Friday, January 18, 2019

Author Will Mayo's Words and Thoughts

No Easy Way Out
Will Mayo
There was then that ceremony at the obscure Buddhist sect that I attended back in the summer of 1986 where all manner of congregants were humming in high pitched voices and the pretty blonde I was with described it all to me,
"You see how it goes? You just kneel before the shrine and re
peat the magic words OMMMMM Nam Ringe Keyo and all your wishes will come true. Oh, I see you can't afford a shrine? Well, no matter, just repeat that magic formula and your wishes will come true."
I nodded in bemusement and after a while the van load of happy, get rich, so called hippies dropped me off at my place and I headed over to the bar then.
"OMMMMM Nam Ringe Keyo," I chanted to myself at the bar.
All the tavern faithful looked at me in confusion and the bartender walked over and put another one on my tab.
"Damn," I said to myself. "No free beer." So much for those wishes. I had simply got to stop taking the easy way out. I drank my beer in stony silence and settled back to watch the game.

The Albino Boy
Will Mayo

It was the beginning of kindergarten in our rural Alabama community over 50 years ago and of all the boys and girls in my class I was most taken with a tall, thin albino boy with white hair and pink eyes. Though I tried to cozy up to him and get to know him he maintained his distance throughout the school year and kept his quiet and mysterious ways apart from the rest of us.
And when at last we left that little oasis of books and play at spring's end for the big elementary school down the street from us he did not join us. I have no idea to this day what became of him and even whether he is dead or alive is lost to me. But I can still remember staring into his white haired, pink eyed face a head taller than me that first day of school. Nervous, he twitched then. And never spoke a single word.

Frank Feather
Will Mayo
There is yet another Fredericktonian with whom I feel a certain connection. Frank Feather, he was called, wandering from house to house and often staying in an old barn he was known for the craftsmanship of his canes with which he whittled with just care. He was not at all the most popular of fellows and was known to have a rowdy temper and upon his death not many are known to have remarked on him but today the canes he carved in return for one or another's kindness are worth a sizeable fortune. I think of him now and then when I think about giving up due to the poor opinion I may hold in the eyes of one or another. "Think of Frank," I say to myself and pen another line. And then I go on.

Don's Greatest High
With Thanks To Celine Rose Marriotti
Will Mayo
Well, I'm Don at the bar and I've tried lots of things. I tried whiskey and that put me into a torpor. Then I went down to the opium den, tried a little hashish, got me some of Coleridge's visions and laid into a sleep where I dreamed nothing more. Finally, wishing to try out death, hearing how that was the greatest high of all, I went to Gabriel and asked him to lay me under whereupon he struck me with his staff and down I went into oblivion.
There, I saw all the ghosts asleep in their beds. And there I dreamed of life, the sweetest things, naked human beings playing upon the grass and swimming upon the seas, and wanting my dream to come true, wanting to be alive once more I blew Krishna's mighty horn and all the worlds appeared before me, spun and sent me into the living again. And I have to say living's the greatest. Treasure every moment. You never know what will come next.

Love And A Grave And A Newborn Tale
Will Mayo
And so young Mary Godwin was so taken with the tales of her mother's appeals to women's equality everywhere - a goal cut short by her mother's death in giving birth to Mary that the young maiden would spend many an hour loitering about her mother's grave. It seemed not so much as much a place of despair as of great charm. So when Percy Shelley came courting her from afar it seemed the most natural thing for her to say, "Come, Percy, make love to me atop the grave where my own mother lies moldering."
And make love they did, all their buttons and pantaloons and assorted garments thrown to the surrounding stones. There! There! atop her mother's tomb in the light of the full moon she mounted Percy's loins in the starlight until they both gasped for relief and she wondered to herself, "What strange life shall be born of this?"
They both came again under that glowering moon and it was there - there! - long before they would meet with Lord Byron and his devoted doctor on the shores of Lake Geneva that a tale was truly born. And that tale, you have only to know, was none other than "Frankenstein" born that night when she and her lover gave new life to the dead...

The Final Triumph


Will Mayo

And perhaps the Jains are right. Perhaps we endlessly repeat our lives and our civilizations from universe to universe trying just one more time to make it all right.
Until, at last, all fades to silence and emptiness and decay and the emptiness of which we are made and we are done at last with all life, with all being. The final triumph simply to be nothing at all.

When Time Comes
Will Mayo
When time comes, I say,
I will get a job
that will pay me
a wealth of money.
When time comes

I will find me a good looking woman
and marry and bed her for all the nights to come.
When time comes
I will retire from that wealthy job
and sail away with my good looking wife
to go to unseen ports
to do all the things no man
has ever done before.
But time does not come.
It wears a heavy stone.
And I lie asleep here in bed happy and content
for all the miles to come.

Friday, January 4, 2019


Will Mayo's Review

Her Soul To Save

Crystal Lynn Gauthier
Jan 03, 2019

It was Amazing!

I simply loved this novel of a woman named Carley's journey through life and her many loves from Dave the drunk to Raiber, the holier than thou minister who possesses the "screw and be screwed" attitude of so many abusive churchmen these day, to her final destination with the mystery man who gives her the love that she deserves and delivers her into the arms of a more reasonable church and a more loving god. It was a joy to read this tale and though I delighted in its many turns of phrases I found the most memorable in the following - "He had some guns for arms since he had been in the military and built them up to firm and comforting limbs." Nice touch. And well done, Crystal L. Gauthier, on this novel. I give it five stars.

