Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

[Lipinski]

Now, I've witnessed a lot in the time I've occupied this shell called, body. Been all over the world. Done many, many things. Pretty much know a whole lot of strange things, but today I got to see a first.

Driving home from my favorite store, Costco, I witnessed two men having sex on the highway. It was not in the middle of the highway but what's a couple of feet when they were, uh, 'standing' only a couple of meters as I passed. Both were outside their car and obviously having a great time. On their faces it showed both passion and the strong influence of some mind altering substance. Probably a mixture of 'stuff'.

Interesting. Used to be illegal to do such things in public but nowadays, everything is 'okey dokey'. (in their case, pokey-pokey) I really care less what people do 'out of sight' (unless it involves children, for those people I believe in very sharp instruments and removal of body parts) But, guess when drugs are involved, it really changes the parameters of behavior.

And, while trying to erase what is now filed away in my central processing unit, it was inspirational.
***

Piston Power

Feeding the fire, the mouth of consumption demands
More, and more, and still
more.

Frenzy of sorts to feed this fire,
mounting sweat, cursing the gods...
more
more
more...

With movement the wheels of life turned by the highway
by which the people moved
rails set where two run parallel.

Faster now, the plunging rods appear, disappear, appear, until
they blur
The sounds wind up... Whoo Hoo, Whoo Hoooooo...

Locomotion of humanity where the fuel is passion and yearn
On the side of the highway were two
One the locomotive
One the caboose.

[Lipinski]

Amazing how quickly the season of Summer come to the day when the switch is flipped and Fall arrives. One day upon many, the heat temp is over 100. The sky is filled with smoke. In one day, the smoke goes, the temp falls, the light dims, the stars fall and soon, the moon devours the sun.

It is all very inspirational. Weather and seasons have always been inspirational for writers. 'Now is the winter of our discontent'.

Yellow jackets are extremely busy as they know their time is almost done. The bumblebee, ladybug, mantis... all know the season has changed. Even the birds. The hummingbird is only days away from migrating. The children already are heading back to school. The stores filled with Fall themes. Even Costco had many racks filled with costumes for the youngsters for an event over two month away.
***

Month of the Moon

Orbiting a path predictable for years, a millennium, a day
Sacrifices made
Wolves howling
Madness where the full moon lets the lunatics play.

New and old, old and new, impacted by parts of planets
and still
holding sway.

They say there is a man-in-the moon... why not a woman or a mouse?
While made of cheese, it all could make sense for a rodent
and only male humans have walked the surface of the moon...

August 21 and out come the maniacs, the clueless, the few
North America gets a show where the moon outshows the sun
the day where the moon eats the sun.

There will be sex, there will be song, there will be blindness as some watch before and without protection from the rays of the sun.
It must mean something, this moment, this day, where darkness floods the land?
An omen, a portent, a sense, a smell, a sight, maybe all for fun?

Winds will blow, smiling and laughing
Mice will scurry for food.
Insects will be
Birds though, will wonder, is it evening, morning, night or day?

Only for a moment, a wonder seen and felt
A matter all, of perspective as those on the ground wait
while high above, far above mankind and his space
a dragon flies between the sun and moon, looking down and smiling
for it is just another day.

[Lipinski]

'Dang', now there is a word a lot of writers don't use. I like 'dang' and dang it, I like listening to AC/DC. Currently listening and greatly admire their talent. Especially Angus Young, the guitar player. And I also like their lead singer. Nice to see they have survived the ages well.

Great day outside here today. Smoke went bye-bye. Air is a lot cleaner. And still thinking about the two fuel cans I found at the dumpsters yesterday along with three pennies and a dime (Yep, I'm one of those who will bend over and pick up pennies, dang, I like pennies)

"Robin?"

Yes, I know what you're going to say parasite. You're about to call me a derogatory name or say I'm retarded.

"No. I was going to say I too, bend over for pennies, plus I help old ladies cross the street and I donate old food to the homeless..."

Yeah, and that little fat man in North Korea loves world peace.

"Yes, you're were right the first time Robin, you are retarded. Dang, I'm good."

Good at being a thorn in my ass, and dang it, I appreciate it.

"No problem shithead. Oh, you do know there is some cake in the kitchen? Thought you could keep that a secret from me?"

