Sleeping with Dragons

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Sleeping with Dragons

No forked tongue,

Only the truth.

I slept with dragons

In my youth.

 

Lust and Ladies,

Along with booze,

Their fiery breaths

Bade me to choose.

 

Now, the end is near,

And I seek redemption.

Hot dragons whisper

Harshly, ‘No exemption’.

 

Flashing before me in

Giant reptilian themes,

I toss on a rumpled bed

Of ignominious dreams.

 

So, brothers of the bond,

Hearken to my broken life.

Seek love and nobility

In the arms of your wife.

 

Avoid the paths before you

That lead to Dragon caves

And sleep not with them

To reach dishonored graves.

 

Billy Ray Chitwood – February 17, 2017

 

Please visit my Website, view my books of mystery and romance, read some of my book reviews and blogs, and some author comments.

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Sunrise Sonata

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Sunrise Sonata

The man’s countenance projected a sorrowful and faraway expression as his body found some measure of comfort against the boulder just below the rise of the hill. The spot was his place of meditation.

 

He came during darkness after the awful TV news of a mob’s protest turned violent killing innocents and destroying property over several city blocks.

 

In the dark quietness he lifted his tenor saxophone toward the starlit sky and filled the cool air with soft mellifluous notes, springing from a well of remembered love songs. The soft notes floated upward toward a Deity the man could never forsake, to the Omniscient and Omnipotent King of Kings, the golden instrument praying in its way for the miracle of Love and Peace.

 

Tears came to dry upon his face time and again as the agony of soul sought release. The anger and hate of hooded protesters could not stop the madness that plagued the Earth. Only the merger of kindred minds could bring the world together.

 

The man watched the sunrise from his spot of somber solitude, and a spiritual stirring came to his body, a feeling of some respite, a sense of Designed Expectation.

 

He rose, placed his saxophone in its case and walked from the hill. He was sure he could hear the rapturous sounds of his saxophone in the air behind him.

 

Billy Ray Chitwood – February 11, 2017

 

Please visit my website, preview my 14 books, read some book reviews, blogs,  and some comments by the author.

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Grains of Time

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Grains of Time

As young Undaunted men

Courting the Pretty Girls,

Filling frivolous moments

In search of some vague

And haunting Realities,

Time was not a relative thing.

 

We Lotus Eaters thought

Little about life’s Timeline.

For we were going to live

Forever in that misty amber

World of Mahogany Bars

And Tinkling highball glasses.

 

We made love to lovely women,

Came close at times to a

Modicum of Maturity, only to be

Dashed by other pretty faces

In the crowd and those alluring,

Tinkling, highball glasses.

 

We wrote our insipid poetry on

Bar napkins and business cards,

Those droll lines that joined us

In our painful Morning hangovers

Along with black coffee and the

All day ingestion of breath mints.

 

At our ‘Reunion’ last year, all of us

Now happily settled down with

Wives, grown children, grandkids,

And ‘Arthur’, we tipped Highball

Glasses once again and agreed:

‘Our Way was the Only Way!’

 

Billy Ray Chitwood – February 5, 2017

Please visit my Website, preview my 14 books, read some reviews & author comments. @brchitwood (twitter)

Author Website: http://billyraychitwood.com

Junkyard Philosophers

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Junkyard Philosophers

From whence came this yearning of my soul?

It’s only a question I ask every day of my life, fitting, I suppose, of one with dubious genetic structure and a mangled environmental beginning marked by too many turns and twists of emotional enigmas. Of course, my portal in the scheme of time must say volumes. Am I ‘matter’ that does not matter?

Who am I?

In thinking about the question, I’m an amalgam of insecurities and dreams. I love people but cherish my private times of aloneness and my writing for self-discovery plus self-therapy. I fail. I succeed. I get angry when the computer cannot keep up with the thoughts I’m typing, some words moving to paragraphs up the page from where they should be.

Who am I?

I’m a dreamer, too lost to a past of incredible joy and love, of business victories and defeats, of consuming despair, fears, and regrets, with the painfully stark acknowledgement that more sags and wrinkles visit my body and refuse to leave. I love people but love more being at home alone with my wife…writing watching a movie. I’m a lusty fellow when it comes to moving to a new locale – that makes me a wanderlust and my wife a haggard packer of boxes.

Who am I?

