Monthly Archives: June 2008

The Unusual Creature by Milou

Free Writing, , ,

Podcast – The Unusual Creature

Once a great wizard who’d studied many books
Said, “There aren’t many animals with horrible looks.”
So he dreamt one up and wrote it all down
(The animal’s description would make anyone frown)
He wrote it down on a wrinkly sheet
And described the animal head to feet:

I has yellow-stained teeth and green, slimy skin
And long, crooked horns and a horrid back fin
It has long, dainty claws and is terribly mean
It has fur on its head and is definitely – NOT CLEAN!

When the wizard had finished, he thought ’bout this creature
And said, “It exists, my mom has these features.”

The Unusual Creature

Liquid Persuasion

Poetry

“Out beyond ideas of

Wrongdoing and rightdoing,

There is a field.

I’ll meet you there.”

~Rumi

Liquid Persuasion

Beyond the gate

Of right and wrong

There is an arboretum

Where you will

Drape me in

Finest silks

From Turkestan

And seduce me

With your full-bodied,

Burgundy words

And Sauvignon ideas

Imported through

The ages with all

Their smoky allure intact

And their rich, seamless

Texture still fragrant

With blackberry and plum,

Cloaked in dark chocolate

And infused with

Sun-ripened currants,

And I will drink down

Your liquid persuasion

Until my palate is numb

And every cell

In my body glows

With the sanguine of you,

For you are both

Spirit-maker

And sommelier,

A rare combination of

Dry and sweet,

And I shall never lose

My thirst for

Union with you.

© 2008
Reference:  Barks, Coleman, Translator, The Essential Rumi, Special Edition,

                        New York, Quality Paperback Book Club, 1998

Poe's Response

Poetry

Your life has twists and turns,

Like the way a coaster rides.

You hate to feel the burn,

Of the decisions you decide.

But, your conscience is in hiding,

From the alcohol you drink.

What’s the use in even fighting,

You use the drugs, and not the ink.

I’ve tried to help you so many times,

But you turn your back and run.

Even, Death and you seem to intertwine,                                              

The only thing you want is rum.

Where is the writer,

Who used to accept the pain?

He used to be a fighter,

And could accept the fame.

That brave man, is now gone,

to something he despised.

His body never to awake at dawn,

but it’s his soul that will always cry.

The words he brought to life,

Seemed to glide across the page.

The happiness torn by strife,                                                            

Should have been torn by age.

The return to Baltimore,

Should never have transpired.

Just one step through the wrong door,

All at once, he left what he desired.

He wanted help, but no one ever heard,

His painful cry, his every word.

He was desperate, he was lured,

To the one thing that he heard.

Now, he is no more, 

But the poems will be known. 

With his remains left on the shore,

Forever…all alone…

What did KNDU187 want from the people on earth? Fiction? Or is it?

Sci-Fi, , , , , , , ,

Our sun provides the heat and light we need to survive. The life of the sun seems almost infinite; however, what would happen to us if it only had less than three months before exploding?
Dr. John White, a scientist who defected to NKRA as an accused traitor of the USAA, and KNDU187
made an effort to stabilize the sun. What did KNDU187 want from the people on earth? Why did
Dr. White defect? Did our president betray us and only care for his family? What KNDU187 has to say?

In January 2008, a NASA SSRC 1-2008 press release reported possible sun problems that could result in human race
starvation. http://www.spaceandscience.net/id16.html. 

I will answer any of your questions.

Thanks. KNDU187

Rat – a-tat…..

Poetry, , ,

Rat-a-tat…..


Rat-a-tat, tat, tat Rat-a-tat, tat, tat,
is the lonely sound of a small worn drum.
The sound is recognizable all around the world,
if you listen close, even you, will begin to hum.

Rat-a-tat, tat, tat Rat-a-tat, tat, tat,
one solitary beat, heard too many times before.
Solemnity to the soul, engrained in us forever,
melodic tune, with no smiles, on any foreign shore.

Rat-a-tat, tat, tat Rat-a-tat, tat, tat,
walking along, row by row, a sea of crosses white.
Many names, many lives lost before their time,
when will mankind learn, this is not our plight.

Rat-a-tat, tat, tat Rat-a-tat, tat, tat,
wiping off old dirt, wet sand, dried tears.
What would they have been, if given a chance,
we will never know, with them went their fears.

Rat-a-tat, tat, tat Rat-a-tat, tat, tat,
those who are long gone, their memories survive.
Families mourn, holding on to what they have,
teddy bears, folded flags, anything left alive.

Rat-a-tat, tat, tat Rat-a-tat, tat, tat,
children carry photographs, moms a broken heart.
Dads internalize tears, hold on to pride of service,
keeping what is left of family from falling apart.

Rat-a-tat, tat, tat Rat-a-tat, tat, tat,
many years, many tears when is enough, enough.
As a nation we fought hard, now grow very weary,
time is growing shorter, life is getting rough.

Rat-a-tat, tat, tat Rat-a-tat, tat, tat,
when all is done, from out the haze.
Smoke begins to clear, silence is all you hear,
but for the sound one solitary bugle plays.
“Day is done…..Gone the sun…..
From the lakes, From the hills, From the sky…..
All is well…..Safely rest…..
God is nigh…..”
Rat-a-tat, tat, tat Rat-a-tat, tat, tat,
is the lonely sound of a small worn drum.
The sound is recognizable all around the world,
if you listen close, even you, will begin to hum.

Rat-a-tat, tat, tat Rat-a-tat, tat, tat,
one solitary beat, heard too many times before.
Solemnity to the soul, engrained in us forever,
melodic tune, with no smiles, on any foreign shore.

Written by:
Karen Palumbo
3/5/2008 (c) All Rights Reserved

If

Poetry

If

Only there were

Another opportunity…

Another chance…

To say those things

Left unsaid…

Perhaps it would

Ease the pain…

Lessen the guilt…

If Only