Dang it...
***

Dang

Pow, zap, yippee, zinger, hum dinger...
words of yesterday used today
for a bit of
flavor.

Youngsters use LOL or OMG
while the olders use
words much bolder.

Fuck and shit came along, entering the vocabulary, even in song.

What will be the words of tomorrow?
One where people will get mad or smile
Dang, Damn, Dingo, Doo Doo, Diazoplanextorication...

Dang.

[Lipinski]

Imagination is necessary for a writer, as if without it would be pretty boring just writing about daily life as viewed and lived. "Today I woke up and ate potatoes and eggs. Then I watched my feet..." Yikes!

However, since I'm nuts my life is crazy. So, I don't need imagination. Take today for example. At work I watched a female mantis catch and devour yellow jackets. She was confident, talked a lot, actually bragging, and was a damn good huntress.

Then I got talked too by another female mantis who thought she was bigger than me. Took a stick and let her walk on it and then I placed her in a safe place so she would not get squished by my big feet.

And then there were the beetles. Big ones, small ones, all, "Yap, yap, yap..."

On the way home a huge mule deer buck was showing off his new antlers. He was all like, "Hey. Dude. Whatta think? Pretty cool huh? Ladies are gonna dig me this Fall..."

And then I stopped off to get instructions on how to feed the damn starfish I took care of before. It used to spit out the shrimp I fed it and now I learned it's on a seaweed/kelp fixation. Watched it get lifted off the bottom by an arrogant horseshoe crab.

And then, the people I'm going to 'fishsit' gave me a treat for the corgi's. A pizzle. Now a pizzle is sold in a bag at Costco. fifteen pizzles for $20. Now what is a pizzle you ask...

"Oh please Robin. What is a pizzle? I've waited my whole life for this moment. Learning what a pizzle is is one of the items on my bucket list... You're a dick Robin."

Yep, you guessed it parasite. A pizzle is a polite way the people packaging and sell pizzles can call a bull penis. A penis, cock, dick... Ha! Now instead of calling my corgi's idiots and can call them cock suckers. They took awhile, about a half an hour but they finished it and looked at me like, "I really, really like you. Can have another?"

So. Who needs imagination when reality is already weird enough. And if any reader learned anything at all from this today, it is what a pizzle is. And the way my corgi's are now sitting below me looking up at me... I might have to lock them outside the bedroom tonight. Don't want them getting strange ideas.

[Lester Curtis]

Wait--you got Corgis--and you don't want them having strange ideas?

You were right; you *are* nuts.

And the only reason you can buy pizzles for dog-treats is that it's illegal to make them into bologna.

[Lipinski]

Dang it Lester, I watch a television show called, Chopped. It is on the Food network and it is a show where the cooks are given a basket filled with odd stuff. Such food items as a skinned pigs head, lentils and soy sauce. Then, they all have less then an hour to prepare something tasty. Now, you mentioned on of my favorite food groups, bologna. (the others are, pizza, chips, dip, chocolate, ice cream, and pizza... did I mention pizza?) Could you imagine a basket filled with. Pizzles, green beans, and some duran fruit.

Of course I had to smell the pizzle and you know what it smelled like?

"What Robin? We're all breathless with anticipation. Dick breath..."

Yep. Correct again Parasite. They smelled like...

(how's the cat? wanna trade it for a corgi, mine now have pizzle breath)
***

A hay truck caught on fire on the local hill/highway. I think it was spontaneous combustion. This occurs when hay gets wet and then baled. A lot of barns burn down when the hay is stacked inside. Thus, the inspiration for tonight.

Burnout

Green grass cut in the Summer heat,
laid in windrow and dried,
hearing summer sounds of crickets
sounds of tractors pulling balers
loading semi's high.

Pulling grade and hay, an evening sun sets away
Heat growing
inside.

Bursting into flame, taking the drivers breath away
Pulling to the side and fleeing
leaving a fire to play.

Sirens and traffic
Burning truck, tires, and hay
For hours it burned until the sun set and the flames went away.

Pile of metal remained, waiting for the sounds of a tractor to come and pull it away.
Hearing sounds of summer crickets
Just another day.

