Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

[Lipinski]

Killer Of the Mind


Inside a cranium shield, sugar fed, water contained, a brain of sorts

Telling us when to sleep, when to rise, when to go

Born into a world, alive, to grow and think, such is the mind giving us pause to blink.


Why?
Happy or sad, euphoria or pain, hunger or full, smart or stupid...
Why and who decides so?

All the thoughts we all have inside

All the rules, the science, the foibles, the strength...
Blood is red in all, even though through depletion of oxygen appears green
Bone is white
Finger nails, hair, feet, knees, ears...

What destroys the mind is not obvious just as it can be material or surreal
The mind cannot be destroyed unless the mind
decides.
*

"Robin, this is another one of your fucked up attempts at poetry? Sounds like a first grade science student studying to be a writer"

No, the jokes on you parasite. I stole this one out of your diary.

"What! I have a diary? I know I have diarrhea... Oh, yeah, I remember. You're talking about what I write on the wall of your bathroom."

Exactly parasite. Actually some pretty good examples of writing can be found on the stall wall of bathrooms

[Lipinski]

Writing to fit the ideals and beliefs of a writer is how most writers adhere. Conservatives with their values, liberals with theirs. Religious, non-religious, sexual, non-sexual... Interesting how writers follow, allow, and hollow out a cave where they unleash the words to fit the beliefs/thoughts.

Could you imagine a radical follower of puritan belief writing a sexual story of bondage or a Hillary fanatic writing a children's story themed with Trump positive attributes?

It probably can be stated with great accuracy that in this current world, it is a free-for- all condition. That applies to writers along with readers. So, so much to choose from. And with the expansion of the computer and technology, a person in America does not even have to go outside and mingle with the herd. They can sit inside, work inside, even have Amazon bring them clothing, food, and whatever it is they need.

An interesting part of the experiment and a nice twist in both social and physical evolution.

I enjoy reading the daily snippets of news presented by others holding vastly different opinions and views. One writer will say the tragedy of 9-11 was the fault of the Easter bunny while others state with certainty the the U.S. government 'did' it. So many stories within stories.

If you're a writer with strong beliefs (in whatever and however, and you do) try writing about something you can't stand, in a positive way. Or vice-versa, write something bad about something you love.

An example

*

Meat

Gagging smell of bacon frying in the pan, grease reeking as it slides and sizzles
Belly flesh from such an intelligent animal
Pigs grunting and trying to live.

Steaks stealing sanity, black angus beef, so many animals ruining a planet
stealing so much water, soil, and land
where vegetables can grow and we can eat.

Fish in the sea netted, gutted, filleted, wrapped, frozen, delivered
really
a waste.

Tofu and plantains
Carrots and oranges
Beets and peas.

Too bad humans are built of meat,
much better if they were woody wearing nothing but leaves.

[Lester Curtis]

Hey. Sorry I've been behind on responses.

I've never heard anything about helicopters being theoretically incapable of flight. They're just using a rotating wing instead of a fixed one, and the principle of aerodynamic lift still applies. Probably inspired by maple seeds. Leonardo Da Vinci tried to invent one, but his didn't use the wing principle.

That bumblebee story is widely known, and whoever refuted their capability was using the wrong fluid dynamics. Insects don't use their wings to create lift directly; they create a pattern of turbulence which secondarily generates lift.

And speaking of insect wings, have you ever examined a dragonfly wing under high magnification? They're fucking HOLLOW, and have microscopic rear-facing barbs on them. I found a dead dragonfly on my doorstep years ago ... I had a crappy 30-X hand lens ... I got curious. When I found the barbs, I looked up some bug specialist and asked what they were for, and he didn't know.

Anyhow, glad you had the sense to not get helicoptered off the roof, and that your shoe soles didn't melt (you'd have mentioned that, I'm sure).

You want more of "Leeta the talking dog" ... wait 'till I tell him that; next time he sees you he's gonna hump your leg. Then he'll hump both your Corgis, and then he'll hump your other leg too. But seriously, I can't remember what chapters I've sent you. Tell me the one you got most recently and I'll try to figure out what's left.

Cheers.

