Dont Take The Girl

Word count: 875

Don't Take the Girl


"Johnny's daddy was takin' him fishin' when he was eight years old."

Dylan bragged about how he and his daddy went fishing all the time. Carrie was seven and Dylan was eight when they met.Tim McGraw's song "Don't Take the Girl" came on, and Carrie said, "My Daddy loves this song, so I love it too."

The mantra of Dylan's mom was always "Boy, what have you been into now? " She would tell people, "These two come home with frogs in their pockets...or snakes...or whatever slimy crawling things were collected while on the latest fishing trip."


Carrie's dad came to work for Dylan's family: Bike shop...restored classics. Radio was always on, playing what Dylan called "Texas music". Carrie had been that little girl with a fishing pole running out to the gate. There was the incident with the sling shot when Dylan blamed the dog. In Junior high
there had been basketball in each other's driveways, the time Carrie wanted to see if their turtles would race, face painting at
the fair, water gun fights; the countless nights they would sneak in each ot
her's windows and try to be back by dawn.

In high school there was the false alarm she didn't tell her parents about. It was negative. "Blue" was playing in the waiting room. "Leanne Rimes does NOT sound like Patsy Cline," Carrie said as she left the office.

"Same ol' boy, same sweet girl...ten years down the road."
He held her tight and kissed her lips in front of the picture show".

And the two of them would go out to the drive in and come home way too late. Dylan's dad was teaching him the business and in the shop, Dylan's Texas music always played:. George Strait had ocean front property in Arizona, Trisha Yearwood was in love with the boy, and Reba MacIntyre was wondering if
there's a life out there beyond her own.

There was the heartache that came when Carrie's mom said "Honey, maybe you should date other people. Are you sure he's the one you want?". That night, Dylan picked her up at another guy's party,grabbing her keys as she stumbled "Don't you throw up in my truck, girl!"the two were engaged the next week. He took her out on the lake to their favorite fishing spot; bottle of champagne. He
popped the question as the sun set, rippling on the water. She took his hand: "My daddy loves this song...so Ilove it too," she said. And he knew...that was a "Yes."

"Same ol' boy, same sweet girl...five years down the road... There's gonna be a little one and she says it's time to go"...

He found her on her knees by the living room chair. "Somethings wrong," she said; telling him she was dizzy. They knew nothing about pre-eclampsia, or it's dangers, only that they needed to get there! After much anxiety, their little prince arrived. Both he and mom pulled through. "Don't Take the Girl" played over the radio in the room.


With the second baby, in the humid Arkansas summer, Dylan was constantly fixing their air conditioning. This was cheaper than paying a repairman. And then it would break… again. So in between mopping her forehead with a wet cloth, Carrie would put in cds:

"Alright! I love that song," Dylan would say...the clank of tools in the background.
"Babe! Come here, feel," Carrie would exclaim in the middle of the night. "I think he's doing somersaults in there! Radio would
be on. "Desperado" would play. Maybe "Lyin Eyes" by The Eagles.


This foundation had been laid for her psychiatrist, because he new Dylan had been deployed to an undisclosed location.
Carrie was alone now with the boys, nine and six… She'd used earbuds in sleep to block out her husband's noring. But for months now, they had only been filling the space between bedtime and morning; barricading her fear.

Day after day she lugged her saw, a bucket, a
homemade fishing pole, and bait across the frozen lake. Once there, she sat shivering, waiting for the telltale tug.. This torturous task wasnt for the fairer sex, but what choice did she have? On that particular day, as clouds rolled in from the mountains, she noticed two little boys at the edge of the lake, shouting and pointing...

Suddenly, all the ice split and cracked, revealing the water nderneath. Carrie screamed, fearing she would drown. But
sddenly became aware that around her was a
sheet...blankets, pillows. She felt the warmth of her bed and began to catch her breath. Her ipod still playing...stuck on
"repeat".

