Where were you in 1994, August of?

August of '94

my mind was ablaze

Cheap whiskey

wise guy plans

dancers on stage

cover the door

pocket the cover

throw out the trash

into the gutter

Make the collections

feed the sharks

fall deeper into my dark hole

morals shot

this was my night

they lasted for days

rage burning hot

in a consuming blaze

Yeah Dave

I mighta thrown that ashtray too

and the shot gun was too small

so I woulda liked the odds

Amazing how we have grown

into life

but

pawns never become legends

which is what I was

nice write my friend

wow I love the style,

I write very similar prose sometimes.

In 1994 I was hanging out mainly in a biker bar. :) so I can picture this. (Saw some crazy stuff there)

Whoever wrote this did a great job, I like it very much.

Thirty seconds of my voice,

falsetto and happy, then I see

the brown-glass ashtray coming

but I am unmoved

and full of whiskey.

A love poem on the table in a biker bar. Already that first line got my attention.

*Note: I remember those red plastic pretzel baskets :)

Some people asked why the dress, actually most of the women going to these places wore that type of thing, gypsy boho free kind of look, tattoos cotton sundress, long hair, and either sandals or cowboy boots.

Wow! What an interesting story. I can just picture the scene, the clientele, and you managing this unlikely crowd with your poetry. What a riot! What a crowd! Must have been quite the experience. Good writing (as usual). I enjoyed the early read with my coffee. Made me smile...thanks for sharing.

Oh! And, to answer your question, I was busy working and raising my 2 younger sons back then. Wasn't having much fun, but, the rewards came later.

No one can paint a scene as vividly as you, I love these!

In Aug. of '94, I was returning to my husband of 25 years after a 6 month separation, hoping to reconcile and save the marriage. It lasted only 4 more months.

I, too, stumbled backwards into the night air and became a legend as I walked away!

ma

In August 1994, I lived in a small community

my daughter had just turned 13,

that

is a story in itself.

Her brother had just turned 10 and I was slaving my a$$ off waiting on tables while my husband stayed home and played..

that is another story

It was sweet...

It is a blur

It is a bittersweet memory

tinged with regrets

a bit of anger.......

well more than just a bit

and I scrape it off the sole of my shoe

and keep going,

moving forward, never stopping

Why were you wearing a dress?

From 1992 up to present I've just been in existence rather than living the sort of life I would wish for myself, but I think that from 2010 I'll be able to account for every month.

do we love this ↑↑↑ woman or what?

there are many reasons I didn't go to biker bars

and the trigger finger of a friend of mine was one of 'em...he was bound to get you into trouble...no matter, another was a mechanic friend of mine who would routinely challenge about 10 or so bikers to a fight, and this little, scrawny 5'9 mf'er would pile them up and walk away....

.....August 1994...Polo Club Apts. Austin, TX...working for Marriott....easy money, good times (was still a drunk at that particular time)

~~ sober now for [checks calendar] almost 10 years next month

I was at work. It is the white shrimp season at that time and today also. Thirty years of working with shrimp . What a vivid scene in the bikers bar.I want to holler ouch as the astray hits you.

I like the first line.

From life under the pen and to the pen, paths were made of lines like these. How the ink does flow, over the snow white day in August of 1994.

Good Morning!

I think, back in 92, I walked on the dock

working nights,and pretending to

live in the day.

It was the year

I was given two horse heads

on the face of a band of gold,

so whenever

I looked for the time, I was

reminded to whom I paid my dues