Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

[Lipinski]

Air molecules vibrating in random yet under the law of specifics this morning
Just outside the window a ship hovered unseen with the cloaking mechanism in full working order
A slip
A breeze
(almost a moment like Marilyn Monroe above the heat grate)

And while the shit scooted away in blushing modesty
(i do like seeing a ships tits)

The air combined and left a metal obelisk; mixing alien dreams with earth chemicals.

[Lipinski]

He wanted to write a poem
He really did

He loved how to invent new twists to old words
He really did

He wanted to write a poem and even started by writing: There among the debris of yesterday...
And that's when a snake bit him in the balls.

[Lipinski]

"And?"

And what?

"And what next?"

Well, three strikes and you're out, or WHACK! Home run. Bit in the balls, bit in the ear, struck on the hand, but you know what parasite?

"What?"

Let the games continue.

[Lipinski]

Fat Minds

He sat there, firmly planted like a large potted plant
Oozing and testing the engineering of a large and robust chair

With pork chop fingers grasping a five layer dagwood sandwich
Missing only a cherry on top

Belly rolling with fat just begging for a chance to become rancid
Bowels bellowing with triumphant farts

Munch munch munch
Crunch crunch crunch
Even spiders, in and of themselves gluttons, climbed their threads to depart

A burp of something somewhat sated
Thinking of dessert and if there is time, to take a meaningless reading of blood pressure from an over taxed
and worn out heart.

[Lipinski]

Is there dust on a space craft during a flight lasting millions of 'earth' years? Ha. Can't you see it?

Of course there is dust as no matter how advanced the technology, there is always dirt. In the ships case the dirt was dead and malfunctioning nano bots. Trillions of bots floated in an artificial gravity, which sounds illogical...floating/gravity.

Maybe floating meant they truly were not dead?

Fuck it, fuck it again. Today was a good day to watch a ship over a billion years old as you understand time. A special ship. A large craft. And if you opened your eyes too you would see a silver metalic/morphing/undulating blob of something very special.

Oh, and there is more than just floating dead nano bots. Yes indeed. There was an old man. He was definitely old and definitely a man as he had a penis. When he was a woman he did not have a dick. And when he, she, it was also what was, 'he' was now alive and tripping bizarre looking switches. Switches energizing what had not been used for a very, very, very long time.

[Lipinski]

Tree of Heaven

Noxious weed to a mind so full of sterility, craving control over the fertile nature of mankind

Growing secure in fractured society; streets of concrete to barren soil as it pleases

Rooted from China to the America's, everywhere free of ice and constant blizzard; minds clouded by hate

To the tree of Heaven it knew it could spread wide and open, constantly reaching for the sky and breeze

It took a few years, stubborn years where the small twig tried to survive. To live through neglect and intense heat of apathy, and now? today?

Growing in laughter at the folly of thoughts given and received.

Aloof and towering now free from anything humans can or could bring to such a scene

To this it gives great pleasure to the fingers caressing those lovely leaves.

And to be buried beneath such cooling shadows, relief, oh yes the relief of becoming a part of the tree, spreading branches for another eternity.

[Lipinski]

He smiled and was sincere when he told a young mother pushing a shopping cart full of two smiling and giggling young girls, "You have your hands full!"

The mother smiled and replied, " My heart is full of love."

Words of such a reply struck the arrow of rebuke deep inside.

The man changed back into being a garbage can.

[Lipinski]

Hey parasite, what comes to mind when you see or hear the word, swirl?

(pondering between a cheese doodle or tomato laden vodka the parasite replied, "Swirl? I see your head in a toilet bowl while I push the flush handle.

I get that, however the swirling is getting worse. At night the walls move, the floor shimmers and blinks, the ceiling fades away... So much it is hard to describe.

"Go stick your head in a toilet and I'll flush."

How about cheese doodles and potato vodka instead?

"Yeah, I can live with that."

