Mindlint. The Blog.

Sign Sign

2010-09-04T04:54:00Z

Sign Sign

By
Paul Bass

I had just been handed a note form the principle stating that, if I didn’t stop forgetting to go to school and not doing all my work, she would have no choice but to force me to repeat the 12th grade once more. I was so desperate, I followed her and when i cornered her I began to beg and waller around her feet pleasing, “Please, I have to pass, or my Dad will give the Amway distributorship to someone else!” She merely said, “Please, get out of the women’s bathroom and take your twenty dollar bill with you!”
I did not know what to say. I was basically stuck. I was stuck to the floor. A janitor had to help get me up. As i left and walked down the halls, I began to think, “How am I going to attend school every day for almost two months? That’s unreasonable! Everyone’s going to the beach next week. How do I go to the beach and school at the same time?”
I went to God. I told Him I was in a bind and I needed a sign. “Lord, Show me a Sign! Some kinda sign! So i can know what to do! I can’t fail 12th grade again! I’m already older than the Phys Ed coach. Just give me a sign. Show me ....Please!

I must have yelled really loud and shook the building because part of the ceiling fell and almost hit me on the head. It’s funny, but at a passing glance, the part that fell, kinda looked like a couple of smoldering stone tablets.
I had to get outa’ there real quick before someone would make me pay for the damage. I already owed six dollars for an overdue Hardy Boys book.
I had to walk through some corn fields to get home. It might have been corn, it might have been lettuce. I can’t tell the difference. As I was walking, I just kept thinking, “How am I going to pass 12th grade? There’s gotta be some special way, a certain legality that can help me be on my way to Harvard. Please God, give me a sing!”
It became a rough walk as my train of thought was broken when I happened upon a broken crate of pencils. It must have fallen from a cargo plane. Then the ground cracked and swallowed me up. I would have never gotten out if I hadn’t stuck all those pencils into the sided of the crevasses and used them to scale my way out.
When I got home, the second I walked in the door, my mom started buggin’ me about homework and book reports and stuff. I basically ignored her. I was too busy figuring out what to do about my dilemma. My dad hit me with some chatter too. I didn’t have time for gibberish.
After dinner, a video, some tv and some Super Nintendo, I went to bed. I had a very strange and vivid dream, that I was walking down a road and I came upon a gate that looked like a giant book. On the other side of the gate was large house with a couple of kids and a woman frolicking in the yard. They were playing in a pile of leaves that were actually dollar bills.
I couldn’t get to all this, though. I didn’t have a key to the gate. Along came a kid much younger than I, who used a ball -point pen to open the gate. I tired to squeak through, but BAM the book shut. Then a voice came out of the intercom box saying, “You gotta go tot school,. You gotta go to school.”
Then I woke up to my dad standing over me saying, “Wake up. You gotta go to school.”
My first thought when I got ready was, “What am I gonna do about school?” Then I came up with a plan. I figured that I would tell the principal that my uncle is real sick and he’s expected to die any day. Would it be possible that, in the case of his sudden death, I could miss a day to pay my respects?
I kept praying that I’d get an answer from God, an answer in the form of some kinda sign. Just any little sign.

The Smell That Came Back

2010-09-04T04:47:00Z

The Smell That Came Back
By Paul Bass

Staring at the smell that
Came back from old leaves.
That came back from youth.
I see it every time I breathe.

Is there some way to filter this out?
Maybe turn a blind nose?
Hardly even possible,
As the Toucan named Sam shows.

Maybe I could skate around a lake
and fly right through a cloud of blooms.
Or I could grow really long nose hair
and make sure it’s properly groomed.

Maybe I could go to Macy’s
And let that lady spritz me.
Or go to a reptile farm
and see if that odor gets me.

I need to stink it out. Shout it out.
Whatever it might tell.
I’m just hating what I saw,
When I smelled what I smell.

