Poems from a Friend - Seven Colors of the Sun

Seven Colors of the Sun

H. Panky Fastbuckle kicked the door shut behind them and immediately thereafter his pants crumpled to the floor.

“Young lady!” he began, “This is my home! Welcome to my home!”

“Very nice, Panky,” replied the woman as she looked around, “but what has happened to your pants?”

“You didn’t notice it,” spoke Panky, “but I turned my belt into a serpent and sent it off to the bedroom to wait for us there. My pants have fallen because I did this.”

“I see. But what will the serpent do in the bedroom?”

“The serpent will rest its tail on the wall above our heads. Its head and the rest of its tail will encircle the bed until the head again meets the tail on the wall above our heads. This is all to ensure the success of our creative act.”

“Well! How wonderful and fortunate for me!” The young lady folded her arms across her chest. “And what do you call your little pet serpent belt?”

“I have never named it. Neither one of us has named it, up until now. Perhaps that is why you didn’t notice it.”

There was a pause. The naked shoulder of the sun dipped further into the earth. Panky saw this past the head of the woman through the shade in the window. He spoke. “Young lady! Before we begin!” He clapped his hands together twice and rubbed them. His penis swung and dangled as he made a heavy step forward. “I am new in town! What do they call you here?”

“The men or the women?” asked the woman.

“THE MEN!” Panky rubbed his hands together furiously.

“They all call me Silkie.”

They were alone, and Silkie had long black hair.

“I have been admiring your hair this evening, Miss Silkie.” Panky bent low at the waist and spoke towards his feet as he unlaced his boots and removed his pants. “You should show me what you can do with that hair.” He then rose and stiffened. “Here! I have an idea. Drape it across my member. Right here! Look. It is already erect.”

Silkie brought her hands to the back of her head, eased to one knee, and began removing the string from her hair. “You’ve never noticed it,” she began, “but my hair holds the seven colors of the sun.”

“I know that. I told you earlier how much I’ve been admiring it lately.”

“Is that the sun or the hair?”

“The hair. And the sun. I admire them both. But only the hair should be draped on my penis at this moment.”

The woman finished undoing the braid and draped the hair.

Panky moaned.

Silkie sighed.

“Panky!” The call came from under the hair. “You know, I may be interested in your penis later, but I am both hungry and thirsty right now.”

Panky had left his manners at the door. “Where are my manners?” he asked, and withdrawing his penis from under Silkie’s hair, he found and gathered his pants up around his waist and called for the serpent, which had been listening around the corner where the bedroom was, to come out and turn itself into a belt around his waist again, saying, “Little Pet Serpentbelt! You should come be around my waist again!”

The serpent acknowledged Silkie on its way out of the bedroom with a nod as it came towards htem. Silkie rose, threw back her hair, and waved a slight hello. Little Pet Serpentbelt slithered into a belt around Panky’s waist as had been suggested.

Silkie saw all this happen. And then she said, “Look, Panky, I am still hungry and thirsty.”

“I have only cold beer to drink and thick venison steaks to eat.”

“That sounds fine. I’ll have one of each. I’ll take the beer right now.”

Panky led Silkie to the kitchen and seated her at the kitchen table. He opened two beers and handed one to Silkie. She finished the bottle in one draw. Panky reached for the apron next tot he oven and tied it on. “I don’t know about you, but drinking pop or beer too fast makes my throat burn. Does that happen to you?”

“No. But maybe it’ll happen this time. Another beer, please.”

Panky leaned into the fridge for another beer. He withdrew two thick steaks and set them on the counter. After this, he opened the beer for Silkie and handed it to her. “I wonder if I have any potatoes around here,” he said, opening the doors and looking through the cupboards, which were all bare. “It doesn’t look like I do.”

“That’s alright,” said Silkie, “the meat will be enough.” She finished her beer and set it next to the other.

“You know, Silkie, I certainly admire your beer drinking abilities,” handing her another, and finishing his, taking one for himself, and continuing, “but it makes me wonder what other abilities you possess.” He began poking holes in the steaks with a fork. “For instance, what is your relationship with the sun?”

“My hair holds its seven colors.”

“Yes. I know that. But what does that mean?” Panky turned on the flame beneath a skillet.
“It means that my hair has been empowered by the sun to capture and blind a man into meek submission of catering days.”

“You mean something like marriage?”

“Yes. You have been listening well! The power is explained in the story of Sidebelly.”

“Who’s Sidebelly?” The steaks sizzled as they were laid on the iron. Panky leaned up against the counter next to the stove, putting one hand on his hip and the other around his bottle. He raised the bottle to his mouth. They both drew on their beers.

