Monday, November 23, 2015

Her Prison Within

"Well. I didn't think that was going to happen. Oh, dear..."


It had been building for a long time. Much longer than she cared to admit. Maybe even the entire time. Her inner voice screamed she was losing her morality. She retorted she was a wealthy Christian wife with children, i.e. bulletproof. She had climbed the mountain of morality according to the hallmarks of the society which cared for her. She ruled in undisputed reign, no voice dare speak out against her - except for the inner one crushing her soul.

Misery is the mother of change. Yes, it took decades to come to fruition as she knew change would mean the end of life as she knew it. But when that life lost its desirability, the unthinkable became thinkable. The solid belief in her goodness having eroded, she had to admit - privately - it had been an illusion all long. But what if she really did do something real?

I want that certainty back more than anything in the world. This hollow act is wearing on me and I can think of nothing worse than that coming to light. But if I step out of this rut and do something I can genuinely be proud of, no one will ever know of my long moral lapse. I don't know if I can even do this. Been so long since I've dealt with the unknown...

But facing the unknown would help revive her lagging self-respect. Literature had always been her passion. In the past she'd joined Bible study groups as the outreach in her life, but those had always been so...confining. She wanted to join a real club, something vibrant where every opinion wasn't known beforehand. If she joined a true book reading club she might even be required to read *gasp* forbidden books. That could be a tough sell but a price she'd pay to put adventure back in her life.

Too much adventure for a lifelong liar

It was not too hard to find a club in the creative landscape of San Francisco. She picked the one most daring and exciting to her withered soul. In for a penny, in for a pound, she reasoned. Plus it felt good to finally feel alive under the glorious bay sunlight. So many different people living so many different lives. Seeing it up and close and personal put a whole new spin on life. It was as if she'd been watching the world through her own private TV - or prison bars.

The meetings were as exciting and lively as she'd hoped. Throwing off ancient shackles rid herself of the rust of decaying guilt. She couldn't help but be amused by the shocking convictions she heard - words that would make her carefully screened circle howl in dismay. But she found it thrilling even with a latent feeling of betrayal. How obvious she needed to stop betraying herself if she wanted to get her self-respect back. At some point, though, this will come to a head...

Having taken one step she wanted to take another, one gulp of air launching a mad scramble for life. Her own views started to change and she wished to share her new enlightenment even at the cost of her friends' and family's approval. Surprisingly, she didn't get the backlash she expected. So she took it further down the line, to the place where she felt most free. Now surely that would get her disowned! Instead, she heard understanding and even some agreement. But this doesn't match what you've been saying and preaching all these years!

"What do you mean you got a blow job from Aunt Bea??"

Then it hit her. What cowards and hypocrites. They already know the truth! They just wanted someone else to say it first before agreeing. I wonder how long they've known. Are they laughing at me for just now finding out? No. They must hate themselves for lying and cowering in the dark. I held them up in such high regard. I always wondered how I could ever match them when I myself was having such a hard time. No wonder my little voice has been screaming at me to step out. I thought it wanted to destroy my life but it's trying to save me. Damn!

But a single flower does not a garden make. She hungered to fill her garden, to bring it to life. This was the real way! Having once tasted life she could not go back to a dullard's bitterness. Even if she did she could no longer be convincing in her happy act knowing what she knew now. So that's the price for this gift. The price for lying has doubled. And will double again if I take another step. I'm more frightened now than ever before in my life.

The full magnitude of what she'd done hit her like a sledgehammer. No way she could shake the feeling she'd lose everything if she continued down this road to life. That she could not do. On the other hand, there was no going back to the old her. The oxygen was leaving her lungs. She ran outside to the patio in desperation, crying out to the world. "Where is freedom? Where is life? Why does everyone have it but me!"


The decision to do nothing buried her alive in terrifying boredom. These are the same walls you will stare at until the end of time! At times she could barely keep her composure, yelling inside while talking on the phone to her father; a million miles away at the dinner table; rejected dreams revived in the middle of the night. Like everyone, she had known bouts of boredom before - but never as a coffin, as a permanent unsealable fate. This was terror on a scale she never could have imagined.

