Sergeant Schultz Saw Everything

This sad world needs another Sergeant Schultz
That merry miles ponderosus who
Carried his rifle like a walking stick
And celebrated strudel instead of glory  
His innocent joy repudiated
The burning-soul ******* of war
In seeing nothing he saw everything
Through ordinary men living in hope
The liturgy of daily happiness -
This sad world needs another Sergeant Schultz

She, "City' cafe cat
But we would do
anything
for a cup of coffee right?
Where not the punctual
calendar girls day or night
The territories

(My Heaven's) steep spoon swirls
How it became the show
Guys and Dolls
Coffee of diaries souls
How a fortune of words
can burn a cup
One sip out of you just ****
At least my flavor trip
I did a lot of long walking
Sipping below his sea level
Hialeah slim blend
The firelight is
glowing
 Beloved by brown warm eyes firefly
This one is the long
sip to meet him bewitched

The Spanish fly
always on his cup trim
More Sambuca  Italian coffee
but why is this so long_
mouth stretching
Another long wait
To get the creamy shining
Knight
My light long
way home
Queen bee cream and
sugar delight, not honey
cleverly cupped
international trip money

The charming Knight
Over the coffee feeling
  camelback
She brews her
fulfillment
he massages her skin
On the fortune road
coffee beans "Parliament"
One long sip enjoyment
Brown leaf so Autummy
That long trip something
is falling
Good body flavor his calling
She neighed into
his love fire dim text
The desire long
extension
all wired

I just want — to — hold you — Egyptian

King with her cherries bing
I never heard of that coffee?
Got like jewels shall bling

One big fortune her vocal chord sing
we work harder to be more
golden winning goes to ___

The winner holding beans
Eyes of fortune Emmy fascination
(Sweet Carolina) honey so much more
blossom into her coffee such luster
bean amazingly guilty hey buster
Feeling so fortunate
how he reads into her expression

The Lord is my shepherd is coming
but hesitancy in her response
Then the next kiss would be with
her coffee embrace could he afford her
Also, her Sophia seduction like
styled camped
Safari how coffee became
the love cure for illnesses
how it healed hearts and asthma

(Her Vows) desireable boiled bows
Buganda Kingdom
I love you in the morning shore

What an obsession fortune beds
of Coffee, fingertips trailed to him
because he couldn't let her go
completely loving coffee and she

He cupped her in his
broad shoulders so he
Let’s be creative and
think of fortune names

Fortune:

Richest self-made millionaires
the rim of my coffee cup

I see a fortune flowing one long
trip faces glowing

Howard Schultz Forbes fortunes from scratch
I guess he saw his beans clearly no eye to patch
So the name like "Starbucks"
Knocking on heavily cup the
woodpecker chucks trip of coffee perks
That billionaire
secrets
is Facebook
Mark Zuckerberg
entrepreneur what a face
nothing more just faces
Will I get an idea the way they do?

Let’s open the (Gate Bill)
micro-soft computer,
French roast bold what was
really told
Hungary England how he
survived the **** Budapest
now he trying to save
other refuges with 500 million

Like her tiny cup of Turkish
heavy sediment Istanbul
Oceans storms her Grecian coffee
Also, her mind was dazzled but rambled
by the intruder
Leaving her all different coffee flavors
Like a fortune of familiar words
One knowing about coffee?
The “Spicy Taco” I felt I was in a
spiritual environment
of the Mecca in the holy city
Stephen when he went to her place
he would try so hard to protect her

Seeing the fortune coming inside the
amber water fountain
She knew his (Grecian Island)
flavors so well
with cardamon meet lovely (Cinnamon)
The coffee so sinfully the game
backgammon and chess

How love came in many Cafes parades
of the New Orlean Carnival
the Turkish armies "Parisian ****"
women and Men
Robes Pierre French revolution
What an evolution world cafes
Long ago far away 1600 Pope Clement
V111 pleasure full cup of Turkish coffee
very popular business thinkers

One golden ticket most expensive coffee
(Starbucks) the trip of a lifetime
(Cafe Nero)
Please bow to (Grace Kelly) coffee
Princess of Morocco how people
are looking more exotic back
in fortunes bed and ***
One long lie what to be said
Doing the Egyptian coffee dance
Exotic love Islands and France
How she Sophia waited for him in
bed nakedly the "Egyptian silky"
love sheets pour the crystal eyes
milky
((Fifty flavor))
shades of coffee her
eyes opened he
saved her with her
special blend
The depth of loving his hands
melted inside of her coffee
He was her love intruder
sending
her all his coffee flavors
For an instant, their eyes
met like the grains
of heat, she was drowning
in his honey brown depths.

Winnie the Pooh is trying to think
As are Plato and Socrates
While The Little Rascals get rambunctious
And The Marx Brothers cause calamities
Jim Jones stirs the Kool-Aid
And Georgie Porgie makes his move
Bo Peep and Miss Muffett start to blush
Red Ridding hood just swoons
The Muffin Man does a deal
With Johnny Apple seed
These beings and people our real
In our Surreal Reality

******* lets the paint splatter
And Moses parts the sea
Belushi buys an eight-ball
Bruce is on trial for obscenity
Rorschach is on the case
Right behind Sherlock Holmes
John the baptist goes for a swim
Along with Brian Jones
Jack and Jill meet Hansel and Gretel
They're hungry, they're thirsty
These figments of imagination do exist
In our Surreal Reality

Rasputin was so evil
As bad as Captain Hook
Now was it ** Chi Minh or Nixon
Who said "I am not a crook?"
Mao Zedong looked at Stalin
With a shared murderous grin
Booth stormed the Ford theater
And shot President Lincoln
Kennedy and King we're both casualties
Of the process of the deciphering
Of our Surreal  Reality

Zeus said to Aphrodite
"Wow, you look real good tonight"
And Handel says "Hallelujah!"
As the Wright Brothers take flight
Baby Face Nelson
Teams up with Dillinger
Moe, Larry and Curly
Mengele, Mussolini and Adolf ******
Three bears, three little pigs
Along with three blind mice
Sit together, while Maurice Sendack
Cooks them chicken soup with rice
Charlie Bucket had a buy out
Wonka gave up his factory
Fiction or nonfiction it's all a apart
Of our Surreal Reality

Chicken Little tried his best
To warm The Little Red Hen
Of the sly trickster
They call Rumpelstiltskin
Rimbaud applauds Leonidas
And his 300's final stand
Da vinci  paved the way
For both Newton and Edison
Folklore and war heroes
And those with intellectual mentality
Are all just pieces
Of our Surreal Reality

Wee Willie Winkie's scream
Wakes up Rip Van Winkle
But not Sleeping Beauty who's been asleep for thirty years
But has no acquired a single wrinkle
Caligula has lost his mind
And Nero's lost his fiddle
What does Beethoven's hearing aid
Have to do the March Hare's riddle?
Abbie Hoffman fights for civil rights
Thomas Jefferson for democracy
Products of the conceptual
In our Surreal Reality

Berryman writes an ode
To Washington's wooden teeth
Manson speaks of Helter Skelter
Neruda damns the fruit company
Charles Schultz frames the story
And Seuss gives it rhyme
Some where far, far away
Taking place once upon a time
And the villagers all had omelettes
Thanks to clumsy Humpty Dumpty
It's all food for thought
In our Surreal Reality

Santa brings us presents
And Cupid bring us love
But we can never get back
The members of the 27 Club
Warhol makes his movies
And Buddha meditates
Joseph Smith reads the golden plates
Mohammed and Jesus save
Theses figures bring people hope
In life's dualities
Trusting faith
And our Surreal Reality


Han Solo is in carbon freeze
Don Juan's preoccupied
Sinbad sets his sails
Simple Simon didn't get his pie
Caesar looked at Brutus
Brutus looked at Saddam Hussein
Hussein looked at L. Ron Hubbard
Who prayed to Eloheim  
Dionysus can out drink us all
We cringe at Achilles fatality  
As Ra soars through the skies
Of our Surreal Reality

Aristotle says to Shakespeare
"Well Billy you old bard"
Frodo trades the ring of power
To Fidel Castro for a Babe Ruth Baseball card
Biggie and Tupac write their lyrics on paper
Ted Bundy is put in jail
They're making another skyscraper
For King Kong to scale
Hemingway is too far gone
Kant's take on morality
Einstein says it's all relative
In our Surreal Reality

Churchill said victory
John Lennon said peace
Judas gave back the silver
Then hung himself in a tree
Tojo and Kim Jong-il
Wanna be as cool as Brando and Dean
George Carlin warned us all
Now Hermes leaves the scene
So do the butcher, the baker and the candle stick maker
Followed by Old King Cole and his Fiddlers Three
As they make their way to find
A sense or Surreal Reality

Odysseus pines for Ithaca
Paul Bunyan chops the trees
The Jersey Devil has not been found
Noah herds the animals by twos not threes
Anubis wraps the mummies
And Augustus leads Rome
Bugs Bunny laughs with Pryor
All at the expense of Job
So what can we all make of this
Is this all actuality?
Symbolism or nonsense?
Realistic Surrealism or Surreal Realty?

