Zawmb’yee Nuje Writes A Poem, ” Extravasation In The Field “

Extravasation In the Field

Whenever fields of day are parched,
the nightly river flows for me
and pleases all my fantasies

In day
my sheep are gone and all
my parchments written.

But there’s a river in my dreams
and I do see
my captain drenched, though

All my fields are barren now
I will dig my trenches.

By day I build an irrigation ditch
and thirst for him to fill it

He’ll be my only river guest
who has me on his manifest.

If tomorrow he will be with me
nightly river flow for me

for if I wake in flooded fields
in gush of conversation

his swim to me
I know will be
a grand extravasation

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Zawmb’yee Nuje Writes A Poem, ” Walking With Doug “

Walking With Doug by Zawmb’yee Nuje

On a sunny sign day across the street
the sign said WALK ye
carefully, and we did
across the street into honking,
dodging the cars that trapped themselves
in intersections at change of light, we
swirling about a hot dog stand line, and
pushing our way where
pedestrian streams flowed
our way towards the park

I think we passed the building
with trees on every terrace, and
the buses faced us at every stop
their unloading commotions, their
boarding confused hordes
looking for cards and change

But mostly I didn’t notice if
there were gems in the din, or
new fashions in the store windows, no, mostly,
I listened to the music of Doug’s chatter because
I love the sound of his voice

it comforts me when I hear as I laugh
the song of his voice turning tender, and
I know he loves to be with me

when my word of acknowledgment
makes him smile and pause, I
know he loves me like the humming bird
loves the flower however fast the flutter of his wings
(but I would tell him he’s like a lion), and
I think perhaps I dress to be his nectar

Doug has seen my paint box and asks:
Could this be a Phtalocyanine Blue sky?

‘Huh what’ I wonder, an odd fact
could break a romantic spell
oh well, I laugh

He says, I mean:
it seems like a god has
lent you his brushes, and
you’ve painted my sky. Is it you
who paints my world?

No, I say, it is you who
shines on my tears, penetrates
the rainbow of my feelings and I show you
the canvas of the world as I see it. I look
in your eyes and pray they will see
every color that makes you happy and
if I would be on your palette, brush me

His hand brushed my cheek and touched my lips, but
we collided with a passerby who said, “Idiots!”
But we are not fools to be in love
flowing and in tune with a romantic moment

Doug kissed my hand and
we crashed into a hot dog stand

Doug said we’ll take two with sauerkraut.
Yes, two to go with the day.
Delicious.

Zawmb’yee Becomes High Priestess 101, About Chapter 8

Zawmb’yee continues blog

ENTRY 101

     Doug had said he recognized the passageway to my old sacred quarters when I realized that he could sense that I wasn’t going to invite him to the Kmpamew. “Well,” I quickly said, “I know I said I might invite you to stay at the Kmpamew, but I have all these official things to learn, and uh, well…”
     “Well what?”
     “Actually, the only way you would be allowed into the Kmpamew is if I officially appoint you to some position, um, y’know, like Minister of Finance.”
     “No, I don’t think I could be Minister of Finance.”
     “Or you could marry me…”
     “Uh, um, good luck with your studies, and…”
     “Or you could be my official Lalasaco. ”
     “What’s Lalasaco? ”
     “It’s the Priestess’ official escort or consort or ‘satyr in residence’…”
     Doug hadn’t slept well in days, hadn’t been able to make much progress with his novel, and I think, given his eokxavexa, doubted he’d ever finish. “Yes,” he said, “I suppose I’ll never learn to love truly, never really be of any significant value except to offer a jester’s lust: seductive speculations and a dance for profundity, like a rain dance that never produces rain.” Doug turned away, but I heard him cry as he ran up the far stairs of the corridor, past the children’s art works, and turned toward the stairs that led to the Qukwerpfm, the Cathedral formation, and past the golden stalagmite.
     I had a little silly note that I wrote for Doug, but I never gave it to him. It seemed too absurd, and I didn’t think he could understand it. I don’t know, I’ve always written silly things. I took out a folded up silly paper: “I’ve written many fairy tales, illustrating them in paintings of my heart, but every time I’ve read again , I’ve seen you a vision there, and I have always searched for you, my Prince.” But I don’t want to appear silly. Oh, but I could do with a jest, and why couldn’t he be my laugh if I am in his smile.