Talkin’ To Her

2010-09-04T04:44:00Z

Talkin’ To Her
By
Paul Bass

Talkin’ to her is like
goin’ without a hat
Calling on her is like
staring at a bird
Being around her is like
peanut butter on the street

I don’t know why she has that
It’s her power, my pain, her tower.
She uses herself like a gun.
She just points it and I run.
Or duck, or freeze, or put on
a sweater.

That Girl

2010-09-04T04:40:00Z

I am sure that some of these collections of words confuse anyone who knows me. Many are very old and full of 20's angst. I do feel compelled to post them, nonetheless.

That Girl
By
Paul Bass

I can’t pinpoint it, but that girl gives me a feeling
that I can’t quite pinpoint.
Well I know where it is, but it’s not polite to pinpoint.

She gives me a feeling like when I attended my
father’s bar-mitzvah. Like someone I’m real proud of
stepped out of boyhood and this time it was me.
Some can say that it’s just puppy-love
or infatuation, but I say it’s more than that,
it’s a rash of some sort.
I care not for ointment, though, I could use something to remember her by.
Although we’ve never touched, I have spent a night under her bed and rummaged
through her socks while she slept.
Every time I see her now, I wish
she was the one for me and I could just
run right up to her and borrow money.
I wish I could just bring her home,
so she can beat up my sister for me,
Sooner or later I’ll get the nerve to spill something
on her blouse. I’ve just got to incite some emotion in her.
It doesn’t matter if it’s hatred or disgust,
It’s invisibility that I can’t handle.
I also can’t handle keys very well. I sure wish I was the one
with the key to her couch.

The Leap

2010-09-04T02:59:00Z

The Leap
By
Paul Bass

I once say a boy jump off a rock into the sky.
Up there was a branch that he caught and pulled
himself up.
I never thought this young man could reach this
branch in the sky.
I too, desired to reach the sky, but I had no
branch on which to land.
In fact, I could see nothing to grab.
But I knew if I jumped high enough, I’d catch something.
I reached both hands to the wide open sky,
Cocked my knees,
and shot off like a cannon round.
I rose and rose, yet saw nothing.
My momentum slowed and I stopped.
Just at the downward point, I felt a tight grasp
on each of my wrists.
Two large hands locked onto me and took me up.
I reached the sky.
There were alot of people hanging on branches up there.
I went further.
I passed the branches of the upwardly dangling.
I just so happened to pass the sky.
I passed space and was set down in a place called,
“There”.
I had looked,
but I leaped anyway.

Tommy-Bob

2010-09-04T02:55:00Z

Tommy-Bob
By
Paul Bass

Tommy-Bob was a little guy.
He wasn’t a performance artist
who likes to cut his own flesh on stage.
He went to church every
week and de didn’t
belong to a 12 Step beer drinker’s club.
He didn’t go to a strip joint
the night before his wedding.
He doesn’t have a pierced tongue
and his kids get disciplined
when they speak disrespectfully
to their mom.

He hasn’t had his dad put away
even though he’s really old.
He doesn’t dress up like Santa
and hand out condoms.
What an extremist.
What’s wrong with that man?

Stay with Me God

2010-09-02T04:18:00Z

Stay with Me God

Paul Bass

Feelin’ chunky

Feelin’ Fat

Feelin’ like my singin’s really getting’ flat.

I need to hear God

I need His touch

I need to tell Him that I need Him Much.

A Valentine Poem Written Just For You

2010-09-02T04:15:00Z

A Valentine Poem Written Just For You
From A Guy Who Is Afraid To Commit

By
Paul Bass

Here it goes.
It’s a valentine poem that I’m writing just for you __________.
It’s a poem to show you how I really feel.
It’s a poem to say what needs to be said.
It’s a ‘straight from the soul’ poem that’s real.
And it’s one that wants to be read.
It’s not about tricks, no.
It’s not about sports. Oh.
And it’s not about food, so...
I am writing it about you, though.
I hope you like it. It’s packed full of heart.
And it should happen to hit you like a lawn jart.
Here it is.
You know that it’s true.
I love...

