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Ventura Prose: February 2007
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Wednesday, February 14, 2007. A Tale of Two Abel's. Abel passed ever so quietly through my doorway, barely. Making a peep. While crossing the threshold, which. Heroically guarded my place of safe haven, an easy wind. Accompanied him. It whisked across my cheek, coaxing me,. Unsuccessfully, to hear the forbidden secret it was trying to. Abel's small, deep set, steel blue eyes bore the look of a. Directionless wanderer. I sensed that society had tagged him. To the rule, or so I thought. Keep his appointmen...
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Ventura Prose: February 2006
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Tuesday, February 14, 2006. Start something already; a maniacal little project that. Sifts and sorts, removes debris and confiscates the mundane. Hey you: mind abundant, eradicate yourself. Of all this mumble and chatter; like disembodied. Spirit talk rambling half- lived ideas at the back. Of this over burdened, bulbous brain. Stop! Start this thing already; a saga, a novel, a. And you, you naked page, with your four straight edges. And your placid, white faced grin; what are you staring at? Dedicated t...
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Ventura Prose: May 2007
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Tuesday, May 29, 2007. All the usual works of art were neatly arranged. Along the pristine walls, just as they had been the. Month before and the months before that. On the. Third Sunday of each month, the museum was. Graham's favorite destination point. The only area. Of the museum he was really interested in was. Where the permanent collection was housed. He. Felt safe there, with his imagination stretching only. Within the confines of what had become familiar and. But merely taking an art class in ord...
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Ventura Prose: March 2006
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Friday, March 31, 2006. I was the High Priestess of a counterfeit. Coven of one. If you'd press the center. Of my soft little heart, I'd fold and snap like. An overused, under-appreciated tentacle. With ash singed tooth, I'd guard my little. Flock of multiple reflections, selfishly. Six out of seven had spontaneously. Vaporized, but I glared them back into. I, of the seventh nature, was met. With great opposition. I could not. Will myself back into submission. In desperation, I resorted to a patch-up.
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Ventura Prose: November 2006
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Friday, November 24, 2006. The lazy genius is a somnambulist, sleepwalking through. The garden of life. Like a fool in paradise, our gentle subject. Picks flowers of only the most exotic origins, yet will never. Bother to research their genus, nor question why the petals. Gleefully quake and shimmer as they pass through the. Anointed oils of those gifted hands. Our lazy genius shirks mundane responsibilities, and pushes. Aside the clash and clutter of the universe, in favor of a cool. Of a thousand saints.
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Ventura Prose: July 2006
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Tuesday, July 18, 2006. Excuse me while I dematerialize for a few moments. You see. I'm overdue for my afternoon fix. Feel free to amuse yourselves. In my absence. I'll just be changing into something more. Comfortable. Let's see. shall I put on a lovely thin pane of. Glass, or shall it be something even a bit more risque, like. A dancing little breeze. With this I promise to frolic behind. Your neck. Oh and one more thing; when I return, don't be. They circulate around me like a halo, 24/ 7. And mercy&#...
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Ventura Prose: June 2006
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Sunday, June 25, 2006. Nefertiti promises to get out of my head. She dropped. By one night for a visit, just as I had stepped out for a. Twilight doze. I could have smacked her thoughts like. A pesky mosquito, but her diatribe bore a hole into the. Right side of my brain, diverting my attention into a. Historical loophole. I've tried to be patient with her. But. Now she's become a little neurotic and parasitic, as. She whispers these words again and again:. These breasts were not made of terra cotta, nor.
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Ventura Prose: May 2006
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Tuesday, May 30, 2006. I peer at the photographic image of a primordial plant root,. With its vascular tendrils searching for the home it will never. Find, as it has been so inconsiderately yanked out of its soil. By the brute force of a human hand. It lay so compliantly, placed there by the sanitized eye of. The photographer, against a white titanium background;. So brightly lit and overly exposed. Its insignificant, nameless. Plant matter, with leaves so young and green and tender,. Friday, May 19, 2006.
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Ventura Prose: March 2007
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Sunday, March 18, 2007. For George (aka Finnegan) March 18,1955-March 11,2007. Perhaps now I can live my life a little more recklessly,. Thumbing my nose at warning signs, laughing at impending. Danger. In time I will get to where you are and you will be. Waiting. I think it's like in the movies, I'm here, you're there. I feel you, you leave signs. But the ending can't be truly. Happy, till the ending comes. All in good time my friend,. All in good time. Forgive me dear one, my memory fails me these days.