[Lipinski]

Damn Lester, I have not had such a spontaneous laugh like the one I just had, in a looong time. As I've mentioned earlier, very visually orientated and so I instantly pictured Leeta humping my leg... Damn, that was a picture indeed. And in the background was a space ship and a government planetary immigrant inspector writing me a fine for having relations with the aliens. And then the corgi's popped into the picture, and then it became an orgy and then after the corgi's Leeta entered a monastery drinking only water and eating ants, and no more humping. (corgi's can have weird effects on people (and fuzzy dogs)

I read somewhere about the weight ratio to flight for helicopters and some science folks saying it all should not work. (just like my jumping off a wall holding an umbrella thinking the landing would be soft...)

Interesting about the dragonfly wings. The barbs could be for helping hold onto a plant or sexual partner. Anyway, interesting insect and one I greatly enjoy watching. Lately been having fun with little preying mantis. And actually saw a racer snake up off the ground about two feet in a large rose bush hunting the hunters. Snake saw me and dropped like a rock and 'raced' off. (they can really scoot)

Today, while finishing up on top of the roof I actually thought my shoes would melt. It was 101 on the ground but the dark green metal was definitely hot enough to cook just about anything. Thank goodness my $19 Chinese tennis shoes from Costco allowed all the heat in so my feet could sweat profusely and put out the flames.

I read chapter 10 last. You sent it at the end of last October.

Thanks for looking in, and the inspiration.
*

Barbs

Pointed sharp with curve or straight, meant to hook and hold
A hook entering flesh so easy, making hard the release
Holding in the pain.

Words meant to hurt or maim
Words to hook and hold
Words with small intents able, to hang the larger things.

Tools are to be used, to bring relief
Nature agrees
Barbed feet and wings, able to walk on glass or steel, rock or stem, or anything.

Up-side-down
Vertical
Under water
Above the air on wing.

[Lester Curtis]

Wow, October ... that means you've never gotten the new Chapter Two that I shoehorned in, throwing all the subsequent chapter numbers off by one. It sets up a hint to expect something not quite plumb and level about Dr. Hubert Kobler.

I'm just going to send you all new stuff from the beginning up to Ch 14 (I'm working on Ch 15 now). Watch your email. Most of it's the same as before, so you can just skim a lot of it.

Corgi orgy ...? So that's not just a close coincidence in spelling, hm?

I don't think those barbs on the dragonfly wings are big enough to be useful in gripping anything. I have a notion they have some fluid dynamic function, conditioning airflow or something, but that's just a guess. Thinking about them makes me want to get out on the water again, though; the place I paddle has lots of those damselflies with the beautiful iridescent blue and green bodies. They're fearless; I've had them land on my boat quite a few times, and sometimes on me.

Mantids are really cool. I like the way they turn their heads and look at you over their shoulder. I caught one and brought it in the house once when I was a kid and my mom gave me a little piece of raw hamburger to feed it. It ate the stuff up, too. Did you ever notice that the insides of their mouths are pink?

Don't overheat or fall off roofs.

C

[Lipinski]

I really liked chapter two Lester. Especially about how Leeta went on spring break in Daytona beach with two beagles and an alien named Freemook. How did you make Leeta's fur remain so shiny after some college students poured vodka on him and lit him on fire?

Seriously though, enjoyable. Has anyone told you that you should be a writer? My sister told me I should buy pink septic trucks and pump sewage tanks...guess that's similar to being a writer.

Finished the roof with the exception of three panels short on the trim. Soooo glad I don't have to walk on that stove top again.

If I had to be forced to go to a 'school' of higher learning (thus subjecting myself to the bias of power hungry teachers) it would be to learn more in the field of biology. Life is so very interesting. Plant. Animal. Insect.

Insects alone are a fascinating topic. Dung beetles. Spiders. Termites. Grasshoppers. And how about the fish that squirts water and shoots down insects? Cool or what. Nature is so cool, the nature of mankind...? Gives me a fucking headache as I know waaaaay too much about that area of science.
*
The Nature of the Beast

Canines to slice and tear
flesh from the mastadon, from beasts of limb , of wing , of swimming tail.

Fire to burn and crisp
To war and beat the drum.

Deep within the blood flows hot,
Wanton desires to rip passions of anger and lust.

Destroy.
Death...

Eons pass with birth
Into a world where it is eat and die.

This planet
This Earth
Deceiving beauty from afar
Teeming with trillions of forms
of living death.

[Lester Curtis]

You can get online classes in almost everything, and most are free (though some try to trick you into signing up for a paid option). I've been doing this for years, and I love it; never spent a cent of money yet. Here:

https://www.class-central.com/

and, here, I saved you a couple clicks ...

https://www.class-central.com/subject/biology

One of my most recent ones was on dog cognition. Great fun. Turns out dogs are incredibly stupid in certain ways and at least as smart as us in others. Also, it's strongly suggested that both dogs and humans have domesticated *themselves* (I think they did a better job of it), while cats have never gotten more than partly domesticated.

