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Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Thursday, June 22, 2017

A Romantic Glow

When I burn this place to the ground
It will be with a rueful smile
A grimace if we are being honest
Mostly from the heat
Since I'll be close by to watch

The flames dance in the night
Popping and chewing up scenery
A couple of mice running in fright
And a couple of things for me and you

A nice plaid blanket and cushions
For us to watch the show
Triangle sandwiches and sunglasses
To feed and protect us from the glow

Crack open a bottle of wine
Something red and fermented
Plucked on a frosty morning from the vine
On a small vineyard in Upstate

We don't need to call the fire department
Since we are the last two people around
Sipping, snacking, and basking
A better partner could never be found

When the day comes that I burn this place to the ground




Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Schadenfreude 2.0

Screams pour out of your handheld mobile device
Thick as molasses
Dark as the Devil's heart
Piercing my ears like mom's knitting needles

As you watch someone's anguish
After they ran over their own dog
As you watch the pain
Caused by a missed skateboard trick
As you watch the fear
From an especially cruel prank

The schadenfreude is strong with you today
With just the tiniest bit of spittle
Catching the sixty watt bare bulb light
And reflecting back in my direction
From where it nestles into the corner
Of your half opened mouth

The pleasure you are sucking in
From all the anguish fear and pain
Shown to you for almost free
Any time of the day
Is slowly filling you up
Pushing out empathy
Drowning the compassion
Kicking your pity right in the ribs

I fear the person that may come out the other side
After the continuous Fail Army video feeding frenzy

Will you still comfort me when I am sick?
Would you help me if I fell?

I don't even fear that you'd laugh at me
No

A greater worry is the lustful look that may cross your face
Lips slowly parting
Drops of spittle gathering
As you salivate
Eager to take in my pain fear and anguish
As I put on a personal show
Just for you
And your Schadenfreude two-point-oh



Monday, May 22, 2017

Aluminum Foil Influence

There's a thread of conspiracy
Sewn right into my headgear
Over under and whipstitched
In contrasting color
Constantly constricting my thinking
Slowly drawing itself tight
Until the blood flow is just about right
For alternative thinking to take place

It isn't very false
And it isn't very true
It's totally alternative
And tells me what to do

Nine sources tell me one thing
While one tells me another
Logic says one thing
But my gut screams "However...."
That one thing seems to comfort my thoughts
Coddling my mind
In cheap velour
From the bargain bin at K-mart
A blue light special of an idea
So I'll latch right onto that

It isn't very false
And it isn't very true
It's totally alternative
And tells me what to do

My head is now an alternative shape
Thanks to that too tight hat of mine
Made of shiny upcycled tinfoil
And whispering secrets to me all the time
I'll not question its authority
I'm way past that now
Two miles past the military checkpoints
Heading into Area Fifty-One
Helped by the invisibility afforded me
By that low tech high magick
Too tight sparkling custom made
Tightly stitched protective tinfoil hat

It's not very false
And it isn't very true
It's totes an alternative
Telling me what to do




Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Stink Squared

Walking from my favorite stall in the bathroom
Just as I emerge from the stagnant
Harsh chemical cleaner cloaked scent of man shit
My nostrils detect a hint of grilling meat
Only to have that faint whiff crushed
By the reality of a still almost lit
Marlboro man's mustache accessory cast-off
Wetly smoldering crushed cigarette stump in the trash

The desire to eat cooked flesh leaves me instantly
As vomit creeps up my throat
But I swallow firmly
And dutifully wash my hands
Before walking out and away

- FDR18APR2017

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Color Transition

Your blues have become reds
As your painted fingernails move
Gouging gnarled gashes
Deeply into the skin
Just what the doctor ordered
All that depressed devotion
Better going out than keeping in

Your grays have become golds
Mixing up chemicals in your lab
Draping the tiny room in fumes
Smoky streamers of a million dreamers
Former attendees from Alchemy U.
Celebrated and berated in portioned parts
All chasing the same dream of Pb to Au

Your yellows have become greens
Sprouting up depositing butter on the nose
After decorating the lawns
Of the not so rich and famous
Those who just can't mow on time
Harvesting a flowery little harvest
Making the finest dandelion wine

Your oranges have become violets
After a violent collision
With a deep and stormy sea
Ebbing into a sailor's delight
As the first stars wink into being
Dying light's purple fading to night
Till the nothing is the only seeing


Tuesday, March 28, 2017

The View From Seat 4-A

Clouds slip by 
A constant conveyor belt of textured fluff
Mostly the regular texture of old imprinted wallpaper stretched tight
With the odd area resembling something or another
Here is a duck head
Over there a castle tower
A nearby left handed guitar attacking the gates
With rock and roll

Forehead pressed to the window
I watch the seemingly solid vapor landscape pass me by
Quicker than it did in my youth
From my favorite seat
On the old orange couch
Close up to the picture window
By the lake

As the sun proceeds lower in the sky
Interesting shadows and textures arise
To grasp at the threads of imagination
Fluttering along at full speculative speed
Brightening to make an impression upon the neurons before they pass by

When the light is practically parallel to the line of clouds
My heart jumps into my throat
The most beautiful colors come true
Oranges yellows purples permeating the heavens
Even a tiny rainbow amidst some stray mist

Unbearably breathtaking imagery such as that
Can only exist for moments at a time
As a rule
And following through on that promise
The sun drops below the clouds 
Leaving me alone in a twilight lit from reflected light above

Along with this old airplane
And her crew

Everything creaks as the first stars appear to me
The wing spars flex in a long curve from root to tip
As a slight updraft makes the autopilot do some work
Computing how best to manipulate the flight controls
To keep us at our assigned altitude
Give or take a couple hundred feet

The temperature inside hasn't changed
But I feel a chill inspired by the chilly view
So I pull the old smelly Pan Am blanket a little higher
A little tighter up to my chin
Smelling of a thousand bad in-flight meals
And a hint of pipe tobacco

Out the window the clouds show their first gap in a thousand miles
And the rolling textured surface of the Pacific Ocean peeks up at me
Then it is gone
And I'm trapped once again above those clouds
Now dark grey and slightly menacing
As the world outside the window dims

And the twinkling heavens open their arms wide


Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Terminal Speed of 300 Toads

I see you are going down again
I'd offer you a gentlemanly hand
But gravity seems to be doing you well

If only there were some way of measuring this
Your acceleration in a vacuum
Your terminal speed

I spy a nice sized rock and throw it at you
Smiling as it hits you square in the gut
Who needs to measure shit when I can do that

You cry out for my help
And three hundred toads shoot out of your butt
Just like you always said they would

I fall down right with you at that
Tears obscuring my view
My breath catching in almost silent gasp laughter

"Oh my god!"
I finally gasp out
"You said, 'The day I ask for your help......
.....three hundred toads........
...fly out your butt!!'"

And I can't stop laughing
Nor can the tears stop flowing
Never a breath will I catch

As we both hit the ground in unison
A smile upon my face
And three hundred toads pitter-pattering down all around us