Pens In Unison

 

Reality:

 

Atop the tree a bird nests among roots

Down from the sky a geyser shoots

From a flower the pot did sprout

Birds migrating South took a Northern route

 

Watch the Sun rise at night

The moon creates it very own light

Rivers flow swiftly uphill

The wolf does not hunt and kill

 

Polar caps are not melting blocks of ice

Cargo ships don’t harbor mice

Hunger simply doesn’t exist

Poverty can be erased with a single wish

 

The Earth is such a pristine place

Nobody discriminates religion or race

Climate Change is completely gone

And acid rain doesn’t fill the pond

 

Government is not corrupt

Yellowstone will never erupt

At night it’s safe to walk city streets

All are kind and kindred, everyone you meet

 

Obesity is not a national issue

That student isn’t really pregnant, nor are you

Drugs are never illegally used

Animals are never neglected or abused

 

Yes, you can dream and do anything

Across the world freedom rings

War is really fantasy

There is peace from sea to sea…

 

… What a dream, what a sham

The lion will never lay with the lamb

Terror is our only master

We are headed for disaster

 

Bombs fall, guns fire

Causing innocent to prematurely expire

There is no hope! All this is proof!

…….now hang your head and accept the truth…….

 

 

Departure for a Beautiful Tomorrow:

 

   Outside the porthole-like window harsh, garish bolts of lightning illuminated the perpetual mass of churning black storm clouds that ensconced the planet. The shuttle shook with unsettling violence as the skies we fled through roared in thunderous agony. I could no longer see the toxic, ashy continent I had called home up until today, and for that I was grateful.

   Another agonized roll of thunder rattled the shuttle and further frayed my fragile nerves. I took a long, deep breath as I closed my eyes and settled deeper into my seat. One… two… three… one… two… And before I knew it I had achieved some semblance of a peaceful meditative trance.

   I left my body safely strapped into its seat harness and began to stroll the cabin aisles. I smiled at all the familiar faces, each more queasy-looking than the next. Everyone, including myself, were bundled from bald head to all eight toes, and I marveled at the extravagance of colorful fabric against all the grey, wrinkled faces. After so long living in a hellish furnace the shuttle’s constant temperature of 76’C was just too chilly for comfort.

   Once again the windows were illuminated and I observed my body shake and vibrate along with the entire cabin. Sitting beside me was 7 year old Amita Pence, whose fear was so overwhelming that it increased the amount of wrinkles in her leathery grey skin. A plush purple hat was pulled down over her bald head and, as the shaking intensified, she pulled it down over her eyes. Watching her, I vaguely wondered if she would ever grow hair underneath that hat, or anywhere else on her body for that matter.

   Before boarding the shuttle I had read some of my great grandmother’s diary entries and perused her old photo albums. Every word and image seared my imagination with glorious images of silken trusses of gold, auburn, and onyx cascading down from smooth scalps.  I dreamt of full, rounded breasts that would bounce as I ran and soft, supple flesh that would cushion my aching joints. I yearned for flawless skin , milky white and creamy to the touch, or bronzed and toned to golden perfection. My consciousness and body signed longingly in unison.

   One… two… three… Slowly I returned to my body at the prompting of the captain, who had just announced over the intercom our departure from the atmosphere. Outside the windows the mass of churning clouds had been replaced with a debris field, the result of the Surveillance Purge of 2095. At least the shuttle had a semi-functional defense shield.

   While Earth was left shrinking in the window’s field of vision I gazed at the pathetic planet to bid my former home goodbye. It had claimed my parents, my sister, my lover, and I sneered at the receding testament to nauseating human failure with utter contempt. Without remorse I let my memories of my old life fall away, replacing them with dreams of grassy meadows, towering forests, gleaming cities, ample breasts, and curtains of hair. As I did so I wondered if my imagination was even doing these priceless commodities justice…

   It would be another three days until we reached the launch platform of Solar Savior 9. Exhausted and freezing, I drifted off to sleep and dreamt of our future Eden, where I would finally experience the warm embrace of a sunrise.

 

 

  Woes of a Bitch of the Universe:

 

   Sometimes you fall down because there is something at the bottom you are meant to find. Well, I fell down a flight of stairs last week and all I found was a broken leg, bruised ribs, a sore neck, and a card from the janitor that read:

     “Sorry I forgot to put up a sign after I waxed the hallway. If you ever need a house cleaner I am your man, so long as the pay isn’t too bad.”

  Yeah, so at the moment I am not buying into that philosophical mumbo jumbo. Instead, I am sitting at my computer on a Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of March, when I should be in chemistry class, though I can’t say I miss it all too much. Chemistry is hell, plain and simple. Plus, I am convinced that it isn’t smart to teach teenagers and newly legalized adults what can be produced by combining certain volatile chemicals, much less teach them how to successfully mix the chemicals afterwards. Why don’t we just rename the class Pre-Meth and cut out all this pretense garbage about denouncing drugs? Obviously, the teachers want to see how long they can swindle rock bottom prices out of the minds they have been trusted to mold and are loathe to give it up, thus the veil of secrecy and false innocence. Which makes me wonder, how many students have got in trouble for doing drugs on campus right after a teacher had snuck out of the bathroom?