I've also enjoyed astrobiology, anthropology, what plants know (pretty surprising) and I forget how much else.

Dig in. Have fun.

[Lipinski]

Thanks Lester, those links (especially the biology) were great. This is an example of one aspect of progress the internet has unleashed. Can you imagine having such options back in 1980?

My plants under my care know how to scream when they want water. Of course, 100 degree temps make plants very needy and cranky.

Now as for dog cognition...my dogs are able to read my mind and it usually involves food. (For them/me) And in the food department it involves ice cream, potato chips, dip, and smoked eel (which leads to an endless list of gourmet food).

Thanks for the link and inspiration.
***

Dog Thoughts

Woof

Woof woof woof

Owwhoo!

(translated)

Me lick private parts
sniff dog butt
Contemplate planetary orbital dynamics as the pulsing nova remnants intermingle at a high frequency.

[Lipinski]

Bending Light

So fast before the thought
Bright brilliant balance
white.

Leaves, leaves tremble, leaving the eye to process
So fast before and after
white.

Black and white where blackness becomes the negative
leaving white to second guess
Why?

Why not
white and black
black and black
white and white

Blowing the bark, before the thought before the sounds before, bark
In the distance the bay of howling towards white lost among the black
Below.

Below before being.

Jagged broken vibrations leading so much energy down the path
and up
sprites

A butterfly wing bends the mind, bends the light, being until
the wind decides the flight neither white nor black or in between...

[Lipinski]

London Bridge is Falling Down...

Either a pending terrorist attack on, "God save the Queen," or a children's song.

Learned that in the good ol days back in Europe, the older folks would entomb some of the younger folk (probably the ones that were trouble makers or cried a lot) into various buildings, even bridges. It as thought that it would ensure long life of the structure. Now, that is what we need in the inner city schools these days... "All righty then, you. You there boy. Yes, you. Come with me."

"Say what? I ain't going with you. You one crazy white guy."

"And you're one crazy white delinquent."

"Ah... fuck you man. I ain't going nowhere with you..."

WHACK! (and a couple of more whacks for good measure)

The unconscious lad was dragged unceremoniously towards some new construction on the Burndale High School, home of the howling wildcat football team.

"Here we go folks. A lively one here and one perfect for the wall."

After some murmuring of approval the unconscious boy was propped up inside a partially finished brick wall. After a few hours the last brick was mortared into place, forever entombing Tommy, the class clown with attitude.

When Tommy regained consciousness he screamed, "Help! Help me!" While trying to claw his way through the already hard brick wall. As he sat there whimpering he heard the muffled sound of adults, both construction workers and teachers singing, "London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. London bridge is falling down...Myyyy fair lady!"
***

"Damn Robin that's fucked up. I like it!"

Thanks parasite, I knew you would.

[Lester Curtis]

So, we should be expecting to regularly find juvenile remains within old civil-engineering projects?

I'm sure a lot of people have felt like doing this, and maybe a few of them did it, but--shouldn't they have included a note as to why that corpse was put there?

"SACRIFICED FOR THE PUBLIC GOOD, ONE INCORRIGIBLE BASTARD."

or, maybe ...

"SERIAL VICIOUS BULLY; PARENTS' LAWYERS KEPT GETTING HIM LOOSE."

or,

"CAUGHT TORTURING AND MUTILATING LIVESTOCK FOR FUN. WAS SEEN EYEING OUR CHILDREN."

Maybe their parents bodies could be found alongside, with identifying tags.

And why is it always the males? Don't the Mean Girls deserve to be made an example of, too?

[Lester Curtis]

See what you can make of this.

"DARLENE, DARLENE,
THE MEAN GIRLS' QUEEN
NOW THE MASONRY
SHE'S BETWEEN."

[Lipinski]

This is a link that may be of interest/inspiration for readers/ writers. It inspired me yesterday. http://www.cracked.com/article_20032_5- ... songs.html

I actually think immurement is a wonderful idea. I'm currently thinking of a person I'd dearly love to... but, no, that would be wrong. But. No. Ah, heck. Maybe I'd enjoy being boxed up in a nice, quiet, peaceful, dark, space for eternity. Actually, sounds kinda nice. Wonder if they need any volunteers in Europe?

