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.   

Is Ben Carson abusing Benzodiazepines?

   
   "Is Ben Carson abusing Benzodiazepines?"

Benzos, as known on the streets--ya know soccer Moms,
All on XANAX so you can deal with marital qualms;
Anyway, Ben Carson seems low-energy and perpetually sedated,
For benzos are hypnotic and amnesia-inducing medicine that's related
To possibly forming things like Alzheimer's Disease--
You Bush League physicians, read your journals please!
Regardless, Ben Carson thought he was admitted to West Point--where they have pillow fights;
Specifically, he forges stories like he forgot them with amnesiac-like might.  

Saddam Hussein--reincarnation of Nebuchadnezzar?

   
   "Saddam Hussein--reincarnation of Nebuchadnezzar?"   
    
   Before Ancient Astronaut Theory became popularized, record store manager and quirky author Philip K. Dick, mystically touched by a pink hue of laser-like light, knew that the Middle East was an unearthly region, touched by the lesser gods and the Almighty God of the Multiverse Himself.  He (Dick) believed that there are mystical happenings upon this geographical region touched by God.     
   Indeed, the Sunni people (which make up most of ISIL) are demonically destroying our historical truth.  Some say that Saddam Hussein believed himself to be the re-fabrication of Nebuchadnezzar, wanting to restore Babylon (modern Iraq) to it former state of power, attempting, like Hitler, to unearth esoteric knowledge that would lead to Weapons of Mass Destruction.  Is this why W. invaded Iraq when the 9/11 attackers were Saudi Arabians?  What lack of truth is America concealing concerning galactic truth?
   I weirdly surmise God is locked in a battle against nefarious, demonic forces for control of the Earth, and that like mice who can be induced into violence by scientific means, so can humanity by the art of demonology.  
   So, until we fully comprehend the benevolence of Christ, merging with the Holy Spirit, birthing a universal knowledge as did Reagan with astrology or other means of mystical wisdom; then, we are doomed and paralyzed--not by the violence of men, yet by the diabolical possession that controls them.   

Vonnegut & Heller Symposium

    
   "Vonnegut & Heller Symposium"
   
   I believe it was at LSU years ago, the twisted yet hilarious Vonnegut and very ordinary Heller speaking about novelization and World War 2.  Heller even admitted Vonnegut had it tougher in World War 2, which of course he did, offering things like:  "First you think you're too good-looking to die; next, you think your girlfriend loves you too much to die; then, you realize--you are going to die in war."
   The best moment was when a pseudo-intellectual chick stood up, asking Vonnegut:  "In your book Bluebeard, who was the protagonist, when was the turning point, what metaphor did the climax represent, blah, blah, blah?"
   To which of course the wit of Vonnegut replied:  "Madame--I don't even remember writing the book."
   The crowd went wild with laughter.   

Bone Blood

   
   "Bone Blood"
    
THE BLOOD IS THE LIFE--said the Living Christ, soooo nice;
Indeed, constant blood transfusions have reversed the aging process in some mice;
As a result, I'm glad to have nearly bled out myself,
Getting infused by the fluid-like gore of souls other than myself--
What!?!
Like Percy Shelley repeating the same words as if the mentalist Jabba the Hutt,
And a coyote's bones never resonate that of a Werewolf Slut,
Though too--wolves are uncanny in being loyal,
And coyotes do whatever they please--maybe to your bliss foil,
But much more than that in the canine's Totem--
A giver of life--a new chance:  LOAD EM!
Regardless, eat the Lord's flesh and drink His blood;
The Transubstantiation is not symbolic, but the infinite life of a perpetual dove in a flood.   

How to change a paralyzed soul's diaper for years and still be happy

   
   "How to change a paralyzed soul's diaper for years and still be happy"
    
   Wearing diapers myself many a time, though with Ulcerative Colitis, it usually only holds 50% of the bloody runs; regardless, on the matter--I am an expert.  For years, living with a paralyzed soul, of course being diagnosed with Stage 4 Alzheimer's years ago by Bush League physicians, before my personal intervention, I have dealt with a twinge of anguish--but who really cares?
   And laxatives off the counter never work when their Parkinsonian medications block them up, causing them greater levels of high anxiety; thus, you must go to the underground to find better remedies for bowel evacuation.  And when it occurs, I am always there--nobody else seems to ever be.  So, you  simply pull the fecal stool out with surgical compulsion, wish I could produce a normally formed stool, from their rectal cavity; next, wipe them till an inviolate cleanliness; then, lift them, tearing your inflamed abdomen to further occurrences of bleeding; plus, dress them,
shower them, bathe them, brush them, feed them, do all laundry and dishes, dispense all medications religiously, and still yet--you are treated like a canine--"I am the dog, they all tried to beat."  Crooned an 80's rock band.
   Moreover, saving your family thousands of dollars since not using a professional facility, which I might need too, and getting spit on with hilarity can build a bit of unearthly might.  Yes, you must love these devils.  Those never pushing the wheelchair, taking the sick out for rides or lunch, which I spend my loser income on more than half the time, yet the falsehoods continue.  The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) would surely excommunicate men that allowed such macabre tragedy.  But I don't want any trouble.  And of course there's more.  Charlatan caretakers--the patient even complaining of them with cognizance when not doped up.  But who am I but the dog?  Take me for a walk Bernie Sanders.  Let the leash be long and loose.  Let me pounce on a rascally rabbit.  So, we must go to the axiomatic truth.  Still, there's more, buried deep in the geography of Nashville, one day to be unearthed.
   
VOLTAIRE:  "To the living we owe respect--to the dead, only truth."

And of course, stream of consciousness artistry is mistake ridden.  When college drop-out Kerouac brought in On The Road his publisher told him it was crap--full of bullshit structure and all the jive-turkey rest.  Kerouac pulled the script from his hand and boasted:  "These are words dictated to me by the Holy Spirit Itself!!!"