His back was slightly hunched, but not to the extent that a stranger would notice. His lip jutted forward, like an animal edging towards a precipice. He used his voice instrumentally. His clothes were generic. People would not remember him after a fleeting meeting, he was not regarded as a charismatic man. He was born in Gateshead, England, although his name was Schultz.

He entered the hotel with minimal fuss, neutrally. Schultz did everything with the air of a man who wished to leave no trace after him, unaware that he was being pursued and plans were in place to put an end to his existence. The youth at the reception desk, looked out of place, exceedingly handsome but in an androgynous way. It was very difficult to read the youth. He was all function. 'I have a reservation'' the youth opened his mouth to respond as the chandelier fell. The impact was fatal. A noteworthy end to a monotone man.

How she sipped her spot's
The rough part was the plot
The diamond's and her lip's
Got spoiled
******* by fairytale scorched
The straight line skirt and how
it raced

Her in her brown-eyed lady
Porsche
His coffee the same place
So steamed her face didn't you
spot him
Bitter tone to be bad sweet
Taylor Swift pour some sugar

On Me
On U
In my singer's mouth
$$$

Southern Hospitality
"Going Gothic" south
Out Staged the bag-
Coach striped ride me the
Coffee prints heated up
her patterns Niagara falls
Wild me a seven-year inch
Hot Latte Slim and tall

I see sugar all over me
Italian cafe custom pinch
The sugar raw
He stirred harder
Robin's furry-breasted fly
creamy dark moon bolder

Big sigh roar, just sugar pour
A cat which alley City walk,
Racer's mouth Cheetah
could talk
What a ferocious love, cat flight.
Cat eye's beam @ night

He covered me, kitten gloves,
warmth gentleman
But, Strong Trump, politician,
handling, his
delegates. "Sugarly" mates
Sour lime Australian mates
They slipped, their milk on
the wrong ballot spilled

The coffee fusion
Drips and leaks Reddit
To the high beans warmly brown
mountain "Summit"
So spilled Nixon with lies 
 Water-gates how about Bill
Coffee gates
He spot's her don't sugar coat me
chill burr (Surprise)
Cheetah chasing him.

But trying so hard to erase him.
Sweet tooth Swift pour some sugar
lyric's  spooning through, Stir me up
Please milk the cow highly allergic
right now
  Silk spool of thread
"Cat's Meow"
Threadless caress nuanced
Did the cat's tongue meow
pronounced.

Overdose of sugar

The flag stripe's and spot's
Hanging so tightly to the carriage.
Not you're usual
Poison my sugar marriage

Smooth talker whole- bean
body notes.
Sugar stirs of states.
"Love 1/2 Grain
"Orient Express" she spoke
faster than
speeding train.
Computer crazed tiger Dad's
Sticky Carmela always latte late.
I have two I pads spotted coffee

Twin crib
Adam and Eve's rib.
My sugar scrub in the tub
Perk me up. finicky personalities
*** in the City Sugar theater.
He's the Kit and caboodle,
Earthtone candy.
He was born with sugar
right spoon,
Coffee King handy

College  Princeton NJ frat
How did  Brandy get into the mix
Brooklyn movie set this is all
about coffee fix

Starbucks
Howard Schultz
our friend from
Canarsie, Brooklyn
big win
He didn't come over
for coffee then?
Lol
Starbucks power suits' all stocks

A+ a good set of lungs
Robin-Carretti sings.
Read all about it!
Central Park, Carriage rider,
took her hand,
how he roared
Gave her million smiles
Starbucks**
Coffee business,
  With one coffee cup,
one sugar cube YouTube
what luck gazillion's

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                     A Time Capsule for our Noblest Soldier

                          “In war I do not like to take sides”

                                         -Sergeant Schultz

If there must be time capsules buried beneath
Statues of bold men wearing uniforms
As a remembrance of man’s noblest ideals
Let us have one for dear ol’ Sergeant Schultz

A recipe for Hans' apple strudel
A bottle of his favorite Pilsner beer
A Cuban cigar from Colonel Klink’s stash
And a menu from the Hofbrau House

But especially the strudel

If we must honor soldiers, as some assert
Then let us include their favorite dessert

THE GREAT POOL TOURNAMENT



we are here at the Green bay packers football club, for the annual pool competition

and we have a great line up of pool champions from simon o’heary and brendan itato,

they are the players who fought it out in last years final, and this year promises to be a bumper

of a tournament.    


the first match is between samuel patrice and johnny carter, and samuel gets the break which is a beauty

knocking the number 14 in first and then knocked the number 12 in next and his third go, he attempted to

knock the number 9 in but missed by a whisker

and then johnny had his go, and he is on smalls, yep he missed the pocket with the first shot by the skin of his teeth

so samuel lined up with his next shot and knocked the 15v and the number 9 in, and only had 16, 10 and 11 to go

before the black ball, samuel was on a roll, and then samuel knocked the number 10 in, and there was no way he was

going to lose this game, no way, but then he knocked the 16 in and then straight away knocked the 11 in and then he was

on the 8 ball, and if he knocks this one in, the game is won, and the black was right near the hole, which was easy for samuel to sink

and he sank it, and samuel won, and johnny carter was out yet again, and samuel moved onto the next round, where he played the

winner of the other table, who was phillip cutherhead, and this was promising to be a promising match, so the referee tossed the coin

and phillip won and decided to break, and when he did he sent the ***** to 7th heaven, you see phillip beat 17 year old colin hayes,

who was hoping to ****** up the tournament, and when we interviewed colin, man, he was very disappointed but he knew that this year

wasn’t his year, samuel had the second shot, and by geez, he couldn’t have whacked a more perfect shot knocking the number 6 in the left

middle pocket, radical, samuel continued to show style by knocking 4 in right bottom and 3 in left middle and 5 in left middle and 2 in middle right

and 1 in middle left and 7 in middle right and then knocked the 8th in to win this easily.

the next game started with samuel and his opponent harry burns knocking each ball in 1 by 1 and samuel ended up winning this close match by a flukey

knock of the number 13 and the next shot on the 8th meant if you miss this you are going to harry’s  turn so he knocked it in and samuel went to the bar

to rest up till his next game.and watch the match to see his next opponent, and the match was between brendan schultz and simon weather by and brendan

broke and it was a ****** powerful shot and simon was left wondering what hit him, brendan was the third best last year and he was determined to become

2 times better and simon wanted to set a trap for brendan, so to speak, he had some tricks lined up, and brendan wasn’t shy to display these shots in the match

brendan did a trickshot knocking number 14 in middle right and 9 in bottom left and 12 in middle left all at once, which left simon completely speechless,

brendan ended up winning and was waiting for simon to finish his losers interview, so he can talk about that win, simon told the press a pack of wild bulls

couldn’t beat brendan in this match and then he congratulated brendan, brendan was happy to be in the final against samuel to see who comes 1st or 2nd


1.  they played the national; anthem of the USA

2.  Samuel and brendan stood back to back and the referee was standing behind them

3.  10 year old benjamin whaler tossed the coin to see who will break in the tournament final, brendan won and chooses to break