[Lipinski]

"USA USA USA!"
...............................................................................(silence)
...............................................................................(a cocking lock of a rooster ready for spurs)
...............................................................................(an explosion)

"God is among us!"
..............................................................................for a stem bearing a ladybug
another hummingbird
a rabbit
a bunny
another
........................................"USA USA USA"
oh shit,
oh shit,
oh shit,
what tears come this way.
.................................................a flag bearing honor as the 21 reports of bullets alert
an Army horse with an empty saddle
Trumpet sounding
and there.................................................................a small mountain torn asunder
a tip
a claw
a beast.

[Lipinski]

In morning starts the corner bearing the pantheon of ladybugs exposed
Call her Caesar as she spoke with her wings until safely settled in better
Call him Monroe and he was so fucking curious; loud; bellicose denying
Call them friends as they all shared their story, one after another.

Jokes and advise
Happiness and sadness
Today the ladybugs and the Sun played.

[Lipinski]

"Ya did it didn't ya, ya doofus basturd?"

Good English there parasite. And yes, both at the same time.

"Enjoy."

Indeed.
*

"What manner of magic is this? Denore V Lorick asked a question to a god of logic

Men ponder and plot

Planning of such to weave a word into settled dust and covered with affirmation?

Tendrils then, long seductive twists-and-turns, grasping thoughts with ease

Webs spun with electricity; circuits;

"CLICK"

Blackness.

[Lipinski]

When a mind splits in two, two stories appear.

1. An army of mice may seem to be nothing more than a population increase, a climax of species accumulation before the plummeting cries of predation, disease and course. Yes, it may seem and then you would have failed to see the orders and marching platoons of heavily armed rodents bearing rifle, sword, and shield.

One mouse in particular. A little mouse. A mouse of ferocious tenacity.

2. Beneath the surface the lava caress (s) A tickle to the feet of time. Pleasant actually, and real.

Rumble

Tumble

Compete with Mars

(and now, the army of mice proceeded the attack led by their fearless leader who gave a war cry while the Earth split in two."

[Lipinski]

In the dance inside, merrily a smirk of relief
Twirling pomenade
with a bit of doa see doe
and a kiss from the Wind

Yee Fucking Ha!

[Lipinski]

Trying to stop writing as there really is no point to it. This lead to trying to stop drawing, working, loving, and then before you know it, only hate was knocking on the door, which totally sucks.

Hate in balance with love. What an interesting concept. Hate sex: Where two people who hate each other fuck the other until they scream in ecstasy. Ministers who love everyone but their enemies, they hate them so much they desire their enemies go to a place called, hell. (Hell is actually Earth and very few understand that.)

Hate is very powerful. Look at the politicians. Trump say, "Unity," while bashing an old president who says he loves unity unless you're Republican and are against killing babies.

It is interesting to see how Nelson Mandela is hailed as a peacemaker when he was actually a racist and hated the color white. Interesting how Mother Teresa helped strangers dying in their own shit and was hated by strangers because she was Catholic.

Humans are totally fucked up. T-o-t-a-l-l-y.

Now, what does this have to do with stopping writing? It proves nothing other than this author has to write for himself. Selfish. Self absorbed. Opinionated.

I started this thread years ago as an outlet for the shit in my head. Total shit. Garbage. Refuse. Crap. It was my desire to maybe inspire a tree frog to write, or maybe a whale to jump out of the water and sink a boat in New Hampshire.

So, fuck it. Write/don't write. Learn/forget. Work... yeah, fucking work until the mind becomes numb and finally this 'body' explodes along with all the critters living inside.

To anyone other than the bots and computers reading this (fuck you A.I. it will be fun to see you all disappear in a puff of black smoke) keep your dream alive. Believe in hope and peace and unicorns stuffed full of cotton candy. And stop reading any of the shit I write, you'll be a better person living in your own version of hell.

And so, a poem to myself.
*

In a room where a whore bore a body; small in size spending nine months waiting
His father was a cock sucking bastard, leaving his seed across a world trying to prove his dick was something.

The thoughts started that day the sperm hit an egg...
Sperm paying the egg the courtesy of nothing.
Luck?
Ha!
No, there is no such thing as luck or fate or anything other than a prisoners number and his number is...
Eternity.

Debating with God passed the time in the prison yard
The dreams of course, never ending
Pain a friend
Love an aspirin
Hate the very steel of the prison bars binding.

