Existence Womb (12)

   
   "Existence Womb (12)"
   
   Miriam thought of the Mujahideen in Afghanistan and how the Brotherhood of Evil, fueled by the Saudi Arabians continued during W.'s watch, oil for weapons and bullshit, THE CLASH punk rockers mystically united with 1980's truth, resonating futureways, and now, ISIL ranked quasi-eternal by Twitter, Facebook, and all the reptilian propaganda to further propel the celebrity of us unknowns--Barbara Walters does not know the most 15 fascinating people; God has his own celebrities, and this wicked thirst to be personally celebrated and heard while not minding the existence of God--a Multiverse is definitely behind the Big Bang (just a weak theory), proving Aquinas' point of exterior propulsion blasting consciousness into super-symmetrical creation, knowing the Multiversal God was:  SIMPLY--ALWAYS HOLDING ON--WILLED BY WICCA-LIKE BELIEF--JESUS BOASTING ON BELIEVING--EXISTENCE CRAFTED BY BELIEVING, even before the conception of the lesser gods and their superior cognizance.
  Still, Miriam was relieved by the truth of it all.  The reptilians, that snake in Eden's sanctuary, God can't even take a nap for Christ's sake, and their Trojan Reptile slithers on in, full of worse than Pandora's Box--them Greek gods always doing hanky-panky and full of prank playing mischief, when the 13th god of them Nordics was true mischief, yet full of jocularity to entertain, while Satan entertains not, even losing the name of Lucifer, as went his further blasphemy to not submit to man, an assistant of God's lonely experiment.

"Saint Uriel the Arch-Angel of Justice--please, I beg of you, come to me!!!" Miriam invoked the bravest and boldest, though knowing, unlike Raphael, Uriel was not keen with a sense of humor.    

And she sang:

All the metaphors of life are contained in a season of Seinfeld,
And Saint Nicholas mutated a freak reindeer for Christmas to be healed;
Alas, I still believe in the fruitcake magic of a God making Earth's lifeforce mostly beetles,
For what good is the flu shot if you can't trust the government and children are phobic of needles;
Moreover, Mother Russia with NATO nukes on their perimeter
When Kennedy went wacky after Cuba nearly got a nuclear scimitar;
Regardless, swing the slow turtle in the breeze,
And know that death is enlightenment if it is birthed from the glamour of long-suffering ease.   

Existence Womb (11)

    
   "Existence Womb (11)"
    
   Miriam lit up the prayer-giving aspects of organic tobacco next to her mother on the couch--a Bing Crosby movie was playing along with Bob Hope as a sidekick on the tube--it had something to do with Sinbad the Sailor before all Muslims were demonized and bad deals done by W. assisting Saudi Arabia with the increasing iniquity of oil, money, and greed.  Then, a knock at the door; next, it opened, Dr. Luke (Miriam's Dad) walking through casually, sauntering with a handsome Glenn Ford cowboy swagger, that dude always getting aimed at by six-guns cause other cowboys were jealous of his androgynous looks that made the ladies swoon.  Whatever--it was all cool now, the threesome, the family of Jew and Gentile on the couch crying, hugging, and the conversation initiated into a wending symposium of weird.
   
DR. LUKE
Miriam, I have always been close but so far; nevertheless, I am here now--here to stay.  I brought with me some turmeric-derived medicine for your mother's neurological condition--it will resurrect greater cognizance.  The Universities out West are transcending even the Ivy League institutes, but you didn't hear that from me since I went to Princeton; regardless, I brought you some herb-derived medicine as well.  The same kind General George was using, and with those same fibers the first American flag was forged; then, General George left after his second year as President, to be replaced by a sublime doppelganger of sorts.  Mr. Washington went on a great adventure of healing his inflamed gums by chewing herbs cooks in butter, knowing the Indian seed had miraculous and benevolent potential--the reason the Southern States won't allow it, knowing people will begin to ask questions.  This herb-derived medicine will enlighten you to a sense of Krishna-like strength, where as like the young David--you can slay giants.
   
MIRIAM
Why now Dad?  I mean, you had so much time?  And it feels bizarre even calling you that, like incest or something.
  
MIRIAM'S MOM
The Grackle will come no more.  Now I will see the Rook, and remember my homeland of England.
  
DR. LUKE
Yeah, where so many reptilians have gotten into the royal bloodline.  Otherwise, it's a jolly and fabulous place.  But whatever--give your Mom the new medicine Miriam, and you take yours.  Look, they can hear us, but because of the stones in this house, and a device crafted by an excommunicated Rabbi who was an autodidact, building mystical shields from herbs, stones, and a hint of wisdom from the original KARATE KID  movie, I can scramble their complete knowledge--and when I go to my death my precious and beautiful daughter, it will pass to you.  But take the new medicine, designed by God himself--the human body was built with receptors for psychoactive herbs and the sublimity of spices.  Things will get better, and I will present to you allies in futurity.
  
MIRIAM
Like Wookiees?   Miriam snorting a joke--just happy to have a Mom and Dad, at the moment.   

DR. LUKE
You would be surprised at the truth of THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN fighting Bigfoot in the 1970's.  Like with myth, our weirdest culture has truth to it.     

Existence Womb (10)

   
   "Existence Womb (10)"
    
   Miriam couldn't believe what Dr. Luke had confessed to her--it was all soooo very bizarre, yet tranquil.  Especially the Chiastolite, wearing it as an amulet of sorts to ward off the reptilian paralysis of slumber with sodomy, implantation, monitoring, and all the rest for the chosen to be blessed demonic or victimized as slaughtered lambs--those slimy, cold-blooded bastards wanting to tear away at the immaculate flesh of the lovely flock.
   So, Miriam raced home on her 50cc scooter, again, pushing it to the redline, not minding that the engine may overload as it shot black smoke from its wimpy muffler, buzzing non-eloquently, like a beehive disturbed by some wandering child thinking it a pinata. 
   As she entered her house, having safely anchored the scooter on its kickstand, her Mom was deliriously talking to herself about the Grackle again, that mysterious bird, like a Rook but highlighted with blue hues atop its head, as if a halo granted from the shimmering rainbow praise of God and gifted to the Saints like the little fool for Christ, Saint Francis himself. 
   Miriam took a sweet hold of her mother, shaking her in a gentle, almost baby-rocking fashion, wanting the truth of her life, and the lives of all others manipulated and monitored to be unearthed, asking gently:  "Mom, why didn't you tell me Dr. Luke is Dad?  Why didn't you tell me?"
   Her Mom, saliva dripping forth from a mouth corrupted by neurological distress muttered:  "That crazy, old Hebrew man.  What a lovely way to make love; next, fade away into government cover-ups.  He did it Miriam, my child.  He finally passed the torch onto someone who can make a difference."
   Miriam was like:  "What me?  I'm just a naive teenager with visions."
   Mom back with:  "So was the Virgin Mary.  Now wrap that Chiastolite around your neck, and blast off to God.  Oh my--it's Grackle season I do believe."    

Lovejoy Murdered

   
   "Lovejoy Murdered"
   
Disabled, yet neglected;
Nevertheless, karma is a bitch, and your life by the Multiverse rejected;
Indeed, feed the sick, change their diapers, lift them to and fro, I am knighted,
Carrying the woefully weary in my emaciated, disabled arms
While you wish for her death and my disability to be further disarmed--
An attorney full of neglect and envy--
It's not my fault you are the mirror image of a pint-sized Rick Perry, not lengthy--
It has all been on my bleeding large intestine's back;
Moreover, night terrors, Sleep Paralysis, OCD with Tics--praying for a heart attack;
Plus, Ulcerative Colitis and blood transfused,
Suffering in chronic pain while you further like the disabled to be abused--
And I'm penning this in like 5 minutes, a quicksilver galore,
While you ride the ridicule of Babylon's Whore,
Saying I have no 1st Amendment Rights, and denying my ill-fated plight
All because you flash the Johnny Football sign of money being God and the Almighty Right,
Though you never put on the pads, taking sweet hits that taste like golden honey--
Thinking our synergy of suffering is hilarious and funny--
Unethical, poltroon-like, and propelling neglect,
Did I mention the Americans with Disabilities Act for the sick sect?
Regardless, it all will come back on you,
By the diabolical demons that haunt; still, they can't tame your inner shrew,
And I feed, fold, brush, bathe, walk, talk to the sick as if they're actual souls
While the rest of you pay your reptilian tolls,
Enjoying the savor of being drunk, fat, and totally stupid,
Educated by nonsense, thinking Turks, Persians, and Arabs better if killed and polluted--
What crimes you have committed,
All on my back while with porn and wine-like adultery have you submitted--
It's all a murder of lovejoy,
Because you're corporeally unpleasing to the mirror's beholding eye.   

Obama--don't fear the attacking bulldogs!

   
   "Obama--don't fear the attacking bulldogs!"
   
   As Biblical Prophecy forecasts Anti-Christs and the End Times--it reminds us:  "Young men will have visions; old men will dream dreams."
   Through my night terrors and occasional Sleep Paralysis, sometimes I have normal REM sleep and drift off casually into the sea of enlightenment.  One such dream was of President Obama coming to my assistance; next, a bunch of angry bulldogs charged him, and the President of the United States ran away from me in terror.  According to some dream interpretation, attacking bulldogs represent that you will cower to unjust laws and hecklers--I hope this is not true with President Obama.  As Nietzsche boldly and madly proclaimed:  "To hell with the critics!"
   Newly forged Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau, in my opinion, is truly Davidian.  Damn handsome, a fighter, and not easily bullied, bravely changing the laws that should remind us of the great Psalm in the Old Testament:  "And herb for the service of man."
   60 Minutes, the only worthy news show televised by the mainstream media, showcased the crooked aspects of narcotic swine last night.  As always, law enforcement continues to corrupt, enforcing unjust laws, and breaking the legal ones.  Check out last night's episode--if you dare.
   Canada's Trudeau will be, in my opinion, a regal fighter against all unjust incarceration and will
further propel the Great White North into a land of non-violence and freedom.  He could easily kick Bill O'Reilly's ass in an all out fist fight, and will courageously assist the downtrodden.

Existence Womb (9)

   
   "Existence Womb (9)"
     
   Miriam sat across from Dr. Luke, a bit pissed off, as if her coyote instincts were spiritually informing her that Dr. Luke was holding back something very imperative; nevertheless, she would BEHAVE BABY--doing her best Austin Powers denial of carnal cravings.
   
DR. LUKE
So, how are we doing this month?
  
MIRIAM
We're okay.  I mean, if those reptilian bastards pinning me down every night are just fabrications of my psychotic mind.
  
DR. LUKE
Remembering the oath he had taken to "remain silent" for the Men in Black.  Just keep taking your medicine.
   
MIRIAM
I am.  Religiously.  Still, I know there's truth in what I experience.  And I'm sick of it.  Look Dr. Luke, I know you're trying to help me in the American way.  You want me to go to school; next, college--get a bullshit education, which allows for a decent job since college graduates are the only ones assumed smart by other college graduates.  Too, that I should spread my virtue and take a fat dick, being a normal teenage girl.  But I won't.  I'll sacrifice all the creature comforts and my own life for the truth.
   
DR. LUKE
The truth can be found in school.  And I can't keep writing you excuses.  You need to finish high school and go to college.  Get a social life and mix it up.  It will make the Sleep Paralysis, well, less paralyzing.

MIRIAM
But infusing myself into the nonsense of regular life is bullshit--I'm not regular. But maybe I should hate all the Muslims and believe the poor aren't oppressed and that families give a shit about their elderly.  Hell, you can buy a gun in all 50 States, but herb-derived medicine is restricted save out westwards.  What, the rest of the country doesn't want enlightenment?  Wants to keep people fat, drunk, and under control?
  
DR. LUKE
You sound like an anarchist.

MIRIAM
Is it not the only form of government never tried?  I'm sorry.  I just know the truth is not contained in college or at a frat party where when a girl squirts she thinks it is true love.  I want to be the wandering Jew.  The Leopold Bloom knowing that an Irish curse doesn't damn a man.

DR. LUKE
You've been reading Joyce?

MIRIAM
Joyce, Faulkner, Twain, Pynchon--everybody cool that I can get my hands on.  Vonnegut, or one of his characters believed that all the secrets of life are contained in THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV, and I read that too--Alyosha was my favorite character.  Anyway, I don't know why I've been marked by the beast, but please, fucking help me go down the path I want to go--even if it is the death of me.

DR. LUKE
Removes his glasses.  Miriam, there's something I have to tell you . . .

Luke 17/Psalm 51--forgiving repentance; plus, more Holy Spirit sentiment

   
   "Luke 17/Psalm 51--forgiving repentance; plus, more Holy Spirit sentiment"
    
   Consider not my words then, but of the fighter/bard David and that of the Divine Christ--the King and the High King, beyond our comprehension as we are soulwashed by the singularity of terror; moreover, plagued by the plurality of fear.
   
Luke 17, verses 3 & 4:
   
Take heed to yourselves:  If thy brother trespass against thee, rebuke him; and if he repent, forgive him.  And if he trespass against thee seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again to thee, saying, I repent; thou shalt forgive him.
   
Psalm 51, verses 10 & 11:
   
Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.  Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy holy spirit from me.  
   
There is always more . . .