I’m a piece of ‘Everyman’, spread too thin to be a consistent devotee of something good and mostly reasonable. My writing is the one constant in my life, for it allows me many personalities to sketch and get to know. Those sketches give me glimpses of who I am.

It’s my belief I must have brothers and sisters of the bond out there – not depraved and lost souls, just junkyard philosophers.

Billy Ray Chitwood – January 26, 2017

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A New Destiny

Washington DC Prepares For Presidential Inauguration

A New Destiny

     On Friday, January 20, 2017, the United States writes the first chapter in its new destiny – what should be the peaceful transition of National power, the swearing-in of a new president, Donald J. Trump.

    With this inauguration, America ushers in a new destiny with a man who defies all the odds to become our Commander-in-Chief. Donald Trump at this point in our history is a ubiquitous figure throughout the world, and people of different persuasions are busy weighing in with their appraising thoughts.

    Some in our Democracy believe, or, know, that, once in the White House, then President Trump will challenge the long-standing status quo and bring about changes that will damage the national and global profile of our great country, that he will bring changes to our entitlement programs that will harm the elderly, the poor, and the needy, that his total lack of political experience will bring chaos and a national deficit which will devastate our economy, that he is too brash and self-centered to have the high privilege of serving in this high office.  

    Some in our Democracy believe, or, know, that then President Trump is truly going to make ‘America Great Again’, altering our political landscape by eliminating stifling regulations, lowering taxes, growing jobs, getting immigration under control, building up our military, changing and/or localizing our education system, giving parents more possibilities for their children to better learn at the skill levels that fit and are important to them, helping the elderly and poor handle their health needs, introducing new health plans that are more affordable, and to halt the terrible tide of terrorism in all its forms.

    You can choose your side…some of you likely know where I land between the two above suggested scenarios, and that goes along with our Democracy’s freedom of expression.

    Personally, I would hope we could all embrace the time-honored tradition of a peaceful transition. After all, it is not the president we honor on inauguration so much as it is the process – a democracy changing its governance, dictated by the will of the people.

    Some people still wish to talk about the ‘popular vote’ being the best way for choosing a president in lieu of the ‘electoral college’.

    It is hard for me to remain silent on this issue. The states of New York, California, and Illinois will generally supply enough liberal votes to elect their preference under this system. What about the other states – the heartland, those people who work our fields for food, laborers who lay the brick and mortar for our buildings, the folks who would be forgotten in a ‘popular vote’ democracy…that would mean just a few states would decide our elections. I’m not saying the states mentioned who want the ‘popular vote system’ do not have these people. These states do have the ‘crop producers’ and ‘skilled laborers’, but, they are traditionally outnumbered by the liberal left. It just seems to me an unfair system when we make the votes of so many in other states meaningless.

    Okay, I’m just one voice speaking up for a peaceful transition of power on inauguration day… Tomorrow! You have your ‘free speech’ and ‘assembly’ rights. It is my fervent hope and prayer that all is peaceful on this day of our time-honored traditional transfer of power. That is what our great Democracy and Freedom is all about, what our founding fathers intended, and what so many of our brave patriots have fought and died in wars to protect.

Billy Ray Chitwood – January 19, 2017

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Passing Glory

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Passing Glory

PAST

          We practiced all summer, between beach time and part-time work. We worked hard to become Western Rose High School’s best tandem quarterback and wide receiver in the football history of our school and our state of South Carolina.

          We? Bobby Borden is the wide receiver of whom I write. The quarterback is Danny Miles. That would be me. 

          Coach Collins ended our Spring Practice session with this locker room announcement: “I’m already second-guessing myself in telling you guys this, but here goes. The team assembled in this locker room may very well be the best group of athletes we Coaches have had for years. I’m talking about all positions. I’m talking about depth, I’m talking about speed, about execution of plays on offense and defense.”

          The coach paused, did that little lip press and nod thing he does when he’s about to say something big.

          “What I’m saying to you group of young men is that you are potentially as good as any South Carolina State Championship team this state ever crowned…”

          Pause.

          “Now, it’s good if this news pumps you up, but do not, repeat, do not, get your thinking going off in the wrong direction. The teams you will be playing this Fall and Winter will likely be hearing something similar from their coaches. What I’m saying is real, and I mean every word. You can be South Carolina State Champs this year. Keep believing these words! Make them your mantra! BUT, do not ease up on the practice field. Execute your plays, play your positions like you’re in that State Championship game.