4.  brendan and simon had a arm wrestle in the lead up and on with the GAME in this bumper grand final


brendan broke and by geez he broke a beauty and knocked the 11 ball in and is on bigs, the next shot, brendan scattered all the ***** on

every corner of the table, and samuel had his next shot, and can’t believe he missed everything forcing brendan to have 2 shots, must be nerves

from the other two wins, brendan’s first shot knocked 16 and 5 in, which ruined the 2 shots that samuel gave him, samuel was very excited, he went

straight over to knock the 3 ball in and then knocked the 7 ball in and then nearly knocks the 4 ball in, but didn’t, and after that brendan sank the white ball

which gave samuel 2 shots, let’s hope he doesn’t do what brendan did, samuel concentrated very hard hitting the 3 ball in and then 1 ball in and then

the 6th ball in and then knocked the 2 ball, and without knowing it samuel was looking like winning the tournament, as he was 1 ball away from winning

the tournament, and samuel had his next shot but there was a lot of pressure, he sank the white and gave brendan 2 shots, which made brendan have

to concentrate, because he couldn’t make a mistake because samuel was on the 8 ball, brendan did a trick shot sinking 9 ball into middle left side and 10 ball

into middle right and 15 into right bottom, and then did another trick shot knocking 11 ball in the left middle pocket and 12 ball in the right middle pocket and

13 ball in the right corner pocket and 14 ball in the middle left, and both samuel and brendan were both on the 8th, the next whot brendan missed the right bottom pocket

and samuel had his shot and sank the black right into the top right pocket, which gave sam the tournament and brendan went out of the building refusing to talk to any member

of the press, the next step was



1.  brendan congratulated sam on his great win

2.   sam gets the trophy and says thanks to the crowd for making this all possible

the speech

i didn’t think i would win that last match

brendan was putting on some very good shots

and if it wasn’t for him missing that last shot

i wouldn’t’ have the chance, THANKS EVERYONE

and then sam held the cup over his head, and did a lap of honour around the pool hall, , and then the announcer said samuel, you are the best

and we will see you next year

GOODBYE

Brian Allans cry for help



Hi my name is Brian Allan and I have been kidnapped by a masked bandit,
I have no idea what he looks like because he grabbed me from behind, and
Before I could see him, I was kidnapped in the back of his car.
At first, I thought they were just targeting me,,but I noticed he had my friends
Brendan and Patrick, and they have been kidnapped for longer than me, and they
Are starting to look weaker as well.
I will look weak too, but it ain't my character to be weak, but this kidnapper
Calls himself the clean cut kidnapper, and suddenly as I am writing this, I am noticing
Brendam being beaten, and please someone save me, cause you can't beat up Brian
Allan, cause, mate, Brian Allan is too strong, it is one thing to kidnap me intially, but you
Are not keeping me. Cause someone will save me, or Brian Allan, me, will escape, so
You better make sure you are ready for my escape, you see, I am Brian Allan, who the hell are you, you see dudes, my hands are tied and they are hurting, but Brian Allan is tough, he won't die from this, I also have my legs tied, and I am suffering, and there is gag on my mouth so I can't speak.
The actual kidnapper of me, is Richard Swain, and mate he killed Paul Berenyi, as well AA Scott McDonald, and now he wants me dead as well as Brendan and Patrick, we are scared, and we want to be set free, because we are boys, and when me, pat, and brendan get free, we'll gang up on Richard Swain, and bash his little head right in, I can, cause my running makes me strong, and i will protect little Brendan, and I will also protect Pat as well, yes, I need to be set free.
Richard came back into the room, and laughed a weird heh heh heh, as he was looking at us ******* in his rumpus room, struggling to get free, and move on to the next phase of our lives.
Patrick was saying through his gag, I will bash that Richard Swain, when I get my hands and body free from this rope, Richard Swain is a dead man, and brendan said through his gag, I am normal, why have you kidnapped me with two intellectual disabled men, I am a kid, and when I get free, you'll regret the day you kidnapped Brendan Schultz, and Brian Allan and Patrick Enright, I just wish each of us can untie ourselves and do karate on these spastic kidnappers.
Brian then said through his gag, that Richard Swain isn't keeping them with him, and Brian Allan also said you aren't getting away with this, Brendan is normal, and this comes to a shock to you, me and Pat are normal too, and Richard Swain said, I know your normal, but I am a mentally disturbed man, who wants to kidnap normal young dudes so you dudes are doomed in this rumpus room, and none of you will be ever set free, heh heh heh heh
Pat and Brisn struggled to get free, because they are bigger and when they got free, Brian and Pat untied Brendan and very slowly got away, being careful the spastic Richard Swain won't catch them, they got away and after 1 hour they returned to their individual houses, and Richard Swain noticed we were gone, and suddenly the police arrested him. And after 3 months was sentenced to 23 years behind bars, while Brian said, you can't kidnap me fella, while Brendan and pat said the same thing, yes these boys were safe at home at last.

We are the boys who go out and party, and get into trouble, oh yeah we're bad


You see I went to the club to watch a really cool band
For starters it took a while to start and when it did
I was the only one dancing, you see I was the only cool one there
And I went to the Brumbies and I yelled when they dropped the ball
Saying we stink we stink we stink
Then after that we went to an old house in Wanniassa
And I knocked on the door and this lady answered and said
How are you little cool dude, I am the evil white witch of Canberra
Who are you, you fine gentlemen, who are you
I said I am Brian Allan, and I am the head cool boy here in Canberra
The evil white witch said, not for long, I have Mark Marlor and Brendan Schultz
Both captured in my den in the backyard, yes it looks like a chicken coop
And I want you too, because mate, you are a little brat who hangs around witch's houses
I tried to escape, but the witch before my eyes, zapped me in chains in the den
With Mark and Brendan, and this was going to be doom for us
The white witch wanted to feed us, because he wanted us to fatten up
For the big feast, which was in about 2 weeks from now
And these three Canberra kids are the Canberra kids who will bring peace to the city
For the centenary, yes the white witch was sitting in her chair saying I have the cool kids
Mark, Brendan and Brian were saying, we are the boys who go out and party
And get into trouble. Oh yeah we're bad, cause we end up being chained in an evil white witch's backyard den, and we are by all means doomed
The witch came down to the den and said, have you boys gained fat yet
You 3 can no longer be muscle boys, cause you are my prisoners
I have you forever, kiddies
The white witch made sure that Brendan,Mark and Brian were securely chained in so tightly, and then went on a little walk around Canberra trying to find more Canberra crowd kids to catch, and he walked past the Duffy shops and the white witch saw Luke Salvorg who was. Under 12 for Weston Creek and he was riding his bike down tbe road, and yes, like all sports boy, he thought he was never going to be kidnapped, because he was too loud and too fit, but the white witch waved her arms and suddenly Luke found himself in the witch's den chained up, he was scared and Mark Marlor, who knew him, said, we must eat, because we are going to be the food at a dinner party, you see we all are kidnapped by an evil white witch, and don't worry she only wants boys, because boys are tough
You see, we are the boys who go out to party and get into trouble, oh yeah, we're bad, cause we end up being chained in an evil white witch's backyard den, Luke said please mummy rescue me, please, and I want you to do it now