[Lipinski]

Payday today. Supposed to be a happy day. Yet, seems all I do is piss people off. Currently getting yelled at. Makes me think, no, strike that, inspires me.
(written by getting yelled at, another way a writer can let the words the flow)
***

Silence


Once a question, to lose sight or hearing?

Sight is the correct answer as to not hear is to be lonely, apart from the herd.

I'd rather lose hearing and see sounds, see smells, see emotions, see the a way out.

[Lipinski]

"Ever get tired of writing?"

Nope. Never. Just get tired.

It is nice to write, to feel the keyboard tie letters together and give birth to words. Words in turn string along into sentences, paragraphs, pages, books.

***

"So, you dare show your eyes peasant. Kneel. Bow before me so that I might spare your worthless life." Arrogance spoken by those filled with arrogant power.

"No."

"What? KNEEL! NOW!" A bared silver blade reflected the sunlight off its highly polished surface. This sword was gripped tightly by Lord of Ringland.

"No. I will not kneel. It is you who will now sheath your weapon and be on your way." The voice was calm. Soft. There was no feeling of fear, angst, or anything other than a simple statement made by a simple traveler passing through the Lords realm.

People in power are in power because they get their way. Their will is obeyed. Their orders adhered to. When they are confronted, they declare war and wage it fully.

"Then, you will die." And with that, the Lord of Ringland reared his horse back on its two rear feet and raised his sword high above his head, swinging down with great swiftness to cleave the defiant traveler in two.

"Wha... What sort of trickery is this?" The sound of a power now bewildered. His sword did indeed pass through, tearing cloth in two but showing no signs of gore, blood, or torn flesh.

"You are a foolish man. A Lord lost with his world and his power. I told you in simple language to sheath your weapon and be on your way. Now you shall be a new Lord. A Lord fitting of your title..." this said by the now naked traveler softly glowing in a bath of white on the opposite side of the horse.

Within minutes there was nothing to be seen. There was no traveler. There was no human master of power. Even the horse was not seen, only heard as it galloped towards its stable and home.

All that could be seen is the fresh pile of horseshit and the buzzing large fly buzzing around the steaming pile. It was a weak, puny insect with a powerful name: The Lord of the flies.

[Lipinski]

sliver bites
skinny bites
radiate.

..................from there it was here
and................then
there.


.........................................................taken...................forged neither in heaven
nor
hell.



A concept
An idea
And then
there..........................inside.....................a dark matter...........

cried.

[Lipinski]

lioness prowled above the skunk well traveled
in morning sun, a wolf slunk shadows
quail played with air as chukars strayed.

air became heavy, so too, the rocks beneath
gravity so strong
it pulled.

So strong even the thoughts shrank, flattened, and spirits rose
So high, beyond and beyond until a barrier made
So then the sun and moon gave...

Brightly now, the sky returned, the traffic increased
yet, what no one saw but what is felt...

the gravity remained...

[Lipinski]

smoke is back. fires still burning. people are still bat shit crazy. gotta be some inspiration in all that somewhere.
***

The child lay in intensive care while mothers, relatives, friends, while all take concern
Premature they say when really who is to say
the moments when they come and go
revolving doors of life at play.

Arrogance of mankind so obvious with tools of war and words to show
Poison, death, hate,
and games.

The child lay in intensive care...doctors, nurses, machines, hold sway
Bright lights
sterile clean with doors that swing both ways
maybe a prayer?
maybe an hour, a day?

A million years from now, among the memories of ash and clay
a child's hand touched
a life gave.

[Lipinski]

Little rattlesnakes don't get their first rattle until a year old. So, unless you know better, they look much like other snakes except the little buggers have teeth. Today the man I'm working for said, "Kill it." It is his house so I did. Little bugger was fast and struck at my shoes, hand, and everything else near it. I hate killing. It brings no joy or sense of satisfaction. I guess being a part of this world means, 'kill or be killed'. And just look at the daily news. I'm surprised there is not even more death going on out there.

But, inspiration for writers comes from everywhere, including, killing.
***

Life or Death

To see, to be, to exist
means
to be alive.

To see, to be, to exist
means
to die.

So strange two opposites are needed
so that both need the other
to exist.

To live
To die
Eggs die
Sperm die
It's truly amazing anything biological can exist.