Zawmb’yee Becomes High Priestess 100, About Chapter 8

Zawmb’yee continues the blog

ENTRY 100

     After I had just gotten used to all of the turning and tilting, there was a sudden change like we had just reached the top of a basement roller coaster and were about to plunge even further down, and I had grabbed Doug’s leg a few times on the way. A bing-bong noise had sounded. I had said, “What’s that?”
     Doug said, “That means we’ve reached the basement level and will begin a downward plunge.”
     It almost felt like free fall, and I was glad I wasn’t drinking any coffee. “Yow,” I said.
     “Told you it would get faster.”
     Just as I adjusted to the fall, holding Doug’s hand, the train slowed and leveled off. Then there was a buzzing sound. “What’s that?” I asked.
     “It’s the five minute warning. We should go over to the forward-facing G-posh chairs.”
     “You mean we could be thrown off the couch or something onto the carpet?”
     Doug led me over to one of the chairs. He said, “Have a seat. This will cushion the G-forces when we accelerate to super-speed.”
     “This is a joke. Right?”
     “No,” said Doug firmly, and he sat in another cushioned chair.
     “I’d rather sit on the couch,” I said and I ran back to the couch and stretched out.
     Doug said, “Come back quick.”
     “If you insist.” And I mischievously sat on Doug’s lap facing him. The train took off like a jet and I got pushed onto Doug like I weighed a ton — I thought I was going to crush him. Doug tried to get to a seat belt but couldn’t. The train seemed to stop suddenly and I fell backward onto the floor with Doug on top of me. He braced himself with his arms, so it wasn’t too bad.
     Doug kissed me and said, “Are you alright?”
     As he fondled my whole body, I said, “Not now. I’m supposed to see Apacevj. Remember?”
     “Oh yeah. Well we’re here.” And the side doors opened.
     We came out onto a platform with rock walls and no sign of an exit. I said, “Uh, well, we’re here. Where’s here? I have to get to the sacred corridor.”
     “Yes, don’t worry. We just have to open a door. It’s right behind these rocks, somewhere, um.”
     “Where, where?”
     Doug walked along the rock wall. He said, “Uh, yes, right here.”
     “I don’t see a door.”
     “OK. We just do the ‘ka’ sound thing like you taught me once. You know, you make the gargle sound, then the ‘ka’ on the roof of the mouth, and the motor sound through pursed lips until your sinuses vibrate.”
     “Yes, I know that one. ” We did the sound together and adjusted our tones until the beats made a wah-oh-wah-oh sound. I made the same mistake I did the last time and a rock from the ceiling crashed beside us.
     Doug pointed in front of us. He said, “No, focus here.”
     We did it again and a slab of rock rotated on one edge and opened like a door. I could see my paintings through the doorway. We walked into the sacred corridor.

Zawmb’yee Becomes High Priestess 99, About Chapter 8

Zawmb’yee continues the blog

ENTRY 99

     I was dressed in my formal purple dress with the gold embroidery that Doug calls my “Goddess Dress” when I saw that Doug was still at the breakfast table nursing his piece of venison and buffalo fried in duck fat with truffles. I said, “Let’s go. Put that away — you’re only picking at it anyway.”
     “OK… or maybe I should bring it to snack on the way…”
     “The oven and the stove are off. Right?” Let’s just go now. Don’t look so glum — I’ll make you some fresh in the sacred quarters. It’s not as if I’m asking you to defenestrate the baby from the fire.”
     “What?”
     “Like when the Bohemians threw the emperor’s envoys out the window.”
     “Egads, what obscure history that is. OK, OK, this meal is history.”
     “Sorry about that: I’ve always wanted to find a way to mention the ‘Defenestration of Prague.’ I guess, most of history study is a waste of time.”
     “Now, I think they say, ‘throw him under the bus,’ rather than out the window.”
     “I’m not throwing you under the bus. I just want you to show me the train like you promised.”
     “Yes, OK. I’ll go to the bathroom and be back in a second. You look great!”
     “Meet you in the hallway.” And I dashed out. I was standing at the elevator when Doug returned.
     Doug said, “Wait ‘til you see this. Step in.”
     The doors closed. We faced front. Doug pushed STOP.
     I said, “What are you doing?” I looked over to the right where it said ‘Emergency Exit.’ ”
     “No. Here on the left. I’ll stay here and you go to the back of the car and feel along this left wall in the back until you find a slight indentation.”
     I walked to the back and found something. “You mean, this?”
     “Yes. Now wait. I have a matching one here up front. OK. I’ll count to three and we’ll both push together against the wall and then step back.”
     “Step back?”
     “Yes, push and step back. We’re going to push the wall down. The top and sides will release and there’s a hinge on the bottom. Push and step back so you don’t fall forward. OK?”
     “Yes.”
     “Ready. One, two, three, push!”
     “Ugh.” I pushed, trotted back, and almost fell backward. The wall fell and became a platform. Straight ahead was the end car of a subway train. Doug walked out onto the platform to show me that it was safe. He pushed the handle on the door down and opened it for me. I walked across the platform and went through the door. The car was set up like a living room with a couch and a table. Doug came in. We sat on the couch. I said, “Now what?”
     “You see the panel on the armrest? Push Q1”
     “OK.” The car accelerated smoothly to a moderately slow steady speed. “This seems slow — is this going to take a long time?”
     “No. It’s following a downward spiral inside the building. As soon as we reach the basement level and then proceed into the underground bedrock below the building, it’ll speed up. When we’re deep enough, it’ll level off and go fast.”
     I looked out the window, but didn’t see anything except a narrow curved ledge. I could feel the continuous turning of the train, and the downward tilt. “We’re circling around inside the building?”
     “Yes. That’s right.”