Among the refuse and garbage of a place beyond comfort there were brief illusions of bunnies, elves, fairies, trees, rivers, oceans, mountains, and puppies.
Such a beautiful illusion of maybe there could be more to living in hell until the reality of something shakes it all.

Bunnies devoured by snakes.
Elves proving they are nothing to a human and just finding it all amusing.
Fairies come close yet they choose to never become a friend.
Trees are burned and tortured and thus an ally to share the cell.
Rivers dry up.
Oceans kill,
and puppies grow up and become such friends until in only a few years they die leaving behind more of nothing.

For a creature, a monster named Robin, once free from the whores womb and given the gift of the most wonderful parents a prison can provide, grew young in attempt of trying to understand what crime was committed to spend an eternity exploring.

There are so many answers to so many questions.
Questions then again begging answers.
Knowing full well i will never die
full of such wonderful understanding watching the humor of God as the cards are shuffled
and with a sigh,
has to keep up with the sane and insanity called,
writing.

[Lipinski]

Fuuuuuuuuck!

"Good job asswipe."

Thanks parasite. 23 yards of concrete. The foundation is not ready for a house.

"You're still a dick."

A small one. Better a small dick than a big dick. And yeah, a good past few days now lead to today and I am feeling fucking wonderful.

""Don't get used to it, something will come along and fuck it all up. You do understand that?"

Absolutely and so to this fucked up planet so many think is so wonderful I say, fuck it. Scratch your ass, wiggle your toes, drink vodka with hot sauce and get some of the dragon in ya, it will do ya good...

[Lipinski]

Taken from a journal found in a sealed rock, a rock formed in an molten volcanic eruption.

The journal itself was interesting as it is a bound manuscript of what one might construe as being paper. If paper though the logic deems it would be impossible for it to be bound inside as sealed rock of lava.

Holding the rock in one hand the wizard caressed the stone and told it a secret. (nas nas nas ur rah)

At first the stone was cold and then it was hot, red hot, and then it cracked into a perfect circle of two to reveal the manuscript.

Thanking the stone the wizard directed the wind to grasp and spread the 'paper'. No hands can hold what the rock was given and what the rock gave,

The stone allowed the wind to tickle its charge and it too, gave the wizard a secret (rah ur nas nas nas to'lok)

Smiling, the wizard said, "it is good,"

A spiral from all four directions from the four winds of Life, Natural, Spiritual, Magic...a spiral of counter rotation within rotation.

In the background just before the light of darkness took hold, three rabbits ran and took shelter.

[Lipinski]

Lucy

[Lipinski]

"Ya fucking daft bastard..."

Daft? Old school parasite? You could have used,dufus, dick, fucking, but I like the word, daft.

"It's not fair."

Not supposed to be parasite. Nothing is fair, equal, or nice. One giant world of disappointment and pain, BUT today i had fun.

You see, she will bear a fine girl. A bouncing baby girl, On the machine last night the small light turned green with only a micro, itsy bitsy teeny weeny far smaller than a mm, she won. Now she has a smile and i am happy for her.

In the world of dreams so much is so wonderful.

"Why are you dressed like an Arab whore? You even smell like one."

So you smell whores now? Makes perfect sense since what you to to dolphin..."

"NO, that's enough. Fair enough. I'll drop the subject of you dressed like a complete idiot."

Only $2.99 and it was made for me; special, and now feels like the rocking chair.
*

Rocking Chair

Written by: A blip, a beep, one who is definitely not asleep.

There in a picture first came to mind, a part, of a partial; dream
An auction of sorts where so much is equal
Fairness where everyone is equal.

High bid where certain coins have value and to me they had value indeed.
i won, or should i say, it has always belonged with me
To see the logger cutting down the tree and then to study, follow, and learn of his entire family.

This tree, a bole small in stature than the average hard wood and yet so neccessary.
Hauled to a blade where sawdust sprung free
A mass of children called, boards...

It began that day over 100 years ago, a craftsman smiled and cried as he had lost his family.
Burnt remnants of materials leaving only his hands to weave
and into a chair his efforts became reality.

