by Fred Nicholson | Sep 9, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
How can we go up, while the movement outside the window is going down? Dad and Ma and us four(at the time) kids had lugged the heavy suitcases through the snow, to our new home. We pushed through the heavy green outside door,. Ma pushed a gold button on the lobby...
by Fred Nicholson | Sep 9, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
Over the Rainbow My friend said to write a piece titled ‘Over the Rainbow’.My mind enclosed those words like a Venus Fly Trap and that was almost end of story. I bristled when first seeing her words. Don’t know why. Maybe this! Rainbows were once...
by Fred Nicholson | Sep 5, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Love is the Answer, Stories
Before the apple bite I AM the rain, the dark, the light,the black white christian jewbuddhist muslim otherfather motherme and you. Oneness is as much an illusionas Goddesses Gods Saviorsall of the Higher Powersand imagined others. The 5 basic senses can not...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 29, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
I hope fully that it’s not the last, because ‘last’ has been crossing my mind a lot these days. A lot compared to what/when?When the d words (demise, destruct, delete) hover,like gulls above the ferry, waiting for a tasty morsel. Scene...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 23, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
I was 4 paragraphs into writing this note.My fingers reacted quicker than this mind,and deleted the recorded thoughts.(Guess I needed to start anew.)So here we go again. Reggie, me and Kaia.Reggie was the first canine. A Miniature SchnauzerBuddha companion. The...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 23, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
What am I capable of? I didn’t know I was capable of being more at home with dogs than with people. For about 20 years I lived with canines, exclusively. Exclusively with people after Vietnam (hmmm . . . had to open some dusty folders), six or 7 years. I...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 19, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
Netflix. Woodstock. just watched Netflix, Woodstock.Got emotional. Tears rolling freelyto below my lips. It talks about free love. I missed all that free love.I got back in ’68, 1 year afterI left, minus a few days. Going to Woodstock was a dreamon my...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 13, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
I feel . . .I feel lifeI feel loss don’t know deathso can’t feel ittoday I saw bright flowers,picked blue berries,(a mixing bowl full) visited my VA doctorordered a creamy breve,served by a sensuous woman. walked around the gardenate a few cherry...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 11, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
Vietnam, a long agostill changing story.be hear live now. war is warnot confined to yesteryearor even yesterday. You want war?Have a ‘my way’ fight. I’m right. No. I’m right. you want war?It’s not mine to givereceive accept whatever...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 9, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
In my back yardwe round them upand send them backacross the border In the newsthey bulldoze housesbecause the earth has value,not the homes of others In my back yardfathers and sons are killedand dragged and lynchedand jailed just because In the newsolive orchards...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 7, 2019 | All Mixed Up, Fred Nicholson, Stories
a Longtime friend A longtime friend sends you a Happy Birthday FB post. You laugh out loud because today is May 30th, exactly 30 days before your burfdae. You respond with a FB message, to avoid embarrassing S. ‘Hi S. You are 30 days early. My burfdae is on June...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 7, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
Welcome home (week 2 of 10) a Preface to your welcome home.This time as a baby boy. So many homes you just don’t know about, but each return visit HERE is different. You may appear as a tree, apple, gold, nugget, fish, deranged nut job, dingle berry, hair...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 5, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
Here’s a liddle story for you.Thirty odd (may have been even) years ago, I got a book for a dollar. ‘Tongues of Fire’ by Grace H. Turnbull, copyright 1929, off of a dusty Strand Book Store shelf. Loved the quiet. Loved the floor space, low pace,...
by Fred Nicholson | Aug 4, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
Magic is being here alive and continuing on. For years there was a recurrent dream/nightmare of me, as an adult being nailed inside of a coffin. Always waking up in a sweat. The last time I was with C at my place, I think. C and I had smoked some pot and were...
by Fred Nicholson | Jul 14, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Fredisms
News flash!(on inheritance) Look at all the folks (from babies on up) staring into rectangular appendages. We already got them,the robots. With a little more programming,forget about manufacturing them. We are them! f201
by Fred Nicholson | Jun 22, 2019 | Fred Nicholson, Stories
there has been duty, quiet, tearsand just now I am sad, alone, emptyNo, not alone. Lonely! Sure, there are words, the garden,projects in no distinct order. Breathe, look around. What’s missing? The warmth of an other. There is no otherbeyond words and thought....