          “Remember this point: regardless what you hear and read in the various media, do not go into any game thinking the other team is a ‘lay down’. Each team you play this year will be reading of your newspaper heroics and will be posting their bulletin board hypes, having their pep rallies, practicing hard just to humiliate you. Stay within yourselves, know you’re good, but go into every game knowing that the other team has watched the video tapes, know as well as they can your strengths and weaknesses and are waiting to pounce on any mistake or turnover you make.

          “We Coaches will do all we can to have you prepared for battle, but you are the guys that have to play the game…and, don’t worry, we’ll keep reminding you of this little locker room chat.

          “Remember, football is just a game but it can teach you some important life lessons and lead to bright futures – if not in football, in the business world. 

          “The last thing I’ll mention is also very important. Each time you take the field against that other team, remember to have fun! Practice will be at times very tiring because the Coaches want to hone your skills, have those skills ingrained so they will be second nature, and you will be glad when bedtime comes. Whether a freshman, sophomore, junior, or senior, the rewards are waiting for you when you finish your academics here at Western Rose, scholarships for some, jobs for others, and I guarantee you that these years of playing a rough sport and learning in those classrooms will have you ready for the even tougher competition in the adult world…”

PRESENT

          Bobby Borden gathers in his large soft hands my long high-floating spiral on Breton High’s 17-yard line. Bobby works hard to make it all the way to the end zone but the Breton safety has the right angle and tackles my best receiver on the 12-yard line…

          Coach Collins predicts correctly about our team. We make it all the way to the South Carolina State Football Championship Game in Clemson, South Carolina.

          Coach is right about something else. We build a 24-3 lead at halftime and come out too full of ourselves in the second half. The Breton Warriors make some good adjustments, stop us cold in the third quarter and score three touchdowns – on our two fumbles near our goal line and a punt return. 

          The coach at the end of the third quarter huddles the players on the sidelines and gives us a reality check. “You’re playing too tight guys and rushing your assignments. We’re here in this exalted stadium with a huge crowd mostly on our side, and they are dying a little bit each time we make a mistake. Look, this is your game to win or lose. You work hard to get here. You believe in yourselves. You know you’re as good or better than the Breton Beavers. The Western Rose Warriors need to take a few deep breaths and rev up for a big finish. Danny, make your reads, audible when you see a one-on-one possibility for Bobby. The Breton safety doesn’t look full-speed to me. Maybe you work on him. Be ready to scramble, Danny, because they are going to keep blitzing you…try a screen pass or two to get them away from the blitz. You linemen are doing a great job. Keep it up. And, Bubba Hopkins, hit them hard up the middle and over tackle…”

          The horn sounds for the third quarter.

          Coach Collins finishes with this: “All the Coaches are proud of you guys. You’ve got fifteen minutes to build some great memories… Love you guys!”

          We all pile on hands, yell loudly, and take the field.

          Well, the fourth quarter goes well for us except for some stupid penalties that stop our drives. Our defense is terrific, holding the Beavers to sixteen total yards. So, now, we’re on the Beavers 12-yard line with nine minutes to play in the game, huddling, and I’m calling a fake hand-off and throwing to Bobby at the post. Bobby fakes the defensive double coverage players out of their jocks and makes our tandem a thing of beauty… The huge, awesome crowd and our sideline goes wild. My heart does little flip-flops!

          Touchdown! Extra Point! 31-24…

          The Beavers take the kickoff on their own 6-yard line, and our special team guys get the runner on the 13-yard line. The Warriors are feeling good. We have the beavers on their own 13-yard line. They try a couple of running plays but our linebackers fill the gaps.

          The Beavers are now facing third down and six yards to go for a first down. The Beaver quarterback calls a screen, and we blitz. The speedy and small motion guy jukes our linebacker, catches a high pass, and outruns our safety and two other defensive backs for a touchdown. Great play! And I hate it!

          Score: 31-31!

          With the football changing hands two times, we now have one minute and three seconds to play in the game. We miss an opportunity to take the lead. We score on a pass play, but the touchdown is nullified because of a holding penalty. After two more dumb penalties, we punt to the Beavers.

          The Beavers have the ball. After our defense holds, it’s fourth down on the Beavers 40-yard line. Their Coach calls the team’s final time-out to go over the options. There are only twenty-one seconds left on the game clock when the players go back on the field.

          The quarterback almost loses the ball from the errant center, but recovers and lofts a long 35-yard pass to his wide receiver who catches the ball.