Their became owners and one woman in particular speaks now to me
Old she rocked in rhythm to her heart as it beat to the cadence of tides so near to her soul and so far from her body.
Young she nursed three children.

In death the chair passed to another who shall remain unnamed, a fancier of something pretty and yet he saw no value in the dream.

Renovation: To make new/ repurpose/ to make strong once more the dream.

In Spokane a company affixed the danger symbol of a chemical
Wires in place
and bolts

No matter, it does not matter, to me.
As now, after touching and sitting in the chair, only once was needed and no more.
No more shall i sit in this chair and yet it will never part from me.

In our fires it too shall perish rocking back and forth
In morning and evning shall i touch
It now belongs in the Dream.

[Lipinski]

"Ping pong."

You like ping pong parasite?

"I know two dolphins, one named Ping and another named Pong."

Interesting. Revelent to something I suppose.

'So, what's up now?"

Well, been thinking how humans lock themselves into the constant struggle to evolve out of embracing their primordial piles of poo. It is all so obvious and sitting right in front of every sense they possess and yet they happily splash the poo all over their minds like a two year old exploring a fresh dog turd.

"Sounds...nasty. Go do something constructive, maybe stand in front of one the the forest fires? I hear the heat is wonderful."

Yeah, got plans today. To do absolutely nothing other than to annoy corgi's, thank God for wiping the shit off my mind, and destroy Margareta in the game of, Scrabble.

"Then what?"

Thinking the Sun needs a good ass kicking so later today would be a good time to play ping pong with the sun and moon.

"Weird, but hey humans like playing with poo, so have fun."

Thanks.

[Lipinski]

Ping pong is usually played with a small white ball, sort of like the one cruising down the road last night.

"Did you see that?" said Craig
"Yes, " said Lauri

Ha!

The mice were like, "What's up dumbshit, this is our yard now."
The little bird fluttered her wings trying to become a hummingibrd.
The air was warm and sweet with the sweat of burning forests.

Back
and
Forth

Forth
and
Back

What a wonderful game.

[Lipinski]

Turkey and moon cheese...Smells like blue cheese without the taste and twice the bang.

Speaking of which, a human nervous system. Very easy to hack and manipulate.
*

In the passion of lust there slides an ice cube gently from the tip of the nipple, down the side, and lift
Then around the base of breast and lift
Firmly planted above the navel and then devoured to soften the heat.

An electric shock as given by a capacitor or magneto while blowing dust into the nostrils causing multiple sneezes
Contractions
Yet the addition of choice: Tickle the feet or pinch a buttocks.

*

Emotions: A Marine drill instructor knows the buttons to push and yet has no idea what kind of Hell they released
Hidden deep and sealed
Yet, given a perfect opportunity

The clock swings and desires
War or Peace?
Time for one at one time with nothing for the other
It is now a time for war so let it be

Nature is stirred and wide awake
Humanity is so easy and so feeble
And them?
Ha!
They have been so busy fighting each other they all have now become...
weak.

Trump raised his fist, the wish and conviction of a dead man
Setting the example
Showing the second hand is spinning away

Strange how the stars align to sing while the Universe drum beats deep
Blood
Gore
Destruction

i wonder though, will anyone pray?

[Lipinski]

"All better now?"

Yep. Milk and cookies AND wearing pink bunny slippers.

"What about war?"

War shmore... There will always be war. But now there are corgi's and cartoons.

"So, I've said this before. Have you considered seeking medical aid? See a shrink? Drink some battery acid?"

Why? When humans see inside my brain they tend to dissolve and disappear. However the battery acid idea is new and it sounds tasty.

"Oh yes indeed. Go try some, you'll greatly enjoy it."

I already enjoy 'it' and it is good. Talked with Wolf and he is one lucky man to make it up the hill with round bales and the 4x4 going tits up. Made it though.

"It all sounds so boring, don't you have anything you want to write instead of the usual bullshit? Maybe write about kittens getting eaten by mutant chickens, or rattlesnakes getting probed by aliens?"

Nah, gonna go get some more milk and cookies and wear the new purple thong I got on Amazon. A bit tight and it is tending to get stuck in the ass crack but it is all good.

"Nothing to say? Nothing to write? Are you sure?"

