Friday, May 24, 2024

The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: Voo's Spoken Word Poetry

The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: Voo's Spoken Word Poetry: https://soundcloud.com/user-780266601/sets/voo-unmasked two poems as read by me...................................... Click on above...

The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: SILENCED BY TRUTH

The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: SILENCED BY TRUTH: Silenced By Truth Oh, how they howl These belligerent dogs That guard the sheep That sleep in n...

The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: I LOVE A MAN WHO CAN CRY

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The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: UNOPENED BOXES (2)

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The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: LOOKING

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The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: UNBEKNOWNST TO ME

The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: UNBEKNOWNST TO ME: Unbeknownst To Me He stood there, musing As he often did About deep and wondrous things That only a poet could...

Wednesday, May 22, 2024

The Lost Man's Journey w/reading Repost

The Lost Man's Journey by Voo

my poem as dramatically read by my friend, Mark Anthony Games

aka The Human Voice from across the pond. Close your eyes and let him

take you to another time and place.

This one has an almost Lord of the Rings feel to it........

The Lost Man’s Journey

We were dreaming on tired feet

Running through thick gray clouds of ancient fog

Emerging from nightmare

And tasting of wine gone sour

My brother and I.

(Looking for you)

(Journeys are like lives

They never seem to end

And then they come to sudden halt

Whether fulfilled or left without harbor

Lost on the pathways and looking for light.)

Over mountain and stream

And valleys of mysteries

We stumbled without word

Or thought for the dawn

Of any cold sun that would rise without you.

(As we searched the world for your face)

How long we searched,

I do not know

I do not remember the nights

Lying in darkness with tears in my eyes

I do not remember because I do not dare.

You were there in the mist

Ethereal and ghostly, beckoning me

As you always have, with your angel’s smile

And a heart full of promise

That no man can read.

(You, with the water that quenches my thirst)

I barely remember the days

Dry, hot, cold, endless

Sunrise, sunset, twilight and morning

My brother scowling, as he scanned the horizon

Looking for reasons to keep moving forward.

We killed the men there on the road

Men who said they knew you

Men who smiled their last sad smiles

As they talked about your kiss

We killed them and we left them where they lay.

(Lives undone by the softness of your touch)

My hands were wearied of the sword

Wearied of the bow

Wearied of the dusty feet I walked on

And fearful of the journey’s end

Whatever that might be.

My brother sang

When he thought I was asleep

In the darkness of midnight

‘Neath the canopy of trees

He did not know I listened with heavy heart.

(A heart that holds no one but you)

In emerald forests, we found our food

Creatures, wild and wandering from home

They, and we, meeting on deadly grounds

That lead to extinction

And gave us strength for another day.

In strange noon darkness, we found the place of Shadows

That linger in the shades of time

Haunted things that had no recognition

That we were men,

But only other Shadows to be passed.

(Sometimes we wondered if you had crossed their paths)

Feminine forms, oft caught our eyes

From time to time

But only for a moment,

For we had no time to waste on borrowed lips

Even when they smiled with taste of honey.

Even when they reminded us of faded days,

Of home with evening fire and smell of bread,

Soft pillows and warm blankets

And nights beneath the stars

In arms of love.

(Those arms I needed to welcome me again)

My brother is a hard, hard man

At least to me

Older, wiser, with quiet eyes and quieter mouth

He did not share his thoughts

Nor complain about the journey.

The plan was made, the quest was given

And off we set,

Looking for the wayward woman

Who chose to run

Who brought dishonor upon our family name.

(Who took my heart and carried it as she ran)

Through thunderstorm we walked in rain,

Sunlit days as gold as glory,

The nights as black as windows down in hell

Trudging onward toward the great unknown

(And fighting sick despair within our souls)

We came upon a village fair

Children running, and sounds of laughter

Out of the fog, houses appeared

Tall sunflowers and barking dogs

Smells of cooking and sparkling skies.

(And there, upon the wind, we smelled your fragrance)

My heart, a racing, foolish thing

That leapt in hope

I searched the way for sight of you

Even as the bitter fury filled my face.

My brother’s eyes, unreadable and hooded

Looked back at me,

Nodded once, and hurried through the morning,

Through the trees, with dagger in his hand.

(Toward the sound of laughter that would fade away like dreams)

My courage failing,

Hesitation slowed me

Each step a hundred thousand deaths

Each heart beat, forty more

I walked as though a dead man, there in my brother’s dust.

What I would find, I did not know

What I would do, did not foresee

For I had not thought farther than

Your face, my only treasure

Shining once again upon the world.

(The treasure you had taken back as you forsook your vow to me)

A man lies dying by a garden gate

His blood, a crimson pool, mixed with regret

His mouth is opened, stunned, in disbelief

His hand is empty, reaching out

For a hand he thought was his.

How many men have reached for you, I wonder

How many dead and dying, for the wanting of your love?

I cannot think of that, now that you are near me

A wounded animal, I crash the door

With a raging, mad desire.

