Ruminations upon approaching my 100th birthday – while still able to scooch, sidle, shimmy, snuggle, squat..
January thirteenth deux thousand and fifty nine only x squared number months away. Courtesy of global warming the howl of old man winter long fostered, linkedin, relegated... to the meteorological dustbin of Earth's history. This indignity to enraged Gaia. Subsequently she gingerly foisted upon bipedal critters blistering, scorching, withering,... temperatures. Hellacious for any fool who dared to amble, ferry, scuttle..., across the crusty burnt offering mantle of said oblate spheroid basically, essentially and literally liquidated the once diverse four seasons into one hot long summer. Despite dire doomsday prognostications countless elapsed generations blithely ignored stepped up iterations Mother Earth could go kaput fell on deaf ears. Analogous to the boy who cried wolf, the honest to dog diehard devil in the details got nay sayed, poo pooed, trumpeted, et cetera as “FAKE” news. Undisputable, undeniable, uncontestable, irrefutable... scientific data blithely skirted courtesy pant tum mime ming politicians. Hardcore scientific data claimed as ploy to distort, hoodwink, muckrake as odious Republican party. Though no conspiracy theory, this realization undermined quality of all life and stultifiedall creatures great and small each compromised delicate thread, viz seriously threatened uber World Wide Web. Human civilization namely soaring disenfranchised bajillion populations contributing most spike, asper hungry mouths to feed plan net absolute zero elimination of fossil fuels materialized beyond the "talking heads" stage. Serious irreparable environmental degradation diversity regarding species diversification took Kamikaze nosedive , whereby bipedal hominids, i.e. specifically Homo sapiens to whit made final endrun touchdown. Only a few toke ken flora and fauna endowed with privilege from said self anointed, elected, and jackknifed biosphere. Total mortal kombat desecration long since declared upon all other creatures large and small lame odds against most formidable fee fie foe fum I smell blood of Everyman. The ability for scientists of all stars and stripes definitely greater than fifty plus perfected the ways and means to synthesize, albeit do it yourself cloning kits recreating with minimal mutations impossible mission to distinguish once upon a time authentic animals (particularly humans), and plants versus mutation free replicas version xyz. Each man, woman, and child inherently capable, feasible, permissible to forage, (or forge) any extinct life form after genetically modified bot size organisms became chromosomally integrated. Yea quite a hullabaloo scores of decades back. These vehement uproars (protesting outright novel manipulation - leftist kindled jibber jabber walking iconoclasts) by good n plenti madding crowd sourced with austere outlook nonestablishmentarian. Popular protests against agribusinesses (amateur blind faith knowledge) frequently led to misguided disastrous results. I refer, while simultaneously taking deep inhalation of homemade reefer to age of discovery and exploration. Now nonpareil sophistication generically trademarked, mere pennies on the dollar prevailed for mom and pop boutiques "cell bait shops," more so for exotic breeders to catercorner a niche market heartily throve. Interestingly enough, more conservative advocates (initially no surprise liberal revolutionary types) pressed government(s) to assert regulation. Unlikely severe checks and balances could be implemented at this foregone stage, cuz plethora of custom designed ecologies promulgated, kindled, inculcated, et cetera at initial terrestrial hermetically sealed tougher genetic ware of select fertilization. Such accustomed, embedded, gerrymandered, et cetera paradigm part and parcel of humanity analogous to the aromatic, organic, and universalistic controlled environmentally fractionally formulated, distilled, brewed... air supply people breathe. Software applications readily proliferate, though most of us quite able minded to code for prospective fathers, mothers, or avowed single parent available to tinker, fiddle and finely tune an offspring. The latest purported technological advancement blends computer fostered instituted quasi android with deoxyribonucleic acid these latter twenty first century primates culled, but basic understanding of biochemistry allows, enables, and provides cutting edge fantastic glowing harvested innovations, where fertile imagination stretched to outer limit of twilight zone meant outer reaches of cosmos the limit.
