Vital Ingredient

 

VITAL INGREDIENT

 

Why don’t they make Zimberts anymore?

What happened, did they run out of that vital ingredient, up there, in that store?

I think we should write a letter of complaint.

You know, to the head saint.

Or at least let them know, we need more Zimberts.

The world’s run low.

It’s not fair.

It’s just selfish not to share.

Keeping all those vital ingredients, all the way up there.

At least give us some of our own, so we can make Zimberts down here.

If I can remember correctly,

To make a perfect Zimbert one would need a pinch of this, a dab of that.

Let’s not forget to add a slice of, oh my, I remember that.

But then there was something else, something quite special indeed. It wasn’t a Pinch or a dab,

Not even a slice, dash or a slab.

What was it?

A sprinkle, that was it,!  But what was in it?

 

I forget.

And where is it from? Is that the key, to making the perfect Zimberts?

 That one ingredient they won’t share or let us see.

Maybe.

  But where was it from, could it be from elsewhere?Who knows, perhaps from even down there?

 

 

Although it was a long time ago, I remember a store. They won the Crown.

They made the best Zimberts in town.

That store burnt down.

There was a rumor going around.

They say some of those vital ingredients were never found.

They got too hot.

 When mixed together, in certain weather, 

 

Well I don’t care; I still say it’s terribly unfair, you can find good Zimberts anymore, anywhere.

 Furthermore we have run low; We’ve only got the one you know.

Certainly we cherish what’s left.

And the Zimbert we do have is absolutely, 

our

 gift.

Happy Birthday

Michael Zimbert

By

Amber Keys

Name Day

 

Name Day

I was given a nickname, he was funny,
I liked him.
I was walking out of the Plaza that day.
Seven years my senior.
He was a man, certainly no junior.
Tall and handsome, dark hair and crystal eyes that
Looked me up and down.
I noticed him admiring my thighs.

Sixteen and barley legal
But only if we were in his land with all their regal and royal ways.
He sounded very different from me but with an overwhelming familiarity.

He was bold, he had no shame.
I don’t even think,
He asked for my name.
He just took me by the hand and walked me straight into the Grand. Before I know what was going on, we were dinning and being served wine.

As we started our meal, he noticed the way I approached my veal.
With the knife and fork the right way in hand. But this was only practiced and taught in his homeland.
“No one holds their cutlery like that, not here,” he says in fact.
“Where did you say you were from?”
He asked.

I thought he was fierce with crystal eyes.
“I didn’t,” I said. “You never asked.”
That’s when he asked for my name,
When I gave it, he chuckled and laughed.
Then he said.
“Did I ever wonder if I was
Coming or going?”
And he chuckled and laughed again!

“Your name is a colour, my dear.
We use it to explain the relevance of our traffic lights.
Green means go, red means stop, but
your colour means caution.
It’s uncertain if you’ll continue or not.
No I can’t call you that.”
He says,
“I’ll have to give you a nickname instead.”
I looked at him awkwardly.
I’m not sure I like this game with names. He’s cute, handsome in fact.
But who is this guy, with his weird chuckles and laughs?
I’ll keep quiet for now, since he’s buying the wine.
But if he’s not careful I’ll stand up
And slug him right in the eye.
He could see I was annoyed,
Thinking he’s so clever.
He started to say,
“I promise you really will like your nickname
but first let’s play a game.”
I glared up and raised my brow.
Now I’m thinking one bad word and I will punch this guy out.
“What is it?” I say.
“What game do we have to play?”
“All you have to do is look at my s tattoo and see if you can pronounce my name correctly?”
And that’s when he stretched his jeans to one side, pasted his hips, exposing the top of his thigh.
I looked up with a roll of my eyes.
I pretend to dismiss
His physique and muscular thighs.
I glanced at his colorful tattoo. I
Didn’t want him to know that I cared
or that I might be wondering what he was wearing down there.
I shook the image from my head. Exposing a blush, I went a little red.
I quickly focused
back to the question instead.
“Yoska.” (YŌsh-kǎ) I said with perfect intonation.
His eyes widened, he said.
“How did you know to pronounce it that way? No one has ever got it correct,
not an American anyway.”
“What did I win?”
I said with my own sinister grin.
“Your nickname of course.
It’s yours if you want it.
You can have it forever if you like.”
I’m intrigued but not sure.
I’m almost frightened to ask.
Well alright, it’s just for laughs.
“What is your nickname you have for me?”
And that’s when he took my hand, he looked deep in my eyes with his crystal azures.
He said,
“I think you’re lovely,
Stay with me.
Go on my love, are you bold enough?
do you dare, take a chance, on me?”
I was taken aback by his tenacity.
I was compelled, it was a challenge you see, so I said, “Yes.”
“I knew you would,” he said.
“How did you know?
I almost said no.”
He shook his head with confidence and said,
“Your nickname of course, it suits you my dear. I knew it instantly with only a glace. I knew you’d be compelled to take a chance on me.
Your nickname my love, is Chauncy, you see.”

