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Remembering

Swaying softly

arms around each other

you and I beneath the

blackened sky

listening to Arlo sing

coming into Los Angel-lees

It was a groove thing, baby

being at the festival with you

it was my peaceful time

so divine so sublime

and I wish I could go back in time

back to Yasgur’s Farm

back when I held you in my arms

and I knew everything would work out fine

but things have a way of slapping you in the

Face

In the blink of an eye I was gone from your life

Thrown away

And another chick took my place

I don’t know where you are now or what

You’re doing, nor do

I really care

But when we were together those 3 August days, I was

the happiest at the Woodstock

Music and Art Fair

c. A. Snyder

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” The Snowman ” By Jo Nesbo. A Review

     I am a huge mystery and crime novel lover. It’s my favorite genre to read. I can’t get enough of mysterious and felonious shenanigans. And within this explosive and oh so popular genre that has been around for decades, are subgenres, and Nordic Noir, or Scandinavian Noir, as others my prefer to refer to it, is just one of many.

     I admit, I have never read a Nordic thriller before. My heart belongs to dark Irish crime drama, but I figured it was about time I got my hungry little hands on one and see what all the hoopla was about since it is all the rage right now.  The worse thing that could occur, I figured,  was that I get depressed over the cold, wintry atmosphere and the bleak, gloomy dispositions of the characters and dour plot, and set the book down, unfinished. But I am happy to say that this wasn’t the case with Norwegian author Jo Nesbo’s moody crime novel.

No spoilers in this review. I hate reading them, especially when caught off guard, so I will never provide any when I share my thoughts on a book.

” The Snowman ” was an interesting read in that I really enjoyed the setting (Oslo and Bergen, Norway) and the characters. Harry Hole (yes, that IS his unfortunate name) is an alcoholic, but heroic Norwegian detective, who lives and works in Oslo. To his credit he has put one serial killer away and in this 7th book in the series, it looks like another may be on the loose. You see, when the first snow falls, a killer snatches a married woman and kills her, leaving in his/her(?) wake, a sinister looking snowman. Now this is enough to give me the heebie jeebies. And some readers, after reading this novel, may become scared of snowmen, like others who are afraid of clowns, thanks to feckin Pennywise from “It”.

So, when a young boy sees the snowman and finds his mom missing, Harry Hole and his team are in to investigate. Soon, Harry thinks there is a link to older cases in which women were murdered in similar ways, and that is when the plot gets rather convoluted and complex.

Jo Nesbo definitely knows how to write. But I found the plot rather unsuspenseful and the pace kind of slow. I didn’t get “wowed” or surprised by twists and turns that pushed up my adrenaline. My heart wasn’t racing, even with the scary snowmen thrown in. It was an adequate and average storyline at best.  The villain is truly an evil asshole, and of course, when most of the victims are female in these types of thrillers, misogyny is the main motive for the killings, which are sort of brutal in this book.

That said, I still think “The  Snowman,” is a decent read. I recommend this book mainly because of the characters. I liked Harry Hole, (giggle-worthy name set aside), because he is human, flawed, and vulnerable. I expected a super-macho pecker weasel, flaunting his muscles and kutzpah, but Harry is actually a pretty nice guy. The supporting cast is just as interesting, a ball-busting female cop, and an eccentric young hippie-ish dude named, Bjorn……among others.

Since I started late in this series, I think reading Harry Hole # 1,  “The Bat” is worth a look. As for other Nordic noir authors, I may have to give them a looksee also, because I can do the cold climate and weird Scandanavien names, I just need better plots, of which I am sure there are better ones too.

 

3 Snow Flakes out of 5 for ” The Snowman”

 

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The Unfriendly Skies

Come fly United

When we over- book

we will throw you off the plane

we will treat you like a crook

 

We will drag you by your armpits

toss you in the aisle

We will gleefully stomp on your head

as we spew forth hate and lots o’ vile

 

The CEO pats our backs

when we treat you flyers

like pieces of crap

Because he doesn’t give a crap

Abusing ya’ll is where it’s at

 

So come take a flight to the dark side

Fly United Airlines 666

We guarantee you’ll go through Hell

That’s how we get our kicks

 

Next Up: Cryin babies go out the windows!!

 

 

 

c A. Snyder

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Stoner Poems

I just don’t get 4/20

     that stinky leaf  has done

nothing for me

     It only makes those lazy

            hippies  more silly

and hap-pie

      Smoking their  dope,

giggling, and perched up in

      their hippie trees,

feelin wild

            stoned and free

NO Thanks

                  you dirty drips

Your 4/20 I will skip

 

 

HAIKU

The Four-Twenty Blues

Man, what is a freak to do

when the bong is gone?

 

 

c A Snyder (4/21/17)

 

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Kiss Me, Irish!

Kiss me, Irish!!!

Drag me to Galway

   and make me your bride.

Aye! my love for you I 

                cannot hide!

Fly me to Limerick or

           sweep me to Belfast

Aye! My love and devotion to you will

     forever last!

                    Fairies flutter

                    Shamrocks shine

Promise me laddie,

Promise me that you

 will always be mine.

 

 

c. A Snyder (4-9-2017)

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What I Like

I like the Beat poets,

the off-beat-

offend-everyone-you-can poets;

the no-holds-barred-take-no-shit,

write-with-their-feet,

pickin-their-teeth-their seat;

Utterly Unique Poets!

I don’t have time for the

lovey-dovey, woe-is-me,

I miss him!-where is love?-

please come home, poets!

ACK!!!!!!!

Give me an alcoholic malcontent

(THAT makes me content)

who can scribe a good rhyme,

or even better, spin phenomenal

prose, where life is a dung heap

and anything goes

Give me the wacky

the tacky

and the suicidal slacky,

poets of unreachable depths

whose imaginations

can’t be kept buried

in the garbage pits

of their souls.

These are the poets

THAT speak to ME;

the greasy & grungy,

The Grand Poobahs of Grime & Grit

Forever admired by

this wanna-be poet eejit.

 

 

 

c. A Snyder (4-1-2016)

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Peanut Butter Cup Coffee & Poetry

     Happy Poetry Month and a good evening to anyone who may be reading this. Whether you feel sorry for me or you find me just a wee bit interesting, I thank you for reading this.

     Yep, I love poetry and I love coffee. The two go great together. Sort of like Abbott and Costello, Laverne & Shirley, my cat and Guinness. HA! Yeah, when I wake up in the afternoon my fat booty makes a beeline for the Mr. Java Pot and I usually grab a book (or the cat) and just hang.

     Tonight’s brew is Peanut Butter Cup

 A delicious blend of Arabica coffee beans and peanut butter flavoring. Now, many of you may find this disgusting, and that is o.k. with Alehouse. I am a bit of an adventurer in my drinks and that includes beer and wine also. So, this mocha-like, peanut-butter rich java is right up my ally. I give it 5 coffee cups out of 5, and I recommend any of you who are also adventurous in their coffee slurping and chugging to find it and try it!!! It is so good and satisfying!

     Now for some poetry. Here are a few coffee themed haikus I have scribbled when half awake and when my jammie pants were slowly dipping below the equator. I hope ya’ll enjoy!

Call me ‘Coffee Ho’

I grind with expert rhythm

Dark roast orgasmic

Coffee in Portland

Superior beany brews

Made me go WA-HOOO!!!