i enter the great caravan park in disguise
i lay before you ladies and gentlemen
iridescent summer in iridescent pastel
the tents of yesteryears crammed full of memory
my australian idyllic place where i hide
there is no such place
it was once before me
it is now clearly behind me
the sea meets the carnival nights
all those kids coming out with their mums and dads
i saw a kid called vickers in a red shirt and long white pants
i was shocked at how grown up he looked
the carousel throbbing in my head
i kissed a girl from a catholic school
i swam in the sea pool alone in the night under a lonely light
this was my summer to claim or to blame
i owned that summer in the city by the sea smile
it was my summer everyone could have probably seen that
i was speeding in my fathers white cars
speeding through the naked streets behind the towns
speeding in the long lanes of shadow thrown by the sea towers
i was crashing in darkness in cinemas on stuffy airless nights
we fidgeted through god save the queen
but i digress it was a long time ago
now that i wander in summer my self
my new self my good self somewhat improved
the smell of that old suntan lotion in the distance i grant you
the sky is brighter though and more overbearing
its blueness threatens to burst in the sky
then afternoons move into fog and latitudes of softest warmest rain
as sweet as scarlets murmured kisses she says daddy i love you
or maybe it was the windows catching in the wind
but there is no wind
the summer night is still
pregnant perhaps with tomorrow
a summer day complete with the losers n champs
the beer will flow the children will wait
the mowing of a lawn
the hammer far away
theres a pool in that backyard darling
just on your tiptoes there can you see it
yes i see it oh its beautiful
summer is my thing look i can sell it back to you
my summer is in word and paint and song
my summer last all year long
my summer of strange colour
my summer of sand in the bed
my summer of drama my summer of pine trees
my forest of summer at the back of the yard
the mosquito bites are starting to itch
my freckly skin gone a bit pink in the sun
this rockpool has a clue for me
its indecipherable but still its a clue
in the backstreets of another bondi arm in arm
the summer people evaporate at my whim
i cast a storm upon the busy streets
but still the rain is soft
softer than anything else in this world
summer isnt fun when everyone you knew is gone
hang around in the market
i buy a shirt i never wear
the guy seemed so nice and i couldnt say no
he told me so much about the shirt
it would have been churlish not to buy it
it hangs in the wardrobe accusingly i sometimes think
i wonder if i should wear it
i try it on and it looks stupid
but in my summer of summers where all the boardshorts fit perfectly
the lights have changed and the baby rain has slowed to a mild fuzz
i’m having a milkshake in a cafe somewhere there
chatting up a couple of girls staying just over the bridge
and one of ems nice and one of ems not
the nice one says something nice
the not nice one saying something not nice
in bewilderment i turn on her quickly and rude
i say something quite nasty and stupid
and both of you stand of up and get ready to leave
you really are as bad as my friend makes you out
i sit in my summer alone but its nice
i mean my heart is wounded so it listens to songs on the jukebox
songs about guys with broken hearts just like mine
and i find a sense of sweetness and purpose
and a sense of necessity in all of those songs
those songs that some guy wrote for some woman
and she goes and leaves him or dies from OD
those songs about the loneliness of empty rooms
an empty old bed as the summer sun waves goodnight
in my summer of love love is elusive
in my summer of youth i imagined them up
summer of mercy
summer of mornings
summer of evenings ripped from a film
summer of heat summer of pain
summer of upheaval summer of null
crystallised summer in packets of lollies
i bid you all now sweet summer dreams
my head is so heavy
the night is forgiving
let it go on forever
forever and ever
amen
Absolutely Beautiful !!!
There is nothing more precious in this world than when one of your angels whispers their love in to your ear for only you to hear, for you to feel more special than any living breathing creature in the entire universe…and with a soft gentle kiss, they reinforce their unconditional love upon you.
My sweet Kristina melts my heart when she does the same exact thing.