" Johnny hit his knees, and there he prayed: 'Take the very breath you gave me. Take the heart from my chest. I'll gladly take her place if you'll let me….Take me outta this
world. God please! Don't take the girl."


Carrie wiped tears from her eyes. She heard shouting outside. She rushed to her bedroom window to see her two boys pointing at someone walking up the driveway. It was then she noticed his uniform and duffle bag. The boys were shouting

"Dad! Dad!"

"Dylan!! Is that you??"

(C) 2020.

Kneeling With the Runt at the Wailing Wall

Is there wax covering my soul?

If so, I didn't know about it; but suddenly,

It is melting, melting, everywhere!

While everything I care about seems spilled

to the floor as it pours

Like rain from the inside...

Torrents of it!...


The vocals, like a

Chorus of angels sound

Then swell...

Into some sort of divine crescendo

Emotions break and bend against my will

And I cannot stop them


But WHY would I want to?

Why would I want to when this is

All I have ever wanted?

To give everything that's ever haunted

Me permission to surface

Without hurting anybody

All in a three minute song...


How do you DO that??


If I could ask Mr. Todd Rundgren, I would

"Just what have you done to me?"

Your song "Wailing Wall"

Has me falling to pieces again

And again

...Over kneeling down for sadness's sake

And crying just as though her heart would break

(That is, the old maid...)


Then a slight change in lyrics pulls the heart

strings so tight!

It goes from her heart, to their heart,

right? (Who are they)?

HOW does he DO THAT??


Does he mean Jerusalem? THE wall in Israel?

This is the vision I see when I hear the title

But believe what you like

If I could I would ask Mr. Todd Rundgren...

Because whatever the longing unfulfilled, has

Me still listening to his ballad...

About a grand, old maid across the sea

What has she to do with it?

I don't know...


Maybe he's comparing those who care with

Those who think it's all a show:


"You know that I don't listen

And you know that I don't care

But everyday, you'll find me there"

He says.

..."kneeling down for sadness's sake;

Crying just as though (his) heart will break"...


And so, the flower of my heart has burst open

To pour all that is within its' walls and chambers,

Crevices and cracks

And it's not all sad...not just, not only

There is sunshine: Things of wonder...beauty

A G-d given curiosity

That makes me glad to be alive


The way words sound in the mouth

Caterpillars, become butterflies

Glittering stars against a velvet sky, hidden

Under tons of smog...

But they're there! Do you not see them?

*Like the stars of David from Ester's madalion

Spinning in the shadows

Reflected in the flames?

Perhaps this song will help!

And hours later, the song still plays

(even if only in my head).

All of this

Acknowledging the knife-- the one stuck in my soul,

While removing it as well

HOW do you DO that in a three minute song??

If I could ask him, I would; because, if that's

"not caring," somebody goofed! I'm just sayin'!


So Mr. Rundgren...

I gather you're the Runt; is that right?

(As your album is titled?)

Odd question, I know...but you see, you have

Melted WHATEVER

was stifling my soul...in one three minute song!

Believe me, this is no small feat...

With just a piano??

How in the WORLD did you DO that?

I don't know, but right now,

I could kneel while your song plays

And never get up

--CES (C)2016.



Todd Rundgren "Wailing Wall"
Runt: The Ballad of Tood Rundgren
AIMusic (1971).

*"One Night With the King" 20th Century Fox (2006).

Leaving Babylon...

Forgive me...

Excuse me for seeming uninterested, but

I think I'll make my exit now.

The "golden cow" worship of crap on

TV just isn't my cup of tea.


My backwards thought process may be

Something of a hazard,

But I answer to a higher authority...

I spend hours in a cave

On my knees, okay?


Forget reality TV...I don't care!

Facebook? Yeah. ...Just another look at no

Business of mine!

Don't tell me that story please-- that morsel

Of gossip? A delicacy perhaps...

But not to me.

Don't make me an accessory, thank you.


I spend hours in a cave

On my knees, okay?