In one of her many judgmental moments of the past she haughtily decried women who had affairs "because they are bored. How silly is that? I just can't understand it," she readily assured herself. That was before she knew it could be life and death. How shocking to find she'd gladly accept an affair now if it brought back that first feeling of life. She wanted it again and again and again. "What would Solomon say of me now?"

On July 6, 2001, betrayer Robert Hanssen, who spied for Soviet and Russian intelligence services against the United States for 22 years from 1979 to 2001, pleaded guilty to fifteen counts of espionage. On May 10, 2002 he was sentenced to fifteen consecutive sentences of life in prison without the possibility of parole. Hanssen is Federal Bureau of Prisons prisoner #48551-083. He is serving his sentence at ADX Florence, a federal supermax prison, in solitary confinement 23 hours a day.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

When ISIS Eyes Are Smilin'

"Hey, Harry, did you hear the news?? Oh my God, the whole world is falling apart!"

"No, I've been busy."

"Busy? What have you got to be busy about?"

"Oh, lots of things."

"Like you're some important person doing something. I bet you've not been busy at all!"

"Don't get in a snit. I've been very busy being depressed digging my hole deeper, missing Emily horribly, feeling frustratingly futile, and looking for plausible excuses for anger like an asshole conservative. That's a lot for any one person's plate."

"Sounds like bullshit to me."

"You predicate that on my having an interest in your opinion." I then waved him away with a small hand gesture that only infuriated him more - as intended.

"You can't tell me you haven't heard about the attacks!"

"Which attacks? The invasion of Iraq, global JSOC missions, extrajudicial drone strikes? Can't tell the good players from the bad without a program, I say."

"I'm talking about evil people attacking innocent civilians. That's totally different than when we good people kill innocent civilians."

"See? That's what I'm talking about. No one gave me a list of who's good and who's bad. But then, who needs one when I got you keeping tabs on things for me."

"You're completely irresponsible! You just sit there doing nothing to stop the terrorists. We've got to do something!"

"You know what, you're right."

"I am?"

"Absolutely. I say this now from the highest cliff in the land: Terrorism bad! Stop it! Everyone hold hands - unless you're afraid of getting AIDS from Charlie Sheen."

"That's just so wrong in so many ways. Unbelievable! You're just going to lounge there and let terrorists come in the door!"

"I'm nobody's puppet."

"You will be when they come busting through!"

"I have no fear of that."

"Then you a fool! How can you say something like that?"

"Because I know you'll be out there fighting them before they ever get to me."

"That's right! I'm a freedom fighter! You're a freedom sucker, just sponging off other people's efforts."

"You could always de-enlist. No skin off my nose."

"I'm not shameful like that. And you'll get what you deserve. I don't know how you can live with yourself being like that."

"I'll say three Hail Mary's before I go to bed tonight."

"Well, that's something!"

"Is it?"

Stop distracting me from naked Kardashians

"You can't take anything seriously, can you? People dying all over the place, blown to bits for no good reason. That could be you! We have to do something!"

"Like I said, I'm nobody's puppet." I stretched out and turned on my side. An attempt at shaming guilt to come next, no doubt.

"You know what one guy did? He played "Imagine" outside where the attacks were. What do you think of that, Mr. Lennon fan?"

"If John Lennon were alive today he'd be lynched. You and all your phony patriots would call him a traitor for not giving in to hate."

"You gotta be a terrorist to fight terrorists! You have to shoot the enemy standing in front of you."

"The only way to fight terrorists is not to become one."

"Screw that! We be bombing the shit out of them now. Hahaha! Take that, you fuckers!"

"You can't bomb terrorism. You really think you can just keep killing until all the so-called bad guys are gone and one day be safe?"

"Heck yeah!"

"And just by curious coincidence no one here in this country needs bombing."

"We're the good guys, dummy. I'm an expert on knowing the good guys. I stay informed - unlike you!"

"Ah, I'd love to hear an expert's opinion on who the good guys are."

"Oh, that's easy: It's anyone who looks like me."

