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About Deviant Stephen M. BauerMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 14 Years
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Literature
The Opposite of Virtue
So many women are masters,
some grandmasters.
The Original Sinners:
They play emotional chess,
one move at a time,
But always several moves ahead.
Their tactics are habitual:
guilt, reverse-psychology, the threat,
the preemptive strike of blame,
the tempestuous bait and switch.
You give in. You reverse. You sacrifice.
Selflessly you exhale:
She tightens the straightjacket.
You are moments from asphyxiation
when she releases her grip.
You, the defenseless dupe,
are grateful.
And later, you are bewildered:
You wonder what happened,
and hope that it is still true
That the meek shall inherit the earth.
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Literature
James Joyce's Funeral
As the cemetery service ended,
Margaret climbed down into the grave.
The mourners shrieked, and even more so,
As she lovingly spooned the cadaver.
Death is always a sudden shock of cold.
Gone for good are his Gaelic spirit of gab,
as much as the liquor on his breath
and cigar ash scattered over his suit.
Among the mourners, many had heard her sigh,
then whisper desperately, "I love you."
But, in one last echo of a death rattle,
The artist uttered a lone word, "Nora."
All present fell silent at that moment.
Crescendoing cries were heard from the hole,
amid a rising scent of cheap perfume,
And she convulsed with a shattering wail.
A woman started praying the rosary.
From the back, a rough man with a shovel
came up and pressed it into the dirt.
"That's it!" he said, "We'll bury this one too."
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Literature
Masala Chai
I was sippin' a big cup o' hot tea,
With a roun' teabag floating on its' side.
It was under me nose and me feelin'
the air of the South Seas in me nostrils
An' I blew that white sail up on its side--
Watched it tack across me cup I did,
A regular Portuguese Man O' War
It was--the cannon loaded for plunder:
Cardamon, cumin, saffron, and nutmeg.
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Literature
The Shootout Scared Everybody
It was a full eclipse in asteroid city.
All the space boys were in town.
They had just gotten their wages the night before.
The trouble had started at last night's poker game.
After some out-of-orbit comments about Venus' talents
And a wager over her services, one thing led to another.
So now Mars and Mercury faced-off at ten light-years.
Preacher Pluto shivered and ran off to get Sheriff Earth
who was too stewed and hung-over behind his desk.
Neptune and Saturn ducked into the blacksmith's shop.
The Sun ran and hid behind the bar in the saloon.
The Moon peeked out from the barbershop window.
And all the little stars scattered from the street.
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Literature
Epiphany On a Highway
In my lust-filled, naive youth,
great, romantic hope
was to be had in
the waves of whispers, wails, and moans of
desires that blew from
record players, stereos and
radios blasting 77 Musicradio WABC everywhere.
But driving home from work, on Route 35 South this
late September, I saw a vision in
the sky of
the cover of
the Cat Steven's album,
Teaser and the Firecat--a
big, pinkeye, beach ball moon over Sandy Hook, on
an arching-over-the-ocean, light-purple sky, tinted so by
the gaseous stench from garbage dumps, the
exhaust fumes from all the cars and trucks, and
the cloud of stench from the
perfume factory sitting right behind that
rustic looking facade of a wooden fence.
I am too old and
too wrong to be
that innocent, comic, ragamuffin, less a
simple, angelic hippie.
Late I learned,
they existed only in the
fragrant promises and temptations of song and the
imaginative photos and paintings on the covers of
rock music albums.
That was art,
not life, and
all the rock stars that
lived to
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Literature
A Recollection of 9-11
My commute to work at the time was to take the train to Newark and then change to the Path train to the World Trade Center.  From there, I walked to the far end of Wall Street, to the last building before the FDR Highway and the East River.  On the morning of 9-11, I had exited the the World Trade Center about a half hour before the first jet hit.  
In the office, I found out about the attack from a panicky phone call from my wife who was watching the news at home.  We did not have a T.V. in our office; so initially, we did not have any idea of the magnitude of what had happened.  But someone had a radio and everyone was calling or being called by wives or friends. From my window, I saw millions of pieces of paper falling from the sky, as if from a ticker tape parade.  And from another window, I could see the smoke churning from the tops of the towers. After the buildings collapsed, concrete dust started falling from the sky,
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Literature
Today is 9-11
I thought it was tomorrow, but when I was driving to work, it was all over the radio.  Maybe I was in denial.   Now I feel very somber.   While exiting the World Trade Center that morning, before the jets hit, I recall the brilliantly clear sky and the pure feeling of the air.  While driving to work today, I looked up, reflexively, not looking for jets or tall buildings, but just to gaze at the sky, at the weather.
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Literature
Bracing Myself for Exile
I confess my concupiscence has led to my corpulence..  For a long while I felt ashamed of myself, and I realize that with the passage of time, I no longer feel so--I delude myself that I look and feel good.  Yet, the truth is, the guilt of my gastronomic depravity lies as heavily upon my bones as a millstone.
