Crystalline Cool (14)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (14)"
   
   Duncan's Dad was having a twinge, or more, of guilt.  While his son had stood steadfast during his mother's illness, the old man had run at first, phobic concerning the negative energy of it all, yet returned before the end, helpfully holding his wife's wilting body in his loving arms; nevertheless, that initial lack of courage had haunted him, of recent, in his dreams, making him lose a bit of his stoic, Native humor, and once again--guilt was upon him.
   All the old man did was imbibe chocolate milk, which fueled him with more girth and nutrition; plus, chain-smoke cheap cigars; regardless, he still felt like he was near death.  So, as it goes, the Native man went out into the woods behind the house, laid there for days--no food and no tobacco, waiting to die.
   Duncan was worried and concerned about his Dad's absence, but had witnessed it before; thus, kept digging ditches in isolation save the company of the loyal Golden Retriever dubbed Roadkill; still, he was weirdly worried.
   Then, in a state of mystical dreams, Duncan felt contacted by Saint Roch, the Patron Saint of dogs and the falsely accused, knowing the Saint too had once went out into the woods to die after contracting the plague; therefore, Duncan went hunting.
   With Roadkill's nose on the prowl, he followed the holy hound into the woods, finding his father naked and dwindling to death, uttering prayers in his Apache language.  Immediately, Duncan knelt down next to his father, and assisted by Roadkill's licks of love that made his father's spirit shine, Duncan gave the old man some distilled water from a bottle he was carrying, and within minutes, the old man's spirit of glee and humor jumped back into him, his voice offering:  "Saved by a noble beast and a ditch-digging son, but I don't see a dilemma here.  Heck, we should go back into the house and watch some Barney Miller  reruns."
   Assisting the old man to his feet, Roadkill's tail wagging, the dog pleased with itself--the threesome made their way home, brewing up some green tea with the Stevia leaf, and indeed, Barney Miller metaphors brought the family to laughter and life, resurrecting the test for the quest.  It was all cool.  

Crystalline Cool (13)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (13)"
   
   Duncan awoke in a heavy dripping of fear beads.  A nightmare; specifically, mean girls singing to him, calling him a dunce.
   He sought out his father's wisdom, on the cigar, puffing away as he observed the black and white, always with the fertility of rabbit ears.  He told the old man his vicious dream.
   Dad stated:  "The vibrations of capitalism saying you should be ashamed for not building their wicked castle.  So, make your fears phobic concerning you.  Show them the true, diligent serf.  Walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and--LIGHT IT UP!!!!  People fear the number 13, a trickster god, him the thirteenth born, but the icy yet fertile Virgin always comes on the 13th.  The trick is on those who merge with the machine, stealing away man into the abyss of no imagination."
   Duncan thought he felt better.  Next, found Roadkill, and the holy hound licked his metaphorical wounds till they sparkled, shining into a state of better health.  

Sister Cabbage

   
   "Sister Cabbage"
   
   When you're considered a cabbage, people attach things to you that sometimes belong, missing the unseen, and seeing the unseen, though not knowing if they do or not--pure puzzlement.  Like with Blake--was he a crank or a master of poetic mysticism?  And look at Francis Bacon, him really being Shakespeare, as might a cabbage say.
   They read you without merit--in a state of being under the bumfuzzle of it all.  
   So, Sister Cabbage read not the dictionary, but loved her thesaurus, while her college roommates would drink heavy spirits and get naked; next, into tickle fights, she would be finding a new way to order a chicken sandwich at the drive-thru, saying to the clown face:  "I'll have a yellow belly sandwich, and make it grilled, not fried."  

Pro-Life or Pro-Planet?

   
   "Pro-Life or Pro-Planet?"
   
   Without Earth--there would be no life.  Republicans are usually pro-life; on the other hand, Democrats are usually pro-planet.  Therefore, what to do?  Does the Pope not warn us of climate change and further terrestrial disasters?
   And Al Gore has said:  "The Earth has a fever."  And why do they bother Obama about not being born in this America, when Al Gore wasn't even born on the planet.  Some sources describe him as a shape-shifting reptilian from the planet Uranus.  Well, maybe not Uranus, but I'm sure you're picking up what I'm putting down.
   Oh well, there's always the British.  You should hear them describe the mythology and metaphors of Star Wars.  Like the seeming Limey, though not, William F. Buckley, once chewing on his pen as if more cerebral than he actually was; anyway, the real Brits say:  "Solo, he is a swashbuckler."  

Crystalline Cool (12)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (12)"
   
   Duncan awoke on All Saints' Day, having received dream wonders infused with the Good News, and not exactly the King James Version; nonetheless, it was much, something like:  "I am the vine, and you are the branches--if you remain in Me, and I in you; next, you will bear much fruit; however, apart from Me--you can do nothing."   He breathed, in through the nose; then, out through the mouth, which can defile a man--only that which goes outwards, relatively, in a vociferous manner.   
   And as always, in his mystical moments of being dazzled by Divine Powers, the old man burst through the door, igniting a Native People never to be forgotten, with that stoic humor, saying, probing, amazing:  "How do you say BIG MAN in Apache, Duncan?  You remember the Super Friends don't ya?  Eh-neeek-chock.  And I'm still only as big as Doug Flutie, huh?  But you and that little shepherd, King David, tougher than King Saul, him head and shoulders above the rest, huh?"
   Duncan could not ignore that his Dad needed friends; moreover, that that job was solely his and his alone.  So, he turned to his Dad's weird grin, asking:  "Ya wanna go to the junkyard today?  For don't ya think I could use a day off work?"
   His Dad smiled and lit up a cheap cigar.  It had the scent of artificial strawberries.       

Crystalline Cool (11)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (11)"
   
   Duncan and his Dad slept till Halloween night, getting no spooky visitors out in their pastoral proximity, way beyond the perimeter of love's handshake; nevertheless, Duncan felt not forsaken, for asymptotic love haunted him, and if enough of the angels and saints were manifest by his vivid gravity of the mind, pulling them downwards, unto him, with sweet charity; next, all was well.
   Optimism:  Holding your head up like an angel of light when they tear you down, or manifest the opossum Totem, or do both, being the balance of truth, but love does eternally outshine, and that light is meant for the long-suffering, punished due to the snares of the enemy--Duncan still praying for the souls in Purgatory, on his knees in his little, Franciscan-like room, Roadkill on the floor next to him; however, the old man burst in, boldly declaring:  "Son, I'm going as a Dictator for spooky Halloween. Gonna put a potato on my phallus and be Fidel Castro."
   Duncan couldn't help but laugh; then, the shame came, but it seemed, oddly, that the laughter had somehow helped the souls in Purgatory feel the ignition of mirth towards that brightness of Eternal Light--Jesus:  In Your Joys!!!

Crystalline Cool (10)

   
   "Crystalline Cool (10)"
   
   Duncan unearthed his lack of agitation and frustration, meekly digging deeper, seeing the rear-view reflection of it all, Roadkill loyally beside him.  He remembered when Dad left after Mom got sick; indeed, the old man was like everyone else.  But the pseudo-caretakers, cackling over Satanic books, making his mother cry, all the false testimony, while he was the only one to bathe, brush, feed, change, labor, suffer--the rest, living their lives, not carrying their cross as commanded.
   Duncan knew evil had to exist.  He Socratically observed as they thieved away his mother's medication, or gave too much upon his absence, him doing everything to preserve the right to life, though contemplating taking his own life, though not a hypocrite, as the odds were crushing him down--a myriad of bullies constantly encompassing him, yet numbers don't matter in war as Sun Tzu knew.   
   He prayed for them to see the mother holding the son once off of the bravery of Calvary conquered, a unique and quixotic type of courage, misunderstood.  
   But Dad came home, paid attention to his son, and hit a home-run concerning the administration of love to a spouse, fighting, fighting, fighting, with his Native American ways.
   It was all over now, and both Dad and him were hated for holding the eagle's feather to the heavens, crossing the threshold of hope.  
   Duncan remembered the old man's unique wit, him having said:  "The nice thing about senility--you can hide your own Easter eggs."