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A Note of Appreciation

A Note of Appreciation By Teak Kilmer     West Eagle Lake Drive, Maple Grove, MN, summer, 1987… rural mail boxes about 400 feet from my girlfriend’s townhouse … door bell rings; mail man: “Hi, I thought you’d like to know. There’s no stamp on this envelope. Wouldn’t want it to be late for someone’s birthday or something, so I rang the bell.” “Wow,” I replied, “thanks. I’ll go get a stamp.”  We introduced ourselves when I returned and did our ‘good byes.’   I then reflected that he had (for a time-harried mailman) gone considerably out of his way and ultimately took time from his own personal life; I wondered how often he might be so generous. I wondered if he has been appreciated.  I, with nephews’ crayons doodled some crude art and wrote thank you sentiments – acknowledged his kindness and sacrifice (especially for someone he had never met) and left it in the mail box.   When we retrieved the post two days later, there was an unstamped envelope with my name on it.  The note inside rea

Summer, 1946

                                                                             Summer, 1946                                                                                                               May 11, 2007                                                                                                                 By Teak Kilmer                                                                                                                        Summer, 1946 … I don’t know exactly when it started. My childhood was so compressed with trauma that such distant memories refuse the recollection; but I think I was about six when the dream began.   The narrow bed was next to the outer wall, an open window at my feet and another near my head, summer fragrant breezes hoping to nudge the day’s miseries out of mind; but the task was Sisaphysisian, and so the nightmare  – nightly.   Mostly I could not even nod-off for fear of yet another visit amid my sleep. It was to last f

Ode to the Fart: Or…to Air Is Human

  Ode to the Fart: Or…to Air Is Human   A similar sound to squeezing the mustard comes the fart ─ but a lower chakra shout ─ apparently just dying to get out.   Farting may offend the masses but all do it who have asses.

More jokes and stuff

  More Jokes and Stuff   I was with my sister Elizabeth and my wife JoAnn at a cabin in Big Lake, MN.   I came back from an early morning canoe trip where I was snuggling up with to some loons, and I entered a cabin and JoAnn, and Elizabeth were both screaming.   I said, “what’s wrong?”   They said, “there’s a dead mouse in the dish water.” I replied, “I suppose you want me to rescue you from this mousewash?”     Since there appears by a science and Zen that there is no time, I think someone should start a magazine called There is no Time magazine.   I like to call Deepak Chopra deeppockets shopper.   ─Spiritually, emotionally and lifestyle wise he is indeed a deeppockets shopper. ─     I was taking a class one day regarding mental health and on a break, I engaged the instructor in conservation and asked her what kinds of music she likes?   And she replied, “oh, country.”   So, I said, “oh which country?”   I was faced with a blank look and a long pause, and then she sa

Minnesota Seasons

  MINNESOTA SEASONS By Teak Kilmer     Spring   Sprang   Sprung I’m glad I have a lung. The nose too is convenient, As in Spring’s air I swoon obedient.   Summer   Wummer   Woo The air’s too hot to moo. But if I go soak my head I might not fall down dead.   Fall   Faller   Fallest Trees vie to see who’s baldest. Birds…take a powder For Louisiana chowder.   Winter   Wander   Wonder Ya gotta wonder did God blunder, But “no”, says he, Mr. G “Winter’s to be grateful for the other three”.                

CLEVERISMS, OBSERVATIONS, APHORISMS, AND AMERICANS TALKING NONSENSE

    CLEVERISMS, OBSERVATIONS, APHORISMS, AND AMERICANS TALKING NONSENSE   My wife and I like to hang out at home, so I call us “Esther and Lester Nestor”   Usain Bolt was “speedier than a fasting bullet.”   “I will try to do that” is correct, but we say, “I will try and do that” – it is easier to say “and” than to say “to.” The ease of expression and/or laziness and/or lack of awareness, being deliberate are the main causes of the devolution of all languages, but most especially by far, this applies to the English language. Pay close attention as you speak and notice how it is easier to say latter than the former as written above.   Why isn’t increment the opposite of excrement?       Why isn’t within the opposite of without? Which reminds me “Go within or go without” (in other word[s]: meditate! – the exclamation point is mainly meant for me ).   God is not on their side; God is not on our side; God is on the In side! Therein lies our true battle, our missio

Grief's Gift

  GRIEF’S GIFT By Teak Kilmer   A steel tray of magnetized words was passed to each of us at our Cursive Writers Group.   I chose to write a poem using only the words that were on the tray;   Therefore, please read the following notes explaining italicized words previous to reading the poem … “She” is Spirit and my wife Jo Anne. “Language” here refers to thoughts, the busy mind. “… the end” refers to a belief in an end: death. “… little eye” refers to the third eye.   She says: “Find me a dark tear In there’s the pink caress of Heaven Release your grief, Sweet Sugar Moon Laugh tiny, soft and happy rhapsodies   Delicious rivers ever innocent as merry mornings…search… wishing to be you   Touch the peace, the sleep, the dance Touch the singing sea Look home; listen to your work   Find the hero universe; it is at once your ward and will and wild   Be forever in between Language and the end   And so your little eye in choice with me – forever still