Sent from my iPhone

Amanda confidently made the first incision on the corpse, as she’d done many times before. Starting near the right shoulder, she pulled the scalpel through the layers of tissue down the middle of the abdomen. She bobbed her head as she worked, listening to Where Did the Party Go by Fall Out Boy. The pathologist turned away from the body and pushed her long black hair out of her hands with her wrist. Taking her gloves off, she turned the **** on her speaker. “My old aches become new again, my old friends become exes again…” She hummed the tune while securing her locks in a ponytail. Pausing, she picked up her phone and rewinded the music. She could have sworn she Patrick Stump sing the words, “Woah, where did the body go?” Listening closer this time, she started the song. “Woah, where did the party go?” played through the speaker. She shook her head and took another sip of her coffee.
She gazed at the ceiling, bright lights blinding her suddenly. “Jordan!” She waited for a reply. Nothing. She called again. Flustered, she sighed and looked over at the schedule pinned to the wall. Jordan wasn’t scheduled today, Amanda was the only one. “Then why did the lights- Never mind.” She was obviously just tired. Tugging on another pair of gloves, she picked up a pair of forceps and a scalpel and turned back towards the body. It was gone! She looked behind and underneath the table, thinking it had fallen. It wasn’t there. “****! How am I going to explain this to the family?”
“You can’t.” She jumped at the deep, gravelly voice. “Wh-who are you?” she asked with uncertainty. Amanda was too afraid to look him in the face yet. “That’s not important,” the voice replied. “We need you to come with us.”
“We?” She looked towards the direction of the voice. There were thirteen men in black suits with dark shades standing in formation at the door. “Why? Will you tell me where the body is?”
“Just follow us, ma’am. We’ll explain everything in the car.” She followed them out the door. The man who spoke led her to a black Range Rover with extremely tinted windows. Once they were in the car, the man introduced himself. “I’m Peter C. Schultz. I work with the MIB.”
“MIB? Like in that movie with Will Smith?” She sounded confused.
“Exactly. But we don’t get laser guns.” He smiled, hoping to earn her trust.
She laughed softly and looked out the window. “So was he an alien?”
“Possibly. The craft seems to have removed the body, sensing alien DNA in the area.” Peter looked over his shoulder, quickly pulled out of the parking spot and turned onto the highway. Amanda still wasn’t sure if she was awake. Aliens? MIB? A disappearing body? What if they had taken her instead? All types of thoughts swirled through her head.
They arrived at a large, nondescript building. She hopped out of the range rover and shut her door. The men lead her into the building and down the hall to an interrogation room.
“So, Ms. Browne, tell me. Did you notice any strange noises or lights at the time the body “Um. Yeah, yeah, uh, there was. I was listening to music and the lyrics sounded different. I replayed the track and it sounded normal. There was also a bright flash of light right before I noticed the body was gone. I thought it was my assistant, but they didn’t weren’t on the schedule.”
“We’ve heard of the lyrics changing before. The lights are different, they don’t usually come that close.” Peter sighed.
“Before? You mean to tell me people’s bodies have been stolen by aliens before? What the hell?!? Why doesn’t the government tell us these things?” She started to panic.
“Calm down, Ms. Browne. The MIB has it all under control. Amanda stared him in the eyes. “Really? Because there are BODIES missing! That doesn’t seem under control!” She was yelling at this point.
Peter took a step towards her. She continued to glare at him. All of a sudden, his eyes went black. Amanda was confused. This had to be a dream. A lizard like tongue flicked out of Peter’s mouth. Blood poured out of his mouth and dribbled down his chin. She screamed and tried to run. A hand with sharp long nails and slender blue fingers came up from behind her shoulder and covered her mouth. She was instantly silenced. Another hand pushed her back to her chair, the alien body pressing against her. She forcibly sat down. The hands let go of her. The terrified pathologist tried to scream but didn’t have the ability to even whisper. Peter’s form changed into a tall, blue, thin body with disproportionately long arms and neck. She shook from head to toe, when suddenly she heard a strange voice in her mind. It spoke in alien tongue but she could somehow understand it. It said, “Look into the mirror placed in front of you. Be terrified of what you see and know it is your truth.” With shaky hands, she picked up the piece of reflective glass lying in front of her. Bringing it to her face, she looked at the aliens and then herself. She stared back into cold black eyes. She opened her mouth and could see the lizard tongue curled up between her sharp, pointed teeth. She expected to be scared, but instead felt strangely content. She noticed a new hunger awakening from deep inside her. Amanda stood up and walked over to the aliens. Her own kind. She spoke in the native alien language she now had a name for, Kewalanaei. “Do you have anymore of the body left? I need flesh.” Peter grinned toothily and led her into a room where hundreds of bodies lay. They feasted.

Marcy Shultz was a typist.
She typed and typed the day through
but never wrote a single thing.

Each morning she would drink her coffee
with a sunken ring at the base of the mug.

It was her good luck charm,
an assurance that at one point in one moment
someone had truly, honestly cared.

At noon she would salsa with the air,
knowing **** well that she would later devour it.

But the air knew nothing,
Thought nothing, just stood there.
Air is naïve, and she was alone.

At night she would shower with the blinds open
figuring if someone looked, someone cared.

But nobody ever looked, and Marcy never blushed.
She'd type little tales on her little laptop.
Typed little stories of little couples

walking dogs
kissing in park benches
laughing at rude jokes
eating tiramisu in little cafés
weaving stories of passers-by
carving initials in wood
waking up in the dead of night
to hear the rhythm of the other's breathing
before
holding each other's hands
and whispering softly in the light of the full moon
flooding in like spilt milk from the cracked window
saying,
"We are together now
and if a moment like this is happening,
then a moment apart is only imaginary."
Then,
always,
always,
always,

The little couples would make love.
Their moans bled through the window
like timeless cries over the milky moon.

The cats in the alley would circle about the songs
echoing loud from the little couple's little love.

Then always, always, always with frustration
Marcy Schultz would toss the tales and go to bed
and the couples would live on in crumpled paper.

Looking back at photos of Christmases past.
An action shot of my youngest boy,
testing out his new hula hoop.

I can see my mother’s feet.
She’s sitting in her chair,
watching what must’ve felt
like the magic of the day
unfolding before her very eyes.

And, it was magic.
For a while her pain had subsided,
her knees didn’t hurt,
and she simply enjoyed her small,
nucleus, family as we unwrapped
the wonders laid out before us.

Her shoes,
the ones she deemed the most comfortable,
were yellow and black little tennies.

I called them her bumblebee shoes.
And, there they are in the bottom left corner of these last three photos.

Now, she’s gone.
Somewhere, around the corner, we say.
To the other side, we say.
But, she’s always near, we say.

And,
as I think of her now,
I imagine her as a drawing,
a cartoon,
like something that Bill Watterson
might have drawn up.
Bumblebee shoes,
looking a little bit like dinner rolls,

(That’s how Schultz described Watterson’s drawing of Calvin’s feet.)

her capri jeans,
showing her little birdie-like ankles,
and her comfy, orange Kool-aid Man shirt.

(I still have it.)

She’s still a bit wobbly,
unsteady on her feet,
but she’s doing okay.

So am I.
(Angela too.)
So’s Pops.
So are her grandkids.

We miss her.

And,
this Christmas is different,
that’s for sure.

But,
she walks into my thoughts,
coming from the kitchen of my memories,
carrying a cup of coffee
or
a plate of something wonderful for me to taste.

And, she’s always wearing her bumblebee shoes.