Similar to any exploratory craft fabricating, honing, and interweaving the blend of microelectronics insync with carbon life forms takes artificial intelligence into the sketchy realm of science fiction supreme sensate beings. Thus, the prolongation of telomeres lifespan, a quandary gaining significant realization since prelapsarian times, harkening back when my bubba's zayda to the power of Google) increased longevity of the average human. Actually, even pets and/or other domesticated creature included within sweep of keeping a check on aging cells, perhaps helps to explain the title of this vignette. Naturally, mine bicentennial circuit denoting seventy thousand days warrants accommodation of loved ones. This thrifty Pennywise papa of E_ L_ and S_ A_ tried level best to guide his two lovely daughters toward enlightenment.
A Funeral
I am holding a funeral of a friendship.
I cremate the memories that we had together as I set fire to all the letters and things I got from my friend with my lighter. As I see them turn to ashes in front of my eyes, tears stream down my face.
When you don’t take care of a corpse, it decays and the smell kills you. Also, you need to pay some respect to the soul of the deceased.
Same thing happens when you don’t take care of a friendship that died. It rots and eats you up from inside. So I figured I need to give our friendship a proper send-off.
In front of the ashes, I make a promise to remember our time together. I may shed tears sometimes but I will not dwell on the past. I promise to move on.
I turn away, bidding a silent farewell to our friendship.
What a lonely funeral it was. My friend didn’t even bother to attend.
Yet I can see
At first you can't see anything
Not anything
But you
In such darkness
I'm not surprised
You can't see
Your beauty
Your beautiful
Your eyes soft as the sweet tea you make me
Your body so warm as you unmake me
Pressed against me
So no
I'm not
Surprised
To see again
Clearer than ever
In your eclipse
Money Withdrawl Declined - Cyclo Officially Challenged!
This chapter is part of "The Small Town Magic Arc." Links for prior chapters in this storyline can be found here: https://www.theprose.com/post/746871/the-small-town-magic-arc
Cyclo opened the treasure chest and eyed the money within greedily. He reached in to remove the bills for counting purposes, but as he did so the money disappeared, and electric blasts emerged from the chest, shocking him.
Tamma grinned as Cyclo screamed in pain. The plan she formed with the Pirate and his crew was unfolding perfectly.
"So that's it?" Jahno asked nervously. "We've won?"
"Sorry Dad, but that won't be enough to stop him." Tamma advised as Cyclo's electrocution continued. "But the next phase will be starting now."
A brilliant white light generated from the electric blasts, surrounding Cyclo, Tamma, and Jahno. Once the light faded, the three found themselves standing on a vast plot of farmland, with houses far off in the distance.
"Yay, the trap and transfer worked!" Essie squealed, standing beside Rick, Cerissa, and Mitch (who had already transformed into his Pirate form). Essie and Cerissa were dressed in their mage robes, while Rick was fully armored thanks to his helmet. The crew raced over to where Tamma and Jahno stood.
Cyclo broke free from the electric blasts, then cast a fireball out of his hand that incinerated the treasure chest. He then turned to glare at Jahno, Tamma, and their new allies.
"You've really blown it this time Jahno. Now your precious daughter and the rest of your pathetic town are mine for the taking!"
"No, you.... you.... you.... are wrong." Jahno stammered nervously. "I am putting my faith in my daughter, who entrusted this Pirate and his crew to stop you."
"Thanks Dad." Tamma said softly as tears once again rolled down her cheeks. "Alright guys, Cyclo is away from everyone else in town, and he should be partially weakened from the jolt in that trap. That should make a difference in the fight to come!"
"Ha ha ha ha, your daughter is even dumber than you Mr. Mayor!" Cyclo roared with laughter. He then waved a hand over himself, fully treating his injuries with a healing spell.
"Don't you dare insult Tamma, you are the idiot here!" Rick shot back. "You will regret underestimating us, we have more than enough power and talent to stop you. Hey Pirate, is it ok if I fight him first?"
To be continued....
Raised by a Stork
Beak cause of being taken under wing by the kindness of this U crane relative, I pay written homage to my ability to fend for myself and fly in the face of adversity.
