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Juliette Elisa Sep 2012
Lousy days
Most days
Some days
It gets old. 

Ugly lies. 
Assumption ties
Your immaturity 
Into a bow. 

Two face 
Your face
Reminds me of a quarter. 
Head down tails up
You're nothing but a distorter. 

Some days
Most days
I can put up
With your face
But lately
Most days 
It's just a sad disgrace. 

Grow up
Show up
Teach your kid how to lie
Teach your kid how to hide
That second face they'll grow
To despise.  

But walk around
Like you know
How everything 
Suppose to be. 

Keep your head high
And keep your maturity low
Because those who can see 
Through your insecurities 
Knows just how far
Your fall will go.
Johnny Noiπ Oct 2018
All Anne had left to wear was the frilly gown Charlotte had made for her. Not exactly her style but she remembered with some fondness what ****** had said about presenting herself as a lady.
The Kid arrived in the dining room hungrier than he’d ever been in his life. The big woman had ****** out everything he had in him, in a good way, but he felt like he’d lost a few pounds.
“What’s for supper, Mabel?” he asked his voice somewhat unsteady.
“They’s mermaid soup, mermaid cutlets, mermaid fricassee, mermaid casserole, mermaid steak and grilled mermaid fritters.”
“Ain’t there nothing to eat besides mermaid?” he groaned.
“Seaweed,” she said curtly.
“Gadurnit. We’ve been eatin’ mermaids and weeds for days. How about an old fashioned T-bone?”
“You get the cow and I’ll cook it up.”
****** came in looking not at all amused, “Say, Kid we need you up on deck.”
“Yes’m, Mister ******,” said the kid following the cowboy to the aft where ****** pointed over the water.
“We’re being followed. Fritz said there’s a school of mermaids out there. They followed from the island so they can’t be friendly. Think you can pick ‘em off?”
The Kid took his hat off and wiped his fingers through his sweaty hair. “Shoot, Mister ******, that’ll be like shootin’ fish in a barrel, ‘cept it’s the ocean and the fish are mermaids, an’...”
“Just get to it. As soon as you spot one blow it’s ******* brains out. That’s the only way we’re gonna get rid of them. You’ve been with Anne Bonny have ya.”
“How can ya tell?”
“You’ve got her scent all over you. There’s only one ***** onboard smells like she’s been rolling in a soggy mud patch.”
“Gee, ya think Mabel noticed?”
“That gal lost her sense of smell a long time ago. Take care of that business and Mabel’ll be all over ya like always.”
“I reckon you’re right. Let’s shoot us some mermaids.”
“Now you’re talking, Kid. Let’s do it.”
Sinking far below the waves, the evil swimmers kept their telltale fins out of sight, gliding along with the ship’s shadow as it sailed beneath the bright waves. The Kid and ****** scanning the water eyeing only dolphin and shark. “They’re smarter than they look, Kid. I’d bet they put these varmints up to swimming around the boat so they could cook up a scheme. They may taste like fish but they think like women.”
“Gosh, Mister ******, ain’t that the best of both worlds?”
“I guess that depends on which end you get ‘em by.”
Soon after, sailing smoothly out of the Caribbean waters piloted by the old mariner Popeye and navigated by the allwise general, the Green Belle ran afoul of no other nemeses as it made its way down along the east coast of South America. With no real roles on the ship, ****** and Medusa found themselves spending more and more time with each other.
“Why don’t you do something with yourself,” she scolded.
“What?” he said on edge from her relentless rasping nagging.
“All you do is pace. Why don’t you make yourself useful. Fetch me a mint julep” she ordered haughtily; staying in the covers and bedclothes she’d been in for a week.
“Fetch? Fetch! What do I look like?” he growled meanly.
“I’ve been trying to figure that out,” she said snippily.
His eyes flaming he stormed from the room, Medusa paying his tantrum no mind.
Finding Perry with Charlotte in the study, ****** had finally had enough with the uppity Gorgon. “Perry, I need to borrow that contraption.”
Perry, startled making out with the handmaid behind a brocade curtain was just as surprised to hear ******’s request. “Are you sure, Mister ******? You told me you never wanted to see the temporal distorter again.”
“Not that. I’m not gonna mess with that. There are more things going on than you’ve dreamed up in your philosophy. I mean the ship, the Leaping Lizzie. I’m going to take her out and scout ahead. I just need to get off this ****** boat. Get a change of scenery.”
“That’s sounds like a splendid idea, Mister ******. Let’s go discuss it with Fritz. He has maps of the terrain. Depending on what you see we can make any necessary corrections.”
“You’re a right smart feller, Periwinkle. I’ll go scare up Fritz.”
“I’ll go prepare the ship. I’ll meet you up on deck.”
As soon as ****** had left, Medusa grew bored. She found him with Perry on deck standing before the crabship. “What’s going on?” she asked observing the mechanical tentacles at rest.