(And the dreams of all the old days coming back to life)

Your sweet voice beguiling

And pleading for mercy,

Your eyes catch my own as I stop, as in trance

Over his shoulder as his arms gather round you

My brother, your husband, with his arms hard as steel.

The journey ends

Without succor and no harbor

Finding you, I am tethered now to shadows

Like the Lost Ones encountered

On the road to your door.

(And all I can think of is your mouth upon mine)

Kissing your face, my brother smiles,

Perhaps for the first time in memory

“Never leave me.” he says in your ear

As you tear your eyes from me

Laugh, and shake back your hair.

“Never again.” I hear you whisper

Promising a wild heart that belongs to no man

I cannot look away, I cannot breathe,

Your eyes hold me tight as he gathers you tighter

Your lips, sweet as wine, tease with a smile like the sun.

(As I wonder how I ever thought him wise)

And I still believe that there’s a way

Beyond the mists, beyond the dust of yesterday

For me and you, my brother’s wife, locked in his arms

Until the dagger finds it’s mark

And the sun goes dark forever.

Returning home, I do not dream, I do not sleep, I do not speak

No wine can ease my pain or mend my soul

I eat no food nor does my brother offer it

And when we reach the place of Shadows,

He does not notice when I fall behind.

(No longer a man, perhaps I’ll find you there.)

©by Voo

June 1, 2010

2:30 a.m.

Tuesday, May 21, 2024

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The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: I Play For You a Violin repost

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Elevator To Heaven

Wednesday, May 8, 2024

Still Looking for Memorials to Allan

Found these recently.............

https://jamboards.com/threads/so-allan-weisbecker-died.17738/page-2

https://www.picuki.com/tag/AllanWeisbecker

Allan Weisbecker, Surfer and Author

1948 - Sept. 24, 2023

February 22, 2024

The Star has received word that Allan Weisbecker, “a surfer, a seeker, an author, and, above all, a pirate,” in the words of a friend, died on Sept. 24 in Northern California. The cause of death is uncertain. Mr. Weisbecker, who spent many years in Montauk, was 75.

“He pulled from his life’s adventures for his books and scripts he wrote for the shows ‘Miami Vice,’ ‘Crime Story,’ and numerous others,” said the friend, Lee Bieler of Hawaii, who met Mr. Weisbecker in Montauk in 1971.

According to the website Surfer Today, his love for the waves “was cemented when he learned to surf at Ditch Plain” in Montauk “in 1965.” His love of surfing “led him to adventures around the world, from the North Shore in Hawaii to the captivating waters of Costa Rica.”

Mr. Weisbecker, who was born in 1948 in New York City to Allan and Anne Weisbecker, loved Montauk, Mr. Bieler said, “and spent a significant part of his life there, with many surf trips and adventures in between.” He had spent the last decade of his life on the road, writing, taking photographs, and surfing.

A regular at Ditch Plain Beach, he and his dog were well known there. “He was an integral part of the original Montauk surf crew from the ‘70s,” Mr. Bieler said. “If he wasn’t surfing, he was sitting in his beach chair with his dog.”

“I’m a writer,” Mr. Weisbecker wrote on his website, “with three books in print: A cult-hit autobiographical novel called ‘Cosmic Banditos’ and two memoirs, ‘In Search of Captain Zero: A Surfer’s Road Trip Beyond the End of the Road’ and my latest, ‘Can’t You Get Along With Anyone? A Writer’s Memoir and a Tale of a Lost Surfer’s Paradise.’ The first two have been bought for the movies, by John Cusack (with New Crime Productions) and Sean Penn (with Radar Pictures) respectively. In both deals I was hired on as screenwriter.”

“His literary contributions are characterized by a brazen honesty and a unique ability to combine seemingly disparate elements into a coherent narrative,” according to Surfer Today.

Mr. Weisbecker also described himself as a journalist whose work appeared in magazines including Men’s Journal, Smithsonian, The Surfer’s Journal, Popular Photography, and American Cowboy. “I was a ‘Hollywood writer’ for over twenty years,” he wrote. He wrote the screenplay for “Beer,” which he called “a comedy about a beer advertising campaign that gets out of hand.”

“I made a good living in Hollywood right into the mid-1990s,” he wrote, “then, for personal, aesthetic reasons, I decided to get back to living life; I wrote some books.”

“In his book ‘In search of Captain Zero,’ in many ways Allan was searching for himself,” Mr. Bieler said, “and I sure hope he found him.”

Mr. Weisbecker was cremated. A paddle-out in his memory will happen in Montauk this summer on a date to be determined, Mr. Bieler said. Memorial contributions have been suggested to the Animal Rescue Fund of the Hamptons at arfhamptons.org.

https://www.virginiastoner.com/writing/2023/12/8/allan-weisbecker-dies-i-meet-his-doppelganger-in-chaco-canyon

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x8oot67

https://www.surfer.com/features/allan-weisbecker-ill