I was wandering around the internet, and found a site that
reviews Tiki Rooms. I vaguely remember going to such a
restaurant long ago. Where it might have been located, I
do not remember. I was just a kid at the time. Or maybe
its a vague rememberence of some old film noir scene.
Maybe it was just a dream.

Anyway, a most interesting site:
Its not exactly a PG site... slightly over PG rating in places.

(unfortunately, it appears to have vanished, and no boojums in
sight. Link not posted this time.)

Anyways, I was inspired to write this.

[ Copyright 2002. All Rights Reserved. ]

Now, Tiki bars and restaurants,
can be hard to find,
and you may literaly have to travel,
long distances to find one,
only to be disappointed,
or maybe not as thrilled as you would like to be,
as the name of it seems to imply,
Tiki means more than a grass skirt bolted to the wall,
but once in a long while,
you find the pearl in the oyster shell.

Now, since folks started travelling in space,
wholesale and in box car lots,
most places that are unique,
the space tourist business,
is on an upward run,
things that most folks feel are,
odd-ball restaurants and bars,
got somehow lost in the shuffle,
they want something bland, to remind them of Home,
but I heard tell,
of a portable Tiki bar.

Now he don't have much,
in the way of decor,
for it has to fit,
in something resembling a mix between,
a roadster and a recreational vehicle !

Kinda hard to visualize I'm sure,
I was kinda three sheets to the wind,
when the walls started moving around,
I figured it was time to head home,
and call a taxi,
and he said
'Never mind that ! Help me watch for railroad trains !'

So I did.

Its just one room, kinda,
in his mobility home.

Made up with some bamboo curtains,
and a Squawking Mai Tai or three,
and some small light Tiki heads,
here and yon.

The sign on the door,
says 'Private Residence ! Keep Out !'

But if the moon is just right,
and the ocean isn't miles away,
he'll invite you in,
and his metal girl friend,
will serve the drinks.

At least I think she is made of metal,
I'm not too sure.

Heck, the Wurlitzer winked at me,
at least I think it did...

I usually find the place,
when I'm three sheets to the wind.

He doesn't have a liquor license,
he just gives the booze away,
but ya gots to be 21 years old,
or you'll never find him anyways.

The only real problem I've been having,
is I keep losing my car,
and it turns up in the least likely places,
I ever did see.

Like the time my old wooden station wagon,
would up parked near Angor Wat !

I thought I had left it at Marsport,
how about that ?

He claims I didn't tie it tight enough,
to the hitchin' post outside,
othewise it will fall out,
as the portable Tiki bar moves around,
whenever it feels like it,
and pretend it actually belonged where it parked.

The busies are always looking for him,
their noses so blue,
must be the cold of Outer Space,
makes them that way.

[whispered]
I hear he is moving,
out Callisto way.

Things are getting kinda hot,
in orbit around Phobos.

When the moons shine over Jupiter and Saturn,
in that South Pacific way,
you can find him,
listen for that music,
coming over your space suit radio,
just look for that invisible sign,
on the door,
saying 'Tiki Hideaway !'

from my Christmas Card, 2000 AD

a poem of hope.

[ Copyright 2000. All Rights Reserved. ]

In the distance,
a new skating rink doth appear,
in the distance,
holiday lights bring cheer,
'round about the little skating rink,
no one appears.

The skating rink is lonely,
it just abides.

It hears the footsteps,
of a single skater nearby,

The skater,
with gleaming skates,
looks over the lonely rink,
abiding there,
in the distance,
a shout is heard,
from the popular new skating rink,
which the little skating rink fears.

The skater smiles,
there in the dimness,
and sits down,
and puts on her skates,
and talks to the little skating rink.

"I'll bet you are all lonely,
sitting here in the dark,
at the Deep Dark end,
of the park.

>From a distance,
I saw you from afar,
I think you are a good place to skate,
I have traveled far !"

With that the woman touched the skate rim,
and smiled.

She looked at the ice,
it had not been well tended.
She could easily see,
it could cause her to fall,
with the greatest of ease,
but she walked out onto it anyway.

And skate she did.

Swooping and leaning,
into the breeze !

A chuckle,
escaped her lips,
as a few stars,
seemed to lighten the ice,
in this,
the Deep Dark end of the Park,

They sparkled like diamonds,
up there in the sky !

In the distance,
the lights did sparkle,
in the bright part of the park !

Such frivolity,
over there !

But the woman skating,
and the little ice rink,
enjoyed their companionship,
there in the park !

And it did respond to her joy !

It formed loops,
and curclicues !

And hills and curves !

Oh, if you could have seen them,
there,
in the Deep Dark part of the Park !

And she asked,
the little ice skating rink,
if it wanted to do this,
all the year ?

And,
in its way,
it said, yes.

And she smiled,
and turned into a woman,
made of Crystal Ice !

For she was the Snow Queen !

She lived on a distant plane,
of existance,
and had been looking,
for an ice skating rink,
to take back home !

The next day,
the park crew,
came by,
to tear up,
the little ice skating rink,
and found,
instead,
a note,
which said,
"Good-bye ! Its been fun !"
etched into the concrete.

They didn't understand,
except the oldest one there,
who,
some would explain,
was part Elf,
and probably had something,
to do with the rink's magical disappearance,
but he would just smile,
and put his index finger,
beside his red nose,
and chuckle,
and feed his 12 reindeer,
at the end of his work day.

We put flowers on my mother's grave today. May 25

[ Copyright 2008. All Rights Reserved. ]

Small dusty town,
it was a hub along the highway,
years ago,
railroad and bus depot,
in the town,
it had a farmers' market,
next to the department store,
in the one large parking lot,
in the town.

There was a small USO there,
back in WW 2,
there was a high school girl working there,
selling soda pop for 5 cents,
burgers for 15 cents,
and fries for 5 cents,
she is my mom.

The ceiling fans keep up,
a breeze,
but the air-conditioner is broken,
it might get fixed next week.
the front door was open
to give a bit of a breeze,
the small creek flows by,
out the back,
sounds kinda nice,
if it wasn't so hot.

If you went there,
in the long ago,
they had chess, checkers,
and ping pong to play.

Maybe a game of cribbage,
or gin rummy,
while listening to Glen Miller,
on the radio.

But hanging over them,
was the chance they would,
get shipped out just any day.

Guys would ask her,
if she would please write them,
they had no one to write to, Please?

So she did,
some wrote one letter,
or several and she never,
heard from them again,
sometimes another guy,
from the same unit,
would stop by,
or write,
and tell her Joe was gone,
or missing in action.

Some did survive,
and wrote.

But they sometimes stopped
writing to,
no reason why.

The ones who wrote,
or came by,
after someone from their
unit had died or gone missing,
asked her to keep writing,
they had enjoyed her letters so much,
Here is a dollar for postage,
a letter costing 3 cents back then,
thank you so much.

After the war,
she met my dad there,
he was a P.O.W.

The USO closed at that location,
years ago,
they moved across the town square,
for Korea, but its gone,
these many years,
boards on the windows,
as that small town fades away.

Late one night,
on the television show,
I heard a reporter say,
"And so it goes."

She died last year,
it was a nice funeral.

[ exit ]

The poems posted so far to my new nucleus blog are from 1998 and 1999 AD.

I'll add more, as I have time

Moving my blog from WP to Nucleus.

Oct 25, 2008