I’ve had always prided myself on self-discipline, but now I think this pride is a grand fantasy of myself, a refusal to admit to being fatally flawed.  It may seem like an illogical leap of logic to equate the latent lack of control over one’s eating habits with the subtle concept of spiritual pride, but Grace builds nature:  face it--this is spiritual pride, naked and raw.  
My local bakery is named the Garden of Eden—I kid you not, and it couldn’t be more aptly named, given the culinary harem of females found there.  I shall never cease to be seduced by the hypnotic charms of Everything Bagel. &
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Literature
The Barn
At 11, I was tall and skinny, with a crew cut and horn rimmed glasses. I was the oldest of seven brothers and sisters and a model of obedience. Our parents were highly overprotective and very successful at preventing any of their children from having any knowledge of evil in the world.
My father was an elementary school teacher, and for many years, on the day after school was out, father and mother packed all seven of us and necessary belongings, into our wood paneled station wagon and drove to a farm in Beach Lake, Pennsylvania, for a vacation.  
Judging by the two barns on the property and all the old farm equipment laying around, it must have once been a very busy farm. The business was run by a widow who lived in the main house. She had a son, Tom, who was in his forties and unmarried, who also lived in the main house. He had a day job somewhere but also did any labor that was required on the cabins or farm. The farm had only about a dozen cows and perhaps two horses
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Literature
Theophila
After much agonized soul searching, I finally admitted to myself that I really need to confess about my relationship with Theophila, even it means I have to go to jail as a result.
I met her while I was working port security in San Francisco, inspecting container freight.  A big cargo ship from the Sultanate of Brunei  had come in.   I admit I was not a very upright inspector.  I normally just signed the inspection papers without doing any inspection.  I spent most of my time at work surfing the Internet looking at pictures of pretty girls.   However, from one of the containers on this shipment from Brunei, I caught a slight whiff of perfume.  The scent was more sensuously feminine than anything I'd ever encountered or imagined.   So I figured, I'd inspect the container
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Literature
Have You Read Cervantes?
Quixote had his books of chivalry.
I have my books of religion.
He fought his windmills.
I fight mine.
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Literature
Tanka 9
Is that all there is?
After raising seven kids,
To sit in a room,
With not a thread out of place,
And the ticking of the clock.
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Literature
The Literary Cafe
Oh, there are some advantages to being an Irishman living in Paris.  This afternoon, while I was walking on Rue Monge, from behind me, I heard a voice from home shout, "Stephen!" and I spun around.   It was Jack Casey, who I hadn't seen in months.  "Fancy seeing you still here" he exclaimed.  "Since the Irish Free State, I would've thought you'd gone back home by now."
"Last I heard, the Black and Tans still have my name on a list," I said with a smile.  Then added, "I have nothing to go back to anyway," unable to suppress the sorrow in my voice.
After the Easter Rising in '16 Jack had to flee to France.  After some troubles of my own a few years after that, I decided it would be safer there for me too.  It was Jack who put me up in his place in Paris until I could land on my feet.
"Are you still pouring coffee at Les Cafés Littéraires?" Jack asked.
"Aye, I'm still working for Lizzie."
"How is she?"  
"Ah, Lizzie hasn't been so happy lately, but things may have just changed for her, if
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Literature
The Rage On Earth
My name is Stephen, and I come from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.  By trade, I used to be a machinist.
Don't let what happened to me happen to you.
It was Monday morning at work, and I was shaving a steel rod in the lathe.  My brain and body had just flipped awake, and I looked at the clock.   It was 8:45 A.M., and I was hung-over.   Friday seemed like so long ago.   I hadn't given a thought about work.  After shots and beers Friday afternoon, we had a bachelor party on Friday night.  The wedding was on Saturday, and on Sunday afternoon we had a party to celebrate the wedding.
And here comes the damned foreman to chew my ass out.  "Bauer, you punched in 45 minutes late."  I didn't move my eyes from the machine.
"So what."
"It's the fifth time this month you've been late!"
"What's your problem!"
"We gave you a final warning the last time!"    The coil of razor-sharp, red-hot metal that the lathe had shaved off spooled into the water in the catch bucket, making the water sizzle and steam.
"Yo
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Literature
Tanka 8 - Kabloona
We rose at half-light,
silently mindful of the night,
and together, we
beheld the beautific hush
of the faintly fallen snow.
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Literature
To Lauren
You from the land of
Joyce, Yeats, O'Casey.  Who am
I to tell you how to write?
Embrace me.  Show me
bogs in Cork and Donegal,
my ancestors graves.
Their bones long turned
to peat, it was our landlord's
homes it was to heat.
My forebears came, one
by one, in ships bowels with
spirits stowed in violin
        
