We occupied The Willard,
Yes we did,
So over the top,
We might have fed Djibouti
For a week.
The guest of honor
Deserved it,
But,
We might have fed
Somalia
For a month,
Don't get me wrong,
If you've got it,
You deserve it,
But,
Give it away,
And it becomes
More valuable,
Try it,
It tastes better.

“One of the effects of living with electronic information is that we live habitually in a state of information overload.”                                                      
                                                                                      Marshall McLuhan
So, let’s review:
Man is a thinking animal.
Stanley Kubrick took us to space to get us to think.
Marshall McLuhan:  “There are no passengers on spaceship earth. We are all crew.”
Hemetucky: what was I thinking?
The Rapture for the 1%:   The Language of the World and The Language of Enthusiasm explains why Sir Richard  Branson’s ****** Galactic will only be taking the richest among us to space.
Ian (Limey Futurologist) Pearson:  “Binary is already the dominant language on Planet Earth with today’s machines having more conversations in 24 hours than the whole of humankind since the birth of Eve.”
Larry Flynt:  “**** is the answer to everything.”
Goofy:  “Yeah, I ****** Minnie. I shagged her rotten, baby!”  
Winston Smith:  “Do it to Julia!”
McNugget Buddies:   “Parts is parts.”                                          
Stunod: “Donuts-a -spella backwards issa stunod.” Think about it.
Tony Soprano.  “You ****** stunod, it's a joke.” (Stunod:  in southern dialect Italian means stupid, or a stupid person) http://(www.urbandictionary.com) define.php?term = stunod  / buy stunod mugs & shirts
Marshall McLuhan:    “Jokes are grievances.”
Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino:  “Antonio Gramsci thought that Stalin and Bolshevism could save him and Italy from Fascism:  stunod.”
The Cloud:  My acceptance of the Cloud into my life and my changeling cyborg self is by no means a capitulation to the surfing life.
Paulo Coehlo:  “The God you seek; that someone who awaits you is you.”
Howard Beale:  “That’s the God *******.”
God:   “Because you’re on television, stunod!”
The Elders of Zion:  Nu?
Meir Kahane:  “Let us not suffer from a national amnesia that causes us to forget who and what we are. No trait is more justified than revenge in the right time and place. I know that American and Israeli elections must be limited only to those who understand that the Arabs are the deadly enemy of the Jewish state, who would bring on us a slow Auschwitz - not with gas, but with knives and hatchets. Vote for Newt!”