Left abandoned under the shade of a sequoia tree when just born, my birth parents never known to me.
Pink flamingos and pelicans essentially constitute social structure, thus helping to explain erratic flapping motions and diving head first into billions of waterways in search of prey.
Heights of Ash and berries (such as those found in Acapulco and/or Baja, California) give me a rush, especially when catching the atmospheric headwinds and soaring like Icarus.
Although just a clumsy, fledgling gangly mass of skinny legs and feathers, a push from me famous mother worm monger (the superb flier Harriet) found immediate fear when warmly booted from out the nest.
Rather than be a bird din, this automatic instinct in the aviary species witnesses little tufts of soft downy pirouetting in a downward spiral when just before making contact with land, the natural reflexive welcome visits.
Fortunate for yours truly that an exceptional ability to escape an untimely close call with terrestrial firmament witnessed an amazing power (e quill to pluribus Unum) to jet far into the stratosphere where eagles soar.
Although bequeathed with such exemplary powers to wrench away from the tug of gravity, I downplayed this skill and feigned being brought into this world (in the hands of some unknown person) an ordinary set of claws with an atypical noteworthy tail comprising prismatic colors when fanned out.
Always one to maintain modesty, the extraordinary ability to display awesome aerial stunts fueled rumors within all four corners of the globe.
All the major squawk show hosts such as osprey winfrey, morey egret, springer falcon, et cetera scrambled to enlist such feats of lighter than air ballet escapades.
Like the taste of fresh fish on salmon enchanted evening, I savored the adulation, yet also felt obliged to provide for the surviving parents no matter that she hen pecked his only male heir to the architectural splendor of his domain.
This equates to my Alaska Bull worm size wordy tweet.
Blot.
All around her, the world dimmed. The ubiquitous darkness seemed as though she were gazing into the vast pupil of the universe. Like a mite of dust, she floated and trembled before it.
She knew it couldn't be real.
How could it?
How could the world become so cold, so dark, in just an instant? Everything seemed to float around her, twirling weightlessly, so that every time she shifted and felt the ground beneath her, a strange vertigo reared up. She shivered at the way the wind hushed and stilled to look at the huge spot, the pupil, that peered out at the Earth. It was all so strange and lovely. When she blinked, the universe's fiery iris created a purple ring on her inner eyelid. Strange and lovely.
Once in a lifetime, this phenomenon occurs. Yet that didn't seem true. It was a lifetime, eternity stretched over a fistful of moments, moments running through her grip like water. An eternity was held in that great eye; an eternity in knowing that even forever must end. The flame haloed pupil gently reminded her that even the sun will change and disappear; long after she has escaped the gaze of the universe's pensive eye; long after the light of the sky is no longer obscured by this beautiful blot.
Spritely Creatures of the Night
Whisper light
They float in the
Darkness of each night
Whilst making
Gardens semi-bright.
Mischievous,
Mystical
Little sprites.
Exuding
Auras of delight
Their flights,
A tapestry spun
In the obscured night,
Amidst all else
They blossom,
Consuming at first sight.
Whispers echo
In the gust of wind,
Delicate blossoms
Open to receive
Cryptic showers,
Enlightenment is perceived
In each display of
Pixie dust they weave.
Visions of dimmed light
Obscured by the night
Some fair, some small,
Some large, some tall.
They flit, they fly
Amongst the special chosen few
Spreading strands of magic
To the world anew.
Alluring, divine
Creatures of the Fay,
If they perchance to
Fly your way,
Know they surely bring
An ease of days
Whilst showering
Fortunes utterly sublime.
The Contest
“Ends tomorrow.”
I notice the tagline on the writing contest.
“You haven’t a chance,” a gravelly thought echoes.
I log off my computer just before a thought with an Irish brogue chimes, “Give it a go, lad! This is yer lucky day!”
“No such thing as luck,” the gruff voice croaks with a laugh.
I rise from my desk chair. But before I take a step, the Irish notion replies, “Then what do you call logging off the instant before a massive virus would have struck?"
I sit and log back on.
computer?”
I sit down and log back on.