MAGPIE/ Prompt #23

                          photo/willow/magpie tales


UNCLE BORIS, WHO WAS GRANDMA LENA'S youngest brother, ran away from home at the age of fourteen and joined the Moscow Circus, first as a sweeper and eventually to become "Fire Eater of the Universe".

He was able to extinguish 55 flaming torches with his mouth in one minute.  "No secret", he said.  No "cold flame", and no substance in his mouth.  Just a very high tolerance to pain.  Even though he "placed himself in an altered state", he still was forever tending to blisters on his lips, tongue and throat. 

He once brought a lawsuit against "The Great Flambino", for libel, when he was accused of lining his mouth with a secret substance that allowed him to endure keeping a lit torch in his mouth for 51 seconds.  Uncle Boris was incensed when the judge dismissed the case after his demonstration, when he tried to "Shoot the Moon", putting out one torch while making the flame jump to another torch. 

Unfortunately the flame jumped to the judges robe and quite a commotion ensued.  A #5 Extinguisher was produced to douse the flames.  It did.  But the case was thrown out.  Uncle Boris left the courtroom shouting that the "King of the Blow Out", didn't need an extinguisher.

Many years later, here in the U.S., I was lucky to have him perform at my Sweet Sixteen party.  Not only did Uncle Boris ignite all the candles at once, but he helped me with my big "Blow Out".


Thanks again to Willow for providing this intriguing magpie prompt..and please do check out the other bloggers responses!

http://www.minblu.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/lynxny

Trick of the Light...

                                                                                                           Punchatz


TRICK OF THE LIGHT

A torch seemed to shine from within,
appeared to erase her years at times
so that each turn of her head
was like a kaleidoscope
breaking into a new arrangement.

She was fond of saying,
"It's a trick of the light".

But it was a charlatan's game she played,
knowing how to change her face.
A rosy bloom appeared
upon her silken cheek,
yet a passing cloud pleated her skin
to a withered age.

She found another like herself,
a face in chiaroscuro.
A bogus youth,
a unicorn,
deceiving with intention,
forever young.


@copyright/all rights reserved/ 2010


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #22

photo/ willow/ magpie tales

WHAT A LIGHT BULB MOMENT that must have been when the bottle of vodka tipped over into the cocktail sauce. I am projecting that the following scenario ensued..

A young apprentice barman by the name of Fernand Petiot was working at The New York Bar, later to become Harry's New York Bar in Paris, one early afternoon, in 1921, chit chatting with Mr. Ernest Hemingway, a good and steady customer.   Trying to grab lunch on the sly, he started to pile some shrimp into a dish when the aforementioned vodka bottle tipped over and filled to overflowing the bowl holding the cocktail sauce.  Instinctively, after grabbing the bottle, he put lips to the dish, sipped the overflow, grabbed a piece of celery, stirred the shrimpless contents, and justifiably shrieked, Eureka!!

After tasting the contents that were passed to him, Mr. Hemingway agreed that this was a bloody good sort of a drink!  Bloody Mary came later, either as an homage to Queen Mary I of England, or to a waitress named Mary who worked at the Bucket of Blood in Chicago.

RECIPE FOR BLOODY MARY FROM THE NEW YORK SCHOOL OF BARTENDING

1 oz. vodka in a highball glass filled with ice.
Fill glass with tomato juice
1 dash celery salt
1 dash black pepper

1 dash Tabasco sauce

2-4 dashes Worcestershire sauce
1/8 tsp. horseradish
Dash of lemon or lime

Shake vigorously (if you use a shaker) or stir lazily.  Garnish with celery stalk.


VARIATIONS:
Bloody Fairy-  Absinthe replaces vodka.
Bloody Geisha-  Sake...
Bloody Margaret-  Gin...
Bloody Dane-  Akvavit...
Bloodless Mary-  Without tomato juice.
etc....

1/2 cup supplies 1/3 of daily dose of lycopene or 8 milligrams per serving.   

A toast to Willow at magpie tales for giving us the opportunity to participate in this Prompt!  Cheers!! 

http://www.minblu.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/lynxny

BEAUTIFUL...