"Well played, sir! Thank God for terrorism, eh? Now your life finally has purpose and meaning."

"You can say that again!"

Wednesday, November 04, 2015

Part 2: Spotlight On The Juden

Normally in this column we spotlight regularly committed Jewish treacheries and atrocities but today we'd like to take a different turn here at Fascist Times and show there can be a good Jew even if on very rare occasions. We'd also like to take this opportunity to prove this is not a baseless propaganda column as falsified by corrupt Western powers. We recognize both good and bad equally, turning a blind eye to neither. And with that said we'd like to introduce to our readers the woman known as the "Queen Of The Cattle Cars" (as dubbed by our very own Minister of Propaganda Goebbels!)

The camp relocation program has been a win-win for both the German and Jewish populations, an inarguable achievement of which our state should be duly proud! However, there are malcontents that exist no matter how just a society may be, and these misguided souls need gentle persuading to get them onto the correct path. That's where our interview subject, the cattle car Queen comes in. She fully embraces the enlightened wisdom of the camp deployments and her good work for this noble cause has not gone unnoticed.

FT: Just what was it that made your Jewish mind understand the need and the ultimate reward of the camp deployments?

QCC: I was just tired of hearing the constant carping and negativity of my own people! Who are these people who think they know everything? They're too good to try something different? Give camps a chance!

FT: I'm impressed by your open mind! A most Germanic trait. It sounds like this is a job you thoroughly enjoy.

QCC: Oh, it is! It is! I love, love, love my job. I'm someone who enjoys helping people. This has to be by far the most rewarding experience of my life.

FT: I've heard you even travel on the cars with those people.

QCC: Yes, I just can't help it, I get so involved. I like asking about their children and lives, what sort of plans they have for the future. What I really like is when we play this game where we come up with answers on how camp will make their lives better. Sometimes you get the most amazing answers!

FT: [Laughter] I bet you do! But what do you make of all the Jewish bashing of your efforts, of those who say you are a betrayer?

QCC: They betray themselves. Try following orders if you want a good outcome. Don't like how life is for you? Well, adopt a better attitude and see what happens! Certainly worked for me. All I can do is try to salvage as many lives as I can and pull them out of the darkness. But not everyone listens.

A mother and daughter stand in line to have their faces measured by a thick, thuggish bully of a woman who'd later be reincarnated as the governor of New Jersey. After the mother passes through the daughter is then measured, causing the thug woman to exclaim. "Ist Juden! Ist Juden!" The daughter is taken away as the screaming mother is restrained. She is inconsolable, the grief unbearable, all reason having left the world. She cries out helplessly to a helpless God. It does not matter to this woman that one day the Nazi empire will crumble or that vengeance is God's. It only matters her daughter has been taken away - a daughter she'll never see again.

FT: Minister of Propaganda Goebbels himself appointed you to this position, a man of true insight. What was it like meeting Minister Goebbels?

QCC: A meeting I'll never forget! I was, like, totally awestruck. To be in such a position of responsibility over the whole country is an undertaking I just cannot imagine. I feel with every fiber of my being his is a name that will be remembered by history. For me to be a part of that history, to be recognized by this man, is truly life changing. My only regret is that not every Jew feels the thrills and honor I have felt.

FT: It's obvious this work means very much to you. You speak with a near religious fervor.

QCC: Oh, very much so. I feel Jesus by my side, beaming in pride as I give aid and comfort to the doubting Thomas's. There's not a doubt in my mind I'm doing the Lord's work. Helping others is the most rewarding experience one can ask for. I will not rest until I can get every Jew into a camp.

FT: Neither shall I! [Both laugh] I must admit I'm highly impressed with your resolve and dedication to this cause. What gets you so fired up day after day?

QCC: What really struck me from the beginning was the undoubting conviction of the Nazis as this for a final solution. They have no hesitation, you see no wavering in the enforcement. They just know. I know I've never felt that certain about anything before in my life and I wanted a piece of that feeling. It's very inspiring!

FT: Acceptance of guidance is key to an orderly society.

QCC: Precisely! I have zero tolerance for dissent. It's irresponsible and leads only to chaos.