   Now I have no idea what my original purpose for writing was, thanks to my deep and socially relevant tangent. Can I even call it a tangent if I hadn’t yet started telling any type of story? Or was my explanation of why I am not in school right now the beginning of my story, thus making the drug subject a legitimate tangent? And there I go again…

   Ok, so we have established that I am currently an invalid thanks to a brainless janitor who waxes floors on Fridays at 3:00, right as school is letting out. What I have yet to share with you is how I am occupying my newly found free time. Apparently the universe is convinced that my accident and injuries are not enough of a burden for me, and yesterday I was dealt yet another blow, this time injuring my ability to show my face in school when this damn cast comes off. In four weeks.

   Matthew Everty, of all people, was sent to my door after school yesterday to drop off my assignments for the week. Matthew is a gorgeous dunderhead varsity wrestler whose pants I would gladly pay for to be repaired or replaced. If not for the vacant stare that made its home on his face, those blue green eyes would surely drown me in an ocean of frothy sea foam. And those arms, the heat they emit would be more than enough to set me completely ablaze were he to envelope me in his embrace. Well, that is not going to happen any time soon, so let us end this pathetic, horny teenage dream sequence and return to our tale.

   It was 5 o’clock and I was up in my bedroom, listening to music that isn’t worth describing, when I heard nature calling. Can you already see the direction this is heading? If not, you are stupid and obviously have no social life or worldly experience. 

   When nature calls, you answer that call because the last thing you want is for nature to leave you a message after the tone. So, I got out of my bed and limped on my crutches into the bathroom across the hall. Now, understand that the architect who designed my house seems to have had some issues when it came to privacy. The moron design the upstairs bathroom so that, after walking in, you hand to pass the shower and sink, then turn a corner before happening on a porcelain throne tucked away in a toilet-sized cubby that could double as a safe room if a door was added. As a result, anyone who enters the bathroom directly after you will not know you are there unless making a verbal inquiry. And really, let’s face it, most people lack the common sense to announce themselves before entering any room unless the door is 100% undeniably closed.  I made the mistake of thinking that people still knock before entering bathrooms in the homes of strangers. In fact, I made the mistake of thinking people still wait to be invited in to the homes of strangers.

   He walked right in to the house without so much as a “Hey!” and ran up the stairs. The bathroom door is plainly visible from the bottom of the stairs, resting ever so conveniently immediately after the front door. Apparently nature was calling his name too, because, before I knew what was happening, he was charging into the bathroom. The talented wrestling star had exposed himself in transit from the hall to the loo, and didn’t even blink before proceeding to relieve himself in to my lap.

   The warm amber liquid raced down my leg and began to soak the gauze in my cast. I just sat there, helpless, as he realized too late what he was doing. With a gentle gesture of my hand I calmly shushed the beginning of his stunned blubbering jibberish I can only assume was meant to be some sort of apology or excuse. I turned my head and averted my eyes as he retreated from the toilet cubby and out of the room. I wonder if he ever noticed that he had forgotten to tuck his little buddy away.

  Thankfully my dad is a surgeon downtown at the hospital, and my daddy’s office is just off the kitchen downstairs, so I was able to quickly replace my sodden wrappings around my leg. Let me tell you, trying to explain this all to my parents was a nightmare. Hell, just calling Daddy to come and help me get off the toilet and clean up was humiliating enough. I’m 18, not 8. I shouldn’t need parental assistance on issues concerning toilet procedure.

   Sometimes you fall because there is something at the bottom you are meant to find. Next time I fall, I hope I plummet through a time vortex and land in a better blasted world.

   

 

 

 

The Lover’s Revenge:

 

   Sad is she whose love is lost; inside her heart does break. From out of love’s unfaithful sting, her trust in love is lost, but the tears are quick to dry. Paid must be a debt, retribution from he that murdered her loving soul. She vows the payment get.

   With the swiftness of the midnight wind, and with the silence of the grave, to his home she journeyed, following the road revenge had paved. Cat-like, she climbed the old tree’s boughs to where his window waited. Peering into the darkness, and with stone in hand, she shattered the glass into the shimmering rain.

   The whore whom with he lay began to scream. With calm and poise she glided from the window and across the floor, blood trailing from her now tattered feet. Her fresh scarlet lips started beaming.

   From her belt the knife is unsheathed, and in a flash all screams are halted. Butchered blood arches through the air and the whore’s flailing arm goes limp with death. Beneath the fresh corpse he lay, held prisoner by her unyielding weight. From his lips rang the hymns of fear as he also met his fate.

   Calls concerning screams poured in and, as the sunlight began to shine, the responding officers who gazed on the scene departed with frightened eyes. They had seen a woman, nude and supple, draped over his chest with the word “WHORE” carved into her back. And as for him, well, he bled between his legs and stared blankly, open-eyed, and choking on his jewels.

   Let this serve as warning to all who betray the sacred laws of respect and love: Retribution will come on swift wings… Sooner or later… Some day…