Crushing ’til fragrant
Pours summer’s sweet vessel
Desert the mortar
His raindrops a pestle
Sunlight his oven
Bakes peach cobbled skies
Stained with blackberry clouds
As the crust starts to rise
The Uninvited Guest
Someone crashed our dinner party.
My wife and I and the couple we invited stared at the stranger as we all sat in the living room, sipping coffee or tea. Something about him looked familiar. He looked as if he had been to my house before. Maybe that’s why no one questioned him when he walked in the front door in his nondescript clothes and unremarkable appearance. He just sat down, smiled, was polite, and hardly said a word.
Or at least that was my perception of the stranger. My guests however, reacted differently.
Neighbor Phil took a big sniff and smiled when the stranger walked in. Phil claimed the character was as loud as his over-the-top Hawaiian shirt and plaid pants. Later, Phil said he and the stranger were trading quips all evening. I didn’t see or hear any of that.
However, Phil’s wife, Marlene, thought the stranger was repulsive. She put her hand over her nose and recoiled when the man walked into the room. Later she told us that the man smelled like he hadn’t taken a bath in a while, and his dirty purple shirt had grease stains. And rude! Marlene said that when she reached to stab a goat-cheese appetizer with a toothpick, the stranger knocked her hand out of the way and grabbed three pieces with his fingers. And there was dirt under his fingernails.
My wife smiled at the man, because she thought he was my friend. Later, though, she told me something was unsettling about him. Who comes to a casual dinner party in a three-piece suit, she reasoned, unless they are going to steal something?
I do not understand what my guests saw in the stranger. My wife keeps telling me it’s because I have no sense of smell.
I smudge my home
with white sage
I move room to room
watching the smoke
slowly twirl into
cervices and corners.
I feel the cleansing
stale thoughts and feelings
that get stuck
making you stuck
making you stink
wither trapped dying.
The fragrance lingers
the smoke floats away
leaving a freshness
purifying the space
mind body soul
Talking with TeaTree.
Why are you always in my room? It's creepy.
To have a roommate?
The fact I don't have one.
How is that scary?
First of all, I said creepy, not scary.
That's not the point-
Then what's the point?
THE POINT IS-
Why are you yelling?
The point is, I don't have a roommate, right?
Right, so why are you always here?
I don't know.
Okay, so if you are here, then why does no one else ever notice you?
Wow, that's creepy!
I know right?! It's almost like that's what I have been trying to tell you!
Then why didn't you just say that?
Oh, I get it now.
You are so annoying.
I'm sorry. All I want to do is help you.
I know you think too much. You get so stressed, the thoughts push against your head, and it hurts you so much.
I just want to help you.
I want to take the pain away, I want to calm you down.
You're so sweet.
I thought I was annoying?
Yeah, you are. Annoying, but sweet.
one of my grandfather's chess sets was ornately carved, with scrimshaw on the whites and careful etching on the frame. the pieces were all hand carved, none was alike, black and white, king or pawn. strangely, it smelled of talcum powder. i have a strong memory of playing with this subtle, light, ellusive scent. it is much rarer today. barbers and hair salons stopped using it, so is it discontinued from being used as a deoderant or certainly as baby powder. perhaps it is one of those things that are gone for good. but once i catch it, i go back to the good old, toxic days, where chemistry was mostly unknown in its consequence.
sniffing a chess board, i must have scared my grandfather..
i was born
without a sense of smell.
the aromas that
the other children danced with
were ones i never got to meet.
there was no telltale sign
of past rain.
there was no birthday morning
with the smell of bacon.
i never got to befriend
the candles my mom put out
or meet up with
the smell of my dad
i never made friends with the smells in my life
because i never even knew they were there.
i watch people laugh as
they recall their childhoods
with just a twitch of the nose.
some people say smells are like
forever keeping you company
and reminding of good times.
if that's true,
then i have no friends.
but it's never bothered me
because i never had any
to begin with,
and maybe i'm better
on my own.
maybe i won't have friends to laugh with
to play with,
to love with.
but i also won't have poisoned friends,
bad smells, bad memories, full of
toxic waste and
i had no choice
in the way that i am.
i guess my very essence
repels those who might wish
to befriend me.
if smells were friends, then
i'd have none.
but at least i don't have
california smells different
a musky smell of dusty palm trees
swaying in time to shallow desires of fame
cigarettes put out on cement sidewalks
people sighing about social dilemmas
and fashion choices
the los angeles streets running all the way upstate
into car windows and our collective consciousness
san francisco ocean waves
the boardwalk a pale fire at sunset
sand dispersed in waves of contemplation
a sadness and promise of better things
to come to those
who saw this state
as a re-do and new start
we may have five senses
but within the workings of just one
from just a simple essence...
a powder, light in the air
sits in my heart; love- the measure of a ton
Este Lauder - Youth Dew
four generations of us -struck down
the very whisp of it intoxicating joy
in it’s presence, not even grief can be found
it has a hint of dust to it-
in it’s purest form
and maybe a bit of the chemistry
when on her skin was worn
Never over powering
how delicate it must have been applied
it’s fragrance still now lingers
as if she were still alive
her children loved it
and their’s did too
all the great-grandchildren
in common we all have -
the scent of Youth Dew
It fills me with memories
the smell- warms my soul
her last box & puff, I have-
wrapped secure, as if of gold
Sometimes I will open the lid
not lean in too close
let the silky powder free
to find it’s way to my nose
It smells like love and tenderness-
like holidays and joy
it smells like kindness,
through the nose- right to the heart
lingering on all the grandkids
the girls and the boys
It is a scent that wakes your brain
one that will never leave me
charming and old fashioned
she wore the scent since 1953
Side car to this, showed up in a Google question
What does Estée Lauder Youth Dew smell like?
If you do know Youth Dew, you know that it smells viciously balsamic, almost like sweet motor oil — not a scent you might associate with cookies, knitting, & other traditionally grandmotherly pursuits
My Gram was entirely unlike all other traditional grandmothers, so that made me especially happy after missing her so.
I inhale the musty smell of this old house
it embraces me with its dry skin
we sit and tell stories about this basement
where we played when we were kids
and grew to lose control over life
Its familiarity eases my mind
and it reminds me about when
we forgot to hide the wine
and how we'd always lose track of time
our parents didn't mind
It then turned quiet, seeming sad
beginning to cry, it told me
it just misses being around us
but it's okay old friend
thanks for having me, soon I'll visit again