*
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications 2018

THE ALLAN FAMILY STORY




YA SEE ME AND MY BROTHER WERE TEASING ONE ANOTHER AND OUR FIRST

FAMILY PET LADY GOES MISSING, AND SCHOOL KIDS SAID IT WAS WEE, BUT

IT COULD’VE BEEN PINEAPPLE JUICE, AND I STARTED UP A BOWLING LEAGUE

CAUSE I WAS GETTING SICK OF MY BROTHER BEING THE ONLY SPORTSMAN

IN THE FAMILY, SO I JOINED THE BOWLING AT THE BELCONNEN BOWL, MET

TWO NICE FRIENDS TRISTAN AND JASON LEE, I ENJOYED PLAYING WITH THEM

UNTILL A MATE GOT ME INTO HIS LEAGUE, WHERE, MY PROBLEM WITH MY BOWLING

STYLE AS A KID, I TURNED MY HAND, BUT I HAD FUN BOWLING, IT WAS GREAT

AND EVERY THURSDAY NIGHT WAS THIS BIG NIGHT, I MET CRAIG AND JODIE

WHO I DEVELOPED A CRUSH ON, BUT CRAIG SAID, SHUT UP FATTY, JODIE’S MINE

AND CRAIG AND JODIE WERE TEAMED UP WITH ME AND LYLE, YA SEE LYLE HAD POWER

AND GOT MORE STRIKES THAN ME, AND JODIE WAS A COOL, PRETTY SWEET GIRL

BUT CRAIG WANTED HER, BUT YA CAN’T BLAME A GUY FOR TRYING, AND THEN

CRAIG HAD A MATE NAMED BILL, WHO INTRODUCED TO ME AND LYLE, AND HIS KIDS

WERE SIMILAR TO BRAD, RANDY, AND MARK ON HOME IMPROVEMENT, AND I REMEMBER

WHEN I GOT A STRIKE, I CHEERED AND WHEN I MISSED I WENT OH DRATTA, AND

BILL’S KIDS, WERE PLAYING AROUND, WHILE BACK AT HOME, MY DAD, MUM AND BROTHER

WERE WATCHING THEIR TV PROGRAMS, AND AFTER I FINISHED, I PLAYED WITH

EVERY KID AT THE BOWLING ALLEY, SAYING I WILL CHASE YOU, AND THE KIDS SAID

RUN RUN AS FAST AS YA CAN, YOU CAN’T CATCH ME I AM THE GINGERBREAD MAN

AND I GRABBED ONE KID AND TOUCHED HIM INAPPRIOTELY ON THE MOUTH, AND

HE RAN TO BILL, AND BILL AND CRAIG TORE STRIPS OFF ME, I WAS SAYING

I AM A KID, JUST LIKE THEM, CRAIG SAID, SHUT UP FATTY, AND GO HOME

AND THEN I DID YMCA BASKETBALL, WITH MY BROTHER, AND HIS FRIEND

MY TEAMS WERE THE BLUE BLAZERS AND THE WANDERERS, AND EACH

TEAM WON A LOT, AND I SCARED A FEW KIDS, BUT I WAS NEVER THROWN OUT

OF THERE, I SHOWN UP THERE DRUNL ONE DAY, THE GAME WAS COOL

BUT ALL THE TOM FOOLERY, THAT WENT ON BEHIND THE SCENES

WAS WEIRD, I REMEMBER FRANK’S MATE ROBERT, HATED HOW I GRABBED HIM BY THE MOUTH

AND I WENT TO LYLE’S FLAT TO SLEEP, AFTERWARDS, TO WATCH TV

BUT I AM NOT THE KIND OF PERSON FOR SLEEPOVERS

I PREFER TO STAY AT MY HOME,

I WENT TO A LOT OF YOUNG DUDES HOMES

YA KNOW, JUST TO MUCK WITH THEM , YA KNOW GET ****** AND FUCKEN ****

MY FAMILY HAD A NEW NEIGHBOUR, THE CRABBY BUS DRIVER AND IN CAME DAVE SCHULTZ AND HIS WIFE

AND THREE KIDS, COREY, BRENDAN AND CANDICE, AND I SWUNG THEM AROUND

IN THE FRONT YARD, AND AS BRENDAN AND CANDICE CAME OVER ALL THE TIME

MUM AND DAD SAID, I DON’T WANT THESE KIDS COMING OVER ALL THE TIME

BUT THEY WERE TYPICAL PARENTS, AND ME AND PATRICK, WENT TO SEE JIMMY BARNES IN CONCERT

AND EACH NEW YEARS EVE, PAT WOULD HOST THIS GREAT NEW YEARS EVE BASH WITH US AND HIS FAMILY

SO I WAS A GREAT PERSON, BUT THERE ARE MORE GREAT STORIES FROM THE ALLAN FAMILY ARCHIVES

Sometimes when I write, I'm quite trite, but I feel like it's alright
Because cliches shine bright for a reason,
And even that adage is one that's grown to be cliche in the passing seasons.

I'm trying to find my niche in this clique with that ******* Nietzsche,
But with only a quick hit of cynicism so I can better allay
My wicked mind and others like it when they're led astray
In this filthy ******* ashtray we call society.

****, I just relapsed, to my dismay,
Back to this pessimistic disarray.
Time to relay the baton back to positivity.
The track is winding and long and it might take a couple days,
But in the end it's worth the race to dispel this malaise.

Existentialism's universal insignificance seems quite insignificant
When you're surrounded by an unprecedented presence that gets spent
Embracing your spirits and relieving the stress
Presented by the pretense of living in the present tense.
I'm receiving presents of intertwining limbs wrapping up tight
And smiles that stretch on all through the night.

These gifts provide stability to cognitive dissonance and
Bring silence to internal cacophonous disturbances
Presented by the manifestation of autophobic tendencies
Being faced as a penance for pretending to be
A tenant of a higher intellect, when in actuality
I was evicted from the rental life
Because I spent all I had on observing internal strife.
Deducing "important" conclusions that are now more or less lost in the abyss of adolescent confusion.
Flicked away with the butts and roaches to fertilize the pavement.
I still haven't quite learned how to behave yet.

Time to reconnect with my potential.
Time to spit something influential.
Thinking about time is bound to make you go mental.
Just rip the arms off the clock and stick them in your back pocket, or pin them to your chest and wear them as credentials.
By the power of Chronos!
Did someone alter the past or is this just coincidental?!

Jack of all trades, being mastered by none.
I don't believe we should sell all our passions and possessions to invest in just one.
See, I'd prefer to do it all, skip the cash, and just run.
Might as well do what you love for the sake of love and having fun.
Motivational status. Learn this, you must, young padawan.
See, this stanza's so hot-topical it can reach anyone.
Am I speaking your language or cookin facts well past well-done?

Everybody's a contradiction, so why be a slave to an opinion?
I'm just a student of the human condition.
I'm adjusting my brain sack to sit back in the academic position.
I wear slacks like a hack because I was cut too much in the past,
And you know what they say,
"You are what you eat" or "You wear your heart on your sleeve",
In this case, though, my sleeve is my pant-leg, and I ate so much slack
That during the bereavement of my beliefs I dry-heaved so painfully that
Eventually I couldn't help but to yak.

Now I'm cut from a new cloth with a diamond-tipped saw
Because I reaped what I had sewn into the fabric,
Ripped what I thought I had known to bits out of habit,
Scattered the remnants into the super-heated granules mixing alchemystic magik.
Combined the metals and materials to make this beautiful stained glass in the attic.
It's cool now. Fragile though.
But when the light shines through, oh,
Would you look at that? The world's painted to look so much more colorful.

Mercury Rising fresh out of retrograde,
Shines through the colored spots in the window pane,
And casts long strands of shadows where the lead is laid.
It's quite a **** night to be alive in this place.
But too much mercury and too much lead
Will leave you with rot in your gut and sick in your head.
You have to be sure the planets are aligned and the elements are balanced before heading off to bed.

Tisk tisk, don't forget about the task, Pat.
You can't carry all of your eggs in one basket.
The weight of the ones on top will eventually overcome what's beneath the surface and crack it.
Now, I'm not saying that you can't have it
Or that you should run away and never look back.
ACK! That ****'s so wack, Pat.
Carrying a pack dripping with shells and splattered embryonic sacs.

Don't walk in the ditch on either side of the path, stay right in line with the fulcrum.
Don't get the thread loops crossed in the side-saddle stitch, or swing too fast with the pendulum.
Stop yourself from having a fit and throwing a tantrum  
When people slip your name between their lips and slap you with a diss, brat.
They only know the this side of that, and you don't even know the half.

Oh, brother. Rats. Nuts. Crap. Drat!
I went for the kick and fell flat on my back.
Hang your head and shuffle your shoes like an old Schultz cartoon.
Nah, kick rocks, you buffoon, I don't need your **** blues,
Especially if it comes in the form of a security blanket.
I will bring a towel though, in case I panic or get wet.
The galaxy is nuts. Peanuts to be exact.
Here's a complimentary pack for your flight.
Shut your red eye and recline.
Relax, everything is *fiiiiiiiiiiiine