Dreams And Living Still
Will Mayo

At night I dream the dreams of the dead. The dead walk the earth then and so do the living. All is well on the earth in my dreams. Then I wake and you and I and they and all of us are no more. And once more we go forth to this self same oh-so sane world. That's the nature of the beast.

The Hall Of Silence
Will Mayo
And then back in '72 or '73 or thereabouts I slipped through the fence of my father's back pasture with my trusty hound dog Roxie into the backwoods where we had always been forbidden to go for one reason or another. We knew not what. The air was so still that I swear you really could have heard a pin drop if either boy or beast had had the pin to drop in the first place. But, as it was, Roxie and I had nothing but ourselves, scuffed up as we were by the days' activities at the family farm.
We had entered upon an incredible hall of silence. Neither man nor beast nor bird uttered a single chirp or growl in the wild. Even the insects, ever present elsewhere, were eternally silent among those stately rising Southern pines. And the clouds above seemed not to move at all in that bright blue sky. It was an arena surely as touched by madness as by the divine and Roxie and I knew it both that summer afternoon as time itself seemed to stand still.
Roxie, the old dog, she whimpered against my leg and I said, "There, there, old girl," for I knew that we had soon become lost. My father would later on lecture me on these parts. "Willie, don't you know, that those woods reach nearly two county seats over? You might never have found your way out of there." And the poor man that my father was he would near about have had my hide over the matter were he not too gentle a man to give me the whipping I deserved. But that was later, much later to come. For now, Roxie and I walked among those stately pines and breathed in the air and tried not to let it show how scared we were at that unearthly silence that surrounded us. The sun, for its part, was mild that summer day but it blazed in such a way as to give boy and dog a fever alike in the endless hour upon hour upon a watch that stood still.
At last, we exited, not five miles from where we had entered as the crow flies but much further from the cabin door on the roads we traveled to make our way home from our journey around that no man's land.

And all were glad to see us though they knew something was wrong, that we were somehow stricken down our long walk through that hall of silence. It was not a thing that could be easily figured save that boy and dog alike seemed stricken by some divine ball of madness that would send terrors down the sleep of the otherwise restful.
And the results were handy for those who were there to see them. In a few months, my trusty hound would be struck by a heart attack as my sister, who had not accompanied us on that journey, cried out, "Roxie! Roxiieeee!" while the dog collapsed dead at my feet. For my part, I would become the oddball in a succession of schools and madhouses for the very young. It was the end of one childhood and the beginning of something else instead. And I would seek to fill that silence with words, endless words, to the break of day, words that decades later I am writing still. Words that haunt me as I drive away that divine fire I was presented with that day. Drive it away and right home to you. Welcome. Silence and a ball of fire and one old man's neverending dream. There you have it.

Bound By A Ring Of Fire
Will Mayo
A little John Dee would be nice too. Supposed master of black magic, I understand that he had the whole of Queen Elizabeth 1's court under his spell before it all fell apart. Centuries later, scholars of forgotten lore attempt in vain to hunt down his vast and imperious library, hoping for the clue to the secrets of the unknown. But, no, all is lost, lost, lost forevermore...

Art Himself
Will Mayo
And so all my friends said to me about one artist's work -
"He's no artist at all. He's not producing art but rubbish."
"But don't you see?" I said. "The man himself is a living work of art. He walks all about town in a paint spattered dress! Can you think of anything better? 

A Sign For The Town
Will Mayo
The meeting of the city council was called to order. The mayor was new to his office as were some of the aldermen and all had their list of demands. The mayor, an outspoken man known for having made his fortune with a long line of trucks to haul good here and there throughout the city, led the way.
"What disappoints me," he said, "is that there's nothing to say that this is who and what we are. Nothing to say that this is Frederick, Maryland. We need something that'll be us right on the map to be seen by everybody."
"We already have the spires," said Alderman Baker, a sure rival. And it's true. Frederick has always been known for the clustered spires.
"What do you propose?" asked another alderman.
"I say that we put 'Frederick, Maryland' right on the town's water tower to be seen by all," Mayor Grimes said.
"If that isn't the dumbest idea..." said yet another alderman.
"I like the spires," Alderman Baker repeated.
They argued the matter back and forth and it was a prolonged debate but then Mr. Mayor simply said, "If you approve the motion and have 'Frederick, Maryland' painted on our tower then after that name is painted on the water tower I personally will climb the tower to the top to put my seal of approval on it." 

"I'll climb it with you," said Alderman Young who then belonged to the opposing party.
"It's a 'Win-Win' situation," said the mayor.
With that, the motion was passed. The funds were allocated, the workers were dispatched to paint the city's name on the town water tower and give the old town a touch of class. No sooner had the paint dried the old tower than the mayor and Alderman Young were at the tower ready to climb it.
"Are you ready?" Mayor Grimes asked.
"Ready," replied Alderman Young.
And rung by rung they climbed that mighty tower. And though the winds buffeted them on high, they never lost their footing. The first dozen rungs passed without trouble. And then came a hundred. Just a little bit further and they climbed onto the catwalk above.
They waved to the crowd standing far below them. And grinned for in their own way they had put the town of Frederick on the map that day. And thereby passed into legend.