"DARLENE, DARLENE,
THE MEAN GIRLS' QUEEN
NOW THE MASONRY
SHE'S BETWEEN."

Mmm... let me think (Red alert, Robin is thinking. Get the children to safety. Alert the National Guard. Run for your lives!) Okay. The word 'Darlene' obviously is feminine in nature but in this day and age... Darlene could also be used to double-stand for darling.

At first read I find it to mean that Darlene is the Queen of bitches and while trying to maintain her status as the alpha female was challenged or overpowered by another of stronger means and the remains of Darlene are much like Jimmy Hoffa; buried and sealed in a concrete drum.

Or,

D - Daring... Arial.. Lenetor (lene: smooth breathing tor: third declension)

English (the) Mean: of resource Queen: Tranglish

Now (so this is past tense as mortar has set before the water and after)

She is _ : _ existence is a mutual decision of the moment as 'between' denotes the line separating life and death.

Or,

Lyrics for a new song by Snoop Dog singing in code where Trump is coded with subject, Darlene. And taken out by Rosie O'Donell Queen of the ding bats.

Or,

a nice way of writing and inspiring the imagination.
***

Castrate the boys in the Vienna Choir
Sing boy sing,
Sing to Heavens angels
Sing in octaves so high
Sing with regret you didn't run as fast as your best friend, Bob.

Bobs wenching in taverns, having fun, getting drunk
Boys castrated in the Choir
Sing until their done
Bob raises his glass of rum, thinking gladly, he was not one.

[Lipinski]

http://www.foxnews.com/tech/2017/07/25/ ... ocket.html

Now this was an inspirational article. It seems modern and good but I compare it at the same level as if a caveman had a newspaper: Headline.
(grunting) Oog oog oog. Zoog oog oog zoog. Ar ar rrrrr. Ar. Oog.

Transalated: Today, discover hot stuff. Me call it, fire.

Reading about this NASA rocket shows just how fucking primitive this species really is. Heavy. Cumbersome. Three -dimensional. Linear thinking. And pointless.

Ooh, oog oog... Me so happy, rocket go 'BOOM!' and we fly to Mars. Get there in many, many, oog oog oog, days...

Come on humans, you can do better than that. Oh, wait, you will do better than that. Just imagine a 'gift' given. With supposedly 'good' (notice the similarity between good and oog?) intentions...

Nothing comes free, and the speed/means to travel the stars at will means something. Mmm...I wonder what that could be...

"I know what you could be Robin."

Yes parasite?

"You could be a male stripper in Ethiopia, those skinny folks there have never seen such a fat white guy in their entire lives."

Could I shimmy and shake? You know, show them how the skin quivers like jello?

"Oh, by all means, yes. Yes, and then you could survive on all the fruit they throw at you in disgust as they storm out and demand a refund."

[Lipinski]

A nice man had my back today. It felt good to have the support of such a man. He is 82 years old with the mind/soul of one much younger. The rest of the people today would make good fill for potholes, or is that illegal?

***
Potholes

Frost heaves, a gift given between Summer and Winter
Little holes to grow into miniature puddles
and then
into lakes.

People show, a gift given between love and hate
Little humans to grow into mature minds
and then
into good and evil.

Holes in the highway bring caution and slowing of speed
Dealing with people bring anger or relief
Holes are filled with gravel to seal
People are filled with mush.

I'd rather swerve around holes in the highway, avoiding people, and arriving at a peaceful destination,
complete
healthy
and safe.

[Lipinski]

SEX! That good ol' rub a dub dub. Friction if you will. Friction starts fires to survive winter weather. Friction by brake pads grip the rotor on the wheel and stop the car. But nothing beats friction for the good ol human race than the friction of applied force on the genitals of males and females. Ooh la la.

"Now you're writing about stuff I like Robin. Don't forget to mention dolphins. I loooove having 'friction' with those dolphins. Especially the ones of the beaches of Florida..."

No parasite, that's sick. Friction with a cow or maybe a sheep is fine. Dolphins aka 'fish' is just downright sick.

"No. No it ain't. Besides, don't knock it unless you tried it."

I don't have to try slicing my legs off with a chainsaw to see if it hurts, I KNOW it hurts just as I know dolphin sex is and should be between dolphins...well, maybe dolphins and sea turtles.

"Yeah, now you're talking."

