#crossover
An army of seagulls, like Amazons
guardedIng the gate to the harbor.
stopped him and before letting pass,
asked too many probing rude questions
in an impoverished language
dominated by caws and coos
and many other strange sounds.
No human ear can quite easily catch
"a fantastically foolish lingo",
his human mind sitting on
its high perch judged,
"If ever I have to learn this
how would I manage ?"was the anxiety
that made him judge, it seems.
Life in this twilight world of ours
hides full of surprises,on every turn.
He wouldn't be able to compare
one sunrise or sunset with any other
decide which one was better,
by any standard,
Uniqueness remains the greatest problem sans a solution here,
then, how could one surmise humans are superior to animals?
A cute seagull, a girl for sure, had shown a keen interest in him,
(her eyes were beautiful and she smelled really nice
hence the guess, that was corroborated later)
she tried to sit on his left shoulder as he walked forward
and tried to make friends with him, before any other could attempt!
She was eager to fix up a date with him, that evening itself!
"Do you think I am bit fast, abrupt?" she cooed
"Still a ****** at this age, don't you think
it's high time to worry about it, already?"
No expertise he has to calculate
a seagull's age, *** appeal and what the plumage suggests,
a stern looking seagull, obviously with some leadership role
stylishly lands in front of him, in a bid to impress, tries to enquire
about some membership card, that seems to be essential
bit exhausted, a humid day it was, he was amused
why should one be worried about the union interests of
the privileged seagulls in the harbor area, "Am I too one?"
That's when he had a suspicion crept in his mind
is the harbor gate crossing really means that he too is a seagull?
But yesterday was so wildly human, with it's follies all fallen in place
a rumbustious night he spent with his rowdy girlfriend
who insisted that her left breast loves him more than the other
wanted to test her theory then and there, and started to complain
gravity has started to work wrongly on her endowments
"Act fast": she would urge, fully drunk, she was cawing like a bird.
"Aren't these enough evidence to prove, I am not a seagull. Mr.Judge?"
his quivering words, dissolve in the cacophony of disapproving seaguells.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 7:36 AM UTC
-----------------------
18:29, dark outside
Hell of a day in lotsa places,
evil live all day long, all my child's life,
she was born just before the white Bronco
-------pret-t tedious tip to point to, see from
when consumer appetite rises to salute
for common sense,
stead-cam climb out of Sycamore Canyon,
----pretend assisted intelligence conceptualizes
conscious touch typing skills drilled during ever,
its natural almost Lamarckian collective conscience
per facile, fascia spiderkite silk collected cobwebs,
sticky trick I picked up from a cousin named Bonnie,
whose environs I shared, but they were poor, and
we had a fig tree, and we watered that tree,
from an automatic washing machine, and I
picked it, that one year we had that tree.
Me and Marie, my demented older sister, we
maybe the first public demons loosed unsuspected
wise as any serpentine leveling force in life, to this
point,
poetry trying truly to be food for thought, to this
end
tuned concentrated statistical evidence into cash,
if you believe in 500 tons of our refined *******
if you believe the exceptional sensitivity Paris H
felt deep in her heart,
honey, knowitnow, Y be
cause we love this idea, truth itself lives
in me, in the spirit of agreement, Sgt. J.A. Whykill
who swore to me he was not lying, he was s'posta
marry her, and I was s'post't'witness, say amen,
we agreed we consider the scenario, in ever, if-
when we take a chance, and think all day, alone,
and aware of many dying from some mad pride,
alone, contentions only come from angry pride,
old time religion,
regulation spirit mysteriosis, outside
kid from the farside called me mister,
interrupted my hermit's fantasy, may I live
in interesting times, amen, and so it is, I dare say.
Mar 5
Mar 5, 2026 at 10:10 PM UTC
True champions learn to dance through the storm.
And they do.
Until lightning strikes.
Feb 24
Feb 24, 2026 at 2:26 PM UTC