The voice of Him who created

Calls out to me

In that gentle whisper...

The rest is just the fluff that stuffs

Winnie the Pooh!

Oh well.


I can tell I make you nervous

As you fuss over me--

Please stop.

Everybody's talking to me

at once--I can't process it all.

The backwards thought process ruling me;

There it is! You see?

I must be alone in my cave!

My savior's whisper speaks to me better

Than the fluff that stuffs Winnie the Pooh.


Oh well.

I'll give him a hug...

Anyway, he's in my cave too.

What can I say? He doesn't judge!

Nothing to get lost in translation.


Don't be angry when I don't talk.

Now I'm wondering if you hate me

For making my exit

Sorry. But my savior's voice is calling me.

I must obey.

On my knees in my cave is where I'll be!


But I need a sign that says "Do Not Disturb."

Translation: Do NOT come and find me (please)!

I'm already disturbed enough by the crap on TV

And the gossip.

Another stupid movie??

If it's all the same to you; no thank you.

(Not today, anyway).

Another trip to "Babylon" is too much.


I just want to sit at His feet!

My favorite place to be...and I'll stay

There until you think I am SERIOUSLY disturbed.

My backward thought process something

Of a hazard to you...and all you want

To tell me.


I'm sorry...

I can't learn by osmosis that joke

You want me to get.

Social protocol, I guess...

But I suck at that. I'd rather

See into your soul instead.

And you can't let me.


It's okay. I understand.

But my savior's voice, I must obey...

I'll be in the cave of my room,

Kneeling by the bed.

Anything I can pray for you about?

Enough said.


CES(C)2016.

Humiliated Grapes

I eat you in cereal all the time

Ahh yes! With cold milk!

But you were once juicy and plump

Purple or red? I don't know...

I only saw the death of you

When the sun had dried you out


My, how good you are!

You poor little things all

Shriveled, in a purple box

With sugar on top

All traces of moisture gone

No sweetness of juice

Or tenderness you were blessed

With on the vine


You've been baked with the

Sun's rays...bathed in it's light

For...days? I have no idea how long

I love the humiliation of grapes because

Every crevice and crack is drenched...


Maybe rolled in sticky dough

Cookies, anyone?

All warm and gooey...

The stuffing in turkey has them too,

Steamed with breadcrumbs and celery


With sweet carrots, shredded, a salad

Is divine!

In layers of pastry...oh my! Coffee cake?

Even better!

Oatmeal in the morning is no longer dull.

with them, all shriveled up.

In a Sunmaid box. Maybe your mom packed them

With lunch?

"Humiliated grapes"... Is there a rhyme for

"Raisin"?

I don't know...I just borrowed a line

From "Benny and Joon."




CES (C)2015.

Girl

Is there anybody going to listen to my story
All about the girl who came to stay?

There were bells on a hill
But I never heard them ringing till there she was
Never heard them at alL.
But I would feel two foot small if she left
(Like I couldn't go on)...

The two of us
Sunday driving
Not arriving on our way
Back home.

Spending someone's hard earned pay
Writing letters
Sending the postcards on my wall
Wearing raincoats
Standing solo in the sun

Burning matches...Lifting latches
She came in through the bathroom window
She asked me to stay and she told me
To sit anywhere.
So I looked around and I noticed there
Wasn't a chair.

Lovely Rita meter maid;
Pretty ness selling poppies from a tray
In Penny Lane.
Behind the shelter in the middle of the round-about

Did anybody tell her?
Did anybody see that I gotta get a
Belly fulla wine to tell
Her I love her?

See you on the Blue-Jay Way!
I read the news today...oh boy!
Woke up, fell outta bed
Dragged a comb across my head;
But please don't wake me, no!
Don't shake me...leave me where I am
I'm only sleeping.

Dreamin' of bein' a rich man baby!
I'll keep all my money in a big brown bag
Inside the flew, with nothin' to do because
Ob la di, ob la da...life goes on!
She can be Molly...singing in the band
While the children lend a hand at home and
run around in the yard.

