Existence Womb (3)

    
   "Existence Womb (3)"
    
   As if called by some radical mysticism, like possibly, Arch-Angel Gabriel went Sarah Palin (ROGUE) and gave literacy to Muhammad, Brother Puck came floating out of the Catholic Church, Saint Mary's, knowing mystically the suffering of Miriam and her Hebrew roots hidden beneath a family ashamed.  Yes Jesus claimed he knew:  "Salvation comes from the Jews."  And "Don't take the Holy Spirit from me God"  King David crooned in Psalms.  Miriam's eyes bugged out--knowing this was not normal.
   
BROTHER PUCK
Don't be phobic young madame--I am simply a layman.  We don't put jam on our toast like priests, nor have the elaborate funerals they do--it's all contained in THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV. 
   
MIRIAM
Feeling really weird.  Dude, I think I'm gonna bolt.

BROTHER PUCK
No madame--I insist you stay.  Look Catholicism was initiated the moment Christ died on the cross, way before Islam and Nietzsche's hatred of Martin Lucifer as mentioned in his ANTI-CHRIST.  Too, Vatican City has been around longer than Washington D.C.--we know more as Catholics; plus, General George was so stoned during the Revolutionary War, he had no idea what was going on, but I do.  It's the reptilians.  The snake in the Garden of Eden.  They've implanted you--are infusing you with anguish and anxiety and feeding off of it--it's how they get their food.
   
MIRIAM
Is everybody a freak in this life?  Starts weeping.

BROTHER PUCK
Yes, there are many circus people in the world, but they're the ones with the truth.   

Existence Womb (2)

   
   "Existence Womb (2)"
    
   Miriam was awake, at least her eyes were, scoping up and down, feeling the iniquitous torture of the demonic supernatural fluxing over and within her, paralyzing her body into monstrous fear and greedily feeding off of this negative energy of hers; indeed, she was metaphorical food for the haunting reptilians.  Regardless, like always--these paralytic episodes ended, Miriam thanking a God she didn't know too well.  Yeah, Jesus had been mentioned to her a few times by adulterous ministers and such; still, she knew she needed to muster some type of defense.  Remembered in literature class this senior year they discussed Tolstoy having had crafted some type of Gospel based on Jesus' Words:  "Resist not evil."  But how?  Why not beat the shit out of it--she surely wanted to.
   So, staggering to her bathroom, filling her mouth with her daily dose of Anti-Psychotics; next, using a mirror to observe further the bald spot behind her right ear, yet the pills were kicking in, and soon her brain was sedated to the effects of her once knowing the fear and trauma of it all.
   After scrubbing herself clean, dressing casually, kissing her Mom goodbye, Miriam sailed off to school on her 50cc scooter, made her way through the stereotypes of high school folk till coming upon her locker--it tagged with a note that blared in loud pink ink:  "DYKE!!!"
   Of course, this was from her ex-boyfriend, him totally loathing her humble chastity; plus, having used his physician father to poison her with reptilian witchcraft, an offshoot of ordinary Wicca, that mantra something like:  "Do no harm."   
   It was all too much for Miriam.  The human instincts, the fear, the shame; thus, she bolted from school, wanting to strangle Dr. Luke, her very decent psychiatrist--not because he wasn't helping, but exactly because he wasn't helping.  Helping in annihilating all of her adversarial entities.  So, further following her instincts, she floored the scooter to Saint Mary's Church, a nearby Catholic place of worship in her suburban region.  She parked outside in front of a statue of Jesus" Mother, the Virgin--a Tower of Shimmering Ivory--so the living statue seemed, and felt an immediate connection to the egg-giver of the supposed Messiah.  And she felt she needed to know.  To know the axiomatic truth.  