[Lipinski]

"Sigh..."

What's up parasite, run out of potato chips?

"No, got plenty plus a new stash of onion dip. No, (shaking its head) I can't believe you did it.

Did what, be nice to you for a change?

"No. I mean, I know you thought about it but you actually painted your toenails pink."

Does this disturb you?

"No. Its, its, its just that... sigh. Its just that you used to be 'normal'. It used to be that I could get you upset. And now, you're proving to be more crazy than I am."

That's good. Plus (taking off my shoes and socks) Looky at that! Not only pink but pink with sparkles...

"I'm so proud of you. You're finally growing up."
***

Yep. Since I'm an egomaniac, narcisstic, pride filled, idiot. Along with a whole slew of other titles. I painted my immensely ugly toenails bright pink with sparkles. Why? Because I wanted to. Not for sexual identity. Not for anything other than to try it. Afterall, women do it all the time and enjoy it so I thought I'd try. And you know what? Damn, it feels great. Already getting ideas for some color combo's in the future. I wonder why society always tries to tell males and females what they can and cannot do? Though, for me, not gonna do the fingers. The dress though, as I wrote earlier, is definitely on my list as I've designed a very comfortable one complete with durable function.

Also, today I got a kick out of the largest rattlesnake I've seen in a long time. It was hanging out in my garden and was a pisser. He thought it was great I painted the nails (and he would have too if only he had nails) Good hunting fella.

And so, more inspiration. And in case anyone reads this shit, you may be wondering why an ugly old crazy man who loves to write would paint his nails. The answer is: As a writer it is good to experience the exotic and new. I feel that it will help inspire the creativity when writing. So, if you're a guy, a writer, you may want to try it. I find it extremely comforting, fun, and inspiring. If you're female, try wearing a jock strap.
***

Snake Paint

Sidewalk still warm from the time the sun set
Covered in swirls, twirls, circles, and paint.

"What art. So creative. Fantastic."
People give compliment for an artist.

Many feet pass while many see the paint as it fades
A mystery artist.

On the side near the sandbox, children once played with paint
leaving so much, so many colors, wet.

A snake slithered through while seeking the warmth of the evening heat
leaving a story behind, and a smile.

[Lipinski]

Stars and Missiles

One star
One far away
Once a flicker, a sun, and then, nova.

Trillions of miles away beneath the eaves sat a man looking
seeing
a flicker
a sun
a nova.

One country
One far away
Once stable, and proud, then rogue.

Thousands of miles away beneath the eaves sat a man looking
seeing
a flicker
a trail
a nova.

For all now, ashes.

[Lipinski]

Aside from the little fat man in North Korea playing with rockets not much else interesting in the news. Same old, "Trump is Hitler" or "I'm peaceful and loving, just don't say anything against what I think or I'll destroy you."

But did find some interesting inspiration: Health professionals report cases where people put sunscreen on their eyeballs to watch eclipse

People never cease to amaze me.

"Hi doc."

"What seems to be the problem young man." Doctors have seen it all. Lightbulbs stuck up the old bung holes, arrows sticking out of the head, flesh eating bacteria...

"Well. My eyes hurt like hell."

"Mmm... let me see." Looking into the eyes with a light while wearing latex gloves. His breath smelling like tuna on rye as he had just returned to his office after a great lunch.

"It seems you have some irritation as your eyes are blood shot. Let me ask, have you had anything enter your eye in the last day or so?"

"Well, I did put some sunscreen in my eyes so I could watch the eclipse. Do you think that could be the problem."

"You want the truth son?"

"Yes. I was thinking that the sunscreen was probably the problem."

"Yes, but not only that."

"What else doc?"

"Your parents."

"My parents? How?"

"Because they raised a fucking moron. Good god, what the hell possessed you to put an ointment designed for skin, onto your eyeball? No, I blame your stupidity and your parents. Hopefully your father had a vasectomy and your mother had her tubes tied. Please, tell me you're the only child."

With a slight tone of hurt in his voice, the reply was, "No. I have three sisters and three brothers..."

"Let me guess, they put sunscreen lotion in their eyes too?"

"Oh yes. Their sitting out in the waiting room. So, doc, what can I do about this?"

