the bell has been rung

someone dear...someone close
rang it right in the middle
of my reverie

not small that
shivering down my back
like a huge nippled gong

placed above my bed
and slammed with a
one hundred pound sledge

my body gripped in the fear
of  an eight point
rolling quake

waiting for the earth
no...praying for the earth
to swallow me and set me free

the echo of the gong
chases the tumble weeds
around my mind

returning over and over
like a ball thumping
inside my soul

I write a word...thump
it will not
set me free

it follows me like
father kicking a young son
in the ass

after a small stupid sin
or a mother
flicking a child's leg

with a willow switch
for not obeying a
parental command

I walk in fear
of the boot or the switch
but the gong

is what echoes
in my mind
vibrating my brain

leaving my fingers
craving for direction
they try a word...



Everyone knows what a BLT is. In fact, BLT is acceptable to my spell checker.

BMO is not so popular. My spell checker says "Blah...throw it out."

Or maybe, "you're not really serious." That's what my wife said the first time I explained it to her.

Now she says, "Blah...throw it out."

BMO is a simple recipe that comes down from the pioneers. Pioneers had a simple philosophy about food. "If your hungry you better eat"...anything you can...forage...grow or kill.

"KILL"..."Oh my're not going to eat that poor bunny rabbit?"

"Yep, I going to knock it in the it...cut it up...fry it...and by it"

"That's cruel!"

"No, what is cruel is me starving to death...It's either me or the rabbit...or the chicken...or the deer..."

Here's a great recipe...rice and ketchup...don't groan...well go ahead and groan but my grandmother said that they lived on rice and ketchup for a whole month...when times were tough.

It's not that long ago when food was sort of a "do it your self project"...when donuts were "dunkers"
and the bacon on the table was slaughtered and butchered in the shed or barn.

The chicken on the table was walking around looking for food in the morning and frying in the pan for dinner. The veggies were still in the garden until mom said to the child, "I need some corn or potatoes or tomatoes."

Or maybe the veggies were in the root cellar where they were stored for the winter. The dinner was in the "root cellar" or the "pork barrel" or maybe just fresh from the cow.

They "Churned the butter"..."Separated the milk"... they worked for the food they had and prayed for easier days. They prayed for the days that life would be easier and they would have some time to relax.

I doubt that they prayed for the fast food and the processed food we are killing ourselves with today.

"Well I'm off to "Mickey D's" to get my coffee and breakfast.

And...A "BMO" is Bread...Milk...and dad's favorite treat...if he was out of milk...a bread and onion sandwich would do just fine...

Try it may enjoy it...but use the red onions...they go better with the bread and milk...

/   /   /
                                                                               "chef-R-not-me"..Old Grizz

some thoughts on food for "mindlovemisery"...I'm always assigned the misery part...

I lost my mind a few years back...

and...I'll never tell my secrets about love...besides love is a learning experience...a sort of do it yourself project...well one of my secrets...practice...practice...practice...

also...Sunday Scribblings - "Enjoy"