***

Sex. Yep, it is on the minds of almost every human alive (and probably dead). It is what keeps the bio machine line going. And speaking of sex, how come Fox news is printing a new story everyday about some female teacher boinking their male students? Why not stories about male teachers boinking female students, or male teachers and male students, or female teachers and female students? Why just, "28 year old female teacher boinks her male 17 year old student..."

And, what I really want to know, is, where were those teachers when I was in school all of those 500 years ago?

Sex is probably one of the most inspirational muses a writer has. Many a pulp soft cover book is sold containing, "He thrust his massive..." or "Gasping for air, her hands grasped the soft sheets soaked in sweat..."

All the old dead guys such as that dink Shakespeare, wrote about sex using fancy words. Today, the fancy words and induendos have been replaced by the good ol trusty word: Fuck. Fuck this, fuck that. And also all the other well used words writers and comedians love to use.

I personally like to write about sex in a way that the reader 'thinks' it is about sex but actually...
***

He was alone in his room. His parents competing in their bedroom to see who could snore the loudest.
As he lay there, he thought about Lucy, that redhead girl in his algebra class who sat in front of him.
Reaching down he rubbed his muscle as he thought about her.

Pausing briefly, as there was some growing pain, he reached for some lotion on his small table next to the bed. Squirting some of the sweet smelling lotion on his right hand, he reached down and rubbed his muscle again. This time, the pain started to subside.

It had been a hard day at soccer practice and his right thigh muscle was extremely sore. The lotion he rubbed on it contained ingredients that felt icy cold and caused the knot in his thigh to loosen.

As it loosened, another muscle grew tight as he thought about Lucy...

***
So fucking obvious but it is interesting how the mind quickly can find sex in anything. Just look at the parasite and his fetish with dolphins. And get this. If anyone actually reads this shit I write and about how the parasite loves dolphins... I bet when you actually think of real dolphins now you will think about the parasite doing the nasty. Or, if normal, you just shake your head and go bake cookies.

[Lipinski]

something to be said about a nice 'splash and dash' thunderstorm. Currently the sky has a huge rainbow. It is... nice.

Inspiration from the weather, sounds calm and it is... nice.
***

Nice

Nice to know
of the smell of wet dry grass after a storm
the memory flashing of lightning
and the wind.

Arching across the skyline the bow of colors bend
Beneath the river flowing while the clouds trail in the sky
and the tiredness lifts the lid
of eye.

Today came the calming storm, a friend indeed
Tomorrow comes the dawn
again I say with a smile,
a nice day
a good day
to live.

[Lipinski]

Silly. Now there is a word you don't read very often. It is a nice word, and actually, a good thing to experience once in a while. Today, I was silly. Must say, it felt good!

Some will say, "Act like an adult," or "Put away childish things..." I say, why? Why act like a stick is jammed up your ass from morning till dark? Especially in this world at this moment. Yikes! Everybody hostile, angry, and that's just those who are considered, 'normal'. I've never been normal and never, ever, will. So, today for me, it was inspirational to be silly.

Being silly has many ranges of silliness. It ranges from being a drooling idiot all the way to intellectual dry wit much like Einstein was want to do.

As a writer, sometimes I think it is good to write silly stuff while being silly.
*

Soaking skin to dry the tears of a hard week
Seeing above the wings of relief
Feeling the hum of a dragons feet
Smelling the breeze of fresh cow shit
Hearing the songs of the sky


Talking with a forest gnome, blue eyed and stoned
Pinching a babies cheek while only she and I knew as the mother was not ready
Lazy lines filled the blue, deep and warm the spring reached

It was a good day indeed
to be free, the fool, feeling silly
almost like drinking whiskey.

[Lipinski]

Inspiration comes in many forms. Love. Hate. Daily experiences. Life. Death. Today, what stuck with me the most was the talk of how someone shot at a very large badger, in apparent fun. They hit the badger in the jaw and the animal escaped. This is considered 'fun' by many people. Hard to believe people find joy in killing something, anything. Not for for defense or food. Not for monetary gain. Not for any real reason other than the joy of killing...

Humans have so much potential and yet are such savage creatures. At least, in my opinion.

So, today's writing inspiration is dedicated to a badger either now dead from the wound, or soon will be.
***

No Reason

Bang!
Who cares when the sound hits the ear?
A target of apprehension, brought about by choice or maybe,
a dare.

Sun high in the sky to render a view for all
The deer, the birds, the insects, all creatures awake
making the daily travel of life
from here to there.

