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Monday, March 19, 2012

THE CARBON STEEL CARESS

Short but good review of my novel. By Zigzag67 - See all my reviews Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?) This review is from: THE CARBON STEEL CARESS (Kindle Edition) Having read a lot of mysteries in my life makes me somewhat of an expert (in what I like). Half way through this ebook I'm wondering what else has this author written. That's a compliment.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

A Lament

Goodbye Joe
By GC SMITH

Hank Williams in a Cadillac
Never made that Canton act
He lay down his head and died
Fans by the millions cried

Back seat of that Cadillac
Sure wasn't a heart attack
It was livin' wild, livin' fast
Shootin' up when he passed

Ole Hank he had his fill
Of lonely mansion on the hill
No jambalaya or crawfish pie
On the day he chose to die

Hank lived the honky-tonk life
Cheated some on his wife
Swilled quarts of brown liquor
OD on horse made it quicker

I was a kid, about fifteen
When old Hank quit the scene
Went to the devil that’s my bet
It's mine too says daughter Jet

So old Hank went away
Not to return another day
To row a pirogue on the Bayou
He tipped his Stetson and said bye you

Or maybe it was goodbye Joe
got a row to hoe, gotta go;
I’ll tell it straight, tell it level
I gotta go and meet the devil

So we lament that Hank passed on
We could not believe he was gone
That country songs he'd write no more
Old Hank's locked behind devil's door


Note: January 1, nineteen hundred and fifty three, country singer Hank Williams Sr., 29, died of a drug and alcohol overdose while en route to a concert date in Canton, Ohio.

Monday, March 5, 2012

SC Lowcountry

I live on a saltwater marsh in coastal South Carolina and have a dock in my back yard. The dock goes out 400 feet to a tidal creek that in turn leads to the intracoastal waterway. From there the waters of the world open up. (Eleven miles by boat from my house to the Atlantic ocean.)

The Lowcountry tide swing is about ten feet whch is a big swing. Twice a day the marsh is a grassy plane empty of water and twice a day the water is ten feet deep and the spartina grass is submerged. Fish, crabs, and shrimp come in on the tide flow and out on its ebb. I can stand on my dock with a cast net and get supper. At low tide you can see the creatures in the creek and the big water birds (herons, storks, ibis) come in for a meal. In the winter ducks (mostly buffleheads) but some teal, merganser, woodduck, pintail, and mallard are in the creek. Eagles, ospery and other variety of hawks soar overhead. Little birds (wrens, buntings, titmouse, and others) flit through the trees at the marsh edge. Sea otter, mink, and raccoon all forage the marsh and come into my yard. There is an abundance of deer (which get to be a nusiance eating shrubbery and flowers) but they were here before us. Finally, there is a Carolina panther stalking the area (I haven't seen it but friends have). Some say there is also a bear.

My view is of the marsh, the tidal creek, some small densly treed hummocks, and the waterway. We can see for miles. Looking north is pristine wilderness while the south view is of the town of Beaufort. We face west so the sunsets are spectacular, no two the same. Sunset at high tide produces colors for which there are no names. Yachts and cruise boats (some as large as 200 feet) pass our house.

I love the Lowcountry and its tides. They are endlessly facinating and they set the pace of life here, which suits me fine.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Where to go

Doors
By GC SMITH

Doors open up for you or me
to simply walk on through
and what is found behind those doors
might delight or frighten both of us
but either way we cannot know
until, unless, we take the walk to find
what waits beyond closed doors.

It is a mess, humanity, that bunches
up behind those doors, babbling,
incoherencies that reach most ears
as shouts, debates, loud arguments,
that may not(or may)make sense.
Stuff that comes from everywhere
and nowhere so that confusion rules.

Can one think ceaseless babble
could ever bear worthwhile fruit?
Perhaps so as progress buried is later found
amidst the dross and though we're most often
caught behind locked doors, assaulted by the din,
there are those precious times when despite confusion the wise prevail and man's best work gets done.