Have a great weekend Steve, everyone…
AzAlwayz,
Darrin JK
Love the painting, has this just recently been completed ???
a lovely creation…
i wait at the station
honeysuckle and fresh daisies
who’s leaving, who’s staying?
fresh bread from the bakery
my soul is exclaiming
the Light is communicating
the brightness is saturating
renewal is captivating
we’re celebrating
right now and for the time being
…amen…
While you slept, I enjoyed wandering about in your summer. I was careful and most mindful not to disturb anything; it was already so well dreamed.
Turn your head to the summer sun and the shadows will fall behind you…
All the best
Günter
I love this reminiscence/dream.
Beautiful, warm, comforting, and kind of bittersweet all at once. Very well done.
I love the painting, too.
It conveys that warm and soft feeling of summer.
The hint of haziness really works with that.
Interesting how the iridescence here helps bring out the feeling of warmth, but (in other works) can also bring out an icy cold. Excellent!
(ps — make sure to sign and date it.
)
Simply beautiful.
In the thick of winter here where I live and reading this is a warm spot in my day. Thanks.
Excellent. Damn, beyond excellent. A fellow Church fan once told me you have a way with words. So true. A flood of my own memories of summers gone by, most melancholy and bittersweet, rushing in. Beautiful blog. You should enter it in a contest. I’m sure it would win hands down.
The painting is incredible. I want it. You captured your own soul, you devil. Perhaps it shall do a doory in grey.
It’s almost always summer here, but it isn’t the same as the summers in Boston with my parents and grandparents, swimming ecstatically all day, then listening to the Red Sox game on the radio in the carport when the afternoon rain came (soft…very soft). Mum made the salad and Dad grilled the steaks…and then jigsaw puzzles on the back porch and Neil Diamond on the old console stereo and lots of sweet iced tea.
Ah. I’d love to go back for just one day. Then again, it’s part of me, so I guess I am there already.
Good heavens, there was almost a collision. I was thinking ‘sherbert summer’ and reading ‘summer… summmer…summer’ and then I read something about crystals in a lolly packet… a bit like me meeting a nice and not nice guy, perfect match for nice and not nice girl.
There was nearly a collision – I was thinking sherbert summer before I read something about crystals in a lolly bag… a bit like how I met a nice and not nice guy… nicely balanced.
And so it continues…
Abstract Illusion 12012
Sitting at the window staring down
Listening to the people shuffling around
I smile for the children who are laughing
The morning breeze sunlight just warms my skin
The brisk frozen air quickly touchs my lungs
A nearby bird sings it’s final song.
A room without a view
They are looking at me they are looking through you
The boundries for wisdom
Lye unlocked in the solitude of
a nowhere kingdom.
AzAwayz,
Darrin JK
I’m certain every reader regardless of age/gender or growing up in the southern or northern hemispheres can relate in some way to this melancholic and joyful meandering account of what we all have shared, ‘ A Summer’ and ‘Youth’. Thank you for sharing those memories.
As you know; that window was never catching. You didn’t believe that for one second. Hold that vision forever. It has now become a part of you.
To be quick only one short quote:
Each day provides its own gifts.
Marcus Aurelius.
Take care Mr K and Family
around here we don’t make mistakes, just happy little accidents (O;
the stuff you draw from your imagination is awsome enough.
but this………….
your summer is THE summer.
liking the new stylee of the pic too.
you’re really spoiling us with this work….thank-you.
Beautiful writing killa. The details and imagery are perfectly captured. Stuff like this is so dead on: “sand in the bed”,”the smell of that old suntan lotion in the distance” etc. Love this line, i can totally relate to that feeling: “it hangs in the wardrobe accusingly i sometimes think”
Oh, and the pastel is really really nice. you’re getting good at this stuff. it’s got just the right light and softness and colours.
Leaves me pastelized, iridescentized, scarletized and deep blue-ized…
To sum up it leaves me summerized.
Summuh(Summer)…mmmm mmmm mmmmmhhh!
summers that you have as a kid are (unfortunately) nothing like the summers of maturity….