Spending time with you.
The end.

Apple Of Death

2010-09-02T04:05:00Z

Apple of Death

Paul Bass

There are 8 things I’ll never forget

Actually there are 9.

Asking Jesus to save my soul.

Saving2 drowning boys.

My first Kiss

The day Reagan was shot

Striking out to lose the championship

Driving off to college

Tearing a ligament in my knee

My wedding night

And September 11, 2001

I could get my mind

Scrubbed clean

And forget my own name

And my dogs face

But never forget these nine

I think of that Tuesday

What I saw, what I still see

As the building started to fall

My mind tried to push it back up

Amid the tears that flood

The dust, the blood

What we saw, we still see

Fire and smoke

My mind kept begging

For the last minutes back

When the sun was bright

And the noises usual

We hear of an enemy

He hides in the shadow

Doesn’t care who he kills

And he will kill until

We are all killed

Or he is killed

They say we are targets

Because of our faith

A Christian nation

That’s news to many

In a country that

Turned from God

The irony is

We’re knocked down

But we’re on our knees

You have planted

What you tried to destroy

A people that prays together

A people brand new

Banished from the big garden

A country brand new

Just remember

You bit the Apple.

Happy Seat

2010-09-02T04:01:00Z

Happy Seat

Paul Bass

You work

Like Liquid Tide on a soily shirt.

Like rubbing a frog on an oily wart.

Like a tall glass of water for a long

Case of hiccups.

Like a gallon of gas to put in the old

Pick-up.

You work and.

I’m glad you were invented.

Like using starch to unwrinkled some shirts.

Like a bottle of the pink stuff when you’ve

Got the squirts.

Like those little bait trays to a house full

Of ants,

Like a tall glass of Metamucel when you try,

But just can’t.

I’m glad you were invented, but.

I don’t understand it.

Like people calling QVC to share their

Excitement.

Like spending 10 or 15 minutes trying to find

A rhyme for excitement.

Like a couple of girls pulling over to ask

Him the brand name of his pants.

Like recording a bunch of boring stuff done

By guys in robes and calling it CHANT.

I don’t understand it. But

It is a total delight

Like that uncomfortable stare.

Like the way we both fit in a

One person chair.

Like seeing a dark shadow and realizing

It’s yours.

Like sittin’ ‘round licking on

Each other’s sores.

Just a total delight.

My Good Underwear

2010-09-02T03:57:00Z

My Good Underwear

Paul Bass

I can never throw away a good pair of underwear.

There’s too much history tucked away in those drawers.

I was wearing a tiny pair when my parents first came to

See me in the hospital.

I was wearing undershorts when I took my first step.

I was wearing a pair when I first said, “Da Da”.

I was wearing them when I met Fred Flintstone.

And when I set foot on the school sidewalk.

And when I rode my bike without training wheels.

And when I tripped my grandma, and thought it was funny.

And when I got in my first fight….with my grandma.

When I got my first long kiss…not from Grandma.

And when I went to my prom…with my cousin.

I was wearing ‘em when I graduated high school.

Then when I graduated college, then years later.

The stretched elastic, The discoloration;

I just can’t throw them away.

I probably should, but I’m just too attached.

I can’t get ‘em off.

Run Wrong

2010-09-02T03:52:00Z

Run Wrong

Paul Bass

All fair to fun

When well

Not to but fro

When ill

Wearing signs of an unmarked heart

Tells more and gives more

What’s unseen is only to show

Put to death so it may live

Come and go to stay

Stay and take what is freely given

What’s theirs is your unless its stolen.

Love; the air of sacrifice,

Is not a name for soul rape.

Flowers under porch light.

Held by the lover of the giver

Face to face lay

Two bodies unstained by friendship.

Exposed by the spotlight of the darkness

Put a noose on the spirit

Rancid wine from an unclean vessel

To live again only in story.

And the story runs.