BEING BEAUTIFUL

I liked being beautiful.  I liked having people stare when I walked into a room.  I liked that men fell for me in feverish or stealthy ways.  I spent some time being sure that I knew where the exit was.

I got up one morning, sweat poking out of my pores, and threw the covers away forever.  I remembered, once, hearing my mother and grandmother hushing each other so I wouldn't hear them talk about the "change of life".  What would that be, I wondered.  Turning green?  Growing feathers?

My pheromones no longer woke the dead.  I alternated between a flamenco state of mind, castanets at the ready, as if I could still seduce.  And high diving into icy pools, seeking the cool ritual of renunciation as a holy ceremony.

I was set free.  My hormones jumped out of my body, never to return.  I was emancipated and found my tranquil self.  So glad to rest from cues.  Not being seen, not on view, I got used to it.  Without a bitter taste.

No dye or rouge can pinch my cheek back to its youth and here's a day at last when I put the covers back, make the bed that stays so neat, a hollow at my side filled by the cat.

No sorrow.  This long vacation from passion stirs memories, which may be mine or some I've seen in a movie or two, because I can't tell if that beauty up there is me or some other star. 


@copyright/all rights reserved/ 2010

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MAGPIE/ Prompt #21

                                                         photo/ willow/ magpie tales

BOOM

What the hell was that?

Just a blast, don't worry...

Sounds like the big mushroom to me..

Then cover your eyes, don't look at the horizon.

The horizon just moved, it's up in the air right now...

There goes the rapture, some one's floating on by.

Boom!!

Stop saying that.

That's not me, it's eternity calling.

What if this is really the end?

Then I'll write an ode to departure...

What, poetry now?

Poetry looks good with everything...

Going out with a rhyme, but no reason?

Bombs bursting..

In air?

Yes, a roar or a whimper..

Fire or ice?

This is a duck and cover moment...

You're such a pessimist.

@copyright/all rights reserved/ 2010

Thanks again to Willow, at magpietales for thinking up this terrific Mag..a bit of a challenge, but that's what we're here for!  Please check out all the Blogs who jumped on board.

http://www.minblu.blogspot.com/

http://twitter.com/lynxny

In The Mood For Love...

I'M IN LOVE...with a movie.  I've been hiding this, wanting it all for myself for about a year now, but it's time to let the cat out of the bag.  I'm like a stalker who's been in rehab..now willing to let you know! 

More beautiful than anything needs to be,  "In The Mood For Love", (2000), directed by the great Hong Kong director, Wong Kar-wai, is a story of yearning and desire.  From the elegant, atmospheric soundtrack of Yumeji's Theme, to the melodic flow of Nat King Cole's singing, surprise follows surprise.  Claustrophobic settings, elegant presentation!

The director has complete control over the action..and it's been said that there was no script when the movie began.  I can believe that the gorgeous stars, Maggie Cheung and Tony Leung, were aficionados of film noir, and found it easy to stroll through 1962, almost without instruction.  For that's what seems to happen a lot..walking past each other in glorious color, zaps of electricity almost visible.  And oh! that yearning..will there be rapture?    

The protagonists move into the same crowded apartment building.  They are married to spouses who are never present, whom they come to realize are romantically involved.  Their anguish draws them together, yet glances and measured words remain. 

The lighting, the rain, cigarette smoke, silk and shadows become part of our journey through their desire.  The undercurrent is rapturous.  Her beautiful wardrobe is more seductive than nudity would be.  One could say, everything is covered, except for the yearning.."For us to do the same thing, would mean that we are no better than they are".

I feel like a voyeur when I watch this movie.  In love with this one, in love with that...not real life.  A gorgeous movie.

Netflix is waiting.


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #20

                                photo/ willow/ magpie tales


RESTORATION 101


Here it is, the canvas of my life.
Time for maintenance.

It's better to sweep
a wide swathe of detritus away,
than to paper over
all the mistakes of the past.