cases, memories
in pocketed lumps of turf.
In America,
My inheritance
was crushed to dust by stones
in quarry troughs.
Songs were drowned on
whaleboats.  Stories were mangled
to mince-meat in run-
away railroad car
collisions.  Our poetry
was trod by horses.
Hear me across the sea.
O my sweet lovely Lauren,
Have pity on me.
Impregnate me with
your Celtic spirit, that blood,
tears will flow from pen.
Love me.  Fill my hearth
will all your loving warmth.
Save my Irish soul.
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Random Favourites

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Literature
crow comes courting
resplendent in a black gloss
of feathered robes...
crow's morning clicks of courtship
echo through downcast mists that
bead upon bowed shoreline willows
and genuflect in the wake
of his purposeful strut
one hesitant step before the next,
his head cocked this way and that,
listening as distant ticks
message back a reply-
the visage of his agenda
suddenly unfolds in a wingspread
that lifts above a watery canvas,
the guttural sound of pulled
stitching sends love notes receding
into estuaries, and ripples
where tadpoles skip and dart
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Literature
Dear Emotion
I have fallen in love with your abstract anomaly.  The way that you are nebulous at the exact same time that you stab in the back/heart/side/wherever is deadly. Maybe if I were not addicted to your feeling, that brightness of being that shoots golden light from my eyes, my ears, my toes. Pulling me up like a window shade to disappear behind sunlight. You are a magnet, except with Newton and Galileo and Faraday knew better than to harness you. Wise men.
Except my intellect keeps steering me into deserts.
And you are a rain forest.
Ecology and metaphors really never were my strong suit.
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Literature
The Song of the Wise Man
What a wondrous sight in the sky I see,
One rare in all astronomy!
I see that on the night sky far,
There shines the brightest of the stars.
"A star? Then what of that?" you say,
I'll journey on to yonder way
For there's a reason for this thing:
It shines for the birth of the Savior King.
So from my land I travelled far
To follow the rays of that bright star
With hope that it might lead me to
Wherever would be the Savior true.
Somehow it seems a foolish thing,
To guess with words that Prophets sing,
To judge with scrolls from yesteryears
Which speak in code to foreign ears.
It seems so foolish in men's eyes
For us, the Magi all call wise,
To judge with scrolls, to read in stars
Those signs that seem so near, yet far.
But though we know, we know in part:
We cannot read God's very heart
But when His light comes, let earth cheer,
Rejoice because the Lord is here!
But look! Oh, look where I have come:
Is it a palace at the sum
Of worldly power with jeweled floors
And brazen doors, and so m
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Literature
the snow came early
the snow came early this year
dusting places it had never been,
muting the way fog does
catching the leaves unaware
while I peered from the
empty nests in their open hands
the snow came early this year
with birds leaving long before
the first chill arrived
in the wake of their migration
in every direction I could fathom
and the exposure it presented
where I'd been warmed by the sun
but the snow came early this year
as I knew it would
when the spiders came in,
and the last long day grew dim
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Activity


