Life is . . .

Maidu_hut_recreation_-_Maidu_Interpretive_Center

 

I am standing naked on a

smooth, round Earth.

There is nothing here but me.

No objects and no people.

I am tired, so I look and see a chair

is behind me.

I sit.

 

I am young and time passes

slowly and there is

nothing to do.

I am bored.

I get old and then

I die.

What was the point of all that?

 

I am young and time passes

slowly and there is

a ball in front of me

RED

against all this whiteness

and I think that’s neat.

I play with the ball and

it bounces and bounces and it is

sometimes hard to catch.

Years pass and

I am bored.

I get old and then

I die.

What was the point of all that?

 

I am young and time passes

slowly and there is

nothing to do.

There is nothing here but me.

No objects and no people.

I am tired, so I look and see a chair

is behind me.

I sit.

There is a noise to my left

and I look to see a PERSON

We are a little nervous,

two people in two chairs and

no other people anywhere and

what in this glassy white world is

there to say?

But we speak

We get to know each other

and have long talks and

smile sometimes and

when we get older we find

a bouncy red ball and

laugh together at the fact that just

bouncing it back and forth to each other is

so much fun.

Years pass and

we get old and then

we die.

A sad ending, but… worth it.

 

I am young and time passes

slowly and there is

nothing to do.

I look down and there is GREEN grass

beneath my toes.

I wiggle my toes and smile and

look behind me and there is a small hut.

Water starts to hit the top of my head and

it is cold so I step into the hut and look back out

and marvel at the water as it

leaks slowly from the grass onto the

Earth’s white surface.

There is a door, a window, and a bed in my hut.

I am happy to lie down and rest in my VERY OWN hut.

Years pass and I walk out of my hut and there is a large

HOUSE sitting just a red ball’s throw away.

It is the size of twenty of my huts.

It has grass also but it looks a little…

greener.

And there is a large, majestic gate

surrounding it and there are tons of RED balls

on the grass.

Some red balls are very LARGE.

I walk over to the gate and press a GOLD BUTTON

and I am excited to hear another person’s voice.

“Yes?”

They are nervous like me but that’s ok.

“Hi, would you like to play ball?”

I am smiling.

“NO,” they say. “I don’t know you. Please go away.”

Now water is falling from my head as I

go back to my LITTLE hut.

I grow old and bored and I can only

look at all the other balls in the green, green yard

with the mean gatekeeper.

I am lonely and angry and mad and so I

throw my red ball at a window in the big house

and it breaks and I am scared but happy as I

run back to my hut.

No one ever comes out.

Years pass and

I am bored.

I get old and then

I die.

What was the point of all that time

I had to spend not getting the things I wanted?

 

I am young and time passes

slowly and there is

nothing to do.

I look down and there is GREEN grass

beneath my toes.

I wiggle my toes and smile and

look behind me and there is a LARGE HOUSE.

I walk across the most wonderfully colored grass

to my VERY OWN house and smile and fall asleep

on the softest bed ever.

When I awake, I look out my window and there is

a small little hut across the way.

I am worried at what kind of creature could

live in a hut that small.

It could come out and take one of my balls from

the grass and so now there is a large gate

wrapping around my house.

And a good thing too because sure enough

someone has come from that small little hut

and is trying to get at my grass and red balls and

maybe they even want to come and take my

house away.

They walk over to MY gate and press MY GOLD BUTTON

and I can hear a crazed excitement in their voice.

“Yes?”

I am nervous because I do not know if they

can get in.

“Hi, would you like to play ball?”

I am frowning

and I knew they wanted to take my red balls

from MY grassy yard.

“NO,” I say. “I don’t know you. Please go away.”

Now I cannot leave my house

or they will come in and take my things

and so I am trapped here forever.

Years pass and

I am bored.

I get old and then

I die.

What was the point of all that time

I had to spend trapped in my house?

 

I am standing naked on a

smooth, round Earth.

There is nothing here but me.

No objects and no people.

I am tired, so I look and see a chair

is behind me.

I sit.

Anything can happen now

I guess.

 

 

Check out my project on Kickstarter.

Sorry, Charlie on Kickstarter

 

 

 

Ego

Frowny-man1

 

I am a raging poet,

my inked hatchet

flesh wedging a spray of bloody

word foam onto the triage

of paper,

bending

folding

spindling

mutilating

a torrent of liquid emotion,

wrenched thought spasms

corrugated prisms of mind swell,

and when I have wrought and reaped,

stretched my filigree soul over

a brittle weave of yellowed paper,

soaked the pages with philosophical blood,

crimson views of humanity, caramelizing

the sticky pages together,

a pungent weld of glory and desperation,

my wife looks it over and says,

“Yeah, cool.”

 

Don’t forget to check out my project on

Sorry, Charlie on Kickstarter

 

What is mine

She glides toward

and my ego

sloughs,

a dripping slug down my thigh

and pools,

amoebic at my feet

 

She glides by

salty heels piercing

breaking the surface

sloshing through my puddled soul

and almost slips like Freud

from my pedestal

 

She sways through

hypnotizing

like watching the ocean

a metronome of silken hair

with my ego trailing awkwardly

from her heels

 

She speaks

the crowds sways

spellbound

voice like honey

reverberating every cell separately

in perfect harmony

in perfect rhythm

 

She is done

it is done

people mingling and

I turn

and she is there

in front of me

my mouth opens and is silent

 

She smiles and turns away

I panic and –

‘Excuse me, could I have my ego back?”

 

Her perfect smile interrupted

by my insecurity

and after a four hundred year second

her smile returns

and she restores             what was mine          what was me.