1) Darrow had a different opinion of Lady Bushwood.
She said it's not as easy to measure up a woman like it is to measure up a man.
She said, men are more basic. Especially the men who think their not basic. Those are definitely basic.
2) Men are like tapoles. They are not yet what they’re meant to be.
She definitely has me pegged.
God only knows what I’m mean to be.
Darrow had only delivered groceries out to Lady’s lake cabin a couple of times.
They sat and talked for hours one afternoon. Only one.
3) Darrow told me that Lady had a good life, a full life.
That yes she had at times in her life struggled.
Yet Darrow said she can't imagine being that stand up, that strong, holding up like that with all that history leaning on you.
I had no idea that Lady had children.
4) She outlived her daughter.
The cancer got her. The cancer gets people. It's hard to put that somewhere for me.
Lady Bushwood a mother losing her daughter to the cancer that's scorched earth terrain right there.
That's something that’s never ok.
5) No matter how crazy I thought she was.
Cancer beats crazy everytime.
Her daughters name was Herc.
Short for Hercules.
That tells you everything about Lady right there.
And how life can sometimes have no sense of humor.
Jack, that was her sons name.
6) Darrow told me he left her when he was finished being homeschooled by her. Just picked up and gone.
This Jack left when he was finished with it. Not when Lady was finished with it.
No one heard from him again.
Gone.
7) I asked Darrow who their father was. Where had he been.
Darrow looked at me and couldn't hold back a bout of laughter.
She then looked at me hard and said.
Bunky boy, don't you know?
8) She knew I didn't.
She laughed again and said figure it out Bunky.
I hated when she called me Bunky.
Wish that name would of never stuck.
• • •
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1) These women, these
mothers, these people.
My fellow men,
Chuck your pen, your paper and your archaic principles.
Are you afraid to bow down and relinquish control to those whom birth our population.
As if they can not make a choice.
2) In her life and in the carry give way to her.
Your archaic grip means nothing to these women.
She has always been the giver.
And it has never in no part been a shared responsibility.
3) The male simply put does not bare rights over those who bare life.
He pretends some kind of righteousness, but oh if the tables were turned.
See the many women who have stepped forward from behind the abundance of fraudulent stances taken by her opposite sex.
1)The 1960’s Mother ground down with lies from the other. Unsupported by the limp society of times.
She was left alone, with three children in tow.
Curse the reality of that time.
This woman accomplished greatness.
Two jobs brought bulged veins which colored her young legs blue.
2)She did not let it cripple her.
She cricled life with female comrades and built upon that.
This woman with no formal education protected her children as she did her self worth.
She danced with her offspring to teach them how life can move if you take it on...
3) Drawn by the muffled keening like sounds in the night. I watched her through the door I cracked.
This woman, her face into her pillow unaware that her sobbing was sent through the house and invited itself into my room.
Now there my mother.
Now there was I..
1) Holy shit I'm fucking useless.
What will i do about my art?
I say to myself.
How can I possibly express my myself better?
Can i?
2) I dramatically say to myself, will I die not knowing the answer to this question?
Should I pretend as others do that they do not question their authenticity?
I tell myself this daily.
3) How in the hell can I handle my next attempt at doing my job better, the next piece better,
the next story?
Will I service that story correctly?
Can I do that in a way that is somewhat original?
1) To my old friends on the Force:
Listen please;
Police shoving a senior citizen to the ground for doing nothing while he was in a peaceful protest about police killing a handcuffed black man who was not resisting arrest.
2) This African American surrounded by three other officers who could hear this black man, our brother, your brother plead for his life.
And they do nothing, these peace makers, these who serve the people.
3) To all of you good Men and Women of the police force from all across our country whom so many I have met and spent time with.
1) As a young New Yorker, when I became part of the work force, driving trucks for delivery, labor, , cleaning crew, bussing tables, security at bars and restaurants and such.
I worked mostly with immigrants on most of those jobs.
2) I could name them by name, the folks I remember getting to know, however the list would be too long.
These people have always been the core of the work force in NYC and so many more cities in our country.
Today they are the courageous ones.
3) As I go out of the house for essentials all I see are these same faces covered by masks with their gloved hands working out there to earn a living in spite of the danger for them and their families.
1) TEARCATCHER
Journal: I was thinking about the way I look today for a long time, maybe too long. I was out and about by the pond in the park. I was thinking about how people perceive me, how people see me.
2) I know that they use their eyeballs to see me, but I thought today I’d take the question a bit further, a bit deeper.
I thought I’d just take a while and think about what more is there past the eyeball and eyeball socket and stuff.
3) What do people really see when they look at me with their eyeballs resting in their eye sockets?Do they see the real me? The pretty one; Vincent, the pretty one?