          On our sideline, there are lots of groans and many heads are hanging low. Our safety hits the wide receiver with a jarring tackle on our 10-yard line and the football goes straight up into the air about fifteen feet. Our safety twirls, looks up, and the ball falls into his arms. He then races ninety exciting yards for a touchdown, dodging, stiff-arming, turning, twisting.

          Happy moments for Western Rose Warriors.

          Score: 38-31!

          That’s the way the score stays as the ensuing kickoff return is the last play of the game. The runner is tackled on the Beavers’ eleven-yard line as the clock runs out.

          The noise is deafening! People are rushing onto the field. Players are embracing, some crying tears of joy, some tears of defeat.

          The western Rose Warriors are the South Carolina State Football Champions!

FUTURE

          Bobby Borden and Danny Miles got their athletic scholarships and went on to play as a star tandem passer/receiver at Clemson University where they had three winning seasons and bowl appearances. AND, they could have played pro ball but decided a business partnership and marriage was more important to them.

          They married their high school sweethearts, had wonderful families, and built a major sports products business. They stayed friends throughout their lives and occasionally watched a replay of their victory over the Breton Beavers.

          They never forgot Coach Collins and his assistant coaches. They never forgot the glory of winning the South Carolina State Football Championship and their great games at Clemson. The bruises and jarring tackles of past football glory became arthritis and hip replacements eventually. Their football experiences made them competitive in business and they achieved most of their goals.

          Glory came with business more often than football victories, and the elation always came with each goal achievement, much like that championship game in Clemson, South Carolina.

          Glory with all its euphoria fades but can temper the rest of our lives. The football experience often has for some of us a subtle current that never leaves our minds and bodies. When the right Coaches meet the right players, there can be magic in the transference.

         Past glories and the sports’ lessons learned have a place always in the hearts and memories of those who experience them. Those lessons can weave themselves into positive outcomes for life’s problems. When faith, humility, love, and family are added the human spirit thrives.

 Flash Fiction by: Billy Ray Chitwood – January, 2017

Please visit my Website, preview my 14 books, some reviews, blogs, and some comments by the author.

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 CONGRATULATIONS TO CLEMSON UNIVERSITY- NATIONAL FOOTBALL CHAMPS!

 

‘The Way We Were’ – Then and/or Now

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The Way We Were – Then or Now

 We awake in the cave, our minds blurred by realities of living.

 Moira goes deeper into the cave to bathe.

 Somehow, we have ended up here above the land we now see through the opening of the only home Moira and I have ever known. We eat certain vegetation, sweetly sour berries, and meat from the kills of our crude weapons. Over time we have developed a language that allows us to communicate with each other.

 Who are we? What are we? What is our purpose? Are we creations of some bewildering fate that allows us the awareness of thought? We can think and therefore we exist. There must be more than the hunt, the kill, the cave in which we live.

 What of this thing I hold in my hand, heavy and gouged by the passing of time? How is it I know to call it a rock? I throw the rock into the wall of the cave and it bounces here and there, finally landing not far from the great opening.

 Moira’s question breaks into my thoughts.

 “Why do you throw the rock, Meito?”

 Without looking at Moira, I fumble with the dirt and pebbles on the ground where I kneel, I respond. “I throw the rock because of my confusion and our way of living…the rock has thickness, weight, and no feelings. Why can’t we be like the rock?”

 Moira stands a few feet away from me. She has just come from the cleansing water pit deep in the cave, her long black hair wet and stringy. Her pretty face and deep brown eyes show innocence and purity. The meager animal skin she wears clings to her body and does little to hide the sensual fullness of her youth.

 “Because the rock has little function,” Moira answers. “Because the rock has no feeling, cannot hunt, kill, and show love. Meito, we have this same conversation so often. This is where we are and must accept our destiny. We have made our lives better than when we met some years ago, hopeless and lost in this wild mountainside. We will go on and trust in our love. I believe there is some spirit power that will guide us to where it is we are going.”

 As I stand, a smile appears on Moira’s face and her eyes sparkle with an unfathomable certainty. She sees my heavy brown beard part and show its own smile. I go to her, and we embrace.

 “You always lift me out of my depression. We will let life happen as it is destined to happen. The people we see hiding behind trees, fleeing from us – as we flee from them – maybe, one day, we can unite and get out of the caves… You are beautiful, sweet Moira, and your love is enough for me.”

 We soon leave the cave for our hunt.