**** Jagger:    “Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out” (40th Anniversary Edition, Rolling Stones)
Keith Richards +Fijian palm tree = Stunod.  
Marshall McLuhan:   “The more the data banks record about each of us, the less we exist.”    
Howard Beale: “If there's anybody out there that can look around this demented slaughterhouse of a world we live in and tell me that man is a noble creature, believe me: That man is not only full of *******, that man is  stunod.”
The Nam, Part I:   a demented slaughterhouse within a microcosm and grains of beach sand inside micro-Cosmo Kramer’s shorts. When I was in the Kingdom of The Nam I was always under the influence of some drug, mostly my own pure adrenaline when scared shitless--a frequent condition for me—not only my own piquant adrenal juice but other stuff like ****, hash, Thai stick, *****, amphetamines, H-Horse ******, quaaludes, horse tranquilizers and Russian *****. The drugs were always a welcome and needed friend, a respite from the horrors of war in Southeast Asia. To meditate & levitate, to transmigrate & navigate, to negotiate & regurgitate myself, I needed a head start if I was going to SLIDE through what would be called a wormhole today, making a three-dimensional movement between different parallel universes, a conquest of time and space. Cue our favorite narrator:
Rod Serling:  “You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension--a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into the Twilight Zone.”
WWII, Part I:  A slider now, I SLIDE to my father’s war—the War in Europe in the years before V.E. Day, May 8, 1945. Suddenly I’m flipped right out of the jungle to Germania, to Deutschland in the winter of 1945. I am a P.O.W. of the Germans, sent out into the economy as slave labor. It’s February in Dresden, Germany, the Baroque capital of the German state of Saxony, the city called lovingly by her (****!) many lovers: “The Florence of the Elbe.” It was a long time ago, during the war and I Survived to Tell the Tale. I am a wet floppy Kilgore Trout; I’ve flopped right out of the Twilight Zone into what appears to be an underground meat locker in Dresden. There are animal carcasses hanging from the ceiling and the building is known as Slaughterhouse Number 5. I am a lucky ******* because even though I don’t know it yet, I’m in the safest place in the entire city. Cue the Bombing of Dresden, a strategic military bombing by the British Royal Air Force (RAF) and the United States Army Air Force (USAAF).  In four raids, 1,300 heavy bombers dropped more than 3,900 tons of high-explosive bombs and incendiary devices on Dresden. The resulting firestorm destroyed 15 square miles (39 square kilometers) of the city centre and killed many thousands, according to **** figures-- largely discredited by the victors who not only get the spoils but get to spin the history any which way but loose. Casualty figures were 200,000 and death toll estimates went as high as 500,000. Or maybe just 25,000 total, if you believe the ******* Anglo-American valkyries who unleashed the wrath of Khan’s Smoking Joe’s Barbecue Ribs and Hotlinks. Win a war, get a medal and a seat in Congress, maybe the White House; lose a war, get indicted. You’re going to Nuremberg, pilgrim, or the ******* Hague.
Kurt Vonnegut: “World War II was over and I was standing in the middle of Times Square with a Purple Heart on and a purple hard-on.”
Colonel Kurtz:  “We fight for the land that's under our feet, the gold that's in our hands, women that worship the power in our *****.  I summon fire from the sky. Do you know what it is to be a white man who can summon fire from the sky? ...What it means? You can live and die for these things, not silly ideals that are always betrayed  . . . I swallowed a bug. Who are you, captain?”
Willard:   “Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste. I've been around for a long long year, stolen many man's soul and faith. Stuck around St. Petersburg when I saw it was a time for a change. Killed the Tsar and his ministers, Anastasia screamed in vain. I rode a tank, held a gen'rals rank when the blitzkrieg raged and the bodies stank. Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name.”  
WWII, Part II:  The bombing of Dresden had to have been some kind of a violation of some International Code or Geneva Convention. But, of course, the bombers, the Victors, ran the Nuremberg show trials. The bombees didn’t get a chance to say much, didn’t want to make a fuss, seeing how generous the Army of Occupation was with their coal, gasoline, clothing and food handouts. But I was there when it was safe to climb out of the meat locker, and immediately got put to work on the après les bombes clean-up. I was there doing the ***** work, a corpse miner, tasked with collecting the fried grasshopper remains of so many unlucky Krauts who were simply burned alive, like heretics at the Inquisition. So it goes.
William Tecumseh Sherman: “War is Hell, Babaloo!”
Colonel Kilgore: “You can either surf, or you can fight!”
Sam Bottoms: “I dropped a tab of acid at the Do-Long Bridge, so I think I’ll surf for awhile: ‘I see a world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour.’ Reading Blake: for years it was the only way I could block out the war, that and losing myself in a bunch of undercover assignments. Yeah, it was William Blake, I-Spy and lots more acid; that how I dealt with PTSD.”
The Nam, Part II, LT DAN:  “Good job, trooper; those ******* drugs got you coming and going, sliding so fast you’ve missed latrine duty 3 times this month. Now go get 5 gallons of diesel fuel and gasoline, mix it together and torch that ******* feces, soldier.”
** Chi Minh:  “This ain't no party, this ain't no disco, this ain't no fooling around.”
***** Friedman:   “The Democrats and Republicans are the same guy admiring himself in the mirror.”

Muhammad Hosni El Sayed Mubarak:   “Vote for Pedro.”
Drew Gilpin Faust, Harvard:    “Fight Fiercely!”
Marshall McLuhan:    “I wouldn’t have seen it if I hadn’t believed it.”
The Author:   I am a disaffected angry old man, formerly a disaffected angry young man; a Hopi-Italian Jew with Chinese offspring, namely my left-brained son, a mathematical genius but having a tough time dealing with idiots, the many truly stunod people in the world.  Then there’s my Rose, my sweet King Lear-jet daughter, like her half-brother, not yet finished paying for my sins. My offspring are haunted, visited upon daily by their father’s  ghosts, ghosts created, ghosts hovering over me, from wars hot and cold and peace lukewarm and cloudy, like the uranium ground contamination on the mesa, visited upon mothers and infants  and children who seek only a glass of cool water from the spring not to be glow worms in the dark, leukocytes made insane by something in the water. My sins, a father’s sins; things I did to curry favor, to ingratiate and advance myself with the 1%, things I did to get ahead in life, to get what I thought my father and others in the ancestral slipstream had failed to get, twice to the Rabbi for a get (Hebrew: גט‎, plural gittin גיטין), to get the edge my kids need now, the edge I never had, and life reduced to an exercise in ultimate combat, little more than a cage fight, man against man and God against all. The things I did for money and position shame me now. And shame is a large  source of my anger.  I will remain angry. I will hang on to my anger at God and myself and all who have been disappointed in me, by me, especially the cavalcade of short-term caretakers, women used, abused, left behind and forgotten. Why am I me? Sometimes I think that’s the way I’m programmed. But it’s okay, like Gaga: “I'm beautiful in my way 'Cause God makes no mistakes I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way' Cause God makes no mistakes, I'm on the right track, baby, I was born this way and will I continue to surf the Cloud: even though God is dead and I don’t believe you, or me, or them.
Basic: remember Basic?