The kidnapping of Brian and Mark. Yeah they're both with the great gullet dude




You see one day at the Belconnen bowl, Brian Allan and Mark Marlor, were talking to each other, you see Brian Allan was 32 and Mark Marlor was 11, mark really liked Brian because he didn't want to hassle the kids, he wsnted to be their friend.
So after both Brian and Mark finished bowling, they went into the cafe and there was this strange man who was looking at Mark Marlor's shiny 11 year old kid legs and he noticed Brian Allan hardly any hairs on his legs, and Brian was a man, but because looked like a kid, the man wanted to grab him as well, so when Brian and Mark left the bowling alley, the man got out two bags, and into one bag he put Brian Allan, and the other was for Mark, the kidnapper said, I finally have, Brian Allan, yeah I have wanted that for months, and yeah, I really want Mark Marlor, yeah, Mark you ain't a fucken kid, then the kidnapper said to Steve, who was Mark's father, yeah, I will never give this kid to you, ever and ever again,
And he went to the Allan family and said, Brian, is now with and like us, you see he is now like Mark Marlor, no he isn't like Chris, so suffer, Brian Allan, man, you are not like usses
Anymore, Mark, you are with him, cause you put tape on your mouth, yeah, you are now with me, forever, and you ain't a family person anymore.
Mark and Brian, in the back of the truck, were yelling out, help, let us out, we are too cool little kids, but the kidnapper said, no, everyone else are kids, and Brian Allan and Mark Marlor. Are kidnap victims, and you 2 will never be free, and I will make both Brian and Mark, little young dudes to a kidnap, and I will fucken make sure, that they will never be family people ever again.
Mark was yelling through the duct tape. Stuck on his face, you can keep Brian Allan, because he is a hooligan, but let me go back to bowling, I want to say, that Brian's over, but the kidnapper said back to Mark, yeah heh heh heh heh, his funs over, but so is yours, yeah Mark Marlor, you are not a family cool kid anymore, you are a little cool kid to a kidnap, just like Brian Allan, yeah I have you both.
So the kidnapper was driving on the road with both Brian Allan and Mark Marlor ******* tightly in the trunk, and despite them wriggling and wriggling, oh yeah they were, the kidnapper didn't care, oh no.
And as the kidnapper drove on Cohen Street, in Belconnen about 3 in the afternoon, he noticed young 17 year old Brendan riding his roller blades down the Cohen Street hill, and then as he passed the kidnapper's car, Brendan fell off his roller blades, and the kidnapper got out to pretend he was a good Samaritan, but instead of that, he got an empty bag, and put Brendan into it and them he threw Brendan into the bag, and then the kidnapper went, yes, I have kidnapped Brian Allan, Brendan Schultz, and Mark Marlor, these kids will never escape, yeah I have them, oh ****** yeah.
Then the kidnapper went to his house in Mcgregor, and then he put Brian, Brendan and Mark into his room,and locked the door and said, heh heh heh heh, you dudes will never escape, you see, you three are happy kids, well, now you will fucken ****** die.
Noe Brian, Brendan and Mark, were yelling out, help let us go, please we are fucken being held for ransom, and we are three poor kids, but the kidnapper is threatening to **** these 3 kids, and them hold us all for ransom oh yeah, but then the parents of the3 victims, came to save them, you see they saved Brian and Brendan, and they were allowed to go, and told to never come into their area, but he killed Mark Marlor, right in front of Steve and said your kid is evil, so suffer Steve, and Steve said. Mate. I am glad you killed my son Mark, cause he is a little family kid, who is annoyingly happy, yeah, thanks mister kidnapper you did the Marlor family a favor, so from that day, Brian and Brendan tied themselves up to avoid that again and from that day they were trapped in there, and never to be adults again, the kidnapper was put on the firing squad.
The end


Sent from my iPhone

I've traveled for an eternity searching for the light that I have lost many years ago, stumbling and crawling within the escapees of darkness I've learned that the my essence of purity has always been close by but as my blindness of acceptance caresses me I find it difficult to maintain what was once my light.

I stand beside you and continually ask of you to answer me as I wonder how you are able to love through all your past turmoil.

Can you be so kind to offer up to me an explanation of my departing beauty, why do I feel so alone when I am surrounded by hearts that can still display their elegance of life, why do you turn away from me what have I done.

This is how I'll now become my secluded misfortune.

The emancipation of my bottled up wretchedness will soon prove to mankind that all I have ever been is the guide for all to enter the light but as of now I will patiently pace the floor of the world.

I am now a guest in your arms.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

I can sing The Animals poorly to my son a million times and he will never understand what that song does to my heart

I wrote a song once he calls it The Ocean Takes Her and loves it
Asks me to sing it **** near every night
Nothing like making your son smile with the memory of your great heart break

It’s strange to make up meanings to my tattoos when customers ask why I have them
The boss says I can’t tell people about my depression and familial disappointment
So I make up stories about this one time I met Charles Schultz’s wife
People seem satisfied with my made up answer to their polite conversation question

I have lost lovers
To this day I still can’t figure out where I put them
I mean I’ve checked under all the couch cushions

My door is never locked
I know she knows where I live
It’s just that she left her key on the counter
And I don’t want a locked door to be the reason
I mean aside from the whole other life she’s living now

I spend hours watching compilation YouTube videos of the best The Voice Blind Auditions for other countries
You know, The Voice UK, The Voice Thailand, The Voice Sweden
I do this exclusively when I should sleeping
like the 2-4 o’clock hours of the still last nights
I can’t tell if I really like them
Or if they are just entertaining enough to keep my mind occupied
I guess if I make it through the night it doesn’t matter which

The older I get the more I relate to Charles Bukowski
Not the poet, of course, the man
The broken
The bitter
The lost
The never found

I could never write a poem gritty enough for the punk rock crowd
My sadness isn’t gritty
It’s sad

My stomach is 73% beer at this point
But I don’t often get drunk any more
I just forget to *** in the mornings

I really should clean this house
There’s no telling when she might get here

But before I let you go
I can never really tell if the her in my poems
Is one of the ones that have already broken my heart
Or the one I’m still searching for
Sometimes I give you too much credit
But I always know when it’s you,
You’re the only one I call you
The rest are just her

Bye now

The emotions that were created to please have taken a plunge into the misinformed vision, you have become drained as your actions have placed a negative perception on who you are and what you show, displacing the strategy of your intentions on the light somehow became dark after your selfish temptation started taking control, now the abandonment of love crushes the very dream you had wished for.

Within the time of this creation of false reality you have become blind to what is true, now all you can do is focus on the path in which you have traveled, with this hellish outcome in the open I have come crawling on my knees begging myself for an explanation of why I embraced the fool within, I have taken in the pain, yes the feeling is of being lost inside.

No one to turn to

No one to run to

No one to hold on to when times of penetrating caress form within you.

I despise these decisions.

The one of destruction took away from you, the one thing that would keep you wrapped up inside the arms of security.

Change has to come, indefinitely, this decision will overrule the wrong.

The torture makes no sense.

I lower my head in disbelief.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

mr ronald speckleton, the 1100s magician




you see in  the 1100s, there was this man named ronald speckle ton, who to a lot of people

was a real joker, right from the tender age of 1, he’s the son of peter and prue, who were

too ****** realistic , and in those days realistic was a big thing with no TV an d all.

robert through every day of he teased his mum and dad with silly little practical jokes,

he also put cuffs on his hands and said the police have me in their horse and cart,

can you save me mummy and daddy and then said, the bushrangers have me kidnapped

in their cave, save me, and his father got out the snippers, and boy was he angry, but ronald was having fun

doing this, and, yes, it was under his parents expensive, ronald joined stage coach road trips to try and be noticed

and everyone laughed at his jokes, thinking he was a funny dude, he was a good magician for 5 generations

all of ronald’s friends thought of ronald as being a fun loving guy, who loves the world of magic

and ronald would do clown shows to all of his chums, and all the kids and members of the general public loved him

ronald tried to pull a rabbit out of his hat, it never worked, and the crowd yelled out boooo hiiis boooo hiisss

and ronalds friends and parents said it’s over, but it was fun while it lasted, but ronald was determined to make his magic happen

and then his friends said, how about if you can put on a regular show for the king, and  and ronalds best friend roslyn resin

was given the title of girl being cut in a box, you see roslyn would get in the box, and ronald would put swords in

the box, and yell, abracadabra and roslyn walks away unharmed, and the townsfolk who don’t believe in magic

and then, roslyn resin and brendan schultz were dragged by ronald down to the sea, where ronald tied them up

and threw them in the lake and yelled out ABRACADABRA, but they never escaped, because there was no such thing as magic

both these kids died.   when ronalds parents found out about the body in box experiment, they drove the stage coach away from this weird life, saying ronald

isn’t ready, and they moved into this town where everyone liked ronald except for this bully who hated ronald because, he was brendan schmaltz’s little brother

ronald was determined to get these tough kids to like him, so he showed him his magic tricks, but brendan’s brother said, he will tie you up

and leave you in the ocean, and ronald said, how about we play a game called tie the bully up, but as ronald tried to touch brendan’s brother

he said, get off me ya little freak, and the next day ronald and all his chums were brine watched by a weird predator, who has plans to lock them in his old fashioned dungeon

and then at the stroke of midnight ronald and all his chums were ******* in a stage coach and driven to  the mt georgia volcano, as hot as a

giant oven and ronald escaped from the stage coach just as they stopped, and because there were only 2 people who driving, so ronald ran back up the road, and after two weeks

ronald arrived at his parents den, saying, the other kids were thrown at the volcano and that christmas, when ronald was 12, a man dressed up as santa

kidnapped and murdered ronald, and cut ronalds head off, and threw him to the sharks, and the head was being brought to the stern of the ship, and

i believe the only thing that died in ronald iwas the body, the should will be passed onto each earth body year by year, now, the should is in his latest life, ME

totally cool dude

Squandering the touch of blind innocence, the irrational yet captivating sight of knowledge will now lay within your hands, please do not punish for she is all I have, the stain of torturous emotions have covered her mind and body in scars unseen, will you finally replace the one whom is its creator.