A year later, and it’s time to hand my nickname down the bloodline.
It was never really mine to begin with.
It was always yours Cherub.
It belongs to you my baby girl.
I was just holding on to it for a while.
Waiting to give it to you,
Upon your March third arrival.

“Suffer fools gladly.”

 

I’ve stopped giving myself the allowance of a thick skin regarding certain traits and behavior. I will and do believe there is a business for my art and whatever that capacity turns out to be, that is the one that will work.

I have picked my lane, it’s the one I drive down now. The pieces are falling together, I am not looking to hustle a deal to make a movie or a documentary. Would I love to? Yes, absolutely but that is not my driving force. My driving force is to develop an under appreciated skill that for the most part is newly discovered  to me and run with it.

 

I’m excited to see where this natural organic talent takes me. I get to practice theatre and TV, both behind the scenes and on center stage. I love each one very much but they are so individual like your own children.

 

The core is writing, it all steams and starts from that, the rest follows. I am much less tolerant, which for me is a tremendously positive step in the right direction towards my inner evolution. It was this ridiculous tolerance I had to, “suffer fools gladly,” that stalled my natural growth. I was not aware of my disposition towards this behavior for most of my life thus far. Even though I have heard the cliché many times and knew what it softly meant. Now there is an emphatic feeling that crashes over me when faced by fools with every discomfort you can imagine. It’s as if I am being pulled under by a nautical force. I find I’m panicked, struggling with all the effort of knowing it’s probably my last. Only to rise above out of my buoyant coffin and gasp for life. It’s unlikely I will want to relive that experience anytime soon.

 

So finally I can truly know and say, I will no longer, “suffer fools gladly.”

 

-Amber Keys

 

 

The Union

Throw back Thursday! You have to check this out! Great story and next we’re going forward to interview Joe Cocker next.

I’m looking forward to it, I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

Amber's Blog

THE UNION

Bay Half Moon Full

Artist; Native American Mother Cherokee; Godmother. If you know anything about southern soul music and rock ‘n’ roll or just happen to be a James Bond fan, then you know the timeless and inspiring southern velvet voice of “The Delta Lady” Rita Coolidge. Mark Wahlberg likes her singing A LOT.

Thirty-seven years ago was Rita’s last experience of Judy and I. She walked out on stage at the Throckmorton Theatre on Dec. 7^th, 2013 at 8:30 pm.
I saw something I hadn’t experienced since Dec. 7^th, 2011 exactly two years to the day. That experience was branded. “Unique…one of a kind even…what swagger,” I thought.

It’s not seen in many women, especially one so beautiful.

Instinct, human nature and a strong sense of self-preservation would tell you what that swagger meant; “Warning, unstable, approach…

View original post 1,215 more words

Bay, Half Moon Full.

Name

Half Moon Bay Collection™

by

Amber Keys

Description

This is a very unique collection of photographs taken from my raw footage shot on my Sony HD Handy Cam with DCR-SX45 w/2000 digital x zoom I am a documentarian with a recent body of work I’ve been compiling for over the last 24 months.

The entire collection was shot just off Hwy 1 at Half Moon Bay, California.

Hello Superstar® & Bay, Half Moon Full® Are photographs capturing natural elements and life. The location is Half Moon Bay in California. As the sky changed from sunset, to dusk than dark, I captured the moon shortly after.

A 100% organic moment captured on my Sony Handy Cam. “SKY©” Is a poem, written by Amber Keys. The background is a still called, “Hello Superstar® ” A photograph taken by Amber Keys, using her HD Sony Handy Cam.

Poem written on Dec.18th 2013. This body of work comes from my latest Rocumentary called, Surviving the Artists.

I’m losing light at break neck speed. Driving south bound on Hwy 1 the camera continues rolling pasted its 48th hour.

The crossing of the majestic Golden Gate Bridge is behind me and the successful negotiation thru the passionate city streets of San Francisco was just about to leave me. If I’m lucky maybe some of that artistic talent the city is saturated in will rub off as I quickly pass through.

I still have no coastal line footage. I continue driving fiercely for, “That shot.” I’m racing through my mind on how best to steal more daylight before night comes to count me out. My 48 hours of filming only have a beginning, middle and no end. Short of mentally believing I was Superman and envisioning myself moving supersonic -light speed fast to achieve a few extra earthly moments of daylight was silly.

It’s not even practical, my mustang would never go that fast. It’s only a six cylinder.