10   A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 20
20   START STEP TWO ANGER KUBLER-ROSS INFINITE LOOP
30   GOTO 10
10   A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 20
20   START STEP TWO ANGER KUBLER-ROSS INFINITE LOOP
30  GOTO 10
10   A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 20
20   START STEP TWO ANGER KUBLER-ROSS INFINITE LOOP
30 A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 30
30  GOTO 10 Ad infinitum

"I wish they'd stop going on about it, the things that are unseen but for brief glimpses and shadows, and fully heard. The beings in their closets and under their beds, their voices carried in a wind that isn't there. They stand, stiff, breathing shallow and deep in the lack of light, dripping wet from the storm that didn't happen in this world, muddying up the carpet, mounting with stench. They're not there, you idiots, they're over here, in my eyes, in my head, buried between my lungs and pushing the limits of my bones, my weaknesses. Stop your complaining. If only I could muffle you." ~ Jade Day


DO: Ah, yes. Ms. Day is also a favorite author of mine.

[Anaïs smiles at Do.]

NURSE YUCKI: Really? I actually think that is interesting that we have similar tastes in literature.

DO: I know right!

NURSE YUCKI: I mean she could hook you with just one word.

DO: That she can.

[Do turns his head in another direction; Anaïs looks down as she clears her throat.]

NURSE YUCKI: So how are you feeling Do? Are your emotions gradually beginning to retract back into a more manageable state?

DO: Yeah somewhat, but they are still fluctuating a bit. I think I will be fine.

NURSE YUCKI: Would you like me to monitor you just in case?

DO: No, thank you, Anaïs. I think I can handle my emotions for now, but I will let you know if something comes up.

NURSE YUCKI: Promise?

[Do smiles at Anaïs.]

DO: Promise.

[Do’s stomach began to growl loudly.]

NURSE YUCKI: Ooh. Someone is hungry I am assuming.

DO: Ha ha well your assumption wouldn’t be wrong Anaïs. I am a tad bit hungry actually.

NURSE YUCKI: Well, considering that it is now lunch time, I suggest that you go to the cafeteria and enjoy yourself a lovely, hot afternoon meal. The cafeteria is down the hall to your left and is the third room on your right. In the meantime I think I will take a little detour and purchase some premium foods to consume.

DO: You know that actually wouldn’t be a bad idea.

[Do and Anaïs both laugh in equal synchronization.]

NURSE YUCKI: I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Do.

DO: Yes, you will. Have a great day Anaïs and thanks again

NURSE YUCKI: You’re welcome.

[Anaïs smiles and winks at Do on her way out. Do smiles back. Do then leaves the black room and exits through the entrance. Above Do’s head were signs that helped to direct him to take the proper route, but there was no need for him to read it as Anaïs had already instructed him on how to get there. Do continues walking down the hall until he reaches the third room on his right. There was a big sign above the entrance that said “CAFETERIA”. Do then entered the cafeteria to handfuls of laughter and patients talking amongst themselves while eating the meal of their choice. There was a moderately long line of which Do joined as he waited along with the rest of the patients to receive his lunch. Do noticed that a girl with *****, blonde shoulder length hair was standing in front of him. She was wearing glasses with square black frames much like the glasses that Dr. Nightmare often wore. She had beady eyes of an exceptionally moderate size and her skin was pearly white with a smile that was naturally inviting. She then spotted Do and appropriately began speaking to him.]

SPORE: Hello there. How are you?

DO: I’m doing okay. Yourself?

SPORE: Yeah, I’m alright but I wish this line would move just a little bit faster. This is driving me bonkers. So what’s your name if you don’t mind me asking?

DO: My name is Do.

[Spore reaches out to shake Do’s hand.]

SPORE: Spore. You have a pretty cool name you know?

[Do lightly laughs.]

DO: Well, thank you.

SPORE: You are certainly welcome, Do.

[Spore smiles at Do.]

SPORE: So where are you from?

DO: Like what country am I from or like what city?

[Spore chuckles.]

SPORE: I meant in general silly ha ha.

DO: Well, I’m from North America. I was born in a small town called Springfield, Illinois but I was raised in Memphis, Tennessee.

SPORE: Interesting.

DO: How about you? Where are you from?