FT: Your admirable attitude is not shared by everyone of your race, unfortunately. What do you say to those who spread stories of Nazi mistreatment of Jews?

QCC: You know something? I'm very glad you asked me that. I want to set the record straight once and for all. There are some people who speak solely from their personal agenda, with no regard to the truth, without a single thought whom it might hurt. Their one and only motivation is to spread a self-centered, self-serving skewed viewpoint of the world which they believe will be of benefit to them right or wrong. I cannot tell you how steamed I get when I hear those people speak, talking with authority when they don't have a clue as to what's true. I've known only the best of treatment from the Nazis and frankly sometimes they are better to me than I am myself.

FT: Wow! That's some speech, very powerful. I just want to conclude that you are a shining example of what even a Jew can be. If all Jews were like you it would certainly make the final solution much easier and these times much more pleasant. Please check this column next week as we explore the Jewish conspiracy to re-introduce the Black Plague to Europe.

Sunday, November 01, 2015

Part 1: The Judas Jew

"Hurry, everyone, or you're going to get left behind!" Gullible Gladys, always excited to please, was the first one on the cattle car. "This is going to be great!"

The rest of the crowded angry Jews were not so enthused as they were manhandled by scowling, gun-toting Nazis. One elderly man was completely unamused. "These men are beasts stuffing us into cramped cars without even a toilet!"

"They're doing the best they can!" countered Gullible Gladys. "Put on your happy face!"

"You've got a real attitude problem, you do."

"I'm choosing to be positive. I'm one of the good guys!"

A mother and her small children were downcast. "We don't want to go to this camp. I'm hearing horrible things."

"Don't listen to those negative nabobs! The Nazis are trying a New Way. Give it a chance!"

"I hear they work you until you drop."

"Are expecting something for free? I know I'm certainly not. Work is good for you. We can't expect concentration camps to be perfect. Don't let perfect be the enemy of the good!"

"I don't care what you say, I still don't want to go."

"Well, the decision has been made! Nothing you can do! They must be so smart to be making all these decisive decisions! It's coming whether we like it or not!"

"What if we get there and it's as horrible as they say?"

"Then it's our job to educate them things aren't working as their good intentions hoped. How can they know if we don't tell them?"

A murmur of disgust percolated through the increasingly squished crowd. Who was this strange woman so insistent on her willful ignorance? Gullible Gladys took the skepticism as a badge of honor. A distinguished gentleman, however, took great exception to her remarks.

"Young lady, you must have part of your brain missing. My life is important. I do not need these Nazis to run it for me. I wish to have no part in this act of evil."

"Oh, so it's OK for everyone else to go but not you? You're too good to ever take any orders? I'm so glad to hear you've got all the answers! My word, the nerve of some people!"

The crowd gasped at her amazing and startling insolence only to be interrupted by a Nazi guard making his way through.

"You, come with me," he ordered Gullible Gladys. The cramped gathering erupted in cheers.

"See, lady? You're going to get it now. Hope you're satisfied!"

"Stupid bitch getting what she deserves licking Nazi boots!"

"Hope you get raped like my sister did. Maybe that will open your stubborn eyes!"

The guard presented her to an officer. "Come with us to headquarters." Gullible Gladys was stuffed into a gleaming black car and ushered to the top floor of a most impressive building in the heart of Berlin's power district. The officer introduced her to the small man sitting behind a large desk. "This is Herr Goebbels. He wishes to speak to you."

"Oh, my! I've heard of you. You're very high ranking! I'm deeply honored you would make time for me."

"Especially you being a lowly Jew," he snarked.

A ripple of excitement from the humiliation shot through her. "Doubly so, sir!"

"We can use someone like you."

"I can't tell you what purpose and meaning it would give to my life to be used by you!"

"I must say, you truly are a piece of work." The Miserable German let loose with a rare smile that so ill-suited his face. "We are going to make you Queen Of The Cattle Cars."

"My life has meaning! If only those others jeering me as I was taken away could see me now! They said only bad things would happen to me here. I'd sure like to put a few of them in their place!"