“Sidebelly?” Silkie rose from the table and began walking around the kitchen, touching the potholders hanging on the fridge, messing with the silverware in the drawer, banging on the pots with a spoon, peering at her reflection in the window, running her fingers along the sill, fondling the lace curtains, until she finally spoke. “Sidebelly,” she began, “was a young man who tried to run away from the responsibilities of his manhood, one of which, of course, included taking a wife. He set a bad example for the other men. He told them that are our mouths were open invitations to tragedy, and that our minds were invasive and manipulative. So he took off, ran north through the pines for six years without pause for water or love in the avoidance of our women. Many of the other young men began to feel this way too, fearful of women, and we lost nearly two-thirds of them across the River of Separation. The women shouted to them and spread their legs and showed them their bodies, but we still could not get them to look over their shoulders. Finally, my Grandmother appealed to the sun for help in the matter.” Silkie drained the last of her third beer and reminded Panky to flip the steaks. “You should flip those steaks!” she said, and reached into the fridge for another beer. Panky flipped the steaks.

“Go ahead with your story.” He played with the steaks as she continued.

Silkie went on. “So my Grandmother said to the sun, ‘Look at the way your sons are behaving. They are all running away from their manhood. We women are tired of this. You should help up get them back.’”

“So what did the sun do?” Panky flipped the steaks onto a plate and set the plate in the center of the table. He pulled up a chair.

“Oh! Yes!” Silkie reached for her steak with both hands before drawing them back and peering up at Panky. “Do you mind if I use my hands?”

“No,” said Panky, “here are extra napkins.”

They ate their steaks in silence and then wiped their hands when they were through.

“Delicious,” said Silkie.

“Thank you,” replied Panky. “But after your Grandmother spoke to the sun, what did the sun do?”

“Well, let me tell you. The sun began by instructing the women of the village to each find and polish one piece of crystal from the quarry on the mountain. They did this. It took them one day. While they were doing this, the sun told them they should all come with the polished crystals in their hands to the summit of the mountain to meet him early the next morning. The women nodded their heads and said they would be there. Early that morning while it was still dark they began the long walk up the mountain. They tore their skirts and skinned their knees on the way up but did not complain. A few of them were not too sure footed, and they died while rolling down the mountain. No one looked back.”

Silkie spread her hands on the table and looked down at her fingers. She counted ten of them. Panky leaned in closer.

“When the other women had made it to the top of the mountain, they sat down and crossed their legs and dug the stones out of their pockets to show each other their handiwork. Everyone laughed and hoped their lives would be better because of this effort. Then the sun appeared and said, ‘You women down their on the mountain! Throw your stones into the air a little above your heads!’ They looked at each other and did this, and saw that their stones did not fall to the earth like they expected, but hovered above them in the air. ‘Now you women down there listen good!’ he said, ‘I have already spoken with the earth, and she has agreed to put an end to the running of Sidebelly and his men!’ All the women wondered how this was to be done. They were told by the sun that their men had been covered up with blankets of moss to keep them in one place for the time being. The women were pleased to hear this and folded their hands in their laps. They had been listening good. The sun went on. 'Now you women must have a way to keep your men by your sides! It is for this reason that I have called you all here this morning! Look at the stones hanging in the air above your heads!’ he said. The women looked at their stones. ‘these stones are very powerful! Look at the colors I have placed inside them!’ The women murmured their appreciation and waited for the sun to continue. Then he said, ‘All of you women! Display the fullness of your hair across your backs and turn to face the west!’ They did so, and immediately felt the heat of the sun grow more intense over their shoulders. They wondered what was going on behind them. The sun told them, ‘I have placed within your hair the seven colors of the sun! This will be very enticing to the men. They will want you to do things with your hair that you might not expect, so be prepared. It will excite them, and keep them around! What you must do now, you women, is go find the men. Show them your hair! Lay your hair across their members, and they can never run away again. Now take your stones and go! All I have said is true.’
The women left and did what the sun said.”

Silkie finished and looked at Panky.

Panky looked back at Silkie. “And you tell me that you are related to these women?”

“Yes. The seven colors of the sun are in the hair of all our women.”

Panky rose in silence and tipped back his beer. It emptied into his gullet. “Well, I for one,” he said, “am a young man yet, and my legs are still strong like Sidebelly’s legs were strong before he was tricked and captured. So I do no think I am the one you should be interested in.” He tossed aside the apron and clutched his buckle. He did his best James Dean. Silkie shook her head and laughed at him for a while and then lit a cigarette. “Panky,” she said, “you idiot. Don’t you know? It doesn’t matter what you think anymore.”

Copyright © Horse of the Sun and Keith Haines 1999-2002. All Rights Reserved.