SPORE: I am from British Columbia, Canada although I was raised in a small city named Abbotsford.

DO: What was it like there?

SPORE: At times it was weird and some days were worse than others, but I somehow managed to pull through.

DO: So how did you end up in here?

SPORE: Long story short I nearly decapitated my former friend’s head off with a chainsaw then attempted to slit my wrists with it.

[Do looked shocked as he was laughing at Spore’s statement.]

DO: Oooh brutal are we?

SPORE: Hey, ******* be trippin’!

[Both Do and Spore began laughing in equal succession. The line had continued to move forward. It was finally Spore’s turn to select the portions of her meal.]

LUNCH LADY: Good afternoon and welcome to Black Wick Cafeteria. Today’s specials are pizza and fish and shrimp. Today’s sides are coleslaw, biscuits and baked beans with your choice of cocktail or tartar sauce. What would you like?

SPORE: Um… I guess I will take the fish and shrimp with a side of baked beans and cocktail sauce and tartar sauce.

LUNCH LADY: That will be six dollars.

SPORE: That’s fine. You want anything Do? Lunch is on me today.

DO: Yes, I think I’ll have the same thing you are having.

SPORE: Alright then. Excuse me miss but could you add a duplicate order for my buddy Do here.

[The lunch lady nodded and began preparing Do’s order.]

DO: Thank you so much, Spore. I appreciate this more than you know.

SPORE: No problem.

[Spore smiled at Do. As Spore and Do were departing from the lunch line they heard a string of insults follow them as they were searching for a table.]




TABLE #1: Continuez à marcher baiseur. Vous n'êtes pas le bienvenu ici!

TABLE #2: C'est le tableau est réservé pour la belle et que l'intellectuel. Vous êtes trop stupide pour être considéré comme l'un de nous!

TABLE #3: Ahem! Excusez-moi, mais je n'arrive pas à reconnaître le potentiel de développement de la beauté ou de la popularité en vous. S'il vous plaît revenir quand ce jour est arrivé. Merci.


SPORE: Pay them no mind, Do. Just keep walking.


[Spore softly grabs Do’s hand as they are walking.]

WIFI: Hey look guys! Spore’s got a boyfriend.

WIFI’S TABLE: Oooooohhhhhh!!!!!!!

[All of the patients at that were sitting with Wifi began to mock Spore with several fake smooches and hugs. Spore blushed.]

SPORE: You see this is exactly why we never worked out WiFi. You were always so self-centered, narcissistic and desperate. No matter what we said, did or where we went it was always about you.

[Wifi got up and stood in front of the table behind him as he spread his arms out. WiFi had long, wavy, red hair with hazel eyes, and pearly white skin. He wore a black leather jacket with denim blue jeans and leather black boots.]

WIFI: Do you even realize how stupid you sound right now? If it was truly all about me we would have never dated. Think about what you are saying before you speak.

[Spore blushed again.]

SPORE: Yeah well…. Even then still it was about you.

[Spore gently wiped the tears that were streaming from her face. Her nose had turned bright red in response.]

WIFI: Eh what does it matter now? We’re not together anymore so we are wasting our time talking to each other. I’m trying to eat lunch and chill with my peeps. Beat it.

SPORE: *******, Wifi! I am leaving on my own terms not yours!

[WiFi balled his fists as he got up and began running at a speed believed to be faster than Superman. He was about to hit Spore but Do stepped in his way and blocked his punch.]

DO: You will not hit her or you will suffer the consequences.

WIFI: And what if I do? What are you gonna do? Punch me in the face? Are you gonna kick me in the *****? Ha ha I am used to that. Learn some new tricks and then we’ll talk okay. Now move out of my way.

[Spore screamed very loudly as WiFi tried to take another swing at her. Do blocked WiFi’s punch yet again only this time taking his arm and lowering his head as he slid under it. He then stood in the same position as WiFi while still holding his arm and began ramming his right elbow deep into his his nose breaking it upon immediate contact. Do then took WiFi’s wrist and arm and twisted them until they snapped breaking both areas of his arm instantly. He then picked WiFi up and slammed his rib cage directly on his knee and let him drop to the hard, marble floor.]

SPORE: Do stop! That’s enough!

[Spore was crying again as she stood there in shock. Everyone was watching. WiFi was laying across the floor in a fetal position with a small puddle of blood leaking from his broken nose. His eyes were barely open.]

WIFI: Ugh… Ugghh...

SPORE: Come on, Do. We’ll eat lunch outside.

DO: I think that would be a good idea.

SPORE: You and me both.

[Do and Spore grabbed their lunch trays and walked outside. It was sunny and the trees were still without leaves as it was still winter. The breeze was very cold. A musically digital sound began playing in the background. It was Spore’s cell phone.]