"We Nazis get a bad reputation sometimes from the malcontents that infest any society. I'm sure there were many aboard you car."

"It was downright shameful hearing the complaints! I truly expect more from my fellow Jews. I sincerely apologize for them."

"You are a most wise and insightful person. The others are blocked by their negativity."

"Exactly what I think!"

The two liars recognized a kindred spirit in each other, forming a bond against the recalcitrant enemy Jews who refused the enlightenment of the New Way. Goebbels laid out a mission for her as they collaborated deep into the night. Gullible Gladys was to be shipped to various induction points to cajole, coerce and chastise any victims showing reluctance.

"Oh, my! I'm going to be very busy! No wonder you demi-gods are conquering the world!"

"The future is ours," hissed the little man.

Off she went, fresh mandate in hand, happier then she'd ever been in her life. This is what she'd longed for her entire life: a clear and irrefutable mandate. Before, she'd had only her worthless own thinking to go by. But now she was free to lie with abandon with not only approval from her applauding superiors of the state but to feed the rising notion of her superior morality. Certainly the most heady times of her life!

Exhaustion set in with the grueling schedule and the constant bickering she had to endure from the unwilling Nazi prey who at one point she even deemed to be "traitors to the Jewish race." But Gullible Gladys thrived on her masochistic martyrdom, perversely proud to risk her life for this Great Purpose. "If I must die for this then I must die," she'd pretend to woefully sigh.

On occasion she'd even win a convert to the cause and nothing made her more deliriously happy. In bed at night she'd revel in these victories that propelled her forward even harder. Gullible Gladys could see no end to her bright future, the sky the limit. She lost all tolerance for even the slightest criticism of the camps, Goebbels himself praising her galling and fanatical nature. She found herself unable to stop congratulating herself for her lifesaving positivity refused by the fools of the world living pointless lives. "And they do it on purpose! Inexcusable!"

An underground assassination group targeted Gullible Gladys as she grew to infamy. This was an especially hot topic for camp refugees who'd survived the horrors. "She's a murderer! Both of people and of the truth. She must be stopped!" But it was pointed out by cooler heads that no one had to believe her lies and that vengeance was the Lord's. For on the Day of Revelation, Gullible Gladys would get on her knees and pray with every ounce of her misbegotten and howling soul she had been killed.

The invasions on two fronts by the allies and the deteriorating condition of bombed Berlin were inconvenient facts Gullible Gladys ridiculed per her religion of blind optimism. "We'll just have to make adjustments is all. Keep your chin up!" But when realists determined the end was near there was a grand rush of a final push for Jewish atrocities. That's when Gullible Gladys got her orders to report for camp. Many soldiers were laughing at her knowing the eye-opening experience awaiting her.

A friend pulled her aside. "Hear those soldiers laughing at you? This is terrible!"

"Just wait and see. They think I won't make it at the camps. I'll show them!"

"Boy, you really don't get it, do you?"


A slow, sinking feeling descended on Gullible Gladys, her world turning from color to black and white. The stench of death and human horror as she passed through the cold iron gate of this monument to insanity filled her nostrils with terror. She attempted to utter one last hopeless lie but her lips failed her. A guard couldn't help but snicker. "Danke schon for all your help in this, Jewess!" The rest of the guards laughed and for the first time in her life Gullible Gladys realized why they laughed. She wretched on the spot.

On specific instructions from her "great friend" Goebbels, she was tied to a wall in a gas chamber. Her daughters were brought in, bound to crosses. "Mommy, you told us to come!" Then they were gagged and raped before her very eyes. "This isn't the pleasant experience you promised!" she wailed as a futile protest. The protest only egged on the guards' satisfaction on showing her what a massive idiot she had been. Then Gullible Gladys descended into hysterical insanity as she watched each daughter loaded into the oven to be burned alive.

After a while she became numb to witnessing the endless murders mandated by the state she had worshipped. For the rest of her living days she would be a prisoner in her own mind, unable to process the regret of letting monsters decide her life. She was haunted by her old self-deception: "Just say they are not monsters and you'll be a hero!" Gullible Gladys screamed as she realized every argument she thought she'd won she'd actually lost. Like Judas before her, she found no recourse for betrayal.

