Theda The Bohemian Brahman

On January 19, 2018January 19, 2018 By dancingpalmtreesIn Theda The Bohemian Brahman, Uncategorized

Theda The Bohemian Brahman

Theda The Blasphemer

Adorned with a garland of scented skulls

Kick up your heels doing the Charleston

Red Lips, Big Saucer Eyes. white Knickers against Bronzed Sepia skin.

The Shrine of Broken Wings resides in Zanzibar

Beside each set of wings lie broken dreams

She smells like Angst with just a Touch of Madness

Engaged in strange Tribal Muttering Customs

She being an Exploded Being

Blame it on the Bossa Nova

He was just a DC Slacker who made his fortunes on the backs of many a Lonely Lioness. He from the money tribe pulled up in Rosalie’s Red Roadster. Gigolo no shame.

Charming Witty Evil Court Jester

His only Desire– That Spicy Honeydew Goodness Betwixt Her Lower Limbs.

At Climax She bit Her Lips so forcibly that Crimson Claret Fountained Her Face.

His constant refrain, “I wanted to go to Rosemary but they took me to a shrew.

After The Apocalypse Bouncing strange Voicing to Zed Beats and Bouncy Zombie Boys.

Ladies Have a care in getting too close a neighborhood lest you risk being impaled upon their prickly porcupine spiky spears.

She seeking seed for the future. He milking her teats for temporary sustenance. He can only offer transient subsistence. A Male dispenser of convoluted Fairey knots that has entrapped many a Fine Minx both pliable and stone. He a Chemist/Alienist of Ye Olde Pheromone Chemistry Shoppe

He a Supplier of Bodily Satisfaction for he seeks no soul to reach for he leaves as soon as he is done……. Leaving her behind in an Archaic Thatched Cottage where no one had thought to change the calendar in 18 years.

I Put a Spell on You

In the End there will be No Flowers or Pinwheels on Her Graves

Reoccurrent Songs Jumble Over and Over

Half of My Heart is in Havana

Skeleton Dance

Bat Dance | Prince

Silence | The Daily Post

On January 19, 2018 By dancingpalmtreesIn The Evergreens, The Evergreens Brooklyn, NY, Uncategorized11 Comments

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/silence-2/

The Evergreens, Brooklyn, NY

The of the silence of the Graveyard.

A place we will all be some day.

The End of the Body we once knew then the beginning of a New Adventure in Paradise.

Reunion with family members.

I Love Cemeteries and Graveyards. One of the few places to Enjoy Silence, Peace and Isolation.

The Silence of the Necropolis.

Return of the Prodigal Daughter: Series Three

On January 18, 2018January 1, 2018 By dancingpalmtreesIn 924 Belmont Avenue, Coney Island, Coney Island Cyclone, Coney Island Mermaid Parade, JoyBaieda Rueine, Return of the Prodigal Daughter: Series Three, Uncategorized

Return of the Prodigal Daughter: Series Three

Saga of JoyBaieda Rueine

924 Belmont Avenue ~~ Brooklyn, New York

Once the Amusement activities ended thus began Winged Garuda who brought the Initiatory Tones. Twinned Flutists paired one higher in elevation than the other but each in sync with the other. Kinship of the Elder lifts up and protects the younger. Beginning One Pulse. Pause. Two Pulse. Pause. Half Pulse. End. In this way the meeting place and all in attendance were Blessed.

Le Gui and Laila Piscatorious miraged upon the scene bringing with them their aquatic environment in suspended animation above the group. In his seductive voice with a grin and a chuckle Le Gui announced Representatives from Mer-Land All Present and Accounted For!”

Mer-Land was once a Dominion called Coney Island. Now a bit split off from the mainland but still essential to the Lands. Each district of Mer-Land was governed by it’s own unique Merlin. Dominions. Territories. Districts. Orderly Chaos. That was the 22nd Century.

My Heart is in Havana

Quantico and Flowering Inferno

In the midst of the work who should tumble out of the ether but Sir Frederick! He landed rather ungracefully with big Kaflump! Sir Frederick or Rick as he liked to be called seemed a bit startled looking out of place in an area where he had not expected to be. As though he was in the midst of one action and quite suddenly lifted into another.

“I felt the pull through the process of flow but tried to put it off on finishing that last Cheesy fries which were not sitting well and at war with my digestive system. Yours is the strongest power of Realization I’ve met in over 100 years.”