SPORE: Oh, and I just got a text from my friends of whom I’d love for you to meet. They want us to come and sit with them.

DO: Alright, I’m down. Where are they sitting?

[A girl with bubblegum pink hair was waving at Spore with a smile on her face.]

SPORE: They are sitting right over there against the brick wall.

DO: Ok then let’s go.

[Do and Spore walk over to the table where Spore’s friends were sitting. They arrive at the table and set their trays down as they took a seat.]

SPORE: Hey guys I have someone that I would like you to meet. Gum and Sweat meet Do. Do meet Gum and Sweat.

GUM: Hello, Do. It is a pleasure to meet you.

SWEAT: Sup Do? Glad to have you.

[Do shook both Gum and Sweat’s hands.]

DO: Hey. It is very nice to meet the two of you. Thank you for introducing me, Spore.

SPORE: No problem.

[Spore smiled once again.]

DO: So how did the three of you meet?

SPORE: Well, first of all I arrived at Black Wick on November 2, 2013. I met Gum later that evening as we were assigned as roommates. It wasn’t until about a week later that I met Sweat. He was fencing when we met and he finished then took off his fencing mask to greet me.

SWEAT: Ha ha yeah, I remember that. Those were some pretty memorable days eh?

GUM: Indeed they were.

DO: Where are you from Gum?

GUM: Oh, I’m from Oklahoma but I was living in Las Vegas, Nevada before I got here. Let me tell you I got into lots of mischief during that time. The parties were crazy and the night clubs were always packed. I hooked up with numerous guys and girls. I even did coke and **** do I regret that. I am never doing that ever again, but drinking is acceptable.

DO: How about you Sweat? Where are you from?

SWEAT: Oh, I’m from Memphis, TN but I was living in Cordova before being dumped in this hellhole.

DO: Dude no way! I live in Cordova too.

SWEAT: Really bro? That’s dope.

DO: I know right! So Spore who was that guy who was harassing you in the cafeteria?

SPORE: Oh yeah I almost forgot about that. The guy’s name is Willard Fike but everyone calls him WiFi due to his extensive computer programming and networking skills. He even knows how to build and send viruses to computers. Me and WiFi used to date which was long before the two of us ever ended up in here. One day we got into a very heated argument.

[The scene flashes to a black and white filtered memory. Spore and WiFi are standing in the middle of a living room arguing really loudly.]

SPORE: So you think it is ok to mug someone late at night as they are walking home?! What if somebody had saw you?! Do you have any idea what happened?!

WIFI: Look I don’t give a **** alright! I don’t have a job! I needed money! What the **** did you expect me to do?! Huh???!!! Answer me!!!!!!!

SPORE: You could try checking the job ads in the paper. You could try job searching within the city. There is no valid enough excuse as to why you mugged that innocent pedestrian.

WIFI: Well I don’t like being broke you can ride with me or you can go and **** yourself. Pick one!

SPORE: If money is important enough to sacrifice your dignity then perhaps you are better off broke because you deserve a dime and you sure as hell won’t be receiving a cent from me.

[WiFi one-two punched Spore deeply in her stomach and then punched her squarely in the eye before delivering an uppercut. Spore was laying on the floor crying as WiFi began searching the room for cash.]

SPORE: WE ARE OVER! DO YOU HEAR ME????!!!!! OVER!!!!!!!

WIFI: I DON’T GIVE A ****!!!!!

[WiFi begins searching around the room for cash. He searches for about 5 minutes before settling on a sum of $500 of which he found in Spore’s mother’s purse. Spore picked up her cell phone and attempted to the call the kkkkkpolice when  WiFi suddenly placed  a pistol to her temple and pulled back the trigger.]

WIFI: I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Put the **** phone down now before I **** you.

[Spore did as she was told and dropped the phone. WiFi took the phone and threw it into the fish tank behind him.]

WIFI: Now you won’t ever be able to make calls to anyone.

SPORE: You know you are never going to get away with this.

WIFI: Technically, I already have. The question is who is going to stop me?

[WiFi left right after he asked that question slamming the door hard as he walked out.]

[The scene flashes back to the present.]

SPORE: I never was the same after that night.

DO: And he got away just like that?

SPORE: Well word got around fast and the cops caught up with him two days later following a string of police reports. I filed the day following the event so I guess you could say that I set it off.

SWEAT: Still, that’s sad though.

SPORE: I know and as Do and I were looking for a place to sit, a bunch of patients started hurling random insults at us in French and that was when I came across WiFi. Him and his buddies were mocking us and saying that we were a couple when that couldn’t be further than the truth.

