All posts in "Ophelia"

In Wonderland

Published December 11, 2018 in Ophelia - 0 Comments


Against the stars

And a thousand points of light

Beneath the river

In the ground depths

away from cloying matters.

Above the humming city lights

Is a memory whose magic

is in itself.

Being young and beautiful,

Growing old and grounded

Dying to be set free,

Free of expectations and conventions

free to see the sea in a moment’s moment.

The circle of…

…deliberate action.

It’s never enough,

Even when you have it all,

It’s never enough until

You feel the arc of completion.

Back to this moment.

Right now everything is

Kosher and copacetic.

MR Stuik 2018


Published December 2, 2018 in Ophelia - 0 Comments


A circle inside a square means

you can tumble dry the clothes.

The dots indicate temperature,

One for lower heat, two for higher heat.

A cross over the symbol means

you shouldn’t tumble dry the garment.

Clothes hanging on the clothesline

means you don’t have a fucking dryer.

Ophelia washed the clothes by hand,

In the big sink on the veranda.

Her sweatpants and indigo silk skirt,

His shorts and teal blue football jersey.

Both of their blue jeans.

Hung them out to dry,

Then it rained. Took them in and hung them

Out again when the sun came out.

They had toast with lemon marmalade

for breakfast. With Earl Grey tea.

Ophelia looked at her hands,

they seemed older than the rest of her.

And her fingers tips were cold

as she wrapped them around the her teacup for comfort and warmth.

That Eye

Published November 29, 2018 in Ophelia - 0 Comments

Olesia Photographing

Everything has potential.
Don’t get in her way,
She’ll turn you into a photograph.
Eagle eye
Evil eye
Private eye
A gifted eye,
An eye that sees shapes and ideas.
An eye for beauty,
A beauty also.
When the moon hits your eye
Like a big pizza pie,
Click, she’s gotcha.
When you have tears in your eye,
And you’re a fool to cry,
Click, she caught it, in secret.
When you’re laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Click, she made you.
When the place your in
Becomes a stage set.
Click, she’s got that eye.

MR Stuik 2018

360 Degrees

Published November 29, 2018 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments

360 Degrees

She could see the way
things were interconnected.
The circus rings, the wheels,
The bowls and glasses,
The bottles and crowns,
The rings, orbs and globes,
The compass.

He thought of body parts,
The tits, the round ass,
The nipples, the circle made by her lips.
“Sex ruins everything”, he said.
“You’re so right, it does!” she agreed.
“That’s why I’m glad we’ve moved on.
Now we can have something better.”

She wanted a gramophone,
To play old vinyl records of Mozart,
With the amphitheaters, the coliseums,
The bubbles, the dew drops,
The movement of water and
The hurricanes.

He knew she was right,
In love, out of love,
Not the way he wanted to be loved,
But neither was it the end.
Their love had come full circle.
MR Stuik 2018


Published November 29, 2018 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments


Riding bicycles in the rain in Lucca.
Had to buy some gloves,
It’s cold in November.

Round the top of the wall
That hugs the city.
The walls they refused to part with.
Loyal to them to the end.

They laughed and remembered
the joy of riding bikes as children.
Out on your own,
Into town with the dog
and adventure.

Or hitching a ride on a friend’s bike.
Balancing and not falling.
They had fallen in love
And then out of love.

And here they were on the walls
of Lucca in winter’s embrace.
Friends to the end.

It’s My Turn (To Be Done)

Published October 30, 2018 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments

Its My Turn

The first done was

that holiday done.

He said something stupid,

and she let him have it.

“What? We’re done.”

The second done

came in the laundry room,

in a nasty exchange

where he said,

“You’re so fucking miserable. Why?”

To which she replied,

“Fuck you. We’re done.”

The third done

came on the dance floor in Mexico.

She wanted to dance, they just flew in.

He wanted to go to the hotel room

and have sex.

She stormed back to the room.

Made him sleep on the couch.

In the middle of the night he came to bed,

As he was going down on her,

she stopped him, waved her finger and said,

“Last time, we’re done.”

The fourth done came on

a balcony in Madrid.

He held her from behind

and she felt it turn off for him.

Like a light switch.

She didn’t say a word.

It was a silent, but deadly done.

The fifth done came

when they met back in New York.

It was brief,

she gave him a peck on the cheek,

they had lunch and she left.

He said, “I know, we’re done.

“Still love you though.”

The sixth done came

as he was writing his book in the desert.

She called him and told him

that she was packing her things.

Her mother rented a huge shipping container

and they took absolutely everything.

He came home to an empty house,

with his new boots that book money had bought.

“It’s my turn” he said to the squirrel,

(who had returned, hoping for some almonds.)

“To be done.”

Anatomy of a Heart Attack

Published October 4, 2018 in Max , Ophelia , Uncategorized - 0 Comments

Anatomy of a Heart Attack

“I was in the kitchen

and he was sitting at the counter.

He looked at me and smiled.

I said,’What?’

He said and I’m not kidding,

‘If I were to ask God

to create the ideal woman,

In temperament,



intelligence and talent,

He could not do better than you.”

“It melted my heart”, she said.

“I just went to him and kissed him.”

“I don’t know what to say, I said.”

‘Don’t say anything.’ he replied.

You don’t have to say anything,’

Her ex Max shook his head,

“Smooth operator,

He’s a smooth operator, that guy.”


Published October 3, 2018 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments


Max leaned in and

kissed her.

Just below her ear

on the nape of her neck.

He inhaled.

There was something about

the way she smelled.

It wasn’t perfume or essential oils.

It was her.

Like distant lilacs

like before a fall rain.

It was almost ancient,

Archetypal, was it pheromones?

It transcended lifetimes.

It was encoded in his neurons,

Did everyone notice that about her?

They couldn’t,

he thought.

“What are you doing?” Ophelia asked.

“I need a shower, I know.”

“No” said Max, “I love the way you smell.”

“Idiot.” she said pushing him playfully away.


Published September 23, 2018 in Ophelia - 0 Comments


When the leaves turned,

her heart turned.

Especially when she was playing

in the maple trees.

Climbing up,

sitting on a branch about two thirds up,

Maybe 50 feet.

Sweet sap,

bring it to a boil.

Manganese, zinc

Bloody knees, she had some wine

and slipped off the porch.

Magnesium, and calcium,

makes the heart grow fonder

Potassium, her heart skipped a beat.

And there he was,

A gentleman in the woods.Fall


Published June 22, 2018 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments


When the marriage ended

Max was away writing a book about the endocrine system.

By the time he got back,

Ophelia and her mother had already packed

a massive steel shipping container full of all their stuff.

He was left with virtually nothing.

She gave him 3 forks, 3 chipped bowls,

and a set of green plates that she didn’t like.

After that, she would drop by periodically

to take something else.

Like picking treats off a carcass.

One time she showed up unannounced

and took most of the rose bush.

“I took a course in roses” she said,

“I can propagate these.”

Then she came by again

and took two huge pieces of the cactus.

“I found a great recipe.”

A third time, she went into his closet

and took all of his silk underwear

(a gift from her mother on his birthday).

“My mother needs these back.

She’s making Romulus and Remus

little outfits. You don’t mind do you?

It’s not like you ever wear them.”

MR Stuik 2018

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