“Mister ****** is going off to do some exploring,” said Perry. “The Leaping Lizzie II is perfect to find out what’s ahead.”
“Oh!” she said gaily. “I’m going with you!”
“You are?” said ******.
“Let me get Dawn.”
“Dawn?” he said.
****** and Perry looked at one another incredulously.
“I wanted some time alone,” said the cowboy pensively.
“Fiddle-dee-dee! We won’t be any bother at all,” she said fluttering down the hold.
“******. Will I never be rid of that infernal woman,” ****** snarled.
“Now, now, Mister ******. Miss Medusa is only looking out for you. After all you’re only flesh and blood.”
“And she’s a primordial cosmic force. I get it.”
Momentarily the green goddess and her faithful Lady of the Bedchamber were hauling strapped leather cases and hat boxes on deck. “What the hell is all this?” he hollered.
Her eyes met his meltingly. “Why, Mister ******, you don’t expect a lady to go around in the same old dress all the time. We’re going on an adventure. Think about it; the unexplored Amazon! Who knows what kind of beasties we’ll run into!”
“And you want to be dressed for the occasion.”
Smiling she began directing Dawn in loading the ship.
Fritz came up with a rolled map and handed it to ******. “Here you are, ******. The Amazon is due southwest. How do we stay in touch with you?”
“I’ve installed a ticker,” said Perry. “The same kind we used to communicate with Mistress Medusa when she was off conquering the moon.”
******’s eyes flared hopefully. “Yeh. Say Medusa you be in charge of communications. It’ll be your job to stay in contact with Perry and Fritz. Think you can do that?”
“Why, sure, Mister ******,” she said politely, “Um, would you help a lady aboard?”
“Sure,” he said taking her small waist and heaving her up to the hatch, her petticoats billowing in his face.
In another time and place not that far away, Remy Clarke Savage found his life with renewed purpose. Esmeralda and their now several children resting in the shaded grove while he completed yet another monumental life’s work; a machine that would far outstrip the crude Leaping Lizzie in speed and capabilities, outfitting this new vessel with several cannons of Greek fire and exploding shells.
Captain Quick, Lance and Lizzie bonding as family were wary of the zombie hordes all around them. Vampyr mermaids dancing in the inland lake while the rotting crew sang haunted shanties, hoisting steins of ghostly ale. “Ay I’ll be glad to be off this deadman’s reef,” muttered Quick. “Can’t you hurry it along, Remy? I’m wondering if we’ll live through another sunset.”
The dead pirate who’d become liaison to the mortals was Lizzie’s second maid-in-waiting; a woman with two long blonde braids that steadily grew the longer she was dead. Her brain intact and her looks not completely gone. “Ay Captain, my mateys be starving and you bunch are the only meat left on the island.”
His fears confirmed, Quick replied sharply, “I thought your bunch was living off them mermaids.”
“They’ve all turned. Not a one of them is alive or breathing. They’s all vamps and we’z all zombies. Like I was saying you bunch be the only real meals left.”
“Meals?” gulped Remy.
“Is that reason enough to hurry it along, man?” called Quick drawing his broadsword.
Lizzie and Lance drew theirs getting to either side of the Captain.
“You won’t be eating no brood of my *****, missy,” snapped Lizzie.
“Ay that we be lest you can get us raw meat and some brains.”
“Remy!” hollered the Captain as the engineer made the final adjustments.
“She’s all set to go. Hop in.”
“We appreciate your stalling, lassie, but we’s be taking our leave.”
“Aargh!” shouted the pirate woman drawing her sword. The others clambering to groggy feet, weapons in hand. Mermaids snapping sharp teeth from the water’s edge. Esmeralda carrying an armload of children scrambled inside the vessel first, followed by Remy and Lizzie.
“Com on mateys!” he cried as Quick and Lance clashed steel with the lunging pirates. Lance getting inside followed by Quick, Remy quickly shutting the hatch. The behemoth raising up on articulated legs. The dead pirates swords were no match for Greek fire as Remy unloaded a volley onto the beach setting everything ablaze.
Feeling themselves being cooked in the shell Remy manipulated his creation to walk into the water continuing on to the open sea where he propelled it away from the irreparably devastated reef crashing in under its own sodden weight. “Ay there be me home for many a yarn,” he mused. “Now it’s gone.”
“Ay the ****** place was haunted; infested with the undead. That be no home for a living man,” said Lizzie putting an arm over his shoulder. “I be liking your firepower, Remy. How long can that hold out?”
“Indefinitely. Greek fire is inexhaustible.”
“Inexhaustible you say? What say we catch up to that Green Belle and give ‘er what’s her comeuppance?”
“Ay man they’ve got the key to a treasure that’ll be rightly ours,” added Quick.
by Johnny Noir & MEdusa
Michael Hoffman Jan 2012
RINZAI BOX