DO: You say that almost as if you are ashamed of me, ha ha.

SPORE: I’m sorry, Do. You know that’s not what I meant.

DO: Yeah, I know.

[Spore gives Do a hug.]

SPORE: How do you feel now?

DO: Better.

SPORE: Anyway me and WiFi got into another argument while in the cafeteria and he tried to run up and attack me. Luckily Do was there to protect me. He basically ****** WiFi up. I seriously wanted to laugh at how much of a ***** Do made him look. The guy was lying across the floor in a fetal position whining. I couldn’t have asked for a better picture.

[The four them laughed together in equal succession. Another loud noise overlapped their laughter from behind the wall. It was the sound of two voices moaning. Both of the voices were female.

GUM: What was that?

SPORE: I have no idea.

SWEAT: Don’t know. Don’t care bro.

DO: I think I’ll go and have a look just to see what’s going on.

[The moaning continued and became increasingly louder as Do walked around the edge of the wall and behind it. He found two Caucasian girls completely half naked. Both girls were laying across the grass in the sixty-nine position eating each other out.]

DO: This is going to be fun.

[Do chuckled and smiled as his ******* grew.]

Tomorrow the baseball Hall of Fame will announce the newest members selected to join her hallowed hall.  Ken Griffey Jr.  will surely be selected.

I wish Hello Poetry had a Hall Of Fame. There are so many poets and good friends worthy of.  

In absence of, I wish to nominate the following poets for the first class when and if it is ever created. My criteria for selection to this Hello Poetry Hall of Fame are:

                    A feeling heart
                    loves  poetry
                    is a friend to others in the community

A Triple Crown.

Time and space are the only reason I have not listed all poets here at Hello Poetry:

Vicki  (My Queen, a love child of Whitman and Dickinson)
Christi Michaels MoonFlower
mark cleavenger
Musfiq us shaleheen
brandon cory nagley
The Masked Pimpernel
rebecca askew
Sjr1000
Pradip Chattopadhyay
elsa angelica
Eddie Starr Poetry
ryn
Weeping willow
KetomaRose
Steven Langhorst
Mike Essig
Willard Wells
Woody
Elizabeth Squires
SoulSurvivor
Pax
Grace
Dave Kavanagh
Sumina Thapaliya
FJ Davis
SE Reimer
Sally A Bayan
solEmn oaSis
Melissa S
Arcassin B
..... and to those I failed to mention I apologize. I am thinking of you, also, but time and space are the only limitations to my list of nominees.

I found myself upon the water,
waves and breakers crashing.
My fear locked up inside the boat,
my desperate heartbeat catching.
The mounting waves and ceaseless sea
did fill my mind with fear.
But the sun broke through--
as the son will always do--
and in awe I cried:
My God! He is here!

Liberties Undying Flame
I’m going to write in the shadow and stream of Abe Lincoln we can’t be our hero but we can strive to be like them. First and foremost honesty they say it is refreshing. Well I was kept from writing all day went thirty miles to go out to eat. Finally at eleven I was too tired to write well actually I didn’t have anything to write. So I took a fifteen minute nap then set in the chair until five forty five first finally coming up with this then writing it in my head now to put it down. It has to do as the title says with streams those that stream into your life from others. When trying to find a story that could be the jumping off place I got out the book pedaling to Hawaii. Sub title a human powered Odyssey. Stevie Smith a Paris bureaucrat decides there has to be more to life so he chucks everything and begins his quest to use only human power to circle the globe by pedaling no sails or motors just human exertion. Richard Branson writes this on the front of the book.”If you believe, as I do that we all have something extraordinary within us, this wonderful book will inspire you to begin your dream and follow it through”
In life’s constant free every flowing tide these mentors come in timeless rhythm they surmount all obstacles carry back with them to the sea the waste the debris you unwisely collected not knowing this collection the enemy has brought to seal your life against God given streams that are the very substance of life changing dreams. They were found in neighborhoods and streets the common paths but these were fixed by divine design he was adding mental and physical attributes that fit perfect into the mosaic he had envisioned when he thought of you. One neighbor scruffy mean hostile your first thoughts what a sad waste but then you saw the beautiful daughters and the upstanding sons. Then your question Willard why have you tried so hard to perpetrate this effective lie your lesson don’t look on the outward but be perceptive take the time in this harden shell you can find beautiful secrets to tell he was just a dark color in the whole it blends to form the richest hues for in you mercy will ensue the lost and forgotten who have long trodden a chilled and lonely path among stone and thorn will once again know the clear air and paths bathed in warm sunshine. There are rarest finds if you’re willing to walk the extra mile your own life you will enrich so many others so carefree have come to find waste and spoil
Then the farmer who held on to the past long had the tractor replaced the team of horses but remember the harmony living flesh man and horses when he spoke talked to them they willing obeyed leaned into the harness how there magnificence gave a thrill to your heart then the silver plow knifed the earth black soil rolled over the side of the plow how did common earth transform into a black wave even more compelling than the grassy sod that moments before ruled with a quiet flare. The leather creaked against the strain I could swear it was singing. In this moment retold jack and that team are again in fields wide made with straightest furrows the golden seed to be laid in this temporal grave tomorrow rich harvest the families table spread labors highest honor paid.
The mothers the fathers along these thoroughfares coursed humans greatest gift they with ordinary means rearmed a nation with bloodlines and lifelines to continue a way bought for from blood spilled on sea and land to keep us free. The truth if you could remove lies deadly snare from people’s minds the religion they practice is the contrivance of slavery to make the few rule the weaker with this blight abolished they could see we are the same as them we only desire good for family and the larger world.
This is the strong hold of any nation Brother G.T. Haywood a black pastor in Indianapolis went to his church locked the door for twenty one days he sought God for black and white people his city and nation the benefactors of his love and devotion at the end of this prayer and fast he emerged and penned this immortal song. I see a stream of crimson it flows from Calvary its waves is washing over me. The city fathers credited this man’s influence for saving the city when Detroit was in ashes he had long gone to his reward but his life and spirit lived on. Mr. President you could learn a lot from this man your aid using the foulest language isn’t funny you have a sacred trust live up to it.