Even if I had my own Wookie to fix my hyper drive and go starlight speed it wouldn’t matter. I had to pull over. Especially now, since none of these mental notes or options offered any factual help that was based in reality.

As if a Wookie would ride in my mustang. It’s not even a convertible. After that ridiculous notion, what happened next might never have been shared. That is, if it hadn’t been for my Sony HD handy cam DCR-SX45 capturing everything on digital recording. Validating of course that I may be insane but not about this moment. I also had a witnesses to how life and nature can be stranger than fiction.

The Union by Amber Keys

Entry Description

This piece is called “SKY©,” it refers to an original poem written then graphically designed over an additional piece of work captured on film. All three artistic works are collaborated together by the sole creator, Amber Keys. “Hello Superstar®” & “Bay, Half Moon Full®” Are photographs capturing natural elements and life. The location is Half Moon Bay in California. As the sky changed from sunset, to dusk than dark, I captured the moon shortly after. A 100% organic moment captured on my Sony Handy Cam.

Other Information

The poem was written after, “Hello Superstar®.” was captured.

Inspired by my mum, Judy Keys and dedicated to my Godmother Rita Coolidge.

More information can be found at: Amber’s Blog; https://amberkeys.wordpress.com/2013/12/31/the-union/

Camera Make: Sony

Camera Used: Handy Cam DCR -SX45

Lens Used: Handy Cam DCR -SX45

Bay, Half Moon Full®

“SKY©”

“Hello Superstar®” 

Judy Keys

An Artist Unsung

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4_-69Rz-cg

Pastry Nation

 

 

Pastry Nation

 

I don’t know why I’m surprised, each day that I hear someone say;

“I’m sorry I forgot that day.”

As if that day just disappeared.

“Look there goes Tuesday; it just leaped off the calendar,

 Like some crazy salamander.”

I guess we don’t have to keep our appointments today.

 

Did you hear? Tuesday has disappeared.

 

We can just sit around in our dressing gown,

Eat cereal,

Watch cartoons

 And

 Drink beer.

 

“Welcome to flaky town USA.”

 

Why is it alright, to say, “Okay, you can count on me tonight?”

Or

“I’ll be there, that day.”

When all along, you have no intention, no inclination of ever showing up.

Not even the aspiration of conjuring up some story to say.

No, it’s expected; Almost elected.

 

As if we voted these flakes into office one day.

Well I didn’t vote. Where is my say?

Welcome to flaky town, USA.

I know I don’t sound like a local to this town.

But I am a native, I just went away.

When I came back, something went off track,

  I could feel something off that day.

The more I looked around,

I saw and heard my town,

 Being run down,

More and more each day.

 

 Is it because of the flakes and their flaky pastry behavior out here?

Where did they come from? Who let them in?

 

Make sure we close the door,

Don’t let in anymore.

Get some vegetables in around here.

 

 What happened out here? Will it happen to me?

Or

Is it just being aware of your inoculation?

From becoming Mayor,

Of a pastry nation

Called
Flaky Town USA.

 

Well I’m not giving up.

I like pastry just as much as the next lot. But who wants a pie with nothing inside?

It just seems a waist of everyone’s time. Especially mine.

If all those with sustenance stop accepting this flaky insolence,

Then there will be no mistake.

Don’t take credit from flakes.

 

There is nothing wrong with a flaky pastry from time to time.

 But you have to admit. Whenever a pie is eaten, even if it’s all gone, it’s always the Meat that goes first.

You don’t care about the flakes left behind on your plate.

 You know why?

Because flakes can be jerks!

Introducing “Surviving the Artists.”

Introducing “Surviving the Artists..

Reality Rocudrama-Rocumentary®

Spanning over 40 years from 1968 to Present day.

Interviews from 2007 with Judy Keys, 2009 with Bobby Keys and Bonnie Bramlett, 2012 with Bobby Keys, 2012 with Patty (Harrison/Clapton) Boyd and more.

Our latest interview Dec. 2013 with Godmother Rita Coolidge. Utilizing vintage never seen or heard audio, super 8 film, 60’s&70’s film and video, digital recordings visual and audio and digital HD.

I have documented historical events from past to present listing all the amazing historical living and passed artists that are documented throughout this entire series. For the full list of historical and contemporary artists visit us at http://www.survivingrocknroll.com

Amber’s Grant

Why do you want to be self employed?

TO HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY,

 TO DO SOMETHING WITH PASSION I BELIEVE IN EVERYDAY.

TO SELFISHLY REJOICE,

 IN THE HAPPINESS THAT I GIVE TO OTHERS WITH SOMETHING, I CAN CREATE.

Tell us about your business….

IT HAS ONLY JUST BEGUN,

 IT IS ALMOST IDENTICAL TO A CLICHÉ OR THAT STORY UNSUNG.