I had used all my Initiation Tone to draw forth all strong enough to meet the challenge.

Some only saw him as a fop or a dandy but within lay the intellect of many genius and the strength of multiple Warriors. In secret a Scarlet Pimpernel and Zorro of bronzed sepia hues.

Fredrick H. Halstead_Sept. 6, 1898_Little's Brother — Fredrick H. Halstead_Sept. 6, 1898

Agile | The Daily Post

On January 17, 2018January 17, 2018 By dancingpalmtreesIn 2002 Graduation from Marymount Manhattan College, Marymount Manhattan College, Uncategorized18 Comments

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/agile/

The last time that I was super Agile was back in my Army Days. I was extremely agile and in excellent physical condition. Anything that the Army demanded or need to do physically I could do it. Those were my glory days. Even after I got out of the Army in Nov. 1981 I was still in great shape. This continued well into my early 40s. I did have the beginnings of arthritis but except for menstrual cramps and sometimes acne I was in fantastic condition.

1978 Augsburg, Germany

Deborah Ann Palmer U.S. Army 1977-1981

During my late 30s and early 40s I had the strength and energy to earn my BA in English from Marymount Manhattan College. I Was Powerful!!

Marymount Manhattan College 2002 Graduation photo

Fast forward to Nov. 2008 — Stroke. Actually I probably was having small strokes beginning at age 47. My vision was off and but I still continued to drive and made believe that I was okay. At the time I was unemployed so No health insurance therefore No doctors. Jan. 2008 I started working at the museum and had a stroke while at work. My bosses forced me to go to the hospital. I lost most of the vision in my left eye. I won’t go into the ugly details.

This was the end of my Agility.

Either last week or two weeks ago I was nearly pushed down the subway steps. This is one of my greatest fears since I have very poor depth perception. Usually when I get off the train I wait for the maddening crowds to go up the stairs first. Actually this near fall down the subway steps occurred when I was going down the steps not up but either way I leave early for work then step to the side because people are always in a mad rush! Also now I have shortness of breath so I need to rest before going up or down stairs/steps.

Over the years I’ve come to hate all stairs and steps. My ideal dream would be to live in a place with just ramps or on one level. The Aging process is slowly but surely taking away my ability to do the things I want to do. Therefore the older I get the less I socialize and tend to stay home on weekends especially in the winter when falling is a major concern. Next month I’ll be 59 and I will be staying safe at home!

The Death of Agility.

Secrets and Murders in the Blue Room

On January 17, 2018January 18, 2018 By dancingpalmtreesIn A Night In Tunisia, Art Blakey, Dexter Gordon, Secrets and Murders in the Blue Room, Uncategorized4 Comments

The Blue Bed

Blue Bed Aitken Galleries British Period Rooms

https://youtu.be/gfLVVHxk4IM

Secrets of the Blue Room

Magnificent Bed Chambers built for the Arousal of a King who never came. At least not in this bed. Many were the amusements of the Monarch. Well known for spreading his seed in every village, town and port of call. Awaiting his Majesty to Christen the springs in hopes of numerous heirs to the throne.

Though tis rumored that the Lord and Lady of the Original House were murdered in said bed. No Scarlet Pimpernel arrived for their rescue. For the mark of Zorro heralded their demise.

Two Old Grandfather Clocks Chime quarter hours slightly off sync in Church fashion of Call and Response

First Off I don’t know why they built and shipped such an ornate bed a blue monstrosity to this hot dank humid climate? The Humidity cloaks the atmosphere like a Misty Foggy blanket. These islands are just swamps inhabited by misery and strife. Trying to make good impressions long after the opportunity has passed.

The sheer fragility makes one hesitant to mix sweat and semen. The languid heat infuses already heavy air pushing aside lust in favor of a cook refreshing draft.

Rot and insects will have a better time conducting ultimate deconstruction within weak timbers. It’s untold comforts belie creakiness and stiff joints.

More of a Silky Satiny Blue Mausoleum than a Lovers Nest. A place for ravens and crows to pluck out the feathers, straw and hay hidden within the fancy done up mattress. No Scions of Industries conceived upon such extravagance and Luxury. Yet Musky aromas abound. Time Traveling Hobos and Vagabonds wander through the past occasionally sticking their heads out into the present. Shadows ache from moving sloth-like across the walls. Their progress impended lights and darkness.