Sonogram

I am no one and every one you've ever known
and never knew.
A common old sallow, clinging like dust on a shelf
Ancient dry bones hanging in secret windows
Softly clicking against the nape of the rising wind

b

By Me

December 13, 2010

 

December 3, 186- brite and fair. went to church today. Me and Pewt and
Beany go to the Unitarial church. we all joined sunday school to get
into the Crismas festerval. they have it in the town hall and have two
trees and supper and presents for the scholars. so we are going to stay
til after crismas anyway the unitarials have jest built a new church.
Pewt and Beany's fathers painted it and so they go there. i don't
know why we go there xcept because they don't have any church in the
afternoon. Nipper Brown and Micky Gould go there. we all went into
the same class. our teacher is Mister Winsor a student. we call them
stewdcats. after we had said our lesson we all skinned out with Mr.
Winsor. when we went down Maple street we saw 2 roosters fiting in
Dany Wingates yard, and we stoped to see it. i knew more about fiting
roosters than any of the fellers, because me and Ed Towle had fit
roosters lots. Mr. Winsor said i was a sport, well while the roosters
were fiting, sunday school let out and he skipped acros the street and
walked off with one of the girls and we hollered for him to come and see
the fite out, and he turned red and looked mad. the leghorn squorked and
stuck his head into a corner. when a rooster squorks he wont fite any
more.
Henry A. Shute

THE REAL DIARY OF A REAL BOY

By Henry A. Shute
INTRODUCTION

In the winter of 1901-02, while rummaging an old closet in the
shed-chamber of my father's house, I unearthed a salt-box which had been
equipped with leather hinges at the expense of considerable ingenuity,
and at a very remote period. In addition to this, a hasp of the same
material, firmly fastened by carpet-tacks and a catch of bent wire, bade
defiance to burglars, midnight marauders, and safe-breakers.

With the aid of a tack-hammer the combination was readily solved, and an
eager examination of the contents of the box disclosed:—

1. Fish-line of braided shoemaker's thread, with perch hook, to
     which adhered the mummied remains of a worm that lived and
     flourished many, many years ago.

  2. Popgun of pith elder and hoop-skirt wire.

  3. Horse-chestnut bolas, calculated to revolve in opposite
     directions with great velocity, by an up-and-down motion of the
     holder's wrist; also extensively used for the adornment of
     telegraph-wires,—there were no telephones in those days,—and
     the cause of great profanity amongst linemen.

  4. More fish-hooks of the ring variety, now obsolete.

  5. One blood alley, two chinees, a parti-colored glass agate,
     three pewees, and unnumbered drab-colored marbles.

  6. Small bow of whalebone, with two arrows.

  7. Six-inch bean-blower, for school use—a weapon of considerable
     range and great precision when used with judgment behind a
     Guyot's Common School Geography.

  8. Unexpended ammunition for same, consisting of putty pellets.

  9. Frog's hind leg, extra dry.

  10. Wing of bluejay, very ditto.

  11. Letter from "Beany," postmarked "Biddeford, Me." and expressing
      great indignation because "Pewt" "hasent wrote."

  12. Copy-book inscribed "Diry."

  The examination of this copy-book lasted the rest of the day, and it was
  read with the peculiar pleasure one experiences in reviewing some of the
  events of a happy boyhood.

  With the earnest hope that others may experience a little of the
  pleasure I gained from the reading, I submit the "Diry" to the public.

  HENRY A. SHUTE.

  EXETER, N. H. Sept. 23, 1902.
DIRY

---

Greens and browns are the grasses
Tops waving good bye and fare well
Breezes humming whispers lights flickered
From the grounded earthy loam
Freshening breaking scattering sounding
Blue skies of whales- Whitely hot and feathers
Twinkling of an eye ever so rarely
Lashing here for there

b

"We should be careful
of each other, we should be kind
While there is still time".

Larkin...The mower.

By Me

November 29, 2010
 

An adolescence rhyme

When I travel ... bethink about me ... then I will have no longer be stunned so strong thirst ... think spoilt the next morning
the helplessness ... Where it is, what next?
Not close! It is far away, the future, where it is worth living.

 

 

 oldviolin wrote: 

SOON! I thank you so much!

 frank-peter wrote: 
I would like to see you post more. It matters.

 oldviolin wrote: 

You are my best friend here! Immediately after the boss!

 frank-peter wrote: 
I am not Mister Limpet, but I can swim with the torpedoes...

 oldviolin wrote: 

I am not Charles Bukowski! But I venerate him!

 frank-peter wrote: 
Prosit!

 oldviolin wrote: 
From "Grafenwalder Gold" (What I just drink)

 frank-peter wrote:  
That website scares me.

 frank-peter wrote: 
nice phrasing. Yours?