I grab a useful brush,
not unlike the toothy kind,
and scrape against the accumulated plaque.
Then spray a scent to cover my exhalation,
as if fragrance itself equals
a cleansing.

Now the image of my years
is spread before me.
I try to float the dust
out of well worn crevices,
like Sisyphus pushing a ton of rubbish uphill.

Did he reach the top?
A rolling stone seeks its level
and gravity triumphs against a wanting soul,
no matter how serious the intent to win.

Whatever winning is.

Here's the likeness, brush it clean.
What seems a sketchy existence
stubbornly clings like skin.

Down on my hands and knees I go,
scrubbing,
like some indentured servant.


@copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2010


One more time, I'd like to thank Willow at magpie tales for being a weekly inspiration to all of us in Blogland.  I certainly look forward to one more enigmatic photo, from which springs....

Falling...

                                         Fernand Botero/ 1994


FALLING

You don't choose where you fall,
or when.
You don't choose what picks you up,
or whom.
There are those who lie there,
beside themselves,
as if wishful thinking

can lift them
like a giant hook,
hoist them up,
born, in all its meanings,
to be placed on top
once more.

But I don't believe in fairy dust,
I am the one to stand me up,
to re-read the story only I know,
and get the rhythm right.

If moving on is rescue,
then I am saved.


@copyright/all rights reserved/ 2010


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CHOCLAT SIN #22

SOME MAY NOT consider this to be a chocolate dessert.  But I think that the addition of a bit of chocolate elevates the taste of this Raspberry Mousse.  It's the contrast that does it.  Of course if you want to rush things, you can dip a raspberry into melted chocolate, and try the recipe some other time.


RASPBERRY MOUSSE/ CHOCOLATE SAUCE

Mousse:

1 envelope unflavored gelatin
2 cups frozen or fresh raspberries
1/2 cup sugar
1  1/2 cups heavy cream
1 tsp. vanilla

Sauce:
6 oz. semisweet chocolate, chopped

1.  In a bowl, mix gelatin into 3 tbls. cold water.  Let dissolve.
2.  Combine raspberries and sugar in saucepan.  Cook over medium/ low heat, stirring until sugar dissolves.  Stir in gelatin until blended and pour into a bowl.  Set aside to cool.
3.  Combine cream and vanilla in large bowl.  Whip to soft peaks.  Gently fold in raspberry mix.  Spoon into dessert dishes.  Cover with plastic wrap, refrigerate at least 2 hrs. until set.
4.  Sauce:  Combine chocolate and 3 tbls. water.  Microwave on high, about 1 min., till melted.  Whisk till smooth.  Cool slightly, then spoon over mousse.  Seves 6.  Decorate with some raspberries/ and or whipped cream.

A nice, light bodied red dessert wine would go very well with this. 


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #19

photo/willow/magpie tales

THE PRIZE

A sweet faced gentleman
stopped in front of the display case,
smiled shyly at me,
and said "Imagine that". 

Indeed.   

To be auctioned tonight, 
a pair of antique knives,
Opinel, Made in France,

displayed in a porcelain dish,
innocuous enough, except
for the list of previous owners.
 
Topping it was a Mr. Sweeney Todd
who had given the knives
as a gift of partnership
to Mrs. Lovett,
for chopping and slicing
certain ingredients
of her cannibalic pastry. 

Next on the list,
the knives
were traced
to Jack the Ripper,  
the ones he used
in the Whitechapel "Canonical Five".  

A link of cuts inscribed the throats, 
stood out to the knowing eye,
as the Modus Operandi.  

I shuddered at last in such a presence,
moved along
and found a seat
next to the gentleman,
who played by bidding for the knives, 
ran it high and won the set.

He smiled again in my direction
as off he went
to pay for the prize,
and quietly said in a whispered tone,
"I'll show them to you later if you'd like..

Allow me to introduce myself, 
my name is Hannibal Lecter,
let's chat... 
I'm here all alone".

@copyright/all rights reserved/2010


Again, a big thank you to Willow for presenting another intriguing Magpie Tale. 

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http://www.minblu.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/lynxny