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    Great American Short Stories And Poetry
    Great American Short Stories And Poetry
    Great American Short Stories And Poetry
    Ebook51 pages47 minutes

    Great American Short Stories And Poetry

    By Geoffrey Zimmerman

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    About this ebook

    The first of several volumes I will publish.
    An ecclectic mix of funny, moving and somethimes disturbing tales, some of which are true.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGeoffrey Zimmerman
    Release dateApr 20, 2010
    ISBN9781452375342
    Great American Short Stories And Poetry
    Author

    Geoffrey Zimmerman

    MY BIOGRAPHYByGeoffrey ZimmermanGeoffrey Zimmerman personifies the quintessential writer. Some ask, “ Do writers undertake risky, dangerous, moving experiences in order to write about and share them – or is a writer essentially an experiencer, observer, documentor of life’s events and experiences? – sensitive to human emotion, nuance, trial and diversity, alert to subject matter ripe for sharing with readers.ORDo writers become writers out of the need to share moving and universal experiences with others? Feeling somehow removed or cutoff from the common man – who has no reality on the power and scope of human existence. Is it that we must reach out – in an attempt to broaden our own scope, in an effort, (so that we may) reach those unseen hearts and minds,( in which we are not in communion on a daily basis) that can relate, can understand, the impact of experiencing the emotional power inherent in life’s limitless possibilities.I believe I am both, (or all three). Since I was young, I have undertaken to share with others my ideas, thoughts, feelings and experiences.I made films, produced plays, wrote stories, told stories- all in an effort to share myself, (my thoughts, feelings and ideas) with others.I have traveled the world. I have sought life’s most powerful experiences. Worked as a Nursing Assistant in an Emergency Room, flown airplanes solo, worked alongside movie stars, gone where my heart directed. Perhaps knowing that no matter where I was – what I was experiencing, I could expect redemption, payback, fulfillment, for I knew I was never alone, and always had someone I would share myself with. (My redemption would derive from the knowledge that I would be sharing my experiences with others).My stories are simply an outpouring of my self. “Write what you know”. Human experience is what I know. Drama. Romance. Devastation. Desperation. Exhilaration. All places I’ve been. I am emotional, sensitive, idealistic, romantic. I believe that life should be large, stirring, moving, fulfilling, challenging – and when viewed form above – worthy of undertaking.I view life as a gift, a “project”, something we are presented with that must not only be endured, suffered, seen through to the end – but relished, tested, pushed, prodded, played with, truly experienced with feeling – and shared.I’m romantic, sensitive, dramatic. I need to share. I’m observant, driven by human experience. I was brought up by an actress for a mother. I’m educated, intelligent, descriptive. I pay attention to detail. I have been involved with motion pictures, (screenplays), television,( teleplays), and theatre, (scripts), my whole life. I want to make people laugh, cry, think, move, become inspired.It is the robots and sellouts I disdain. Those who can cast aside their true selves for something they are led to believe or are shown from others.It is the poet, singer, artist, adventurer, actor, builder, wanderer, searcher that I respect – for these people have come to realize the value of emotions, sense and experience.Not only do I have an active and vivid imagination, but my life’s experiences have served to impress in me the impact of life – the trial – the challenge – the physical, spiritual and emotional strife that we all must face. I have witnessed movie starts performing before the camera, driven all night with rock stars, thumped the chests of hundreds of people on death’s doorstep, shoved young men my age into shiny stiff stainless steel morgue drawers, and seen a young resident doctor break down, facing the unimaginable task of saving his sister-in-law while knowing his wife and child had perished. I’ve hitch-hiked the Eastern coast line – twice. I’ve soloed in small planes 25 times, been caught in hurricanes, floods, and the earthquake of 89’ in San Francisco.Stuff that I use – that I draw upon. My Life’s History – goes into my bag of story telling tricks when I set fingers to keyboard.THAT’S ME.

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      Book preview

      Great American Short Stories And Poetry - Geoffrey Zimmerman

      GREAT

      AMERICAN

      SHORT STORIES

      AND POETRY

      By

      GEOFFREY

      ZIMMERMAN

      Published by Geoffrey Zimmerman at Smashwords

      Copyright by Geoffrey Zimmerman February 2010

      All rights reserved

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      The Cup (Poetry)

      Jane Hates Dick

      A Memorable Day

      Dad (Poetry)

      Jane Stalks Dick

      Lorraine

      The Beach (Poetry)

      A Tempest In Her Soul (Poetry)

      Spy

      It’s Easy (Poetry)

      The Rim

      Coming Back

      Cover photo by Devastatia

      THE CUP

      I have a favorite cup

      That I need to tend

      It needs a unique blend

      To fill it up

      I will plant the seeds

      And nurture the buds

      To create the blend

      That I hope is right

      To fill my favorite cup

      JANE HATES DICK

      The afternoon was turning out to be just perfect for Dick Lewinski. The fellas at the plant had volunteered to finish up his filing, so now, after dropping little Timmy off at his buddy’s birthday party, Dick found he had three hours to himself.

      When happy, Dick liked to jangle the loose change in his Dickies pocket. It jingled and jangled like a three cherry winner at a Vegas slot machine, and Dick whistled a few happy tunes through pursed lips.

      He flung open the door to his brand new rancher and stood for half a mo’. He scanned the comfy place. Then his keys hit the floor. Hmmm, he thought to himself, as his lips turned o shaped like the mouth of a blow up doll and his forehead became a washboard. He stooped for the keys and upside down, cocked his head and said hmmm again. Then he stood upright and jangled his change and the odd feeling melted away like packing popcorn under acetone.

      Dick hung his keys on the wall, closed the door and turned the bolt. He headed for his new kitchen. I know what I want, he whispered to himself. Some Sleepy Time tea. He filled the chrome teapot with water, placed it on a burner and turned the gas knob. He plopped the tea bag into his Number One Dad mug.

      He picked up his remote, powered up his flat screen TV and fell onto his couch. He pulled off his shoes and wiggled his toes. That smell, he thought to himself, sat up and faced the kitchen. He reached into his pocket and jangled the coins again.

      For watching news 60 at 3. Back after these messages. He turned to the card table by the front window – his WWI Fokker biplane needed a wing.

      Dick undid his necktie as he gazed down at his plastic model. Like unwinding his ex-wife’s fingers from around his neck, he allowed the tie to take away those last years of marriage.

      How could she have transformed from a loving, devoted housewife to a screaming thrashing terror? Some people you just never knew …escaped from Youngstown High Security Institute for The Criminally Insane…

      What? he said and snapped his head at the TV.

      In a daring escape, three female inmates stabbed one guard and dismembered another. Two have been captured and the third is at large. More after these messages. He hadn’t breathed. Now he gasped.

      Hot needles penetrated his face. Ice water laced through his heart and his bowels turned to water. He dropped the Fokker and covered his mouth.

      Then it came to him. That smell! Jane’s perfume, orange blossom. She’d come back.A whine emanated

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