Jordholmen’s public bath
Back in the days of yore, few people had a shower unit they might have had bathtub that was used once a week when the whole family bathed and the loser was the dad usually with daughters by then the water in the tank was tepid
I friend of mine told of a public bathhouse, near the docks, where one could have shower in cubicle, get a towel and a bar of soap
We ran never walked back then to the bath house called Jordholmen, I didn’t have money for cuibcle, but the lady said I could share a shower with my friend, but she only gave us on towel and one bar of soap; well as a capitalist his used the towel first, but that is nothing new
I came quite attached to this bath house, it was a great change to have wash in a bucket of warm water in the living room by the fire, or in the kitchen in the days of May; we have lost hot water in our house in Cascais, my wife despairs for me it is like the old days warming water cleaning bits and pieces in front of the fire
A day when nothing happened
It was a harmless morning my old friends had married
When I was at sea, a boiled egg for breakfast
took the bus to the docks, I had a dingy there and tried my luck fishing
Got two fish, wrapped them up in a newspaper to give to the cats in the neighborhood, and went for a shower at the communal bathhouse
Later I had coffee and a Napoleon cake, the waitress was very fat she sweated and was ill at ease, gave her an extra tip.
A slow-moving car, many people walking behind, and since I was going the same way I joined the walkers for a while
At home I switched on the TV to a woman singing and playing guitar badly; luckily the news came on, an accident near the railway station a handcart had opened
and several suitcases damage.
Opened a new book by Axel Sandemose and read his work in the early morning.
Something showing
Outside inside
Birdhouse bathhouse
Baseball horse stall
See food sea food
Oh-look cookbook
Eggshell upstairs
10/25/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
A Dull Day
It was a dull morning and since my old friends had married when I was at sea,
I felt rather lonely and had a boiled egg for breakfast.
Took a bus down to the pier where I had a rowing boat.
The sea looked grey and cold but I got two, broke their necks
they had paid for their life caused by my boredom, rolled the fish into an old newspaper
and took them home, cut them up and fed them to the stray cats outside.
Went to a communal bathhouse had a shower, after that I drank coffee at a cafe
ate a Napoleon cake and read old newspapers.
Through the window a slow-moving black car with a train of the dark-hued umbrella.
Thought of moving the throng, but my umbrella was green and not suited
for a sombre funeral.
It was noon, walked into the restaurant for a beer, two friends sat there
they were glad to see me thinking I had money, pretended I was looking for someone
and hurried out.
At home switched on the TV, which was in its infancy, a woman played the guitar badly
while I waited for the news, which turned out to be local: an accident with
a hand cart, several suitcases damaged.
Opened a book by Axel Sandemose and read his work to early morning.
A cartoon
he flies over cities
saving the world
from reality
Child abuse
200,000 dead
humongous tariffs
concentration camps
money laundering with Russians
el fato dictator with out the tator
laughing stock
trillions of debt
science denied
witches in the Whitehouse
grabbing privates cause he brags
he can , he can touch your cans
no mathematician
yet good at division
the urinator of ignorance
the bankruptcy King
Khashoggi tried to expose the evil
Saudi Prince bids Trumps carnal desires
in the Turkish bathhouse of politics
dark secrets chopped up in death
Pink Floyd told you
pigs can fly
and you had your doubts
No more doubts
the orange man
a Nazis re incarnation
wrapped in the confederate flag
saving no one
Cleanliness
On my frequent lone walk by the old docks
I came across a building which turned out
to be a communal bathhouse.
It was incredibly cheap for a few pence
I got a towel and soap and had my first shower
I was at the time, elven years old.
And when I was short of change asked my mother
for not ice cream, but for a shower.
My brother said only poofters went there, how would
I know? I Didn`t see anyone wearing badges:
“I`m a gay person.”
There are shops where the old building stood and
by life`s irony sells perfume and toiletry.
I need a glass of hard drink to brush the teeth,
A jug of wine to complement a wheat bread,
An alcohol to bath all day long,.....
I'm a vagrant...in my mansion street,
No wife to cook for me,sons and daughters to make me a father cared,
Wardrobe full of dresses,but one has become as tempered silicon to my wrong,
Having an agreement with the bathhouse,"will be here when I'm hungry for its need",
I know I walk straight in focus,
but the picturing of the society throw wars,
I walk on snow with barefoot,
A skeleton in the cupboard,
Family can't handle if mocked,
Crowned best in breaking bonds of secrets,
Situations undercover......I just can't hold unto,
World prospective figure,...gone worst,
Can be a spell,influence or addiction,..will drink till I'm filled,
Freaky wild tongue,counterparts waits for my presence at the wine bar,
Arrayed in the cloth of a whale,
Killing me slow pal,
An elephant impaled,
Advice ain't gonna metamorphose me,....really need to be intervened for,
Let there be a transformation by his mind renewal,
That's what the Lord assure,
Will destroy the container for a mourn,
Change my name,...I'm a new born!
Hot Springs is where I live, in Arkansas
The foothills of The Ozark Mountain Range
For centuries the springs were the big draw
As people came in hopes their health would change
"There's healing powers in the heated springs,"
At least that's what the natives used to claim
On Bathhouse Row they'll treat you like a king
Our hospitality brings us great fame
But gambling is the main attraction now
Casino and horse racing at Oaklawn
It has become the city's big cash cow
The money flows each day from dusk til dawn
Should you decide you'd like to come and see
I think the starting gate goes up at three
December 30 2016
Hot Springs, Arkansas, USA
My Daddy Was a Preacher
My daddy was a preacher
Not the kind now on TV
But a back-woods country preacher
For they’re the best you see
He came through the Great Depression
Where his parents scrimped and saved
To send him off to college
On a path that God had paved
He worked hard while in college
Took odd jobs when he could
He encountered those temptations
But stayed on the side of good
Then one year taking tickets
At a bathhouse at the beach
He started a prayer meeting
He started then to preach
He preached in little rooms, a house
Eventually a church
He preached for over 60 years
For folks who God they searched
He married countless couples
Held hands of those sick in bed
He helped many a man and woman
Who had turned to the bottle instead
He spoke comfort at the funerals
Of soldiers who had died
Wrapped his arms around their loved ones
And stayed close there by their side
But even preachers pass on
As my loving father did
With a legacy of loving
For this grateful preacher’s kid
written for a friend remembering her daddy on what would have been his 100th birthday.
A shriek rings out
the women's bathhouse invaded
A flustered man is past the door, intruded
Naked women milling about
All without a clout
The girls hide with hands their pudenda
Especially those built like Brunhilda
But fair Rosamund, no bother
just her face does cover
Next day he might know them as they were
but never never the naked her!
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