Existence Womb

   
   "Existence Womb"
     
   Miriam wasn't your garden-variety vegetation god; specifically, she might be an organic vegetation god--in futurity, as if it might have already been birthed.  Yeah, she pissed her hornafied boyfriend off, the adolescent thug wanting her chaste taste for things carnal and cruel--his father a deadly physician; plus, a reptilian member of a weird group of devil-worshiping quasi-Wicca types, it first leading to Miriam's dreams of bizarre sodomy; next, her beautician noticing a bald spot behind her right ear after Miriam complained to her psychiatrist of sleep paralysis.  A Freudian shrink, scholarly, understanding, knowing her reason for the visitations, but on the government-control list--what was he supposed to do?
   There was no way Dr. Luke could inform her of why the implant was put there, or why the sleep paralysis and dreams of butt-pirating were happening.  After leaving a job for helping the Men in Black cope with the reality of the bizarre supernatural, all Dr. Luke could do was provide scientific exorcisms.  Anti-Psychotics to sedate the cerebral curiosity of teenage Miriam, knowing if she spilled the factual beans on Twitter or other social media--it could lead to global catastrophe and start a crazy campaign for the cursed and molested--those affected by the fallen angels, them morphed reptilian and fighting for control over the population of Mother Earth.
   Thus, Miriam took up smoking.  Heard the American Indian would load the peace pipe with tobacco, take a suffering, deep inhalation; next, after soaking their insides with the anti-oxidant, release their prayers to Grandfather before passing out--and is there any record of lung cancer on the ancient American Indians?  Regardless, it soothed Miriam, along with the brain-sedating Anti-Psychotics, calming her to a bit of Buddha-like balance, but the negativity still erupted in volcanic fashion during motley nightmares and the sleep paralysis--nothing but eyes able to move while hallucinations, or actual reality, hovered around her harmless soul, as if a test subject, a tagged member of Vonnegut's zoo, but there was no Kilgore Trout to write her story for the magnanimous and always understanding underground of freaks knowing that demonic devils do exist.      

Confronting enmity by ministering

   
   "Confronting enmity by ministering"
    
Christ wisely spoke to the negativity of the Samaritan woman,
Knowing her personal story--a sign of a supernatural spokesman;
Indeed, He claimed:  "Pray for your adversaries."
Lest you become possessed by pride that does wend a soul weary.
Benjamin Netanyahu sincerely has more anxiety and stress than Obama;
He protects salvation, which comes from the Jew, Jesus, giving us the "Our Father" mantra;
Moreover, is Jesus the Torah in the Flesh?
A mystical synergy of Divine Law and ordinary man having a mesh?
And once God saw humanity through the inviolate egg of the Virgin Mary's eyes,
Perhaps only the wicked adder did He despise,
Knowing diabolical possession is axiomatic truth,
Like if someone knows a secret you never revealed that is totally uncouth,
Or speaks in a foreign language they never heard--
Verily, miracles of the Good God do the hubris-filled disturb.   

Muslim Boy At Starbucks

   
   "Muslim Boy At Starbucks"
    
   Insidiously plagued by night terrors and sleep paralysis (look it up), I often cruise the streets of Nashville after closing time for the drunks, not wanting to drive under the freedom of the big neon glitter when the crooked cops are on hopeful lookout to manifest their brutal bravado since they never got to start in gladiatorial sports when in high school or college, usually, and now, armed with weapons of mass destruction, their penile parts increase in size.  They love to trick the uniformed, raping them of their 4th Amendment Rights--never let them search your car; however, this may get you tasered and you might woefully wend into cardiac arrest--it happens plenty in this once Free Country.
   So, one early morning when the effulgent Moon Cheese was shimmering with a goddess-like beauty, I hit a local Starbucks in West Nashville, desiring the yummalicious taste of an icy cold Grande Frappuccino  with whip.  The barista was a young Muslim boy--I can spot the difference between a Hindu and a Muslim from a mile away--a canine-like telepathic thing; anyway, I immediately recognized my Abrahamic brother, intrinsically knowing he wasn't familiar with the Hindu Holy Text:  The Bhagavad Gita. 
   Anyhow, the young Muslim boy had an uncanny look of fear in his brown eyes, mentally surmising I hated him and his kind--a Monotheist Theological Type, somewhat like my Catholic Self, but I had no hate or savage desire to hurt him; moreover, I tried to loosen him up with my goofy, dog-like antics; plus, I was as polite as General George himself.  
   I wondrously wondered how his most likely poor family told him to get a job, work hard, and be a true American while there is so much rage targeted towards "Peaceful, True Islam"--a term never used by xenophobic Republicans, building up some seriously bad karma when they exit the womb of this life and enter the Otherworld.  
   Yes, diabolically possessed Muslims have killed thousands of Americans, but we've slayed millions--and did this resurrect our citizens, or did it spawn more demonology?  
   That young Muslim boy is a brave soul--again, my dog-like sense of perception picked up on this axiom, knowing he must be bullied at school, hated by myriads, and on a watch list by the American Government, which of course violates every American's Bill of Rights.  Yet this young Muslim boy gets up every morning, says his prayers to Our Abrahamic God; next, braves the day better than the rest of us.
   There's more murders in America committed by non-Muslims--just look at Chicago, or watch the bullshit mainstream media--if they spill those truthful beans, but rarely.  Regardless, Islam needs mollification--not hate pointed at it, especially the venerating Shiites.  As Mahatma Gandhi said to the people of his region during great turbulence:  "We are Hindu and Muslim--all children of God."
   Not only do I know the Torah and New Testament, but the Koran as well--the Arch-Angel Gabriel dictating it to the illiterate Muhammad.  A singular Surah in the Koran speaks about how God knows every atomic thought in your mind, and who you really are and what you really do--God knows everything about you it claims.  Thus, why can't we be like the living Christ, knowing Our own religion--the Beatitudes, like this:   "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God."  I guess we're just not that UP on Jesus nowadays.
   Look, we've hated the British, the Germans, and the Japanese--this too shall pass.  Or we could make it worse without cerebral symposiums, like Reagan had with Gorbachev, fighting a war from across a desk.  

Union Blue--friends of Faulkner

   
   "Union Blue--friends of Faulkner"
   
Disregard the pageantry and proud pomp
Of Confederate Generals torn apart by a loyal wolf pack on the anti-terrorist romp,
For Twain and Faulkner both wisely knew,
They were made Generals cause of the their wealth and social status hue;
Furthermore,
Colonel Sherman's (Union) jacket was bruised and like olive-green;
The Union Officers provided clothing for the enlisted, not garbing themselves only in brilliant keen;
Moreover, Gettysburg was a murderous slaughter,
Led by Lee--his size 4 feet ornamented, leaving the enlisted in frozen water.  
   
* * * * * * * *
   
In Faulkner's "Absalom, Absalom!" he wisely offered of his own south:
"Were they brave--yes.  Were they courageous--yes.  But they lacked pity and mercy!"   

Phobic Bravado

   
   "Phobic Bravado"
   
The wicked synergy of mutual neglect,
By those putting others in a more disabled debt,
Sipping their ostentatious wine and living on pride,
Allowing the elderly and ill into further anguish slide;
Thus, continue to neglect and pseudo-intellectually rape your brother, mother, and wife--
Thieve money from their SECURITY and worsen their life,
Caring more for yourself--your hungering hubris that fuels others' strife--
Because of self-celebration,
Falsely claiming great wisdom, though deaf and dumb about the Abrahamic Nation,
Offering profane slurs and steel chains that is the Southern Pride of slavery,
Getting fat off of this mutating gravy--
I've witnessed it all--
A sick child stolen from the North where the pentagram points truly tall,
Hijacked away from a Grandmother's longevity--her chain-smoking mouth,
Blowing prayers into the fiction of modern science as fire continues to wend south,
And the Almighty Father perishes from a broken heart
Cause stupid girlfriends and reptilian sales pitches informs her to get revenge and re-start
While your inflamed, vagrant child is the ONLY one who cares for you,
Ignited dignified by the anguished-hue of glimmering blue--
In more fist fights and unconscious, many times, made,
Unlike sand ni&$%r-dubbing marines ass-kicked while scoping tits at a bar to get sloppily laid,
And they think their scrotum huge, loving themselves,
Diving further into the many levels of Hindu hells--
You cannot stop the creation of the Author of Life,
Only execute as you do--being the villain of strife,
And bravado is fat lard, spawned by fear
Of others having sublimity and beauty so crystal-like and clear--
How wonderful is the boon of the Coyote Moon,
Killed in thousands, yet shape-shifting with life's billowing bark and song dog croon.