Bigfoot for Chihuahuas

2010-09-02T03:48:00Z

Bigfoot for Chihuahuas

Paul Bass

If you put talcum powder on a slug,

Will he get scared at first, thinking, “Aaah, salt!”?

If a doctor was giving a porcupine a shot,

Would he say, “This will hurt me more than it will you?”

If two sloths were to race,

I‘d give the prize to the slower one.

If Bigfoot was real,

Would you be so happy you could vomit?

Wouldn’t you feel the same way,

If Chihuahua’s were not real.

How embarrassing would it be

If you were an elephant who wets the bed?

If people had bottoms like baboons,

Would t-backs ever have been invented?

So is it wrong for the hawk to fly

if doing so was to offend the ostrich?

If cows could fly,

would you step up to host an egret on your back?

If antelopes could fly,

I think, that would eliminate teeth marks on his back.

Pretty Relaxing Thing Here

2010-09-02T03:41:00Z

Pretty Relaxing Thing Here

Paul Bass

We got a pretty relaxing thing here.

Nobody’s losin’ sleep.

No one’s flying to Paris.

Just walkin’ around together

I know my ankles are wet.

I think yours are too.

I’m not the kind to make friends with the couch.

But, I’m not strung-up on life.

Just wanta hang with you.

Adjust & develop as it comes.

Stay with this night

And wish for another.

The Urgent Reward

2010-09-02T03:39:00Z

The Urgent Reward

Paul Bass

Tellin’ me to mind my own business and

Let you live your life.

I wanta let you

Live a new life

And I mean business.

Your life if you don’t give it to Him

It’s gonna get snatched

But the Lord doesn’t trick

He doesn’t deceive

He’s just got eternal life

For you to receive.

Because you’re being prayed for every day

Your mind, your heart, your body

You see it’s not me I’m tryin’ to save.

You say to me that I’m tryin’ to convert you

You bet your eternal life, I am.

Why should I keep it to myself

If your headin' for the falls

If your about to go down…

And If it’s up to me to throw a line?

Wonder What'll Happen

2010-09-01T01:59:00Z

Wonder What’ll Happen

Paul Bass

Will I go this way?

Will I go that way?

Will I go away?

Can I face the crowd?

If I fail this one

Should I throw things out,

So that I don’t sink?

Or should I let diligence

Define itself.

Should I take the chance,

While It’s here?

Or refuse, and dream of

How it could have been?

Can I still prosper,

And give myself away?

Shall I let her in?

Does she even have

Anything to do with this?

I want God to be first

Waiting to see

And cutting the wondering.

I want to give it to Him

I don’t want to wonder

Or wander without Him saying “Go!”

You Mark Me

2010-09-01T01:56:00Z

You Mark Me

Paul Bass

You are my propensity.

You’re my next door stranger.

Your name is North.

I am a compass.

My heart is a needle.

You are the light bulb that that stays

In the form of a purple light

When I close my eyes.

You are the line of soap

After a drained tub.

You’re a milk mustache

You’re a punch so hard,

I have a bruise for weeks.

You just don’t fade

You are the ring in my ears

from a concert so loud.

You’re a ring of salt

From a sweat drenched hat.

Need I explain why you’re a sea turtle,

You leave a sandy trail.

You’re a vapor trail on

A clear blue sky day.

You’re a footprint, a tire track

Initials on a tree.

You’re a multi-colored image on

A bank-building window.

You’re a crop circle, a cattle brand,

And a cleat mark, a crater, an autograph

And a sunburn to me.

I seldom ever have to think about you.

You’re just there.

Love Touch

2010-08-31T23:02:00Z

Note: The works in this section (Word Droppings) are from a distant past. Many of them were penned during my era of public readings in coffee houses. This one was the first, and best received.