With children at your feet, wonder how you
Manage to make ends meet.
And I need a job, so I wanna be a paperback writer.
"Dear sir or Madam, can you read my book?"

But will you still need me, will you still feed me
when I'm sixty-four...bang bang, Maxwell's silver hammer
Fixing a hole where the rain get's in, filling the
Crack that ran through the door, stopping my mind from
Wondering where it will go.

Will you still be sending me valentines?
Birthday greetings? Bottles of wine?
When I'm sixty-four?
Someday when we're dreaming, deep in
Love, not a lot to say; then we will remember
Things we said today, I hope.

Go ahead...get it wrong and think that you're alright!
I don't mind 'cause you are! (alright).
I look at the floor, and I see it needs sweeping
While my guitar gently weeps, and I'm dreamin'
Again of you and me
Let me take you down to strawberry fields.
Nothing is real...nothing to get hung about...

Tangerine trees, marmalade skies
Boat on a river, kaleidoscope eyes
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green, towering
Over your head.
I'll look for the girl with the sun in her eyes...
That would be you.

No "Rocky Raccoon" here... where his woman runs off
With another guy.
"Hit young Rocky in the eye
Rocky didn't like that
He said 'I'm gonna get that boy!'"

He checks in and finds the Bible
Did he read that the word is love?
We did, didn't we?
We looked through the pages
And found that the word is love
And I love you.

I'm comin' down fast when I
get to the top of the slide
Dreamin' of you
I'm looking through you
Where did you go?

There were bells on a hill
But I never heard them ringing
Never heard them at all
Till there you were.
And here I stand head in hand
Face turned to the wall
I would feel two foot small
If you left...
But I gotta get a a belly fulla
Wine to tell you.

Did anybody tell her?...

--CES (C)2014.

Christopher... Robin

They were both friends from another star:
One from Krypton, one from Ork.
Both made it to Julliard.
What a pair!
One with dyed black hair,
One with an egg... whatever
That was.
Both of them in red:
One in cape and boots,
One in full body suit.

Both versatile actors typecast
Characters from fiction.
Popeye and Superman...
Cartoons who became real guys
Thanks to them.
Underneath, a serious side.
One was John Keating, teaching his
Students to seize the day.
The other, Jack Lewis, American
Diplomat, proposing a toast to
"Professional politicians."

They were both in a fairytale...
One posing as the squire who really was a prince;
The other, a feisty frog, waiting to be kissed.
Both for Shelley Duvall.

One a comedic genius, with antics
that went on and on.
One, six foot two, and full of boyish charm
(Which we always loved).
Both of them willing to fight for the cause,
Always.
For Chris, it was an irony: helmets, and safety
Playing sports.
For Robin, comic relief for those left homeless.
For each (ask anyone they knew), they were always
Willing to help.

Sadly, both Chrisopher and Robin
Had lives too short.
Chrisopher first:
Memorial Day weekend of '95...
No one knows why his horse just
Stopped, but it did...and Chris was thrown off.
He lived...
Longer with his injuries than most.
And Robin was his first sign of hope.
(So Chris said).
Clad in blue scrubs like the doctor
from "Nine Months,"
He came to his bedside!
Robin made Chris laugh!

But an in infection undetected took his life.
This was nine years later.
If anyone could walk again, it was Superman,
Right?
So the tears flowed when such hope was crushed.

Both were on the Actor's Studio.
Chris was behind a screen that raised up;
Paralysis preventing a walk on the stage.
And Robin?
Well...
There were pauses and fade-out's.
There wasn't time, I suppose!
Tangents of some sort were edited;
Songs, dances, raps...characters composed
In his head.
"Guest appearances" all impersonated...
Spontaneous.

