Light would come no earlier
than seven, but he felt the need to talk to someone. Who would be
there for him to call and talk right now? The sounds of the house
were regular and steady.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08WP3LMPX

Ubermensch

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Witness

And what about our sins?

Darkness in the sky wouldn’t bother with our

sins or pleas, insignificant supplicants that we

were, the fear and anguish rested on tired shoulders

like sparrows on the branches of the plaza tree

and the man with his crutches laughed at the cafe

patrons before he lifted his left arm as if to shoot

someone or to reprimand their pitiful lamentation.

Owl, witness of ancient images, flew away with

its wisdom, man hit his shadow with his crutch

and yelled, ‘I’m good, I’m pure, I’m clean like

my shadow, I’m pure like my shadow,

I’m Übermensch!’

I like those who sacrifice themselves on earth which

might become the motherland of the Übermensch.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BGFRGLVH

Jazz with Ella

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Excerpt

“Wow!” She applauded wildly when he finished. But he didn’t stop. Ernesto left for a few moments then reappeared quietly with an enormous, half-empty box of chocolates wrapped in brown paper which he offered to her. They were old, mottled with discolouration, probably kept for his infrequent visitors, but she took one and thanked him. He left again hurriedly and this time returned with a saxophone. She settled back to listen again, a Duke Ellington number that she recognized as “C Jam Blues.” Ernesto stepped in for a few riffs on the sax then put the instrument down to take up a chair beside Jennifer and listen to Volodya play. Although he appeared to be studying the keys as he played, she felt him look up every so often, gauging her reaction. Was that simply a performer who loved an audience? Or something deeper, more demanding? She wasn’t sure and felt a slight shiver.
“Are you cold?” Ernesto leaned over to her and offered another chocolate. “Even in summer this room is cool.” Volodya ignored them and continued to play.
“No, thank you. It’s a wonderful room. It was once so elegant, I think.”
“It was the formal dining room for the house when the bourgeoisie lived here. You see how this wall cuts off the rest of the room? When it was whole, the dining room took up 30 square meters of floor space—all for one wealthy family.”
“And was the piano here then, too?” she asked. “It looks old.” Now, she noticed how the black lustre had worn down to a scuff in many places, how the legs were chipped. “You must be the one who keeps it in tune?”
“Yes, I take care of it. It’s also pre-revolutionary.” Here, Ernesto smiled with pride. He might dismiss the ostentatious living quarters of the wealthy, but he obviously cherished their toys. “It’s why I can’t leave the apartment. I won’t leave without it and we can’t fit it through this door.” He laughed out loud and Volodya glanced up and smiled.
“So it sat here all during the revolution and the siege of Leningrad and everything?” she asked. “I’m surprised someone didn’t burn it for firewood during those terrible winters.”
“Someone loved this piano—dearly,” Ernesto replied, then he added sheepishly, “and you know I only let those play who also love the piano. Vlad is a flashy scoundrel, but he loves to play.”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246

Water in the Wilderness

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Excerpt

Rachael didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. She had been excited to come here today when Uncle Morley and Auntie Tyne had brought them. But now she wished she could be back in the bedroom on the farm, the one she had shared with Bobby.
She lay in bed, staring at the light reflected on the ceiling from the street lamp on the corner of the avenue where Auntie Ruby lived. The soft snores of her two cousins kept her wakeful, but that was better than having them fight over who would sleep on which side of the lumpy mattress, and playfully, or so she hoped, try to push her out of bed.
Rachael had never shared a bed with anyone before, not even when she lived at Auntie Tyne’s house. Now she had to sleep with two squirmy girls who seemed no happier to share their bed with her than she was with them. Six-year-old Lark had not been so mean, but her older sister, Lyssa, had been especially nasty.
Rachael didn’t know what she had done to make Lyssa mad. When they used to visit each other’s homes, they had usually got along. Did Lyssa think her cousin was going to take something that didn’t belong to her? Rachael would never do such a thing – her mom had taught her and Bobby never to touch anyone else’s property.
Well, she hadn’t, and she wouldn’t, and she hoped Lyssa would be nicer tomorrow. Rachael thought of her new clothes that she had so…

https://www.amazon.com/dp/192676319X