Had to have a psych eval
at the box factory
a human resources workup
to make sure
I could handle work again
making cardboard condos
for little mammal prisoners
of the pet trade
who live on hot windowsills
until someone comes to love them.

I got too depressed once
when I found tiny bunnies
mewling in a dumpster
their only refuge
yes
a box I had made
you could tell
it said assembled with care
by Kevin
and I missed a month of work
and got written up
for just being sad.

The shrink diagnosed me
a cognitive distorter
a predictor of worst case scenarios
but I disagreed
since I saw the sad bunnies for real
and he puffed up like a blowfish
stammering you’re the patient
I’m the man.

Well I’ve been around the zendo
so I challenged him
smartypants answer this…….
Do bunnies in boxes
have Buddha nature?

Irrational and pointless he said
hmmmmm I said
how do you know
maybe you’re a narcissist
on a psychobabble fugue
echoing in a therapy box.

But I have Buddha nature
and I put that in the boxes I make
and the Buddha bunnies go in the boxes
and you here in your Buddha office
are not separate
just uniquely boxed  
and the label on the bunnies' box says
assembled with care by Buddha.
Bo Tansky Aug 2018
I Got the News Blues

Heard them say
It’s an information explosion
A veritable feast from the chosen
Implosion, corrosion symposium

Round the clock news coverage
Underage plunderage.
Thunder-age,
Hunger-age.


Got you on the edge of your seat
Waiting for one to press delete
Wondering about tomorrow?
Here today, gone to sorrow

Got you on the edge of your seat
It’s the enemy we need to defeat

We’re all up in arms
Not with guns or mortar
About something some reporter
Importer, distorter
Coming to you from headquarters
With script in hand
Smiling faces, showcases
This is breaking news

Heard it all before
Give me the blues
They go well with the news.