So, a couple of days ago,
I tweeted: "Goodbye Mork."
I thought it was a hoax at first
But it was true!
An apparent suicide!
I emailed friends with the subject:
"Nannu, nannu.
How coould this have happened??

Popeye was dead, and Mrs. Doubtfire too,
And the quirky Russian doctor:
"It's a boy...unless I cut the wrong cord!"
A great light has burned out after it shone for so many,
That is all I know. Actually, two.
Two college buddies: Robin Wiliams and Christopher Reeve,
both gone too soon, as is clear from the sound bytes
All over the news.

Both men wanted to act, and they did, and the two
Friends also made a pact together:
Whichever of them made it big first, would care for
The other, and always protect.
So it was said...early 70's I think.
Long before "Mork and Mindy," or the
Man in the red cape; before "Dead Poet's Society,"
and "The Remains of the Day."
It was before "Somewhere in Time," or "The World According to Garp";
Before "Street Smart," or "Noises Off."

This was before "Comic Relief."

Two friends just looking out for each other.

"Robin was always one of dad's dearest friends," Reeve's family said.
And Robin said of Chris: "I miss you, and may flights of angels sing thee
To thy rest, sweet prince."

Who could tell if they are together now?
Only someone who's gone before.
But these friends shared so much!
More than acting. More than tragic deaths.
"unbreakable Bond" said the caption on the news.

Both gone from us now:
The man in the red cape went first; the comic
Genius followed.
Both heroes for those who needed a hand or
A laugh...even when they needed one themselves.


Thank you Christopher... Robin.


--CES Copyright 2014.

A Trinket

I wish I had something of yours...

A church bulletin maybe.

A hat left on a chair.

A shirt with your scent.

A something representing all our comings and goings.

A forever reminder of sitting by you...

Never daring to tell you to kiss me.

Just one picture!

I'd pull it out and hold it

Close.

Like I want you to hold me.

I know you won't--

But the energy won't leave.

But look at the camera please.!

I've seen your side profile.

That says "I hate pictures of me!"

No no, don't give me that!

Give me your eyes that let me see

Into your soul.

I'm not allowed here, I know.

You whisper to others around me

When you don't want me to know...

Whatever you said.

I'd keep the picture by my bed and

Kiss that.

No one would know.


I wish I had something of yours.

A list you made.

A keychain dropped in the parking lot.

A jacket forgotten in the sanctuary.

Wow. Would I turn it in so you could

have it back? Probably.

I'm an honest girl.

But I'd rather wear it!

Pretend you're wrapped around me

In a never ending hug

Like I'd wanted all the time.

"I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine"

I could write this down...shove it in my pocket...

And pull it out when I think of you.

(I may as well just hold it in my hand).

Trouble is, it's a lie.


That picture of you could go in a locket...

But what if...someone asked to see inside?

Good. Wouldn't need to hide it!


I can do anything...except the one thing I want:

To show my affections for you.

Lord knows it's not easy to cork them so they

Don't overflow...

Or shoot straight up and out!

He values a heart that is broken...contrite.

Perhaps it is achieved when the words I might say

are silenced.

What I had hoped for cannot be;

And so, I wish I had something of yours.

I'd hold it up to my face and imagine you're kissing

Me.

No obsessed fantasy here (Though some may think otherwise).

Just a... trinket, I guess...to lift the disguise...

(If only for a moment).

Let me feel that you are a part of me...see it in my hand.

Sort of like... "Camille":

Armand finds Margurite's glove, dropped on the floor.

He holds it close until he sees her again.

But you would not get yours back...

I'm keeping it my love.

Whatever happens after that, I can remember that I tried.

To walk away. To give you space, while you were in the same

Place I was.

What I wanted cannot be, so, I wish I had something

Of yours.

Ridiculous that I stroke your ego while you do nothing for me.

I know.

But getting angry and telling you where to go just breaks my heart.

That's been done already anyway... what's the point?

I want to hold you close and cannot; so

I wish I had something of yours.


--CES (C)Copyright 2014.