Bulkeley, Hunt, Willard, Hosmer, Meriam, Flint,
Possessed the land which rendered to their toil
Hay, corn, roots, hemp, flax, apples, wool and wood.
Each of these landlords walked amidst his farm,
Saying, "'Tis mine, my children's and my name's.
How sweet the west wind sounds in my own trees!
How graceful climb those shadows on my hill!
I fancy these pure waters and the flags
Know me, as does my dog: we sympathize;
And, I affirm, my actions smack of the soil.'

Where are these men? Asleep beneath their grounds:
And strangers, fond as they, their furrows plough.
Earth laughs in flowers, to see her boastful boys
Earth-proud, proud of the earth which is not theirs;
Who steer the plough, but cannot steer their feet
Clear of the grave.
They added ridge to valley, brook to pond,
And sighed for all that bounded their domain;
'This suits me for a pasture; that's my park;
We must have clay, lime, gravel, granite-ledge,
And misty lowland, where to go for peat.
The land is well,--lies fairly to the south.
'Tis good, when you have crossed the sea and back,
To find the sitfast acres where you left them.'
Ah! the hot owner sees not Death, who adds
Him to his land, a lump of mould the more.
Hear what the Earth says:--

Earth-Song

'Mine and yours;
Mine, not yours, Earth endures;
Stars abide--
Shine down in the old sea;
Old are the shores;
But where are old men?
I who have seen much,
Such have I never seen.

'The lawyer's deed
Ran sure,
In tail,
To them, and to their heirs
Who shall succeed,
Without fail,
Forevermore.

'Here is the land,
Shaggy with wood,
With its old valley,
Mound and flood.
"But the heritors?--
Fled like the flood's foam.
The lawyer, and the laws,
And the kingdom,
Clean swept herefrom.

'They called me theirs,
Who so controlled me;
Yet every one
Wished to stay, and is gone,
How am I theirs,
If they cannot hold me,
But I hold them?'

When I heard the Earth-song,
I was no longer brave;
My avarice cooled
Like lust in the chill of the grave.

Always enjoyed crossing bridges
Looking down to see what
divided the land so

I hoped to see rivers
their flow
I like the waters to be on the go

Sometimes there were
railroad tracks
Sometimes trains with horns blowing back

Then there were trees
sometimes
swishing in the breeze

I loved the bridges
connecting
the Florida Keys

And Ponchatrain
going on endlessly
or so it seemed to me

Never been to Brooklyn
no I didn't buy a bridge
I have a picture of it taped upon my fridge

I crossed the Mississippi on bridges that were high and sometime low
One bridge fell into the river and it's not there anymore

Too bad HP has no picture avatars
I have pictures of the pillars
Still reminding me and Willard

Peering into the night
of Naval, Biliran.
I am reminded of time
gone past that wants
to draw me near.

Streets are dark
lacking substance,
along with any human touch.
Yet it draws me into thoughts
of yesteryear, places
frequented in my life

A simpler time,
with no cell phone.
A wave to the neighbor,
and good morning all.
Times do change
for better or worse.