I find myself wanting to disappear as these visions embrace me so, the unknown has become quite clear to me, they will only leave upon death, apologies have went disregarded, as they have experienced those words before, actions become faint.

I see that I have drove you mad, communication has been deflected, now I will take the wheel to your soul, tears, tears, tears, in the hollowness of your hiding spaces I will be there to catch you, once more the flames will rise, the chosen side is wanting you.

I turn my head as they stare and mock me, their eyes are to piercing for my look any further, their movement, empty.

Considering all that is lost and forgotten I will try not to fall without finding someone to please.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

Remembering
Drive-in
Take a dive
Bungee
jumping

Marathon Race or
Dodge me poker face
Jerry Lewis
all laughs Wild cheeks

Her homemade fudge
Can pick up
anyone's desire weeks

The dodge brake
Oh! Please me
For Heaven sake
A love big mistake

Reincarnation__*
Dodge leaks life stinks
Hail the plumber
As fast as Mary blinks
Jim  Carey on
dumber To abuse the
Hummer

BMW the beamer
Rejoice
The car oil
leaks purple

((That Dodge Divorce))
Here's Joyce
to drink Saturday
Night Johnny
Drenched her thirst
((Snapple))

Tire flat as a
Pancakes
I Hop  mouth racer
A-D-D American
Donald Duck
Starbucks any luck
Robin knew
the CEO
Howard Schultz
in Canarsie
Babalu skip (LOU)

Dodge Star dipper
car racer (D) cup
Flags her down
Like a homemade fudge

The 50's antique cars
The Preacher can melt
your brain
The homemade fudge
Was dripping

He auctions car collection
Affection her imported cars
with fudge ice cream
the seventies
Disco All straight long hair
In the middle
His beard so gritty
Topsy car Turvy
Curve  your car
Enthusiasm

Cars and Coffee
The Comedians
Became naughty
Mothers beach house
Homemade
fudge
Could win
over
and melt
any Judge

Dante' Dodge battery
Mesmerized switch
Her eyes like fudge
Regardless
the forties
or fifties
Sorority college
Dodge authority
the twenties is not
a Priority yippee
We can do what we want
The computer Hippie
Emails hot fudge

((Those Viruses
Minds))
Whatsoever

Please with a
  but in between
Innocently
sweet
Alabama
Miss Charlotte
Sweet Carolina
What could
ever be finer
Then molasses
Then we age we
are linked
into chains
on our neck
with glasses

The competition
Move quickly
the dodge right in

Time for the fifties
roller skating
My Prospect Park
me ice-skating
Too many people
heavily mating

The struggle and defeat of our unimaginable obstacles, on many level intolerable as others will never understand, for our union can only be explained by this all consuming reunion of souls in love.

You have been touched by the light that you have selfishly ignored for far to long now, compromise is a necessity no more, purity is the only path needed to follow, it is now time for you to prepare for your homecoming.

As the silver lining is described formalities are laid to rest, rest in peace darkness my old unfaithful friend, the scapegoat is released from its cage, watch now as I perform a miracle.

I am me.

The show is over.

A fictional existence is a spiritual death.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

I live on.

Horrendous failure will only occur if I turn my back on the reasoning of wanting to show you euphoria, you've not become evacuated from my mecca of creation.

I've only come to show you that my willingness to learn who you are is forever a drive that will never vanish from my heart, you've been pronounced my friend of travel.

So closely we've balanced our happiness on the line of capture, no more will the company of exposure advance our purity into the aphotic of our entity, soaring doubtlessly.

Written by: Christopher M. Schultz

As the unveiling rivalry of our souls naked collision commences we will surely admit to one another that this is where we belong, a marvelous existence we are as we enter into harmony and join together as one grand explosion, the ones watching will feel envy but they will also know that the potential they poses is just as ours.

It sure is stunning isn't it this beauty I have announced, now I will direct you into the fire but I will be there with you, punishment can not be hidden, the explanation of your beliefs are now evaporated.

You have guessed it my friend, you are no different then I.

I am your fear.

I am your heart.

I am your love.

I am your exit.

I will be patiently waiting in the dark as I conceal my light.

You may not find me because you are me.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

Turn the page, can you see that the pages have been erased, my shivering turns into screams, my heart pounds for instant gratification, I've found the lonely, I've found the love, instantaneously I fall to my knees.

Confrontation in front of my mere reflections, yes the faces are many, entertainment has rediscovered the hollow.

The weight of disorganization, I follow you as I catch a fading smile, don't turn to me wanting comfort, an execution of inheritance is long overdue.

Drifting into a flurry of cascading thoughts, my unsung influence is closely analyzed but you will be the one witnessing the unfortunate, establishing the quest is the ending to mistreatment.

Now back into the tunnel, a constant visual of the agony of my children, the purity of spirituality begins to cry.

Talent is not a description, the true pain of it all is feeling it all.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

Searching the valleys and peaks of this world, I've come across a vision so pure and yet so passive that the love streams from every pore of my being, can you embrace the positive as I close in to welcome you to my heart, feeling faint and cluttered with compassionate togetherness, I feel myself becoming more open to accepting the journey of love.

Empowering the foundation that holds steady before us we begin to open one an-others eyes, for this is why my tears of happiness continues to tare down the walls of my own disguise, involving the purification of combining those who can hold onto the light is an experience that I've once grasped.

Now and forever, I feel home again.
Without darkness
Without deception

Within my spirit, my wings are soon to spread.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

O FORTUNA!
("You Will Become Yourself")

She's three.
A distinct reek of Old Spice!

"And who's been splashing on
my aftershave!"

I growl in my best
Daddy Bear voice.

"Me...me!"
she answers in her best George Washington.

"Mummy's perfume
smells yucky sweet!"

She a good judge of smell
this little girl.

What is...what isn't nice
sides with the Old Spice.

"So. Are we right then?"
I ask.

We go for a walk.
The cat on the leash.

Because.
We haven't got a dog.

And so we head off.
Dad, cat and little girl.

The cat none too pleased
at "What's that meow smell!"

Old Spice
not for cats.

Only for
Dads and daughters.

*

Old Spice is the smell of my Dad...it is forever him.... deeply ingrained in the olfactory memory of many generations...the essence of childhood thus becoming an archetypal perfume that stands for all things that he meant...safety, warmth, and security.
It was what I always gave him as a birthday and Christmas present....saving up all my pennies to be able to do so and foregoing chocolate and sweeties all during the year. My mum on the other hand
was always the equally iconic 4711. I still have both in my bathroom even now...how Proust like!
So it was odd to pass it on to...my daughter.
Her mum said it always reminded her of a Mexican drink called Horchata de arroz which is flavoured with the Aztec Marigold. and made her feel drunk even if she hadn't imbibed.
Darling daughter said it smelt of mummy's potpourri on the coffee table.
Oh and of... Daddy.
Old Spice was founded in New York by William Lightfoot Schultz in 1934. He was a soap and toiletries maker, and his first fragrance was, ironically, a woman’s scent: Early American Old Spice.
It is said that Shultz was inspired by his mother’s rose jar when creating this early version of Old Spice. A rose jar usually held a moist potpourri of rose petals, spices and herbs in a base of salt to preserve them. Those notes can still be detected in Old Spice’s products to this day. This perfume was released in 1938 to great acclaim, and he followed it with some men’s products in time for Christmas sales at the end of the year.
Although the original scent of classic Old Spice has most likely changed with time and reformulation (as a number of fragrances do), it still retains its primary scent profile, and it could be argued that it represents its own classification. Unlike many other men’s scents that fall easily into labels like fougère, leather or musk, Old Spice brought carnation, pimento, nutmeg and cinnamon to the forefront, omitting some of the classic men’s notes of pine, vetiver and lavender. This iconic mixture summoned up images of seafaring explorers and adventure, but the image and reality were often the same: Old Spice found its way wherever American G.I.’s were stationed during and after the war, and this helped to influence its proliferation around the globe.