Post war fury boiled over as Gullible Gladys was literally tarred and feathered, her head shaven, and forced to walk nude in public giving the Nazi salute. Gullible Gladys thought the fury of those she betrayed would be the worst fate she could imagine until she felt the absence of it; left empty and alone in a swirling black world of perpetual nightmares she could never cleanse from her soul. Like all pseudo-liberals, she thought to speak well of evil made her "open and broad-minded to new ideas", a "person above it all" and most of all, "justified without question."

The Queen Of The Cattle Car was branded into the pages of history as an example of one of the great Judas's of all time. But even then, the lesson was not learned as the new fascism of corporations rose to power spawning a new generation of Gullible Gladys's promoting the enslavement of tens of millions, hoping for a future that does not exist until the final day of revelation when every lie is stripped away forever. The more you lie, the more you die.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Is It Safe?

[I met the courier by night's relief. He had news that must get through.]

Is it safe?


They are coming?


Who are they coming for?

The innocent and the guilty, with equal contempt for both.

The corporate Cheka?

Who else? They have the mandate of the people - they want blood, even if it's their own.

But why??

To cover their own sins they must pretend yours. The more the jury lusts the higher the sentence for a man accused of lust.

How does that fool God?

It does if you see yourself as God.

They call themselves Angels...

Because they are Devils...

But the devils are winning.

When has bloodlust not ruled?

Is anyone safe?

"From the sky will come the great King of Terror"

Only the dead, whether above or below ground. Dead vampires survive by feeding off the life of others. Many are the fools who wrongly sacrifice their lives to the vampires in false hope of being "useful".

A desperate man came knocking on my door.

You can give no quarter.

Then no quarter can be taken.

Exactly. Every refuge will be found out and exposed by ruthless time.

What if I just follow the sun?

The sun's been patented. Can you afford it?

I told them of the dam failing and they called me the enemy.

There's no one left to whom you can blow the whistle.

Then the dam broke and they all died.

As they wished. Nature still has the final say over your enemies.

But I did not wish it. Down this road we all die. I thought I was doing good finding the truth.

The truth was already known or they would not have declared you enemy.

I don't see an endgame. We protect lies so we won't look like fools but in the end that only makes us die like fools.

Thy will be done.

Maybe I should just say nothing if everything is already known.

Making the world safe for greed

Soldiers of silence slay speech with slicing savagery.

I don't want to speak but I don't want to be a soldier. I just want to rest, to go underground.

Back to the other blog? You must do what you must do.

What must you do?

I cannot rest. I have news that must get through.

So there is still something important out there worth fighting for despite the corporate takeover by the anti-Christs? Even though the chains grow heavier every day there still must be pockets of hope. Not every soul has surrendered to the silence! The dream is still alive. Tell me! Tell me the news that must get through!

The news that must get through is that there is no news that must get through.

Aw, fuck.

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Glimpse Of a Dead Man

They move in the shadows, observing the living. They must do as the others do to seem as the others do. Baseball games hiding in the cheering crowd, daily jobs of mortal terror, small abodes rarely visited - always bleeding, always needing, hoping to blend their dying hearts within the mosaic of life. Who would they have been? What is their sin? How does this happen? No one dare ask.

Sidney decorated the sun. His lawn green as summer and his outdoor paint right as rain. These were the last great hopes in his life. If driving down the neighborhood his house appeared as well kept and attended as the rest then he'd done his job. Nothing gave him more satisfaction - or more grief - than breathing life into this fiction. Sidney lived for the moment of illusion his fa├žade got the respect he himself desperately craved. Who cares if they find out the truth later on, just please believe for a second before you leave!

Sometimes he hid in the attic, looking to escape the wrong and the right, to be neither home nor away. But those were the worst of times: nightmares of been left for dead in the desert, forests filled with half-human creatures hunting the remaining human, flashes of light having captured him unaware exposed before God and Man. The harder Sidney looked for rest, the less he found. Like any thief, for him a moment given must be a moment stolen. Oh, for the sunbathing daughter next door to return home from college. Her careless laughter never left his ears.