Powerful little fella, able to dig a hole faster than a dog with bone
Short, stocky, swift
with coarse fur and blunt pointed nose
a badger.

In the morning, alive and seeking a new home
In the afternoon, alive, bleeding, and wandering in pain
In the evening, under a growing moon with stars shining down
to succumb to stupidity of mankind busy living their lives
another creature silently dies alone, without thought or cry
leaving such creatures as I
to wonder
why?

[Lipinski]

I admire poets when dealing with writer/writing. The reason is I feel it is real. It is the true expression of the person. The one the betters a poet is a songwriter as they not only write poetry they put it to music.

Some songs are better than others. "Kill whitey, beyaaatch..." Nope, not even poetry, but some songs are pure poetry.

I can't write songs. They would be worse than the normal shit I write, BUT, inspired by my dog getting sprayed by a skunk yesterday for the first time. That and the 100 degree temps along with a forest fire burning in the distance. So, lets see what kind of country hick song can come out...
***

She was burning the bushes with the fire, a burning the bushes up.
Chasing the skunks a runnin, and I a runnin fer me pickup truck.

Sweatin n a runnin, a runnin fer me pickup truck.
Got me a geetar, a stinking dog, with flames chasing...

Fire balls, fire balls, fire baaaaallss...
Me n the stinky dog a runnin, fer the pickup truck.

Got passed by the coyotes n deer, the cougar n bear
now being chased by a pack of them skunks.

Fire balls, fire balls, fire baaaaallss..
Me n the stinky dog a runnin, fer the pickup truck.

My wife a left me fer a cowboy, leavin me with a stinky dog, a pack of skunks, me geetar, n shit...
Fire done did burn up me pickup truck.
***

Yeeha! I likes my pickup truck...But, anyone want a male corgi, slightly used, eats machinery, and smells like skunk?

[Lipinski]

Damn. Almost got run off the road by a crazed driver from Montana. Tried passing me in a 'no passing zone' and oncoming traffic. People are crazy and crazy people are dangerous...wait a second, I'm crazy... Never mind. Crazy people are wonderful, nice, and make for good drivers. Almost got to test the engineering aspects of galvanized metal railings though.

It is so hot outside today...

"How hot is it dickhead?"

It is so hot that it beats the pain of when I douse you in gasoline and light you on fire parasite.

"Cool!"

Speaking of cool, why did you use up all the ice cubes in the fridge and turn off the maker?

"Seriously? I did that to piss you off... Hey. No. Just kidding. Ah shit man, gasoline?" (gurgle gurgle gush... click, click, BOOM"

"Ahhhh!! Robin. YOur'Re a pain in the..."

Want more there parasite?

"Nah. And here, take some of my ice cubes you big crybaby."

***

Fire

Pent up emotions released on the highways, the byways, the pathways
of life.

Burning rays of sun make trousers think of shorts
making skin think of shade
helping the mind boil and change.

Fuel to bring situations to bring flame
Passions of the heart turned to ash
Ash blowing in the wind
to scatter.

Wind seemingly cool as it carries the heat
Cactus so prickly and green, thriving on nothing
Flowers wilted, so needy and whining for wet
People...

People, hot blooded and angry, cranky women and men...
and then
the children smile.

Fire hydrant opened, they giggle and play
Swimming in a river, ocean, lake, pool
Smiling, being children, waiting to grow up into people
where they can choose to be assholes and cruel
Waiting for the hotter moments when it is their time
to rule.

[Lipinski]

Just for fun I Googled 'Hitler poetry' as I wondered if a mass murder like him ever wrote poetry. The first one I found is this one:

The Mother

“When your mother has grown older,
When her dear, faithful eyes
no longer see life as they once did,
When her feet, grown tired,
No longer want to carry her as she walks –

Then lend her your arm in support,
Escort her with happy pleasure.
The hour will come when, weeping, you
Must accompany her on her final walk.

And if she asks you something,
Then give her an answer.
And if she asks again, then speak!
And if she asks yet again, respond to her,
Not impatiently, but with gentle calm.

And if she cannot understand you properly
Explain all to her happily.
The hour will come, the bitter hour,
When her mouth asks for nothing more.”
***

It was written in 1923 by the killer of millions. Thing is, I think the poem is great. Now, why didn't he stick with painting and writing poetry instead of killing all those people?

Poems. Poetry. In my opinion the best that can be written by a person. Read some poetry tonight from one of my favorite poets (not Hitler) and it was refreshing.

