Serious a poem about memory

i will carry you on my back

i won't let you die

i will carry this weight on my back

i won't let you rot

i will carry this body on my back 

i won't let you rest 

i will carry this.... 

oh look!

what a cute pineapple hat!

wait...

what was i talking about?

What was I saying again?

the gas mask filters out pixels they

color the air with false reality confetti it 

blinds white and black deco holes into

drifting, eyes being held by

a helpful dreadlocked nymph who

lives inside the soldiers head but

is not a symptom of

pixel inhalation and

secret moments in solarized cobalt blue and

grainy figures in fish eye focus are

his armor and so are

the poppy field hat wearers who

throw seeds and wear seeds and are

blossoms yet to be but red petaled they are i

saw it worn on

fat arms sweating, sewn from scribbles and filigree and labyrinths they

turn and twist into clashing worlds that are also friends really, you

have to keep moving to be real and

in war between dichotomous forces you must

fashion armor that grows and dies and laughs and wilts and

kicks and twirls and flies and pouts and 

is born one more time for

it cannot break under the pressure of

the turning writhing twitching absurdity that

hard unyielding impostor we mistake for

logic it is or is not so

order the last round it is or is not well

that red light glowing it is or is not see

that building you live in it is or is not and

that body you inhabit it is or is not i am telling….OUCH!

I stubbed my toe!

It hurts so bad!

Dammnit!

Fragments and Such about evolution, human kindness and arguing with a banana about philosophy

                                                                                        Catholicpatristics.blogspot.com

Extinct 

the bloodline of a saint

is a rare precious thing

red on the vine it rots

so that others can touch 

the sun.

this is not a finished work

but was prompted by Colin Quin's stand up 

where he points out

we are descended from the biggest assholes history has to offer

most likely any creature, person or even plant with an altruistic nature

has died off in the survival of the fittest

hmmm...

what a cool thought experiment!

a species of altruistic humans going extinct

species that were once named saints

and should be placed on the endangered species list

there is an open door there for some sci fi fun

but....

i have not finished the poem because i am unsure about the concept

and how it regards plants

i shall have to talk to my lemon tree about it

and have a discussion in my garden

I just hope my strawberry patch does not tell me to fuck off

and I do not get into any arguments on my banana phone 

on my quest to discover

the true story

of blue apples

and what they really mean

Fragment of short story witty banter fantasy about religion and poot the votive statue

"Here! This is the last of our chickens. go to the market and get some ginger."

"For the beans?"

"Wha?! For the….for the beans?! Are you mad? For our figure at the temple!"

"What are you going on about woman? It's a votive statue….it doesn't need …ginger….it doesn't even have a proper mouth!"

"This ginger is not for eating! It's to be given as an offering…you know….to the god we worship?! What is it going to give the gate keeper then tell me that, eh?"

"Look, I traded two chickens,  one of my nicest pots and my very own marker medallion for this…..shit!"

"Keep your voice down oy!"

"Yeah yeah…..I'm just sayin, votive statues all this….."

he said gesturing to the ornate temple at the center of the village…..

"it's all bullshit."

"But I'm the village medium I am and I ain't bullshittin."

"But honey suckle your aren't the village medium it is your step sister, remember?"

"I don't have a step sister."

"What they got divorced already?"

"Of course not, you can't get divorced that's why I'm stuck with you."

"But you said you had a step sister twice removed and then this long story I half listened to."

"So….you don't listen to my stories, eh?"

"No sugar dumpling, I mean yes!" Heppo said fawning over his voluptuous wife. "I'm not saying anything bad about you sugar bottom. we could get some sugar instead of ginger…..for the beans…..it would save us half a chicken!"

"HURUMF! Well someone's a medium whoever that may be and I KNOW I know…..that there is such things inside of us as souls and more besides! If your not fearin then why yous bought the statue then, tarry and way you are afraid of the darkness, the mad creeping darkness and the eye that looks into our own and sees naught but itself!"

"No, actually wife…I am not….I just don't want undo attention from the priest's military."

 "Ohhhhh…un do… he says…that's big talkin there for a potter husband, I should have listened to my mother and married the butcher…..a man becomes practical beein' round blood and guts like he."

"He smells like rotten pig and looks like rotten pig and he's also a rotten pig!"

"Humf! better then a…..grasshopper that talks like a…..ummmmm…..peep frog or something."

"Nice try honey."

"Hurmf! I would know better then you if I did know which I may or may not."

"That's the best argument for anything I've ever heard…."

"Well then that settles it! You ARE getting ginger for poot and that is that……I'm not going to have him carrying my eternal soul and getting stuck at the gate of light it just won't do."

"You NAMED it? and you named it Poot?"

"What else would I name it, it looks like a Poot."

"Well, fine dearest honey suckle bottom……I will get the ginger but all of this….all of THIS….."

He waved his hand at society….

"Is bull."