POWERFUL PRAYERS TO OUR LADY OF FATIMA

Indigo Samson (9)

   
   "Indigo Samson (9)"
   
   Ultimately, into JABBA THE HUTT'S PIE WAGON, and like two ladies gone preggers, Maxie and Samson agreed to order a large pizza with anchovies and multi-hued gummi bears.  It was delicious, odd, quirky, strong, fertile, and harvest--all simultaneously.  Then, after a shy burp, Maxie blushed, Samson swept his long mane back, and the twosome shared the synergy of a giggle; next, a little theological symposium of sorts ignited, Maxie probing:  "Doctors told me not to read the Old Testament, and that I should convert to Protestantism, for there is too much pressure on a practicing Catholic."
   Samson with:  "3rd leading cause of death are doctors and nurses.  Too, Jesus Christ gets all His best material from the Old Testament."
   Maxie swallowed one last cheesy gummi bear:  "I stopped going to the doctor after that.  I use my Priest as my therapist now.  But my father doesn't believe.  Mom and me are the only ones at Mass on Sunday."
   "Sounds like my situation."  Samson groaned.  "But remember--man lives not on bread alone, but on every word breathed from the mouth of God.  And God is everywhere.  Protestants lock God into the Bible.  They bind God.  Even a Ninja, a poor farmer, can learn how to fight against an imperialistic Samurai.  Do you watch cartoons?  I like Scooby-Doo, for kicks I'm talk'n."
   Maxie smiled:  "You're so weird.  But I like it.  I really like it."  

Indigo Samson (8)

   
   "Indigo Samson (8)"
   
   Samson and Maxie were strolling through the suburban sprawl of it all, and there were many a Chinese restaurant.  Samson didn't like noodles though.  
   Maxie had a volcanic ensemble of humility ornamented upon her nudity; specifically, a simple pair of jeans, tennis shoes, one color, white, and a blue sweatshirt with no logo, her pixie cut not dancing, as Autumn had not yet called in the wind.  Samson was conservative as well, not preppy, not rich man style, looking like a wimpish catalog character, but a gray shirt, jeans, and moccasins, all for comfort and to make sure he could use his reflexes.  Samson possessed photographic reflexes; moreover, the ability to see it done athletically; next, could precisely mimic it.  And he had watched enough football on the tube for all of his life.  Circuses are okay, but not to be imbibed forever.  Plus, if a guy hasn't put on the pads, why does he think he knows about football?  You gotta take a hit to have comprehension.  Experience is useless, unless a situation is met with that exact experience.
   It was getting darker earlier.  Virgo was about to align in mystical fashion, astronomically.  And knowing that you are in the Palm of God's Hand, well, it makes you not want to piss of the Divine Creator.  Fear will turn into knowing you have a father, beyond the themes of a polluted world.
   Maxie blessed herself, and Samson unbound his rich man's lectures, knowing . . .

She's Like Ali

   
   "She's Like Ali"
   
   Took Mom out in the sunshine all day, or I could say:  "Placed her underneath the illuminating torch of a daystar feeding Vitamin D."  Regardless, an hour and a half of muted sunlight; plus, one puff on an American Spirit cigarette, organic, and yes it helps Ulcerative Colitis--so there.  I gotta pick my poisons too.
   Got video.  Stoic, at home, and with a dog to pet, here and there.  Just sitting in a chair and relaxing, dealing with the deck she's been dealt--not complaining or having an agenda, like we do--yes, we, Mr. Agenda.
   Just take one day at a time as Christ commanded, for tomorrow has its own troubles.  What else is there, but a place to chill and not be frightened?  Big Daddy is in the video too, along with the wily dog.  Like Ali and Saint Pope John Paul the 2nd--this woman should inspire potent and vigorous hope.  Bravely enduring, and perpetually.  Pittsburgh Steel, suffering next to Christ, gallantly.  

Indigo Samson (7)

   
   "Indigo Samson (7)"
   
   Samson didn't have wheels; thus, he would have to ask his father to borrow the Audi; otherwise, use the car he regularly drove--Mom's mini-van, which would paint him further some rejected weirdo; however, weird does play on some stages, and yet Samson desired the turbo-charged muscle of his father's Audi, just to peel out for Maxie.  Every guy has got to peel out, at least once.
   His father was going old school, paging through, yes, an actual newspaper, and knew what a transistor radio was; anyway, Samson asked to intercede within his father's cerebral absorption of print media; next, probed:  "Dad, can I borrow the car; I got a date with a nice Catholic girl?"
   His father responded:  "Only if you get a haircut.  A man's haircut."
   Samson would take the mini-van.  What the hell.  It smelled better inside anyway, his mother's perfume and fragrance more charming.  

Indigo Samson (6)

   
   "Indigo Samson (6)"
   
   Their lockers, a few doors down, the bell rings, and the teens go scurrying like salmon upstream; however, Maxie and Samson are glued to the astonishment of being anchored before one another, fixated upon the soul-fire glow of each others' eyes.

MAXIE
I'm Maxie.  I'm Irish Catholic.  Well, I guess everybody in this school knows that.  I really like football as well.  Bit her bottom lip, hating to sound like a dork.  

SAMSON
Was calm and cool.  Glad and humbled she made the first exchange.  I know you, kinda.  Like your hair too.  A bluish tint to that jet black pixie cut.  And with the green fire of a jungle in your effulgent eyes.

MAXIE
Ecstatic that he was giving her compliments.  Didn't know how to play it.  Blushed; next, became herself.  I thought I was a voice crying in the wilderness.  That you wouldn't hear me.

SAMSON
I hear the vibes of oppression, and you are my people.  Want a date?  Pizza is always good.  They got that new place, JABBA THE HUTT'S PIE WAGON.

MAXIE
Oh, I love the PIE WAGON.  It's like you're reading my mind.

SAMSON
Not totally.  Just have enchanted empathy.  Something lost by most in this world. 

Indigo Samson (5)

   
   "Indigo Samson (5)"
   
   Samson Landon figured it out.  He had long hair; on the flip side, Maxie had a pixie cut.  He played on the football team, but had no social existence, and she went to Mass and was labeled a circus person.  Both different, yet similar.  Both rejected.
   He heard the snickers behind his back, and hers.  Incapable, weak, fag, zealot, weirdo, and one time--too fast for love, for those that remember hair bands in the 80's, and Samson did; he was old school.  For Heaven's Adoration--his mother named him after, well, do you know the story, and how they tried to bind him?  But the ropes melted off like wax.  Yes, he was just fixated.  Fixated upon something else nobody could see.  He wasn't psychotic.  Just didn't have his head in his cell phone every five seconds; plus, he listened to a transistor radio.  He knew as well--Maxie was much the same.  In love with God.  There was no denying the existence of God--for either of them.  That's why he was going to talk to her, after all this time.  Leave the door open, always.