So I savor my time
to be at peace with the world.
As I step back to reflect
on past time in life.
A simple life is where happiness is found.*

© 2016 Willard Wells

Beanie bags on tied knees sweep the floor
The children of a neighborhood *****

Willard’s pets toasted over firelight
Inhaled whole nary a bite.

Sunken eyes watching a falling sun
Chewing nails to simulate fun.

Head laid down on a pillow of lice.
Fall asleep terrified with the sound of mice.

Sometimes I mine for echoes
Ghosts of sounds within me still
Cicadas and the clash of boules
Soft voices from the hill

Two young boys tongue-tied in the sun
Barefoot on summer's shore
Soft feet licked clean by freedom's whim
With oceans to explore

My mother nurtured flowers
Drowning shadows out with paint
The brightness of geraniums
The patience of a saint

My father cut the grass too much
And ran to clear his mind
Until the echoes of the Angelus
Beseeched him to unwind

My brother lined his time with books
He tore through Willard Price
And towed me just behind him
Through the fronds of paradise

Marauding hornets launched their raids
From castles in the attic
While Stanley mined for longwave gold
From seams deep in the static

And all the while
My granny kept her patience in the shade
Her deck of cards adorned with birds
Their feathers slightly frayed

The swallows scythed through open skies
Back home where they belonged
And like Narcissus, swooped from height
To kiss the surface of the pond

The wasps built paper palaces
The geckos froze on sight
And midwife toads woke from their doze
To tune up for the night

As daytime took its leave
We sought out satellites and stars
Then lay in quiet contemplation
Watching Venus waltz with Mars

I remember cowboys’ breakfasts
With my father by the lake
Freewheeling with the moon roof open
For freewheeling's sake

We wore our bike tyres paper thin
Climbed castle walls unseen
Dived into lakes to race for ducks
And ruled the world at just thirteen

We fashioned bows and arrows
From the saplings in the wood
Sprung ambushes from chestnut shade
And fell dead where we stood

We roamed the dust-filled houses
On the back streets off the square
An ageless band of soldiers
Feigning death without a care

We raced around the wood yard
Sometimes scuffled in the dust
We traded glances with the neighbours' girls
And felt the nascent tug of lust

We sought out mischief in the hills
Stole naughtily from shelves
Smoked roll-ups in a Dutch girl's car
Unclipped our wings and helped ourselves

I suppose now would be too little too late.
It was Monday you passed, you made it through the whole week.
And if you could only know the compliments your bouquet has been given, the words sound the same
when they hit my ears and I'm sorry, my apologies.
Angie will miss you.
I suppose that's why she let go feeling
Oh so sentimental but never shallow. I can't bear to think about her much, because she loved you more than I knew love had the power too.
What is left of what that dinner table once was?
Vern has gone, you have gone. Willard abandoned the lot of you, and I'm just not sure I ever want to make it as long as you folks.
Take me out early, so my friends don't die before me.

Upon learning of the recent death of Willard Thomas, I decided to interview some of his former students in hopes of discovering the truth about this controversial figure.

    1.
"God, what a man! I've never known anyone who experienced life so intensely. His mind was plagued by unanswerable questions. His body was racked by the suffering of fellow human beings. His soul was tortured by the absurdity of existence.
  
His life was a struggle with the cosmos.
  
You could see it in his face.
You could feel it in his words.
  
And what a teacher! He hypnotized the class. He made books come to life.
  
We saw him in the meadow with Emily Dickinson,
drunk with daisies and the sunrise.
We saw him lugging Cordelia about the camp,
brains burst, arms aching.
We saw him fling the iron at Moby ****!!
defiant to the last. . . .
  
He was obsessed with truth.
He was in love with justice.
He was the hero of a tragedy called Existence
and he played his part surpassing well."

     2.
"Mr. Thomas was an ***. I know you shouldn't talk that way about a dead person but you said you wanted the truth and that's the truth. Every day he came into class with that ridiculous paisley tie and those irritating starched white shirts with the collars curled up at the corners and those baggy pants down to his shoe-tops and that mess of frizzy white hair and that grimace, that stupid idiotic grimace. And he couldn't teach worth ****. His lectures were a bunch of gibberish about "truth" and "justice" and there was never any discussion. The only ideas that interested him were his own. He thought of himself as some sort of tragic hero. He was a fool, a fraud, an ***. . . ."      

[In case you’re interested, I’m definitely in the camp of former student #1.]

Willard loved his pet turkey.
He fed him good all year-round.
And his pet turkey put on the pounds.
Around the farmyard, Willard's turkey was boss.
And at Thanksgiving Day dinner,
He tasted so good with stuffing and cranberry sauce.