[Lipinski]

If you're one of those writers/readers easily amused by watching people park cars or watch water dripping from a leaky faucet then tonight's drivel is perfect for you.

Today I thought of words, specifically how words change with time.

For an exercise, go check out some really old books from a library or borrow one from some old people. By old, I'm talking about stuff written in the 1800's. The first thing you'll notice is how rich the English language was back 'then'. A children's book used more complicated words than college students getting an English major will be exposed too. The next thing you'll notice is the vernacular and use of various words.

Now, I'm writing about this tonight because the man I worked with today said, "Oh boy..." Which then led me to think of the phrase, "Ah man..." Male terminology. Got to thinking about women and only could come up with the phrase some darker skinned women say, that being, "Girl...Don't you be gettin into my business..."

Strange. Boy, man but not woman or girl. And then the phrase, "Jesus H. Christ..." What does the H stand for?

Awesome. Cool. Fantastic. Rad. Gucci... What will be the phrase words of the future? Speaking of future, read today the phrase, "Killing time..." Interesting combination. Meaning of course, how to pass the time, but taken literally, to kill time...

Thus the lightbulb of inspiration arose.
***

Killing Time

Birth of a new life taken to start a new year
Swaddled in and growing
Cells multiplying to show.

Muscles bulging
Hair glowing
Gaining weight and height.

Learning
Growing
Showing

Aging to match the times
Over the peak and falling
Loss of gain
Gaining time.

Passing now faster and faster, a blur of numbers to mark the birthdays, the years
Gray and wrinkled
Bones brittle
Cane, walker, wheel chair, bed...

Death comes as quickly as it all started
One again
the Grim reaper
wins.

***

On a personal note: To kill time I find watching people parking cars or watching the leaky faucet drip water to be a most wonderful way to pass the time. Maybe one day I'll expand to watching rocks dissolve with the passing rainshowers.

[Lester Curtis]

Ah, yes, the good old days, when the words 'queer' and 'gay' not only had their own separate meanings, but neither one meant what it does today!

[Lipinski]

Yea, words do take on new meanings. Just thought of the word, jolly. Aside from hearing the word associated with Santa, you never hear a teenager say, "Hey frank, are you in a jolly mood today?" Or, "Jolly good day," well, maybe the Brits still say it.

It must be hard for one speaking a foreign language to learn English. I'm still trying to learn.

I remember when people used to say, "They queered the deal."
***

Smoke

Filled sky to anger the sun until red in the face
lingers the ash of air deceived
clogging the senses
starving the clean.

Fire after fire and after again
Which way is safe for the wind to flow if not for burning forest and plain?

People so angry in their masses, red faced and smoking flame
Burning embers retained until not even the cooling of emotions remain.

Then,
and only then,
after the moments of freezing where cold reigns
ice cold
dipping until the thermometer shows nothing
except
chattering teeth with air so clean,
once again can a body breathe.

[Lipinski]

Yesterday I had to kill a rattlesnake because he broke the rules and attacked me, even gave him a second chance but he wanted to die. Today, another, a female was obeying the rules but I had to kill it because she wanted it dead. Interesting. I suppose there is inspiration in there somewhere.
***

Territory

What is mine is really not
Not in the way it is
So, what is, this is.

This is what happens when alive, awake, able, me
Walking a path of sorts, wandering through the terrain
biting dangers and sweet tastes.

Spinning wheels, baring fangs, beating heart
life
and
death.
[
]
[
this is, what it is.

[Lipinski]

this experiment of countries, time, people, is amazing. used to be there were large populations following a government, dynasty, religion, all with many common denominators such as language, diet, beliefs. Today, such a variety of choices in all arena's. And with everyone choosing their own flavors as an individual; see how the self blends with the many.

America. So polarized but no more so than any of the other 'civilized' countries. Strange to believe that some of the only unifying things for this country would be if it ran out of air to breathe or food. I believe that unless it physically impacted the citizens with pending death. It will be interesting to see what morphs out of the good ol U.S. of A. once an action/activity gravely impacts the country. By impact I mean asteroid, volcano, disease, war. Something that really thins out the herd.

Great thing about it all though, is no matter what happens, the experiment continues.
***

Test Tube

Mix in a little of this, a little of that, and then
bubbles
heat
cold
vapor
all held in, with a clear glass and covered with a stopper.