 It is a beautiful day on the mountain.

 Flash Fiction by:

 Billy Ray Chitwood – January 1, 2017

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Winter Musings

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Winter Musing

The trees are bare and ungiving

Like the souls of sick minds,

Their dead leaves floating in the

Wind to a winter of indifference.

 

Among the chaos of winter urges

Comes the hope of a white dove,

Spreading its inviting wings of

Devotion to an ancient Deity.

 

Soon the loveliness of Spring and

Fertile minds will convene again

To delve into the mysteries of life,

The primeval phenomenon of Faith.

Billy Ray Chitwood – Christmas day – 2016

 

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Believe It Or Not

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Believe It or Not!

It’s difficult…”

It’s also illegal…”

Can’t tell my wife, my kids, my in-laws, my friends…my country.”

These are the most frustrating moments of my life!”

The Shrink sat in his stuffed leather chair, legs crossed, staring across the short space with imperious blue squinted eyes. Dr. Keeley paused for several seconds, his white hair and beard giving him an appearance of some ancient scholar whose mind held all the answers. “Do you wish to discuss with me these concerns, Mr. Taylor?”

I do. I have to talk to someone, or go nuts…no humor intended. The information I have is smothering me. May I ask, is our conversation totally private and cannot be divulged to anyone?”

That is correct, Mr. Taylor. The information you share with me is private and assured confidentiality. Feel free and secure in sharing your information with me.”

Does that hold true for divulging government ‘Top Secret’ data to which I’m privy and have signed ‘Non-Disclosure’ agreements, under penalty of fines and imprisonment?”

I can only tell you of my ethical standards and ask that you be sure whatever it is you wish to discuss has some medical basis, that is, it is detrimental to your mental and/or physical health. I can say I’ve had no one before you discuss with me any ‘Top Secret Non-Disclosure’ data.”

Well, there’s no one with whom I can talk, or, at least, feel safe in talking…even my good wife. You know, most people likely have a predisposition about ‘Conspiracy Theories’, and what I will tell you certainly qualifies…although it’s the absolute truth. It’s been a real problem for me, watching our country for years go down what I believe is the wrong path, and, now, with me privy to this information, I’m feeling like we are near the Apocalypse stage… Damn, where do I start?”

Take your time, Mr. Taylor, and try to relax,” said Dr. Keeley.

After a few quiet moments, Mr. Taylor spoke. “I will not tell you how I obtained this information, nor will I mention any names or locations. You will listen and perhaps think I’m rational and sensible, yet a big part of you will doubt and presume I’m a fruitcake…”

Mr. Taylor waited for a moment for Dr. Keeley to reply. He did not.

Mr. Taylor proceeded. “There is a new Army being built in our country as I speak, an Army the likes of which the world has never seen, except, perhaps, in ‘Star Wars’ or ‘Terminator’ movies. The machines will indeed take over the world – THAT is my fear! I’m talking about bio-sensitive machines, huge machines that can move at the speed of sound, including human-oriented robots that can take different shapes, robots and machines that cannot be destroyed.

There is a global central command here in our country that will electronically, intricately, with scientific, technological fail safe certainty, control these machines and human robots and send them to the troubled spots of the world… ISIS and all the other terrorist groups will be eradicated within weeks, not months, years, but days and weeks. Talk about art imitating life! This is Science and Technology imitating life – or, maybe somehow more accurately, creating new non-organic life forms and machines.

While I want ISIS and all evil eradicated, Dr. Keeley, my fear is we are creating a human wasteland. We are letting the wisdom of history and the ages fall upon deaf ears. We are messing with an ‘Intelligent Creator’s Grand Plan’…unless we’ve been duped by the tenets of Faith – and, I don’t believe that. Barbarians who behead and burn people alive, of course, deserve their eradication for their ideology is pure evil. What about the emotions of love and compassion? What about that intricate nine-month cycle of birth? What about the beauty all around us, the oceans, seas, deserts, and mountains? Are we…”

Mr. Taylor, lost in his passionate oratory, looked across at Dr. Keeley. He was slumped in his chair, his chin on his chest, eye glasses askew on his face… There was a soft snoring sound, louder with each breath, emanating from Dr. Keeley’s benign face.

Mr. Taylor slammed his right foot down on the lovely wooden flooring.

The noise brought Dr. Keeley upright in his chair, announcing: “We will meet again this time next week if it is convenient for you…”

Have you not heard a word I’ve said?” asked an irritated Mr. Taylor.