Time was not on his side. Peeking through the window drapes, he prayed for a car to drive by to be duly impressed by his immaculate yard. Solid citizen, that Sidney! At commercial breaks he'd sneak over to the window to check for the thrill of possible life breathed into his lie. As he peered through the carefully unnoticeable crack, the TV blared bikini models with beer bottles on a foreign planet, Sidney's connection to the living world fed through fiber optic cable. He thought to himself as he gazed on his sun-drenched yard: you'll love me if you don't get to know me.

Sometimes he had to make forays into the real world. Though at times the inside of his house fell into deep disarray just from a sheer lack of will to live, Sidney knew he had to keep his bases covered for any potential visitors. He'd bought a Japanese print he needed framed and that meant outside contact in a public setting. Sidney girded himself. Remember, you only have as many problems as they think you have. Bluff your way through, Peachy!

It was like standing barefoot on a frying pan waiting at the framer's desk at Michaels. No one was around as Sidney madly debated what to do. What would a normal person do in this situation? Would they stay or would they go? Am I making a fool of myself just standing here? Shit, why can't someone be here when I show up?? Then Sidney got his answer when the framing clerk returned with a customer fallen from the heavens.

"Magic Chemistry" was the only phrase he could come up with later. The minute he saw Her mad passion filled his body. Sidney's inhibitions melted and even his old nemesis Fear loosened its grip. She was much younger than he but that made no matter. How clearly She was a perfect fit! Never had he felt such a powerful urge to kiss someone. It was the natural thing to do. She was with an older couple who obviously seemed her parents. How could he get passed them?

Inwardly Sidney begged the store clerk to take her time, the longer to gaze upon She and explore this feeling invading his soul. He would just go up to her and longingly kiss and She would understand why. He knew this. So many old wounds would heal in that moment. Unimagined doors would open afterwards. She could carry him down streams to a new and different life. Hell, to actually have a life. Maybe he could do it if her parents weren't standing there. Maybe he could do it if he weren't damaged goods.


The clerk turned to Sidney as the trio walked away forever out of his life. He didn't know why She appeared at that moment in his life. He was dying pretty much as he'd always done. The universe knew of this explosive and life-changing opportunity passing but no mortal being. Sidney could barely feign interest in the framing after having his dead world rocked to its knees. What had just happened? Who had he just lost? This he would ponder until his dying day.

That was in February. By April he still replayed the moment over and over in his mind, imagining what could have been. A deep sorrow anchored him to his couch; listless and lifeless, barely able even to change the remote. A real man would kill himself. How can I keep pretending to have a future? On TV a baseball game started. Another dead man - once President - threw out the first pitch to the sound of thunderous cheers. Dead souls applauding another dead soul in false salvation. Sidney witnessed this through the slits of his eyes.

"Damn," he moped. "He's so much better at being dead than I am."

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Takeko Battles The Wind

Into the sky a glimmering sword
Slicing air in hopes untoward;
The honor of ten thousand years
Depends upon a single spear.

The world her life is rearranging,
"These my times they aren't a-changing!";
"I will stop the setting sun
"To keep the clan my number one."

She holds the hope of an Autumn leaf
Not falling from the tree in grief;
To freeze a snowflake in the air
Safe from earth's melting despair.

Are these not glories to behold?
To walk in winter un-feeling cold?
To touch the sun and yet not burn,
Is that not worthy for Man to learn?

With her spear she battles bullet
But soldiers' triggers cannot pull it;
Takeko and her warrior women
Shame the modern fighting men.

Rushing forward though ready lost
Miscalculating the human cost;
She rages on defeating foe
Only of this will history know.

Nakano Takeko superstar
Died before she lived too far;
Her wisdom buried in sharpened steel
She made war on love she'd feel.

Is your enemy in a flower?
Before your life did you cower?
It's easy to say we're born to die
But did you ask if that's a lie?

Never a sword can change the wind,
Never a river that does not bend;
She came and left us much too soon
Beside her grave I mourn the moon.