What stops what happens?
Say, the tube goes, BOOM!
or
cracks and shatters
or turns black to hide the sinister inside...

And then, after a passing of time, once the reaction is over
looking inside an empty shell
like eyes of the dead human skull
what would be remembered?

[Lipinski]

HA! Good one. Got told today that I'm either a professor or nihilist. Hell no, I'd get burned at the stake if I was a prof. (gag) and definitely am not a... wait a minute, I am a nihilist and a misanthrope and a dickhead, a liar, a, a, a...

Seriously though, I'm very handsome, love all people, run 36 miles a day, eat healthy, write masterpieces, solving world peace...

"Robin?"

Yes parasite?

"On the other link I said you're retarded, but now on this link I'm going to say, you're fucking retarded."

Thanks parasite.
***

Judgement

I pass judgement each and everyday
To look at another and say,
yes, or no.

Judging a book by it's cover
a movie by its trailer
a sunset with cloud cover, rainbows, and rain.

Color of skin being black must mean...
Color of skin being white must mean...
When really, at core, humanity, is both
kind, and mean.

Combined with good and evil
Yin
and
Yang.

I'm right, I'm wrong, I'm in between
but
that's just what it is
to be
me.

[Lipinski]

Damn it's smokey outside. The whole area where I call home (earth) is smokey. It's smokey in Canada, China, Chile, Cuba, all the 'C's'. All the A to Z's. And it will be really smokey in North Korea if little pudgy man with artillery size issues keeps up with, "I bomb Guam! I cut off Trumps balls and feed them to... um... maybe some kimche and lettuce... Mmm... maybe I eat Trump balls."

Can you believe the world would allow something like the pudgy man in Korea? And look how the world allowed Hitler. This world definitely allows a lot of crazy stuff.

I digress, or is it regress? For sure it is digest while reading about world unrest. And it is possible to become upset, but again, I digress. As I was saying, it is so smokey outside... ( I wonder what I look like in a dress)

"How smokey is it Robin?"

It is so smokey it makes me think of the North Korean dicktater cutting off Trumps private parts and eating them.

"That's better Robin, I was beginning to think you were becoming normal."

Never parasite. I'll never, ever, never, never, (well, maybe for a day or two just to shake things up) never, ever will I be 'normal'.

First, on the next writing challenge Dan puts out, lets all write and make it fun and interesting. Second, it's damn smokey. Third, I do look good in a dress, though not red ones. I'm partial to wearing blue ones.

***

Man In a Dress

Scottish kilts tilt as the bagpipes wail
Turkish soldiers
Arab thobes
Men who wear the loose fitting fabrics.

Today an era of ball-hugging jeans
So tight the crotch screams, "NO!"
With zippers needing pliers to move, and the user dare not kneel, or pay the price of splits.

Women had it made and they knew it.
Cool breeze and flow with comfort and attachments
Men they too had it made with even trousers made of canvas and as loose as a stalled sail.

Why is it men in America are looked at as sexually strange if they dare to wear loose fabric?
A long flowing dress, or one going to just below the knee?
Why do people judge comfort as crazy while trying to squeeze into daily pain?

And tell me, with a dress so comfortable why too do women want tight jeans?
Camel toe showing, maybe some pee, and tight?
They bend over and the jeans screech. ( and the men watching smile and think)

No, a dress is better and sets a body free
Free to wiggle and jiggle, to walk, run, and play,
and if you're into crime, they can be a shoplifters dream.

[Lipinski]

Music is wonderful. So much to choose from. Currently listening to Maryln Manson. Craxy but nice... It is good to let the stress of the day flow away.

I wonder how many writers write while listening to music? I hax periods where silence is best for writing and moments where a hurricane smashing windows is needed.

***

Music

He sings, "this is the new shit."
She sings, "ave Maria."
They dance and laugh, keeping rhythm.
They hax so, so, nice swing of why.

Human nature to beat, to stomp, clap, and sing
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Words and vibrations, stealing feeling away, saxing grace and sanity.

Cut deep, sounds ranging the scales of head shakes and twists
Eyes closed to open the possibilities
Can you feel it while eating a microwave meal?

Outside, a world tuned up and plugged out
Tight assed with thin smiles
Ta Ta Ta, da da da, ba ba ba , boom.

Needle on the vinyl clicking, lost in the groove
Eight tract on the antique show
Cassette spooled and schooled
Digital remixed until a stew of mush
leaving a xoice, a choice, a dial
until the heart stop in silence.