As James the first of Aragon was supposed to have said in his best Valencian: "Açò és or, xata!" ("That's gold, pretty girl!")

Excuse me as I lift your brow….

The stairs in front of me beckon me so persuasively to travel them and to follow them down to where they will lead me to the enviable, but I stay silent and motionless knowing of what I have selfishly created, for my surprise arrival they will impatiently wait to embrace.

The oddly welcoming gates to the hellish arena are opened, only now will I truly be revealed to thyself, the spoiling of a warrior is over, now you stand tall and alone as I watch over you with a slouched posture of overwhelming weight, the guardians I sent to you as gifts you have abused, you have become weakened with each failed acknowledgement of love.

Playtime is over, your earthly experience is soon be closed off to you, and you thought humanity was painful my child, you will now see karmas reflection while the pain you carry into battle is of the wounded ones you have so blindingly hurt, spiritually crushing is watching you create your own ending.

Denial of your reason will destroy your moment in the outcome.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

But I know nothing
is what I hear them saying
your still listening

                                Kelly McManus

So my Lawnmower Repair Guy...

                                   The wind that blows
                                Is all that anyone knows

                                  -Henry David Thoreau

And is the man all right? Nobody knows

And my lawnmower is hidden behind a fence
A chain-link fence, among mowers in rows
The owner lost a gunfight; he was taken hence
And what about the mowers? Nobody knows

And is the man all right? Nobody knows

UPS has left notes; the door is locked
There is no sound of man or machine
No one has answered when customers knocked
Only the guard-dogs (yep, they’re really mean)

And is the man all right? Nobody knows

Sergeant Schultz at the cop-shop - she knows nothink
She’s busy with her personal smartphone
Her eyes are fixed; they do not move or blink
And I am all alone in The Twilight Zone

And is the man all right? Nobody knows

So what really happened? Nobody knows

And is the man all right? Nobody knows

So who can I contact? Nobody knows

And is the man all right? Nobody knows


Only the wind...

My posture offers security, looking into your experience I begin fearing the tears becoming formed, I do know now that I must evacuate the sorrow from our souls, I am not the creation of beauty, mercy is forgotten, will you trust me, not to fumble the importance of our desired conception, I will survey what has been promised.

Did you really think you could slip on by, oh no my blinded fool, now let me introduce to you the law of unattainable knowledge.

I can dance with your fear.

Watch me and I will show the you all an amazingly enlightening moment of a substantial dream.

Umm, I must tell you that I am no longer the one of pain, don't dismiss the feeling your having right now, I have begun the forgiveness of my journey, the moisture of a fluttering eye, yes this is me.

I am forgiven by the unknown, but I will I ever wake from this one of jailed souls.

I will release you as I fall.

The visitation of hell has been written

My spirit aches, you the one of fallen tears I must turn away from but always understand that all of our  tribulations are required for our source of grief.

You will now embrace your greatness.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

I notice that you are in the corner hidden from yourself, for I do not understand but I will direct you back into the comfort of your own beauty once again, suppressing yourself is no longer a burden, we'll become to form a spiritual rescue as your eyes are now forever closed.

This passionate figure whom has struggled as well will always produce the light in which you will follow, pain is nonexistent.

Our together gaze of one another's soul seems like something unlikely to be comprehended but with my pleasure I will take you under my wings and show you an eternal dance of immortality.

Ourselves hidden becomes us from now on, vanished.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

The path becomes clear but as it comes more into focus I see myself fighting a refugee of time, watch me as I come as close as I can to the forces that enjoying winking at me, hello beautiful one come on in and have yourself a pleasant time with us for we have brought with us many teary eyed moments that will collapse around themselves, succulently sufficient are the words that are being pulled from my mouth, I am no longer in control of this oblivious carnival, how do I begin to escape without unleashing more madness, the hollowed space which beckons me to stay I can not avoid for to long.

Step one, walk slowly into the shadows of love.

Step two, find your way through the unforgiving stares of blame.

Step three, release the mercy which you seek for yourself.

There is now enough time to run with no consequence but always be aware of the ones unseen, you know whom I speak of.

Following the steps provide will only lead you to the door that begs for your attention, will you reach out to open it or will you stand by its coldness, the choice however is not yours, hold close to your purity as I shove you into the blackened of separation, did I not tell you to be cautious, again your comprehension is short lived, I must now take full advantage of your missed opportunity to choose the light, the monster inside you has awoken, your ignorance of the purpose will now shift to a blind preparation that unfortunately for you comes to a halt.

The trusted of beauty has vanished.

The honorable souls are reclaimed as my own, they cannot be taken from me again, my army grows and grows therefore I offer you many thanks, you have provided me great assistance, and just imagine this, you never even knew what you were doing, deception of happiness was my only source to be the conqueror of what is called insanity by humanity, such an astonishing creation wouldn't you agree, the laughter becomes deafening.

I am ready to leave now.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

Time is winding down, all excuses are laughed at and as we try to stand and relieve ourselves from our faulty ways the whip once again is cracked, you created the hurting heart and yet you insist at unrealistically showing anger, now as you drown in your on mistakes it seems that change will always go unnoticed, you followed the false, I sit back and giggle at your misfortune, the pawn you are.

Show to me the blank page I seek, I must rewrite the past for I will always shed the blood of the innocent if I continue to lower my head in shame, how will time exist if I can only dwell on my negligence to conform to the beauty of love.

My eyes fill with the disappointment.

My heart beats uncontrollably with every action of pain.

My soul has become hidden as these moments are cast upon me.

Self-destruction is my own.

Will I ever emerge from this shallow shell of pity.

Don't come to me wanting me to fix your deceptions and hatred, I for once will stand back and let you fall, now as I extend my hand out to you know that the willing can be drawn back to the hollow if your heart remains locked away.

Watching you fail to recognize the purity shows to me that my purpose is coming to a close.

An infant spirit can be cunning but at the same time can also be controlled and manipulated quite easily if it is allowed to do so, the smell of fire is always evident that you are near me.

I shiver alone in the occupied darkness and announce to all that yes I am afraid.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

Do you believe those words that are presented to you or are you so clouded within the plot of mankind that your heart feels as if they have stolen it away, you are now allowed to cry but I promise this will be the last time, no more ruining of the reason of us all.

Have not we seen the children of prosperity cry long enough, you I cannot change but I am willing to offer you the light, the choice is yours my youth of time.

I am here for no particular reason.

I am here to close your hearts of humanity and to open the vessel of compassionate oneness.

There is a leader in us all, will you be my savior.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

The climatic revolt of this human cage is slowly disposed of as the gates are slowly opened, with my eyes sewn shut and my heart numb a new vision of supremacy is achieved, do not doubt its substance for in this moment you are saved.

Dramatically inherited are our misconstrued ways of approaching the disguised, in this circle of completion our souls become abundantly closer to where they began and as all words come forth in silence we will no more find discomfort in the brushing of emotions, you have found the disposal of filth.

I rely on the gasp of your last breath.

I rely on the delight of knowing that we will once again reunite.

The unknown and willing have suddenly become swathe together, you I will see the fear striking at a moments notice, but do not turn and walk away for if this is your choice you will have to travel this darkened path alone, I will look down upon you as your tears of regret begin pounding the ground below.

Your feet, consumed by sores.

Your heart, consumed by suspicion.

Your soul, ushered into the flames, this is when I am needed most.

Forsaken are the ways of a coward, you have now begun your decent into your own self-loathing, the steps to freedom are but a change of heart away.

You are welcome to rejuvenate your compassion.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz

I watch the expression on your face as I incorporate the rapture of exposure, priceless.

I will watch as you shiver, no idea of what may come, oh yes this makes my excitement rise.

The introduction to your untamed soul, oh how lovely it is, I must say that you do seem withdrawn, will you ever welcome me without doubt, perhaps I may need to offer a slight moment of indescribable lust and fury, and yes this is the misfortune of an apocalyptic love, survival can be most cunning.

Romantic by nature, not quite but I am one whom suffers as you.

Now that I can be myself I would like to present to you a gift of an unattainable caress, the patience of many will now begin to turn into the thoughtlessness of religious teachings, creation can no longer be considered evaporated.

I must now lay before you and weep.

Awaiting forgiveness is nothing but self understanding.

The seed has been planted.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz