~ POEMS ~
WE, THE PIANO My keyboard, oh my keyboard, in the den. First with difficulty and then with ease. did I learn to play, before I was ten, ebony keys beside ivory keys. Why can't we, oh why don't we, do the same, get along with others unlike ourselves? Why must we point the finger, lay the blame at others who really are like ourselves? Could we not embrace the variety, harmonize in diverse nationwide bands in this, our melting pot society; make this world a better place, if we can? If plain and sharp and flat can harmonize, why can't we, the human breed, be so wise?
PIECES OF PI(E) Everybody wants a piece of the pie, or is that a piece of the pi? Math teachers need sweets, too, or should that be 3.141592? Slice it any way you want, large or tiny, depending on your hips and hiney; everything in moderation, be it addition or multiplication. For my part, I'll take blueberry with a side of addition, ordinary. Add whipped cream and all is great or in the case of pi, 65358. Oi! Now I've got some indigestion; perhaps it's time for bowel subtraction.
BAGGAGE CLAIM They met in the Airport of Life, in the Baggage Claim area. Hers was heavy, his was, too. "Here", he said, "Let me carry your sorrow, your pain, your sense of helplessness." Said she, "I can help tote your load; I'll help you with your insecurity, your jealousy, your feelings of emasculation." Man and woman, they each helped with the others' luggage, and made it easier to carry what they struggled to carry alone. Man and woman, helping each other down the concourse of Life.
PIG 'N HOG (a nursery rhyme) piggle wiggle, piggle wig, a pig in a poke sat down beside a hog in a cloak. both of them were shy, so neither one spoke 'til they saw and heard what they thought was smoke. Said the pig to the hog, "i think we're toast", said the hog to the pig, "perhaps a roast." toasty, roasty, two chops on a plate, they tried to run, but were too late.
- MICROFICTION -
DINNERTIME "Hey," he smiled at his wife, as she entered the kitchen, tired from a long day's work. "I've already started dinner, so just sit back, relax; I'll let you know when it's done." She went to the bedroom to change, returning shortly thereafter. She watched as he finished searing the meat, adding vegetables and potato bites. He served the plates while she poured the drinks. Sitting down, she asked, "What happened to Jim? I thought we were having him over for dinner." His face went from smiling to glaring as he put her plate in front of her, and he answered, "Oh, but we are, my dear, we are."
NO SLEEP TONIGHT! "Doctor," Winston exhaled, assuming the position on the psychiatrist's couch, "I feel sheepish admitting this, but I've been baaad baaad." Dr. Churchill glanced at him over her glasses. "What did you do this time?" Winston blushed, turning his ivory wool pink. He whispered. "I...I used up all of the pills ewe gave me. The insomnia's worse!" The doctor stared at her patient. "I cannot possibly prescribe you a higher dose or allow you a refill yet-" "But-" "Shhh!...Shhh!...Have you ever considered counting people?" "Counting? People? I...I-" "You've never done it. Perhaps I should have suggested it sooner, but your blood levels alarmed me such that I thought the pills would be the best place to start. Now, I fear that you are getting severly dependent on them, so we much search for alternatives. I think that counting people will work nicely." "Oh...oh...kay." "It's very simple. You just picture the bipeds doing something mundane, like maybe going through the line at their grocers... Try it for one week and let me know how it goes." *One Week Later*: "So", Dr. Churchill addressed her patient, "How did the people-counting go?" "Fine...until the guy with the lamb chops went through the line!"
-- FLASH FICTION --
A WORD FROM HANSEL AND GRETEL "So, there we was in the woods, all by ourselves cuz our bastard-ass parents couldn't be bothered to take care of us." Hansel told the room. "I mean, what the fuck?! Aren't parents supposed to sacrifice for children instead of sacrificing the children?" "What Hansel is trying to say," continued Gretel, "is that we were faced with the unexpected challenge of being prematurely independent." Hansel gave his sister a weary look, but let his twin continue. They were in a therapy session, after all, so perhaps her diplomatic way of speaking was better...for the moment. "We had kind of expected that we would be faced with such a challenge, so I brought along breadcrumbs in my pocket, but alas, birds came and ate them, so we had to mature more quickly." "Bastards!" Hansel erupted and Goldilocks giggled, looking at him slyly under her blonde lashes. He sure did have a potty mouth, but he was way cute, nonetheless. Perhaps after session, they could- "Right," Gretel nodded, her auburn curls bouncing as she spoke and the freckles upon her crinkly nose making Jack Horner Jack Horny. "But we soldiered on until we came upon this house made of wonderful confections." "Candy," the gingerbread man intoned, knowingly, and shuddered. "We was hungry, of course, so we started eatin' off it. I had just started on the most delicious-ass taffy windowsill when some doctor came out of the house. Bastard started talkin' 'bout all this candy ain't good to eat at one time...Ass-hole! Why the fuck did he build the house if we wasn't to eat off it? Dumb-ass fuck!" Hansel's bottom lip curled at the memory and he ran a hand through his shoulder-length auburn hair. His nose was missing Gretel's freckles, but Rose Red still thought he was a most delicious dish to look at. Maybe after group therapy was over- Gretel nodded and picked up the tale. She was trying very hard to impress the therapist, Peter Pan, with her soft way of speaking, but he seemed to barely be paying attention, as his eyes were on Tinkerbell, but she kept going, nonetheless. "Well, it turned out that the doctor was actually a nutritionist and he'd built the house as a way of drumming up business. He led us inside with promises of treats that were just as delicious but better for us, nutrition-wise." "Tofu? Fuckin' TOFU? He called that a treat?!" All heads turned as Hansel threw a chair across the room. Fortunately, Tom Thumb had stormed out earlier, so he wouldn't be missing his seat, which now sat in a broken heap in the corner. "Hansel, please!" Gretel coughed and eyed Mr. Pan, who had finally looked up. Her brother muttered apologies and Gretel kept going, now that Peter was attentive. "The tofu was rather bland and left much to be desired, as did the soy milk and kale, but still we gave it a try." "And?" the big bad wolf said. "Sucked to high heaven, didn't it? I don't know why you wanted the candy so much, either, though. Meat is the way to go." He nodded and went back to eyeballing the match girl. "You're right, Mr. Wolf; it did suck to, uh, high heaven, as you say." "So what'd you do?" asked the frog prince. He was enraptured with the fine young storyteller and hoped his attentiveness would draw her away from that chump, Pan. "What-choo think we did? We kilt the bastard!" Hansel smiled for the first time, as this was his favorite part of the story. "Yes. We tricked him into climbing into the industrial-sized confection – confection with an ‘f’ - oven and then we lit him afire." "Fortunately, our friend, Pinocchio, was able to get us off, claimin' self-defense.” Hansel nodded, satisfaction on his face. “And then we took control of the cottage. Now, we let anyone who comes along eat to their fill. I’ve become quite the baker and am able to replace parts of the house in no time...with Hansel’s carpentry help, of course.” “And once we’ve got’em fattened up, we sell'em a seasoning Gretel came up with that you sprinkle on your food and it helps you to lose all the weight you put on.” “It’s called ‘Weight No More’ and is only $19.95 for an 8-ounce bottle.” Gretel smiled her most charmingly. Session over, Hansel walked off with Goldilocks and Rose Red, the better to try his newfound Bouncy-Bounce mattress with. Gretel was saddened to see Peter still hovering over Tinkerbell, but the frog prince, Navee, whispered in her ear, telling her tales about his long tongue, and Pan was quickly forgotten.
GOD’S NIGHTMARE ~ Act I ~ "Y'all know the story, right?" Luz sauntered stage right, her jazzsim - an otherworldly color best described as a mix of burgundy and black, somewhat translucent and shimmery - bustier molding to her form, the matching micro-skirt holding her hips like dear friends. "I got filled up with pride, tried to take over Heaven, and got kicked out...Actually, I got full of Michael's Pasta de Coiff – angel-hair pasta to you all - and that's what that first trumpet actually was!" Luz waited for the laughter to die down and gripping the microphone tighter, continued, "No, but really. Y'all don't know how lucky you are you're not in Heaven. You think thunderstorms down here are something; you don't want to be around after God has had some Beans de Yahweh!" Watching the crowd convulse in laughter, Luz tucked a lock of her derhig - a deeper black than anything seeable (or is that non-seeable?) on Earth - hair behind a french vanilla-like ear and smiled smugly to herself. These crazy fools thought she was putting on a show merely for their entertainment, when in actuality, she was continuing on with the dumbing-down of humans, making them even more ripe for her picking. The crowd's titters subsiding, Luz kept on with her story. "And don't even let me get started on Gabriel's Lambchops!..." At the mention of his prized angel's favorite dish, God rolled over on his bed of unicorn mane, sinking further into the soft material and picking up the dream from a different angle. ~ Act II ~ "So, there I was, in Heaven, beseeching God to see things my way." "Yes, yes, go on," Dr. Lucas encouraged, glancing at his patient, lying casually on the couch. "But He just wouldn't hear of it! I tried to tell him that as the leader of His choir and therefore worship, I too deserved some recognition. Was it not I that got the angels pumped-up and ready to praise? Was it not I that worked diligently to make sure all harmonies were ready before each show? He just sits on His throne all infinity and has no idea of all the work it takes to make a good W&B...worship & blues, I mean...song!" "And how did you feel about that?" "I was SOOOOOOOOOO pissed! Furious! Livid! Uriel's anger when someone messes with his poems is NOTHING compared to how upset I was!" "And that's when you fell?" "No. It actually took a while longer... I thought since God wouldn't see things my way, it might bolster my argument if I had some fellow ethereals speak on my behalf." "Other angels, you mean?" "Right." Luz took to twirling her dark ringlets around her six fingers. After a moment, she stood up and walked over to the psychiatrist's mirror. Looking at her reflection, she remembered how it had been and her iridescent eyes flashed. She could actually see the scene in the weird reflection and she continued her story. "But no matter how hard Garçon and Ambré and Isïana and the rest tried to make Him see things from our point of view, the harder He dug his heels in and refused." "So then?" "So...THEN we jumped." God grunted and rolled over. Normally he could awaken Himself whenever He desired, but this eon, He was transfixed by His memories and He couldn't pull Himself out. The nightmare continued. ~ Act III ~ Taking up her pen, Luz continued working on her autobiography. It was sure to be on the Bestseller's List for at least a millennium. 'So, there we were, all the angels I could muster and I, falling to another realm, the place He had called Earth. 'When we finally landed, we were fascinated by the feeling of the material under our feet. Up to that point, we had flown everywhere and had never felt such a thing as the ground. After what was probably a human decade, we came out of our haze and looked around. This world was a mess! It could never compare to the beauty that was our former home. The colors were pale mockeries of themselves and the sounds were muted, as if heard through dirty ears. I bent down and touched what I now know is grass and it stung my delicate fingers. Heaven had nothing so rough! If THIS was their home, I couldn't imagine how primitive and nauseating God's newest creation must be. Still, Earth was my home now and I had to make the most of it. I told my fellow rulers to fan out and make Earth ours, for God had Heaven and we would NOT allow His plans for Earth to unfold. 'After half a century or so, I came across a Garden. Looking between some bushes, I saw THEM. God's creation. Humans. As I looked at their ugly forms, I felt a deep and unabiding hatred form within myself. No! I told myself. God shall not have them. They are mine and they shall worship me! Concentrating, I took on the form of a newly-created creature, something called a snake. Making my way over to the woman when the man left her for a moment, I put on a friendly face and spoke. "Hello."' God yelled, "No!" Starting awake, He looked around. He was in the highest of Heavens, His sanctuary when Heaven got too busy. Blinking in its direction, He turned on His personal waterfall, with merely a thought. "Michael!" He called for his favorite angel. In an instant, the being appeared. "Yes, I Am." "I had a dream about Satan. What is she up to now?" "She is actually on-tour, masquerading as a world-renowned pop star. If you like, I can open the curtain, so You may watch." "Yes." Michael opened the thin curtain between Heaven and Earth - thin, that is, to beings such as themselves - and God peered down at his former best student. ~ Act IV ~ She pranced around onstage, her dancers bumping and grinding behind her. Clad in a flesh-colored leotard, as was the fashion of the day, she introduced her next song. "Thank you, thank you so much. Next is a song you all haven't heard before, so consider this its World Premiere!" The crowd went wild; new songs from Satin were always an event and they couldn't believe their fortune in being there for the newest and sure to be grandest. As Belzie started with a dope bass beat, the crowd started swaying, mesmerized. "I am you and you are me," she intoned, catching the frenetic wave, "You can't escape my clutches, for I am thee." She paused while the beat climbed higher still, the guitar and sax and drums adding to the intensity. "Wherever there is hatred, there we are...Wherever there is pride, there we are...My reach goes far, so far, so far..." Not realizing their beloved star was really Satan, the fallen star, the crowd danced along, never realizing the truth of her words.
©Trina High 2017
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These are works of fiction. With the exceptions of God and the devil, names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination (or are characters currently in the public domain) . Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.