So many women are masters,
some grandmasters.
The Original Sinners:
They play emotional chess,
one move at a time,
But always several moves ahead.
Their tactics are habitual:
guilt, reverse-psychology, the threat,
the preemptive strike of blame,
the tempestuous bait and switch.
You give in. You reverse. You sacrifice.
Selflessly you exhale:
She tightens the straightjacket.
You are moments from asphyxiation
when she releases her grip.
You, the defenseless dupe,
are grateful.
And later, you are bewildered:
You wonder what happened,
and hope that it is still true
That the meek shall inherit the earth.

deviantID

kabloona
Stephen M. Bauer
United States
Current Residence: New Jersey
Favourite photographer: Weegee, any surrealist photographers
Skin of choice: female and flawless
Favourite cartoon character: Mr. Magoo
Personal Quote: Question authority--especially your own.
Interests
  • Listening to: Bob Dylan, Cat Stevens, Linda Perry, Pink
  • Reading: The Long Night of Clement C. Craggogre
  • Watching: Upstairs, Downstairs; The Wire; Cold Mountain
  • Playing: Phil Collins on the radio
  • Eating: bagels and muffins
  • Drinking: vanilla chai
Updated 12/1/2014

Praying:  for my wife and two sons, for friends in needs, and to the Holy Spirit, for myself
Thinking: about why some people act and talk the way they do, and why some people are so difficult
Working on: listening skills

People keep mentioning their bucket list, so I dashed off my own little bucket list:

- write a novel
-take a train ride across a continent--either Canada or USA.
-live in Alaska for a year or two
-buy fly fishing gear and learn to fly fish.
-season tickets to the New York Knicks
-buy another VW Beetle.  Buy an Audi, an Alpha Romeo, a Checker cab
-go to the NY Metropolitan opera
-play squash
-visit the area in China where my wife's parents are from
-visit India, Cambodia, Spain,and few other countries
-go to the theater on a regular basis
-stay at the Mt. Washington Hotel in NH in winter. Climb Mt. Washington in winter and spring.
-do some recreational boating with a fast boat
-attend a world boxing championship match
-read all the books I'd like to read
-travel throughout the U.S., staying at whatever place I like,for
as long as I like
-learn to dance
- live in Berlin for a year or two
-retire
-a bunch of things I've forgotten

Comments


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:iconprettyinpiink:
prettyinpiink Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2015
You're still around, hm?
Reply
:iconkabloona:
kabloona Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2015
Once in a while I login.  
Reply
:iconmilk-and-pie:
Milk-and-Pie Featured By Owner Jun 17, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Hey, this is really late, but thank you so much for the watch, really appreciate it! :hug:2 rvmp 
Reply
:iconchrissyissypoo19:
Chrissyissypoo19 Featured By Owner Edited Apr 18, 2015  Professional General Artist
Welcome to the group, CatholicWelcoming, my friend! :iconbrohugplz: It's so nice to have you and I'm looking forward to seeing your wonderful artistic creations! :heart: 
Reply
:iconscarlettletters:
Scarlettletters Featured By Owner Mar 4, 2015  Professional Writer
Thanks very much for faving my work. I greatly appreciate it.
Reply
:iconjade-pandora:
Jade-Pandora Featured By Owner Dec 2, 2014
J Alphabets (Words) H Alphabets (Words) A Alphabets (Words) N Alphabets (Words) K Alphabets (Words)
Y Alphabets (Words)O Alphabets (Words)  U Alphabets (Words), Stephen, for the faves.
And holiday wishes to you.
Reply
:iconscarlettletters:
Scarlettletters Featured By Owner Nov 30, 2014  Professional Writer
A big thank-you for the fav!
Reply
:iconchrissyissypoo19:
Chrissyissypoo19 Featured By Owner Nov 13, 2014  Professional General Artist
Thanks a bunch fer the fave and the watch!!! :iconpotatodanceplz: 
Reply
:iconjade-pandora:
Jade-Pandora Featured By Owner Aug 6, 2014
Llama Emoji-58 (Up and Down) [V3] Oh thank you again, this time for faving my poem, "Ghost"!
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