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Ha!! Me, too…

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Abelard and Heloise activism Americana animals Anne Boleyn astrolabe astronomy baseball writing battle beauty belief bibliophilia biology books botany California cartography cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology cinema civility coffee comedy comfort communication confections corsets crime criminal behavior dance death desserts destruction deviance digital art digital photography divinity domestic violence drawing ecology education electoral process English epicuriosity epidemeology Europe fairy tales family fashion fauna feminism festivities fiction film food forensics fucking funerals furniture geneology geography girl stuff good reads government government and a lack thereof gratitude Halloween happiness health Hell history holidays human behavior iconography Jazz journalism kindness kinetics Lent life literature local color love poetry medicine mindfulness mortuary sciences mourning muse museums Music mythology nature non-fiction Ohio ornithology painting pandemics papyrus parenthood parenting Paris performance photography physics poetic theory politics pop culture produce psychology public broadcasting publishing punk puppies reading red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies relationships religious studies reproductive rights rituals romance science science writing seasons self-care self-love sex sexism sexuality shitty shit shooting stars Short Stories slang society sociology sociopathology Southern Gothic Southern Living suicide technology thanatology the arts The British Royal Crown theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice war waste weddings women words writing

Poof* Take MY water

https://youtu.be/eg2Kw1jIXOw

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activism Americana analysis art baseball writing battle behavior belief cemeteries childhood chronology civility comfort corsets crime criminal behavior dance death destruction deviance divinity ecology education electoral process Europe fairy tales family feminism fiction fucking furniture geneology geography government government and a lack thereof happiness Hell history horror human behavior humanity humor iconography journalism Kentucky kindness kinetics literature local color love medicine mortuary science mourning muse museums Music mythology nature nightmares non-fiction Ohio ornithology painting pandemics papyrus parenthood Paris performance physics poetry politics pop culture psychology

of thee I sing

the true measure

of a civilized society

are the rumors

told by its ghosts

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Americana art books comfort family food furniture happiness history holidays life love muse Ohio painting parenthood poetry psychology rituals sex traditions Uncategorized war weddings writing

this house has a history

 

i put on some water for tea

then decided to mop the floors

of our new little nest

before the furniture gets carried in

before the rest of our lives happen

Murphy’s Oil Soap

water and sunshine into a bucket

carried through the echoing emptiness

of what will be

over original hardwood

placed there in 1941

i love to clean

the ritual of it

i write in my thoughts as i work

images painting themselves

into spaces around my gentle humming

spreading wet across the grain

seeing hands that mopped this floor

before me

wives husbands

fathers mothers

lovers and

put-upon teenagers

oh this house

has a history

built the year

the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor

it’s all still there

nailed down memories

layers of time entombed in wax

someone stood in that living room and heard

we dropped the bomb

we landed at Normandy

of a flag raised in Iwo-Jima

Kennedy was dead

Vietnam was a lost cause only good

for folded flags being handed to weeping mothers

Nixon was a crook

Reagan and John Lennon had been shot

the Berlin wall had fallen

i heard first steps

crying babies

crying widows

joyous laughter

say cheese

wine glasses clinking together

realizing with a smile

this floor is mine

the foundation of a family

and i will love it

then

the teapot

began to whistle

 

 

 

 

 

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addiction Americana art behavior furniture happiness history poetry

fuck you, literature

i am free

because

a french man

loves me

Categories
furniture iconography museums poetry

The Good Works of Gustav Stickley

the Stickley brothers

five humble boys

from Osceola, Wisconsin

began making furniture

at a factory belonging to their uncle

in Brandt, Pennsylvania, 1877

.

the existing works of

Gustav, Albert, Charles, Leopold,

and John George

are honored today in museums

around the world

for their enduring American

simplicity

unsurpassed quality

and utilitarian charm

.

there exists a Gustav Stickley sideboard

at the Cincinnati Art Museum

which once resided inside

The White House

in the early twentieth century

.

one is never to touch

anything in a museum

everyone knows this

.

but the docent was drowsy

.

unable to keep his eyes fixed

on my circular pitter pat

through the presidential gallery

.

the magical black

marvelous mahogany piece

featured

a most alluring

perfect

brass lock

.

eyeing the invitation

for the longest moment

.

i could not resist

sticking my finger

inside the keyhole

of the Stickley

smiling gloriously

at my wicked little sin

.