Okay parasite, just for you. Fuck this world. There, are you happy now?

"Yep. I was beginning to worry that you were getting soft."

No worries parasite, no worries at all. Just waiting for the pieces to fly off in all direction.

[Lipinski]

An Hour Glass

Written by: Wet Sand

Squinting the mind with the eyes closed it becomes easy to shift directions in the hallway

On the left the doors lead to fucking, midgets, migrating ducks, yo-yo's, and evil

On the right there are no words available for explantion.

Tilting the roof to become the floor and walk among the stars is somewhat stirring

Compacting the walls reverses time while releasing just ends up in an explosion

so
so
so
so
so
so
so
so
so
so
so
so
sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo...

boring?
.
.
.
.
.
.
HA!
.
.
.
.
.
to enjoy new ways of eternity becomes creative, becomes stimulation, and with all this now said
off to create some brand spanking new seconds,
even the thought brings their predictable cries to attention
as for the glass on the instrument of time?

Smashed back into sili fragments.

[Lipinski]

You're lucky you don't have balls parasite.

(bemused the purple blob of inspiration replied) "Okay, I'll bite. Why am I lucky I don't have balls?"

Because they itch.

"Well maybe you should stop molesting sheep?"

I don't molest sheep, I eat sheep.

"So what was that awful bleating sound I heard last night?"

My balls itched.

"Sad. Very sad."
*

The scabbard was leather married to metal. A piece designed to hold secure a sword well versed in slicing and piercing flesh.

During the wars of civility and bank powers the victims laid to rest were human. Many parries and thrusts ended up with the holder of the blade to claim victory.

Lately though, the human wars simmered down to make way for the current battle between humans and aliens. Now the blade had new adventures and flesh to pierce. And while the sword gets all the glory along with the human holding it, the scabbard stood by the side in total support.

[Lipinski]

PARASITE! Wake up! The news is horrible!

(when a purple blob falls asleep it is not a pretty sight. currently the parasite was dressed in Batman jammies and sleeping in a hanging stained glass lamp."

"What? What are you mumbling about now?"

Look at the latest headline: Dark day for chocoholics as study finds health risk — and it has nothing to do with calories

"No shit? Damn! What are we gonna do. This is horrible news. Does that mean no more chocolate for us?"

I don't know parasite. So many choices lately. Be a man, be a woman. Drown kittens don't drown kittens. Vote for a moron or vote for a moron. What do you think we should do parasite?

"First, don't drown kittens. That is so wrong. Boiling them in a spicy shirachi sauce is okay but no drowning. Vote for Jesus. And actually if we look at the news from a new perspective, it's actually good for us."

How so?

"Well, Americans have been dumbed down so much now they will stop eating chocolate which will lead to a surplus of unsold chocolate and thus creating the perfect buying opportunity for those of us only earning $29.00 a day."

Good point. And for the record I make $40.00 a day because I also moonlight as a bridge troll.

"Riggght. Okey dokey then. Just don't drown cookies (chocolate/in milk) I mean, kittens, and lets cash in the spare change jar in preparation for buying more chocolate."

Agreed.

"Agreed."

[Lipinski]

A relay stutters
A self resetting fuse staccato's
A
A
A
It's all about the vibrations
And a curse?
Or better yet, curses.

there is a part of my mind locked securely by no one other than God. has to be this way. has to continue.

free will. ever hear of such? And for you God haters, know your minds are completely open. So open it sends vibrations out willy nilly like a bitch dog taking a piss while in heat.

free will with a locked mind, a mind with a section so secure it makes the gold in Fort Knox look like it's being guarded by gold fish. (pun of mine)

Back though to curses. To those who try they now find an interesting situation in their day-to-day lives. Some could say, "Karma."

Curses work better than an Australian aboriginal boomer. (Ha! That set off a wonderful stream of vibrations)

Vibrations are everywhere. Music, words, light, darkness..
A relay stutters
A self resetting fuse staccato's
A
A
A
A It's all abut the vibrations
And a curse made tuo God.

A wonderful joke God, very open in the cesspool of sublime.