"That's easy. Here, put your head inside here."

"That looks like a microwave doc, is it safe?"

"Do you have a pacemaker?"

"No."

"Good, then just put your head inside and when you're ready push the start button but first, let me wrap your head in tin foil."

BZZZZZZAPPPP! (the odor of the docs tuna and rye now competed with the smell of roasting hair and flesh)

"Okay nurse, send in the next idiot."

[Lipinski]

Storms are so inspirational. The wind and lightning. The anger of a woman. The growl of a dog. So much inspiration.
****

Dust

Everywhere settled, serene, laying as if a part instead of apart.
And then,
the wind begins.

Dry stalk bends more than it ever did when limber, young and green.
Rain flies sideways, much like her words of anger released
Sleeping dog dreaming of fleas, jumps instantly into anger when teased.

Comets came and released
Rain comes and drenches
Fire spews ash to mix with soil; so much turmoil when the wind decides to be.

Followed once more by calm, by serene, by peace
when inside resides the constant storm of desire, the tornado of passion.
Swirling dust of emotions and memories.
A storm forever in motion, inside of me.

[Lipinski]

Ha! Why are people such... Or, maybe it's just me. Rape. Murder. Theft. Envy. Pride. Almost rather be with a bunch of monkeys then people, wait a minute, I AM with a bunch of monkeys... Please pass the banana's.

The reason I mention the above is that it is great for a writer (in my opinion) to get hostile feedback from readers. And the internet/world wide web is the perfect place to get such feedback.

I suspect many of you have various alias's, avatars, and a whole slew of other identities. I tried that but prefer to be what and who I am, thus I will use my name as I am no coward. But there I go, straying into what does not matter.

Check out any shit hole forum site such as investors hub or poetry circle or actually, anyone of the millions of site with the exception of a very few. On them you will see anonymous idiots harassing, mean, cruel, and downright, pieces of monkey poo.

If you engage in kind with the same stuff then nothing gets solved. What I have found is that not only is this primitive world a very hostile, horrible, planet of living death but it is even worse when so called, 'intellectuals' open their minds and gush out the crap inside. I personally want no part of it but today on another site experienced the monkey poo piles.

"Robin, would you like a tissue? Here, blow your snot on my sleeve."

No thanks parasite, I'll use mine.

I've always wondered why more people don't write here on the Aphelion site and I think the reason is they are afraid of getting 'hurt'. That someone will say something 'bad' about their story/writing. I could be wrong, after all I once had hope for the herd of human monkeys, but not any more.

Constructive critisism (see? my spelling sucks. part of the moneky inside mi) is good. Monkey shit flung at someone not only stinks but it can cause a person to stop writing. Though, some monkeys such as myself, actually feel dealing with idiots is good and helps not only the inside but the writing. So, in a long winded way, monkey poo is actually inspirational.

How do you handle it when someone attacks your writing? Maybe not on a personal level but maybe attacks one of your characters such as , "Hey, titmous123, that Karglon idiot deserved to get shot by the Torg, just like you do..." that is an attack, not constructive critisism. Do you reply with, "Well horsedick, what did you write? How to eat puke?" And there you have the world wide web of the average forum. A whole lot of anger and hate mixed together and released.

I think though, it is actually good as the whole internet thing is a great experiment in evolution. I also really like this forum and website. The editors have allowed (tolerated) my monkey poo, and I've never been attacked here, rather the opposite. People like Mark, Lester, Eddie, and others, have actually been very inspirational in a positive way.

And, finally... "Oh thank god...Robin, you droll on, and on, and on... Please, stop."

And finally, use your real name. Try it. This hiding crap is for weak minds and weak people.
***

Anonymous

Hiding in the shadows, black.
Black to surround black and block the light
Screen up, glowing, black, black with tiny dots
of dark light.

Typing the words and in reply, hiding really
what's inside.

Afraid to feel what needs to be felt
To smile
To cry
To try
To be real.

And why?

Why hide in the dark like some dark child,
afraid?

Let it be know now and forever, I, Robin B. Lipinski has no fear from anything of this world
nor
will I ever hide in the dark,
well...
except maybe,
holding a half gallon of ice cream in one hand, apple pie in the other,
chugging on A&W rootbeer,
writing something about monkeys
in the dark
away from peering minds and ears.

