"Robin and the Rabbit"
Yesterday, before the Full Moon did arrive, I got some flying and hopping critters on the turf of my surrounding suburban sprawl--damn boy, they got dynamite down the street, building up the money structures, and forcing the animals to recklessly reside near quasi-concrete jungles.
Anyway, the Robin: In Medieval Europe, lore explains that the Robin flew at Christ's crown of thorns, attempting to tear it away from Our Lord; however, he only managed to damage his own breast; thus, wears red there, as a badge of honor. Too, Robins want us to trust our instincts, expressing our independent creativity--so goes the metaphysics and magic of it all.
The Rabbit. Boy can they dodge and dance like Flutie in the pocket up on the Canadian grasslands, representing thunderous fertility and yet open vulnerability. Though boxed in, plenty of Rabbits have been known to kick their way out of a predator's razor sharp claws or ferocious fangs.
All in all, be grateful for nature; moreover, the infinite beauty of creation. All painted upon our sweet observations--if we take the time to look.
I know these pictures aren't fabulous, but zoom in fella.
"Pic sux; regardless, Chipmunk Totem Energy"
When the chipmunk doth arriveth in your life, things will get chatty; moreover, protect your nuts, like an astrology-fearing Scorpio, and let the adventure begin.
You will elegantly enjoy sharing your eloquent stories of resilient survival, for being such a small critter and still getting by--you are awesome!
And why would an instinctive dog put those precious brown eyes underneath the ferocious grip of its predatory incisors? Don't ask this dude.
And work with your hands, gathering your art and hiding a heavenly habitat for your treasure, for as Christ knows: "Where your heart is, your treasure is also."
Gather and create art for futurity's sake. Collect and talk, not greasy diner gossip, but the extravagance of existence, and always--an appreciation and reverence for life, hiding or coding your literature, like Pynchon and Faulkner.
"Flower Moon, 2016"
Tonight, which is May 21, 2016--we have a Full Flower Moon, for the flowers are busily blooming as the official time of summer cometh; moreover, this Full Moon is also known as the Full Corn Plenty Moon or Milk Moon.
Too, we can dub tonight's occasion a Blue Moon, which usually means two Full Moons in a single month; thus, some astronomers don't agree that tonight is an official Blue Moon, but a seasonal Blue Moon; however, since it is the 3rd Full Moon when a season contains four Full Moons--it's all cool.
The metaphysical types consider this a cosmic sign to handle well crafted commitments on a spiritual level; plus, focus on the intangible aspects of Divine Love.
It might all seem so gay (happy) and Farmer's Daughter-like, but the werewolves will be out, at least within the theater of a Lycanthrope's beastly brain.
"Liberty's Sparkle (25)"
Faye got in on the Bud Light Lime drinking--Liberty had brought it to Tom's, thinking he would partake of the citrus-like spiked brew, but he stuck with his Diet Sprite and tobacco--Liberty didn't sneak one coffin nail; however, Faye both drank and smoked, being a bit lewd and kinda/sorta grotesque in her carnal descriptions of medieval dwarfs and NBA players, to which Tom replied: "I guess I'm in the middle then, like Buddha."
Faye with: "You're nothing like Buddha pizza boy, but have the neurosis of a a Woody Allen movie--are you Jewish?"
Tom, not a bit hurt, but pleased with the compliment as he took it, for he enjoyed the
Hebrew classics; plus, had a Smokey and the Bandit Trans Am model he had constructed with crazy glue in his trailer's bedroom, and said: "Even European guys, now here in America for a while, can be a bit neurotic--it's all part of my charm."
Liberty broke up the non-toxic symposium leaning towards a pernicious pissing contest, stating: "We should call up "Froggie's Feet" and order some corn dogs."
Faye, being herself, blurted: "That is nasty girl. And why are you thinking about corn dogs anyway?"
Liberty blushed, but Tom brightened with a stronger glow of crimson, saying: "While a corn dog is a rat on a stick, sometimes a corn dog is just a corn dog."
Liberty lifted her blonde upwards, taking her forest-green eyes and smiling their mystical brilliance in her new boyfriend's direction; next, she glared at Faye, but broke off the faked seriousness by offering a toothy grin--all was okay, and they did order the corn dogs--Faye ate two; moreover, it only cost them $.5.93 in wrinkled paper and change.
"Old Milwaukee Beer Commercial, 1980's"
Way back in them Southern Baptist years, yearning to be a man and date a Playboy Bunny with morals and mirth; plus, plenty of cool couth and love for her lover, there was this Old Milwaukee Beer Commercial, where manly men drank beer and cooked lobster or some meaty-tasting shit, and it was probably lathered in hot butter to make a savory and slippery mix for the digestive tract.
Anyway, these dudes in the commercial said: "Ya know guys--it doesn't get any better than this."
Well, in the 5th grade, my Southern Baptist teacher replied to us concerning our need to be Charismatics, enjoying Scotch On The Rocks in Heaven, saying: "Yes, yes it does get better than beer and lobster."
I think so too. Lobster cuts through my colon like a chainsaw.
"Liberty's Sparkle (24)"
Faye was acting like a honey baked ham, goofballing it up, monopolizing the talk, just to get comfortable with herself; moreover, Liberty and Tom picked up on her vibrant vibe, laughed and listened, sweetly so.
Faye was like mystically whispering to her supernatural (normally ultra natural, for her) friends and both star-glimmering night and effulgent Moon: "Bonanza Jellybean was sexually in tune--I'm just not ashamed; I own who I am."
Tom asked: "Who is Bonanza Jellybean?"
Liberty blurted out, and to somewhat selfishly show she knew on a literary level: "EVEN COWGIRLS GET THE BLUES, a classic novel, quirky and elegant. Jellybean suffers a type of crucifixion, metaphorically, and the book is a lovely ride through the peaks and valleys of life."
Faye took over again, saying: "I've never been with a girl, but it haunts me."
Tom was like: "So, I' safe on that one--I can dig it."
They all blushed, and Faye even smiled, meekly accepting the benign jocularity aimed in her adored direction, knowing they were crafted by a sweet and merry heart, in whatever kinda but definitely a nice way.