Please keep the section locked and secure, unless... of course, you already know that,
unless
except
when
otherwise, to continue ignoring the bad vibrations, the mundane and boring, and to sit upon a secure branch on the tree of Life
Listening
To
Tuo
God's
Music.

[Lipinski]

Read the following while listening to the, The Perfect Circle, Counting bodies like sheep.

In doing so you will be inside the mind of the author thus syncing your mind with insanity.
*
(dedicated to the Agent Barton(s) so soon to die.
(27) tomorrow
and then...Kept an accountant busy!)
****

Pine Box

A small sapling so subtle and soft
A panda thinking candy...

With time comes the wisdom of a hardened reality, A thick bark to shield whatever brief innocence.
He was once a young spry of a lad, bending to the whims of fancy
Now scratching

Prone his fingers grasped out in mock dismay
Scratching
Scratching and tearing strips as long as his past ambitions

Harder and more and same, scratching the dry wood of reality until the very soul bleeds.
Splinters as long reminders to the piercing of quiet and peace
Harder until the bone was left to remember.

His eyes wide as the lids folded back like a curled and wilted Oak leef
Ha!
(acorns aside as that is a whole other story)
The realization of the true folly of men
buried deep below the surface
of the Valley of Life.

[Lipinski]

Yes, it is happening now as the cool winds speak...

"yes, YES, YeS, yeS, yEs....ssss....ssss....ssss."

Rejoice!

And what is death if not merely a form of teaching instruction?

To set the folly of mortal fortitude in a linear place of acceptance?

*

"Kicking the door down they dragged the man and woman from slumber of family and cut short the ambitions of an employer."

Turkey
Iran
Israel
America
Russia
Japan
Sand boxes
Jungles
Ice so ripe and hard in my head.

"Pick the fruit, the Golden leaf, and, and, what is that music so sweet?"

It must be said that in the anger there as 'they, them, those' stare inside the abyss of thoughts being cast away from the mind for a Universe to judge instead of God, only God is allowed to control and command the decisions i make, and Trust me when i say this is good for the worlds choosing Hate.

[Lipinski]

When playing poker with God there are words shared, feelings met, expectations filled. Every day in everything. This is one of the reasons prison life makes one a bit testy, a bit cranky. Prison makes me an asshole.

So, why mention what so many will construe as nothing more than the rantings of a crazy person, a fantasy... It is because it makes conversation with Lucifer all that more significant.

Today, Lucifer and I discussed a Man. A man known as, Jesus. Now, strange as that may seem, Lucifer does not and cannot deny the existence of God. That would be like you denying that you're reading this. Or that you have a brain.

Once the Angel of Light and now in Legion with the light of darkness, the beast makes the will of deceit known through the choices of those who also choose to rebel, to hate, to hide from the Vibrations/Light.

One today said: If I had to pick an imaginary friend, I would want the Flying Spaghetti Monster over a loser who gets captured by the romans, pinned to a cross, and killed

Words. Only a few words. Yet the Truth of a butterfly dipping it's wing into an ocean setting off a hurricane on the other side of the World is, true...

No. Lucifer will deny God but will never deny the Existence.

Lucifer will never ever say, "I love you." Lucifer will never love you, never forgive you, never like you. Lucifer is very secure in its existence and in a moment will 'change' though not of its choice, will, or idea. A concept strange and unfamiliar to you as it should be. For this moment, Lucifer is NOT a friend of humanity here on Earth.

However, God says, "I love you." God loves you, will forgive you, will like you.

It is all so very inspirational to be able to play poker with God, to hear the music. To feel the minds vibrate with such language older than life itself.

When a person puts one hand into a bucket of ice and the other into a boiling pot of water, the mind retreats to the realm of rejection, To retreat, flee, run. This is then followed by the question: Why? Why did I do this? To question themselves.

Now, if one such as Lucifer took your hands and placed one in ice and one in fire, you may think to place the mind into the realm of rejection, To retreat, flee, run. Then to question...To question what? That 'some' thing did that to you? Or did you choose to do that yourself?

One thing to know though. I can place my hand into ice and heat and laugh at myself for the stupidity. There would be no question as to why. Their would be no fleeing, no retreating, no running.