I’M 44, I PROMISE YOU JAN 14, RIGHT OUT THE DOOR. ONLY SINCE DECEMBER ONE MONTH BEFORE, DID I REALIZE I HAD A GIFT.

NOTHING I EVER THOUGHT OF, EVER, EVER, BEFORE.

IF YOU WOULD HAVE ASKED ME THE SAME QUESTION IN ANY OTHER PLACE IN TIME.

I CAN ASSURE YOU, NOT ONE WORD OR SENTENCE WOULD EVER HAVE RHYMED.

TELL US ABOUT YOUR BUSINESS YOU SAY.

IT’S AN EXPRESSION THAT I LIVE EACH DAY.

 A PASSION THAT HAS NO SAY.

 ONLY THE URGE TO EXPRESS AND CREATE

WITH THAT CHILDHOOD GIDDINESS WHEN ALLOWED OUT TO PLAY.

I UNDERSTAND IF I DON’T MAKE THE GRADE OR THE CUT AS THEY SAY.

AT LEAST I GOT TO WRITE THIS FOR YOU, ESPECIALLY ON THIS DAY.

AS LONG AS I MADE YOU SMILE. THAT ALONE WOULD BE WORTHWHILE.

IT’S THE LAST DAY OF MY BIRTHDAY MONTH SO I THOUGHT, WHY NOT?

 IT MIGHT JUST BE YOUR DAY.

If awarded a grant what are your plans for the funds?

IF I WAS AWARDED A GRANT, IT WOULD GIVE ME THE FREEDOM,

THE FREEDOM TO CHECK THINGS OUT.

NOT JUST WRITING POETRY,

 BUT THE OPPORTUNITY TO PERFORM IT,

IN ITS ENTIRETY. THE WAY IT WAS MEANT TO BE

AND NOT GETTING CAUGHT UP WITH DIFFERENT WRITINGS OR ITS SYMMETRY.

INSTEAD, CREATING POETRY WITH THE WORD, THE SPOKEN WORD,

THAT CAN BE SHARED ON A STAGE AND ADDRESSED TO THE WORLD; WHILE SHARING EACH NOUN, INTONATION OR VERB.

Anything else you would like to add?

HAND ON MY HEART I CAN HONESTLY SAY,

YOU WON’T BE DISAPPOINTED.

. BECAUSE OF YOU, YOU WILL HAVE CREATE,

A POET,

 DEVOTED,

 TO MAKING HEARTS SMILE EACH DAY.

BY

AMBER KEYS

For Suzie

The latest in a series of “Spoken Word” / Slam Poetry.

Fairy tales and fairy crossings.

All Godmothers have discussings.

They break for tea but only once a day you see.

They discus about this or talk about that

but always, yes always, there will be one subject pinned to the top of their cap.

All the fairies gather round, to sneak a peek

or hear a sound.

But one wayward look, will  get them all cooked

and it’s bye bye fairies, bye bye.

Godmothers hate to be interrupted.

Especially,  yes especially by anyone corrupted.

 

One Godmother stands up to address the pin in all their caps.

 

“What are we going to do?” She says.

“What are we going to do about that?”

 

Another Godmother stands up to say.

“Why don’t we use the hounds that day?

They can protect and hear any sound.”

 

“That’s just silly.” Another speaks out.

“How are the hounds going to sing to Billy?”

“I’ve got it!” Erupts from the corner of the room.

“What about if we gather round all our fairies and ask them to help out?”

 

Godmother from over there, crosses her arms and sits back in her chair.

“That won’t work.” She says.

“All our fairies are all  jerks.“

 

“Ladies, ladies please calm down,

the answer is in the room,

it’s just swimming around.”

 

“Godmother all the way in the back.

Let’s talk about the one thing

permanently pinned  in your cap.

Why are you sitting all the way over there?

Come closer dear don’t despair.”

 

Says the Godmother at the head of the chair.

 

“They all grow up, you know that.

But one thing’s for certain,

her love will always remain intact.

Sometimes they forget,

but she will remember.

She will know her Godmother’s love is

eternal and forever. Don’t forget my dear her memory will come flooding back

and when it does she’ll be clear,

you’ve always had her back.

There is no stopping a true godmother’s love,

it’s ordained by the heavens above.

There’s no need for a public announcement just your word to the Universe is enough.

She will find you dear, you will see.

And when she does it will be,

very clear to you and she.

You and her were always meant to be.

It was ever thus and as it should be.

Yes some time will have passed but now

you get the best for last.

I can’t tell you how much I envy you.

But you will soon know,

the Godchild who needs you so

will never let you go. And that’s what it’s all about

my dear. Being there when no one else is near.

I do hope this talk has help somewhat,

but now we really must get back

to the pressing pin in all our caps.

Billy’s stripper party.”