blue moon (2)

Thursday, February 04, 2010

Sweeter Than Wine ©

Sometimes I sit back in my couch and see things in my head like now, I see a man on a hilltop.
A hill surrounded by valleys with lush meadows.
Not a soul to be seen any where but this one man on a hill

He walks over to a large boulder and pulled the sack off of his back before he sat down on this large boulder.
Sitting on there he proceeded to open the sack and pulled out a smaller parcel wrapped in cloth.
Laying the larger sack next to the boulder he laid the small package next to him and proceeded to unwrap it.

Unwrapping the package he reveals a piece of cheese, some bread and olives.
Tearing a piece of bread from the loaf, he bit a piece of off to take away some of the sting of the strong cheese he had just nibbled off.
Throwing in an olive in to mingle with the other flavors in his mouth.

Wiping his hands on his greasy pants he reached down into the bag once more and pulled out a skin filled with wine and took a long draw before reaching for some more bread.
After about thirty minutes of eating and squeezing his wineskin he wrapped everything up in the cloth once more and placed it on the ground in front of the boulder.

Leaning back on his hands he breathed in a lungful of fresh air then exhaled his pleasure.
Reaching down to the large sack again he drew out a stringed instrument then up to his arms.
His hands caressed it as he whispered words of love to it but also reminding it that she was his little whore to use as he wished before plucking at one of her strings.

Taking the wineskin once more he filled the back of his throat until it cascaded over his lips and onto his shirt.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his arm he placed the container down and ran his hand over the strings of his instrument.

His thumb slowly pushed down producing a sharp sound with each string it pulled at.
Strumming the strings once more the new and old notes danced together as one faded away and the other brought a new life to its existence.

Slowly he found a rhythm that pleased his mind and added to it, his fingers attacking the strings like a hungry beast.
His fingers sang about the cheese and sweet olives he just ate
About the bread that filled his belly and the wine, the wine that warmed up his soul.

He closed his eyes and the music poured out of his instrument from atop of that hill surrounded by valleys and meadows.
His head swam with the music and before long he could hear another instrument playing in the background, then another.
And…..and there was clapping too
Clapping, people clapping and dancing

His fingers plucked at the strings with passion, hate and fury; or was it love.
Tearing at the different notes with his finger yet still gently caressing her body.
He loved his little whore.

His feet started moving with the music and before long he could hear singing far away in his head but it was getting louder and louder as he ripped at the love of his life.
Pushing her to her limits until he sat bolt up eyes wide open, tearing at her soul as if it was his own soul he tore at.
His eyes strained against his skull as he saw people, people walking up the sides of the hill from all around.
Some with instruments of their own others clapping and singing while his fingers spilling out his life across the strings and down the hill.

Sliding off the boulder without skipping a note he walked out towards the people as they gathered around him, clapping and dancing in a giant circle.
Urging him on to spill his soul out so they can bask in his glory.
To show them his pain and love as they stumbled to their knees with its weight on their shoulders.
Their fingers clawing at their chests as he claws at the strings of the instrument in his hands.

His fingers sang about what they had witnessed and felt while his mind regressed beyond yesterday into a pool emotion as the world spun around him.
He played into the sunset and beyond to the hordes gathered around him in tears of pain, joy and triumph until the dawn smiled down and the tears quelled the burning fire still left inside him.
Then when the notes faded to a whisper he packed his sack and stood on a barren hill surrounded by valleys and meadows.

Just shit I think up sometimes

Have a nice day



Anonymous said...

That's some shit!

Very well written. It built to a crescendo, just like his music.

Boxer said...

and I'd say this some of your better "shit". :-)

Walker said...

Skye: I can red as fast as the music so I wouldn't know LOL

Walker said...

Boxer: You think, its not like crappy shit eh?

KathyA said...

Thank you for visiting my blog and for your insightful comment. I am and always have been enthralled by language development -- and you are so right -- it's just fun being around this little walking tape recorder!
I give credit to my living with a grand parent who spoke little to no English (and the fact that I taught high school English for most of my professional life) with my ability to understand (most of the time) what she is saying. :) Kathy

Joanna Cake said...

I really liked this... the music made me jump tho - it's nearly 1am!

Just telling it like it is said...

Is there anything sweeter than cheap box wine? I think not.

Peter said...

Thats all Greek to me Walker!!!!!!!