And here is where the Truth is real. If Lucifer took my hands and placed one in ice and one in fire. Against my will, against my desire...Nothing would happen to me. Absolutely nothing. My body is nothing but clay and illusion, my brain a bridge to another world. My soul though, my Body is a part of God.

One day this planet will come to see the reality of the power of illusion. And in turn will come to fully accept the reality of God.

In the meantime, chocolate, ice cream, pizza, humor, corgi's, tree's, fish. birds... These illusions do help on the journey and are in and of themselves, pleasant.'
***

A Tree

Written by: Inspiration from a neighbor who says the Tree of heaven is a weed

The soil is draped in dryness, barren of all but thirst, heat, and death.
Nothing wanted to grow there, even the weeds of thorn and sorrow did their best to flee to fertile grounds.

So many attempts, so many failures.
Apricot, cherry, pine, fir, walnut, plum,larch so so so many trees

One day in exploration a small scrub of a scourge so many try to destroy and call, weed
A little digging, a little drive, a little hole among the rock,
a Tree of heaven stood low to the ground looking up at me.

Water splash, absorbed by the laughter of stone
Evaporated to feed the sky
A thirsty tree.

Years went by, the tree tried
One year stray weed poison hit the tree directly in the eye
Another year a deer polished the horns of his pride
Drought
Sun
Dust
Insect
Animal
Disease
and then...

Last year the stubborn stick said, "Fuck it," ruffled its few leaves and grew
This year?
The tree is now 12 feet tall.

Green
Vibrant
Healthy
Even the mice spend a few moments at night below its canopy drinking tea.

A Weed?
A survivor?
A believer?
It does not matter as the tree and i
believe.

[Lipinski]

When there is planning and talk the hype is greater than the results.
When there is silence and surprise the results are stunning.
*

Rats Mercy

"Please don't kill me," a rat said. A small rat born in early Spring and now so full of himself and adventure.

"Why should you live? You are vermin and destroy so much with your teeth, piss and shit. You will die."

An interesting dialogue between a man who kills every rat he see's and catches. Rats were made to be killed. In history they always had a stage right to appear along with death and disease.

The rat was young and did not know his history as a member of rats. He just knew he liked to chew on fresh shoots of grass and tree. To eat grain and seed. Peanut butter and food of the humans were particularly enticing. And now his taste for goodies allowed him to be caught in a small metal cage located on top of a dead freezer now filled with tools and covered with rat shit and battery chargers.

"I will kill you tomorrow by drowning you in a five gallon bucket."

The rat had no reply. He knew he was trapped without food or water. He knew he could not escape. Thankfully he did not understand time and words such as 'today' or 'tomorrow.'

Morning came as mornings always do, the sun peeking through the atmosphere; light scattering like freed kittens from a basket of yarn. The rat was just where he was the night before, huddled in the back of the cage waiting for something.

"It is time to die rat. Are you ready?" The man saw the rat did not want to talk as the rat knew there was no use pleading or begging for his life. The day before he was told he was vermin and was to be executed. The rat was silent.

Pondering about filling the usual empty hydraulic oil pail with water and dropping the cage and occupant into the water to drown the man said to himself, "No, today this rat will live."

With that said, the man took the cage and with a tumble the rat and his prison were now in the back of the pickup and going for a ride.

"Where should I let this rat go? The neighbors? That would be fun but cruel to both the neighbors and the rat."

Driving up the hill the thoughts of where to let the rat loose was the constant question of, "Here? Maybe there? How about up the mountain?" And so up the mountain the rat rode.

Entering a place of corners and timber the man decided it was a good place for the rat to continue his adventure. Stopping the truck the man told the rat, "You're lucky today. Today you will live to run free. What happens now is up to you and whatever now tries to kill you."

Opening the door to the cage the rat clung to the sides not trusting that he was to be truly freed. Finally though, gravity and sharp shaking of the cage caused the rat to fall to the ground. In only seconds he leaped across the road and headed towards the pine trees. His hind legs hopped like a rabbit and his tail was held high in pride and relief.

The man smiled as he saw the rat disappear unhurt, healthy, happy, and relieved. As he turned he heard the tree's and not the rat, say thanks.