Love Touch

By
Paul Bass

I just knew she was the one for me; that I would finally throw away that address book, which I was planning on using eventually. I could feel that certain “something” in the air: that mandate that it had to be tonight. Tonight would be the night that I would ask her for a kiss. And if she declined, I’d ask for a hug. If she didn’t go for that maybe a handshake or a meaningful glance. Whatever the gesture would be, I knew our hearts would get tangled up.
We were taking a quiet stroll on that vacant lot, down by the garbage dump, like we always would do, only this time I was almost keeping pace with her. The full yellow moon and the pungent smell of the landfill created a sense of tranquility and well...nausea. Actually, I think it was the aroma that made us both stop in our tracks and hack violently.

After we were through doubling over, our eyes met and emotions tool over. I did it. I leaned forward and kissed her on the back of the head...but if she hadn’t have turned so quickly, it would have been a better shot.

She then turned back and looked at me and we embraced. I knew the moment had arrived.
Suddenly, I felt a burning sensation a little lower than most burning sensations. Engrossed in the moment, i decided---this was the most painful thing I’d ever felt! After backing off, I noticed my pants ere singed and her leg was on fire.
Turns out she’s one of those “spontaneous combustion” people who just catch on fire for no real reason. Anyway, I immediately did what any citizen would do when another was on fire: I kept a distance and watched in awe, wishing I had my video camera. She must have seen that old Dick Van Dyke public service announcement, because she knew just what to do: Stop--Drop--Roll and she screamed a little. And yelled “Help!” This method worked. The flame went out. She soon was merely exuding black smoke. There would be very little anyone could do to save her burnt clothes.
I helped her up. She was obviously very embarrassed because she threw out some words that I heard one time when I spent a night in jail for breathing heavy over the phone to Judy, the Time-Life operator.
I, of course, was just plain confused. I couldn’t think of what to say to a woman who had just caught on fire. As I followed her and her charred aroma back home, thought flew around in my head like a bunch of thoughts flying around in my head. “Did she mean to do that ? Does it happen often? Is is a monthly thing? Was it my fault? Did I remember to send back that form, or am I gonna get that Ashlee Simpson CD in the mail?
Ya see, from my experience, I’ve always known that women are flammable, but until now, I had not known a combustible one. I could see that this would cal for a new level of patience and understanding. Well, I decided that I was ready to take on the challenge. I finally realized that I could take a chance. The decision was mine -all-mine and I make it. We now take our walks together hand in oven mitten. Of course, I have a small fire extinguisher in my free hand and I spray all of my clothes with a special foam that I got at a Military surplus store.

I’ve Been Commanded

2010-08-31T22:55:00Z

I’ve Been Commanded

By
Paul Bass

I’ve been commanded to declare myself.
Stand on a mound of pencil shavings
And say something that’s supposed to
Mean something “meaning something”
Is supposed to stick.
It’s supposed to “make me” in the
Eyes of my be hearers.
Perhaps meant to make me and

Hold me in the arms of obligation.
Hold me? They want to scold me.
But don’t know how to talk to me
Get carried away trying to overcomplicate.
I want to obey, I want to sacrifice,
I want to be part of the Rock that
The gates of the Beastmaster
Cannot prevail.

I want no part of irresponsible meanderings.
I want no part of rambling marches.
I have no time for mob chat.
Take on me, fake on me, flake on me.
Please don’t stake on me.

I’ll pray that’s the only thing I can
Do. Let’s hope it’s just me.
After all, what am I?
Some kinda gate master?

Why do I have to let you in, in that case?
Could not you see me from there?

Or do you want me in there?
Is it that you are holding the gate?
Do your arms get tired?
I’m so confused, I’ve only just lived
And been.

I know not of your Declaring ways.
I run not for an office or seat.
I’ll pray though.
I hope it’s all just me.

Haystacks

2010-08-31T05:25:00Z

Haystacks

By
Paul Bass

So many haystacks,
Which one has the pitchfork.

Undertow in every harbor,
Don’t swim or swim for life.
Whew! Twirl,Shake back & forth,
Tremble,
Jump…
Wait…,
Go back. I can’t fly, but I can,
Climb.
It takes more time to but,
I’ll be right back
Don’t change pace,
I’ll be right back.
Don’t compensate.
I’ll be