[Lipinski]

Inspired by what happened today. A good day as I worked for a good man. A fellow traveler if you will.
***

Pandora's Key

Softly treading with soles gliding over and above
Seeking beneath starry sky, such
and with
thought.

So much so
this
and that
where
a man seeks to bend
a knee.

She smiled too, in her ways
so many
so many names
faces
colors
a world encased.

Locked and secure
only
there is the key,
a key, one of many that opens many things.

Skulls moved
Locks released
my how good it is for a sleeping dragon
to see.

In the distance, secure, on guard, a dog lays too
asleep
where inside this box, what's to be...

Smile children, smile and keep smiling no matter how hard the world freezes
no matter how hot the heat,
It is good to see the children
play.

[Lipinski]

Toads.

Don't know about most people but for me certain times and certain words are truly entertaining. For example: Today I'm fixated on the word, toad.

Toad sounds close to rode, bold, mold, sold, cold, load, mode. And like all those words, each is so very different yet sound so similar. Comforting in a way.

Writing with words almost feels like listening to music. Guess that's a part of why some people enjoy writing.

This summer has been a good toad year for where I live. I've got them all over the place and we live in a desert environment. They are amazing little creatures. Just read that each of them can eat up to 10,000 insects in a year.

They love the water I put on the bushes and trees (exercise in futility when the daily temps get over 100) and they really love being under my swamp cooler. The machine cycles the water every 8 hours of use and pours out the bottom. The other day while tuning the cooler I had to be careful of not stepping on the little leapers.

And for the past few nights, one toad in particular sits in the same spot on the concrete, thinking. And there is my inspiration for today's release.
***
Thoughts of a Toad

Pudgy little blob; hopping, jumping, crawling
Flick of a tongue and another bug gone.

Evading the snake only to be nudged softly by the nose of a dog
Evading the heat of the daily sun, nestled down in some nearby mud.

In the day there is nothing to be seen other than grasshoppers, yellowjackets, beetles, and flies
this is the time the toads sleep and dream.

In the night, when the stars are shining and the world takes its turn at sleep
this is the time the toad play and think.

One toad takes the time to sit facing South, sitting so still and majestic
In the open for me to see
Amazing.

Thoughts of travel and sky, visions of when toads too, will have space
Thoughts of mathematics on a spiritual plain
Of love, of hate
and then, a fat cricket calls nearby, signaling it is time for the toad to think
it is time to eat.

[Lester Curtis]

Toads have some of the prettiest eyes, all copper-flake. Not much of beauty to 'em otherwise, and of course they've got to pee on you when you pick 'em up.

They hibernate, too. I remember once hanging around my dad while he was digging a hole in the yard one spring. He turned over a shovelful of dirt and said, "Look, there's a toad." He picked it up out of the hole and I asked if it was dead--it sure *looked* dead. He said, no, they sleep in the ground all winter. He set it aside and told me it would wake up soon in the sunlight, so I watched. Like a fuckin' miracle, the damn thing went from uniform dead-charcoal gray to a normal toad paint job, and eventually moved off. I'm just mystified why it dug into hard dry lawn soil instead of soft creek mud, but I guess they know what they're doing.

[Lipinski]

I would have loved to see the first time my male corgi tried to eat one because it must have been a doozy of an experience. Now, when he see's one, he just tip toes up to it, puts his nose close and pulls back. Every other creature, especially pack rats, mice, birds, and rabbits; devour is instant.

Read more about them and saw they can live a long time. Can't blame them though as what other creature other than a snake would want to even think of eating them.

Bet your cat would just yawn and say (in cat language) "(lick, lick, purr) Boring. Sigh, so boring. Ugly and boring. Wonder if the old guy is gonna put some good food in my bowl this time or that crap he buys on sale. Maybe tonight when he's asleep I'll crawl on top of him as suck out his soul..."

Anyway, for as ugly as they are, I like em and last night the same one in the same spot. Fun.
***

People

Herded by instinct, wearing fashions of the day
slipping colors a makeup and manners
into the fray.

Hustling, bustling, moving, yearning, striving, trying
to be.