Got you on the edge of your seat
Fears quite an aphrodisiac
Even for a maniac
Manias its’ own brand of crazy
Upsidaisy, theocracy, hypocrisy
Raised on the flavory
It’s awesome savory

Hear, Hear
Breaking news here
Take a seat
It’s about to begin
Kingpin, Lynchpin,
No spin, we win

Hoorah for our side
Upside, war bride
Goodness is out of sight
Please, don’t get upset
It’s just a staged set
Take a seat
It’s about to begin

It’s justified genocide
Said the distorter reporter
Only a few have died.
And

We’ll be back
After this intermission
Said with precision
Without a hint of derision

Waving from the bleachers
Behind all the preachers
Teachers, truth seekers
With a wink and a nod
A short message from our sponsor,
God,

And now for more news.
midnight prague Dec 2010
blurry images of black figures
fill the cinema in my head
a deep soft
creeping
passionate
whisper
seeps
in

she speaks like a distorter
of colorful images
blotted out
in the
pain
ful

we smile on the bench like wicked
I press my eyes on the skin
and I am far stricken
touching the
pale ill
inside

eyes that are filled with
slumber ancestry
mourn the funeral
of anatognized
lovers

breathe out
purging
lightly

turn to the side of dark
barcelona instristic in the wet
paris of your broken fingers
linger elegantly
with my dress of leather
take your hands
kiss them

banish crime of the wrong
ashes of the fire flutter
around me like doves
on a day of birth
I lightly lift my arms
so that the flesh falls on my hands
and I feel those things for the last time

creasing eyebrows
the frigid temples of these ancient ruins
hidden deep in forbidden valleys
carefully painted with a red smoke
of lips
the lines in palms
and feminine hips

laughter and screams fade out
with the pressing of things that
beat within small human chests
that may stop at any moment
we must keep going now
in search for a sacrifice
for the blood of harmony
in her smallest hope

do you feel the heavy burden of the white oceans
filled with nothing but sanitys affliction
lets throw our minds into those waters
carelessy
like the small
particles in the wind

the sky closes
the sun purges
the night runs to a haven
cross bred in between the two
we are in a place
we dont know of
and the muscles in my cheeks
shiver as I smile
finally.
Johnny Noiπ May 2018
The junk’s steam engine replaced with moving vent ***** the long ship glided from the mooring toward open water. Bob was on deck preparing to inform everyone of his scheme when from the dock came the cries of the little nun running at breakneck pace in her cumbersome black garb. Behind her and closing in a hostile mob carried raised torches and pitchforks in a sun being overshadowed by an ill-timed eclipse.
Several of the men swinging ropes as if a witch could be hanged more than once; but the vicious townsfolk were mistaken. Sister Ramera a faithful woman of god raised by nuns from birth and knowing no other way of life, was about to be lynched before their eyes as the ship slipped away from the dock. Using his distorter Bob was on the pier with the girl but now they were both cornered, open water at their backs.
Perry jumping across deck leapt into the Leaping Lizzie and brought her straight into the air. The townsfolk instantly distracted by the high oblong shadow with jointed tentacles for legs. The sounds of the screams outpaced the stampeding boots as every person fled in blind terror. Bringing the flying vessel gently to the dock Perry appeared from the hatch.
“It doesn’t look good for your friend, Bob. She’d better come with us. Her life is in certain danger if she stays here on Tierre Firme.”
“You heard the man, shall we go?” said Bob gamely.
Taking a last look at what would be her birthplace in another fifty years, Ramera saw the destroyed and satanically reconstructed brick church for what it really was; a dark pit leading to a darker emptiness. She had grown from an infant to a child into a woman. Now she was only a woman. The very last Hemera el Iglesia de Santa Papá Noel; the last Sister of the Order of Santa Santa. Bob and Perry assisting her into the crabshell, she settled in a heap of heavy black material as Perry took the controls and they lifted off. Perry and Bob eyeing one another knowing full well she wasn’t going to go around in habit and wimple. Ramera knew it too. What were Orders when there was no longer any order; when the devil had possessed the ground itself and turned the building into a synagogue of Satan.

— The End —