Of course, you give me the same ‘conspiracy theory’ every week at this time. I practically have your words memorized. I’m hoping each week that I shall hear additional information about your theory. Are you taking the medication I prescribed for you?”

You have prescribed no medications for me, Dr. Keeley…if you are a Doctor! This is my first and only visit to your office. You are a conspiracy yourself, a real ‘quack’, if you ask me!”

And, you tell me that each week, Mr. Taylor.”

So, why do you take my money? If you can’t help me, why do you continue seeing me?”

Dr. Keeley rose, walked to the exit door, opened it, smiled gently, and bid Mr. Taylor goodbye with these words, “It’s ‘ground hog day’ each week for you, Mr. Taylor, with your monologue and our dialogue repeating itself. Please take the medication. It can help you. As I’ve told you, the original Mr. Taylor died shortly after seeing me the first time. I’ve also told you that at each visit. If you are one of the ‘human-oriented’ and ‘bio-sensitive’ robots, you should have the new army re-program you…you should have the new army re-program you…you should have the new army re-program you…you should have the new army re-program you…”

Mr. Taylor stood mortified. On and on went the would-be Dr. Keeley with monotonic sameness and the same gentle smile.

Oh, my God! The new army has begun its new computerized ‘key people replacement process’. What can I do? What can I do? What can I do? What can I do? What can I do? What can I do?”

Flash Fiction authored by: Billy Ray Chitwood – December, 2016

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The Soul of a Dreamer

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The Soul of a Dreamer

or

Play Me a Tune, Piano Man

With this post I get to show not only some of my ‘warts of longing and wanderlust’ but an abiding romanticism that has tagged along with me through my life. The Piano Bar Is symbolic of some younger years when I was going to live forever, a time when I could play out fantasies and dramatic ‘movie scenes’ of a lonely and desperate man, a time when the amber juices made me not so lonely and desperate…when a young lady fell prey to my somber moans of despair, often leading from The Piano Bar to my hotel or motel room. My symbolism here likely matches well with many a fellow comrade seeking nebulous new beginnings. Those who might ‘wonder’ about a moral character issue, the ‘Romantic’ can quickly dispel the issue – given the time!

I’m not going to write in much detail about those nomadic days, my longings, my searching, my quaint poetry (also known as my etchings). Instead, I give you a song, a composition in my head and heart from some contemplative and mystic area of being I shall never fully comprehend. In some ways the song might remind many of Billy Joel’s ‘Piano Man’ song… That was never my intent to intrude on Billy’s very special material. In fact, Billy Joel’s song never entered my mind until later…besides, Billy Joel is a professional at what he does…and it’s likely okay with him if a guy wants to make a fool of himself.

The reason for my amateurish ballad piece is this: we have a beautiful house which we (my wife and I) have decorated. In our den over the fireplace mantel there is a colorful painting of a piano. As I type away on my laptop the blogs and the current book on which I’m working I constantly pause and look at that painting. At the end of the day I occasionally have one highball (usually a rum concoction of one sort or another), and, with each sip and loss of one or more brain cells, Bacchus stimulates me to sing aloud the words as I gaze at my piano painting…several times, until I feel I’ve captured the soul prompt. Here are those words

Play Me a Tune, Piano Man

Play me a tune, piano man…

Sing me a song from the years.

Play me a tune, piano man…

Bring back the joy and the tears.

Make all the words sad and lonely…

Sung whiskey tenor with heart.

Sing them all warm and embracing.

Keep the crowd rapt from the start.

Now give the keys some gaiety…

Give the crowd reason to smile.

Play ‘til the bar room is closing,

‘Last Call’, folks, for a while.

Play me a tune, piano man…

Sing me a song from the years.

Play me a tune, piano man…

Bring back the joy and the tears.

Song written and sung by: Billy Ray Chitwood – October 23, 2014

Now, if you wish to actually hear me sing the song A Capella, move the mouse on over to: https://goo.gl/FPGYH6. (You Tube)- booing and laughing are permitted since I cannot hear you hurting my tender feelings…my wife left the den when she heard the song – she never told me later that she had a need to retch… 

That’s it, music lovers! Please return to your favorite pastime! (Think I’ll write another song…)

Hope you will visit my Website: 

http://brchitwood.weebly.com 

Preview my 14 books, a few book reviews, and some comments by the author.

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