Religions rise based on one thing only, to justify the reasons
trying to explain
when even there, in front of the face, in the mirror,
the answer is seen.

Answers and knowledge
Knowledge and reasons
Reasons and questions
Back again to answers when questions remain.

Like a smoke screen gives title to humanity
People are like a pond compared to the sea
Fish in a bottle
Dust to a star
Likened and liked and linked
until
the individual stands alone, aloof, looking as the herd retreats
it is then, one can find peace or discover they are still nothing more significant
then again, who cares what a cognitive butterfly
thinks...

[Lipinski]

ack, ack... cough... ARgh! Woke up and it's so smokey outside from all the forest fires I had trouble seeing my feet.

Good thing though, makes it hard to see the North Korean nukes flying overhead. Bet the little fat man does not even knows about this state let alone how to spell it... "I rule de world! I is god! Death to America! Death to Ideo... Damn, I fine looking man!"
***

Nukes and Fire

A mountain burps
A forest burns
A man pushes a button and blows up a world.

Multiple choice?

A little fat man
A Chinese power
A Russian fly
A American trial

I choose,
cheese on rye with some bacon on the side
cuz if those are the choices
I choose fat and a smile.

[Lipinski]

Hey parasite, wake up. (kicking the lazy bastard. kicking it again, and again, and again, and starting to enjoy it)

"Hey numbnuts, what's your problem?" The parasite was not in a very good mood. It took its naps seriously and had been dreaming of dolphins. The parasite has a sick dolphin fetish.

Did you hear about Red Lobster?

"Uh, so? I mean, who gives a rolling ball of spit if a lobster is red, green, blue, pink, black or whatever kind of fucking color you choose."

I just read that Red Lobster, the national food chain, announced they are bringing back endless shrimp for a limited time...

(silence)

(more silence but now followed by stomach grumbling from one of the many stomachs the parasite has)

"No shit, really? Endless shrimp?"

Yep. FIVE choices of shrimp.
NEW! Nashville Hot Shrimp
NEW! Mediterranean Shrimp
Hand-Crafter Garlic Shrimp Scampi
Hand-Breaded Shrimp
Shrimp Linguini Alfredo

"DAnggg... So when is your fat ass going to take me?"

Take you? Ha! They'd kick you out for being disgusting.

"Yeah? Well they'll probably have you arrested for scaring all those live lobster they have in the tank with your ugliness, not to mention your fat ass."

I'm gonna work extra hard and then go bankrupt the local Red Lobster, and, just to show you that I'm not a total dick, I'm going to take you along...

(thud)

Parasite? Are you okay?

(the parasite never gets invited unless it is to a public beating of parasites so it was pretty hard on it to learn it was going to a feast)

(dialing 911)

"911, what is the nature of your emergency."

My parasite just fainted and does not have a pulse.

"Your parasite? Sir, this line is for emergencies only."

It is an emergency. The little prick might be dead.

(and I could write like this forever. writing is definitely fun. if you're not a writer and want to try, it is as easy as having Red Lobster bring to the public a very tasty treat. oh, I pity the local one after I get there)

[Lipinski]

"Cough. Wheeeeze... Gasp."

What's wrong parasite? All the heavy smoke in the air from the forest fires getting you down?" (hee hee)

"Wheeeze... No. You dick. You kicked me in my balls. So, whata you think you'd do after getting kicked in the balls? Laugh?"

Oh. Yeah. It felt good to kick you though. I thought you died yesterday after learning about all the shrimp at Red Lobster. So you should thank me for kicking you. It might have saved your pathetic life.

"Mmm. You know what? I think you're right! Thanks Robin, for kicking me in the nuts. (muttering under its breath the words 'dick' 'bastard' and many more slights of the many known languages came to bear)"
***

Today was inspirational and also one where the lungs life was greatly shortened by all this damn smoke outside. Strange. The west is on fire, and the East and South are drowning in rain. I feel sorry for those folks in Texas and soon, Florida. And I bet many will blame Trump. I know I do. Global warming. Hurricanes. Cher's face. Madonna moving. Stale bread. Lumpy breasts. Gray hair. Herpes. It all is Trumps fault... with some of it being Bushes fault, and the rest of course, the parasites.

"Ohh, I don't feel so good. Think I'll go to bed and dream of shrimp" (and kicking Robin in the nads)

Politics aside and greatly enjoying seeing the parasite fully alive again, it was an inspirational day. Today a hummingbird on its way of migration, stopped by and visited the house I'm building for Gary. It was frustrated as it could not find the open door so I softly took it as it flew and released it outside. I've done this in the past and it always makes me feel good to see the little guys fly away unharmed.
***
Wind Trap

So small in stature
So large in ambition

So tenacious in flight
So fragile.

Wings beating the air, trapped in a world of man
Windows solid for a view.

Winds brought her there
With freedom, wind took her away with grace.

[Lipinski]

(blinking cursor)

Bared feud for which gravity sinks
Brings rock and mountain to rest
Skipped stone to sink
Branch to break and twirl.

A moon pulls the strings though the core takes heart
where ground dances a dance of dust
aura keeps the twins
and down
down
down
falls chance.

Winds uplift the downtrodden
rising ambitions and soul
beneath those fallen, a whisper
and then it is
again.

Again this scenerio of mashed strings
for who is to say what is up and what is down?
What is right or wrong?
If fallen one stands again.

In the end though,
all fall
all
all
rise again.

[Lipinski]

streaming reality flowing like
not like gravity intended
not like the clouds cry
not like the best of mans intentions

streaming reality flowing like
what a brain decides
logic
science
night and day
blood flowing
heart beating
does reality then, truly decide?

streaming reality flowing indeed
where those who say, down from up
again
logic
science
night and day
blood flowing
heart beating
reality does decide

though

what if?
What if then if reality empties into the ocean of fantasy...
What if really the ocean of fantasy gives the stream of reality
Life?

Indeed then, so it is
the flow of reality does not decide
nor the mind
it is
it is truly
what is inside.

[Lipinski]

Illusions

Time: a tick-tock moving moment only, in which direction does it flow?
Life: an explosion of energy and matter combined, in which direction does it go?
Emotions: up and down and all around with time, life, and emotions combine

Painted pictures of the mind
what is real?
What is surreal?
what if both combine?

"Eat these strained peas baby. They are good for you. See? Yum!"
"Trust me. Vote for me. I'll bring lower taxes and change!"
"I hate you!"
"I love you!"

So, what really is. What brings the illusion of fantasy and real to life?
Cheese...
Hot dogs...
Potato chips...
Dip...
Lobster...
Clams...
any and all foods. (with the exception of being a baby and having to eat, strained peas...)

The rest is just make believe.

[Lipinski]

Corrugated conglomeration with whispers of
inspiration
instilled
installed
instantly
aroused.

Engorged enticement with enrichment
inside
immediate
intimidation
leading to
meditation.

Hot headed heading towards
direction
erection
walled platitudes giving birth full circle,
perspiration,
to more,
inspiration.

[Lipinski]

The invitation was accepted. The home was familiar as it was meant to be, but changed with many additions. The ch8ldren were polite and aloof. He was no stranger. She was set aside.

Walking in caverns tuned to comfort. Outside the steps lead to a singing bush, underneath he asked me to throw the snake as far as possible. A smile and 'no'. He threw and there was no harm, the music became louder.

Such raging water in clear sky. Rolling logs and disappearing trail. A wait. A man on top of a beam. It was he as he tried to explain. Falling to the ground and getting back on top again, trying until he knew I knew more than should be explained.

Locking his room from prying eyes already seen. Water seeping from the rock, clean.

Just an0ther dream..

[Lipinski]

Comedy of Life

Verily spoken, no.
Not in words such asunder with fullness so ripe the very branches weep from weighted
wit...

Such the jester. In court judged askew and taken
Taken by such where marked painted with frown upon smile
this bulbous sound hollowed from deep this narrow pit
of scorn.

Tears of laughter or laughter of pain for which
neither
seem different
so much
the same.

Harken though given such an answer not
words plucked from a literal vine
and given with heart
taken
squandered
passed the round table until the legs bend.

This vine passed to spiral while passed by shadow, reaching grand heights
and there...
see?
There, there over the ever horizon, past the far until nearly out of mind
a heart beats.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
Vibrations of scripted destiny
one full, so much full,
this life of laughter and pain.