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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.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014


It happened six seconds from now on a Monday
The three thousandth year of our Lord
Upon a sunny spring day in May
One million and one possibilities flowed
Not any one more likely than another
All just threads waiting to be pulled
Hung from the loom of the infinite mother

The man running in the field
A woman turning a pot
A child of uncertain sex as of yet
Dreaming within the womb of another

These and three billion more
All with an uncertain six seconds of grace
Until whatever it might be happens to them all
A preserved moment frozen in place

But it always happens six seconds from now doesn't it
With all the uncertainty that that brings
The dangling options of eternity
A tantalizing spaghetti forest of strings

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Reflection of Deception

Every time my mirror lies to me
I swing a mighty hammer to smash it

When it shows my stripes
Or tells me my age
Claims I'm not bright
It always feeds my rage

But warhammer blows
Turn into baby taps
Like a plastic rattle trembling
After I stay up past my nap

Everything is diminished
When reflected in my mirrors eyes
At times it seems like water
Or it could just be the tears it makes me cry

Mighty is weak
Large becomes small
Pretty becomes hideous
Reversing pretty much anything at all

And before you suggest the obvious
And tell me to try tapping lightly
Which clearly would smash it to pieces
Ripping it softly from the wall

That doesn't work either
When I try outsmarting it
All I can hear is laughter

As if its just having a ball

Mirror mirror this
Mirror mirror that
Here there and everywhere
All a fucking funhouse

An inescapable siren call

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Magical Daily Affirmation Mirror

"You are beautiful
Just as you were meant to be
Accept yourself and be free"

Daily affirmations like this and many others
Poured forth in an unending stream
In all the different languages
A cacophony to make one scream

"My goodness how intelligent you are
Your word power is great
And must be used with wisdom and care"

Sometimes the affirmations seem to be reaching
Like the time I got a compliment on my mullet
Though it only lasted minutes before the golden hair grew back
It was typical of what the mirror tries shoving down my gullet

"Your reflection in me is but a shade of who you are
Your greatness cannot be quantified by any visual means"

See what I mean?

I picked up this Daily Affirmation Mirror on QVC
It was seven-fifty with free shipping
And I would have thought that the batteries would have run out
But it's gone at fifty affirmations a day for twelve years now without skipping

"My goodness your breath is sweet today
It smells of prairie flowers"

God but I can't stand this thing
And it seems magically stuck to my wall
Remaining in place regardless of the force that I bring
I even tried to break it with the anguished toss of a bowling ball

"The shape of your nose if perfect
I love the way that it lightly turns up at the tip"

None of this would be so bad if I could get away
But I'm stuck in a ten story tower with nary a door nor stair
Oh but I think I hear something outside!
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, please let down your hair"

"That gown you have on is most lovely
It seems even better than the one you had yesterday
The purple brings out your eyes......"

Oh do shut up Magic Daily Affirmation Mirror
I think this might be my ticket out of here!

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Towing The Banner

You are the banner that silently speaks for me
Fluttering overhead raggedly
Threads held together by the words
Promises made and oaths broken
Some overly used political slogans

God hates this
Jesus loves that
Crosses wrapped in flags
Or the Pope in his pointy white hat
Will you marry me?
Oh and I'm so very sorry for that 

A spirit on the wing
A distraction in the sky
If you have a message you need out there
It doesn't even need a real reason why
Just call Banner Air Service 
Where have cash and words: will fly

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Orange Cone Army

Do not go where the orange cones grow
With their fear and their stay out attitude
I tried it once and have regretted it since
Frightening myself and my passenger with a thump and a startle

They guard the road in all their flickering splendor
Orange yellow lights blinking at unmatching intervals
Not impressing me with their nonconformity
If it were me I'd stop and adjust their timers

Sometimes if nobody is looking
One will jump out into the middle of a lane
Just to keep drivers on their toes
Flickering dead center and being vain

If you see it too late you'll squish it for sure
Tossing it into the roadside ditch
Where it lies forgotten, collapsed, and scuffed
Until someone in an orange vest picks it up

Setting it up to taunt me once again

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Space Sonnet

"I dream of a galaxy where your eyes are the stars
And the universe worships the night"

Which is where things go from romantic to horrifying
For as the words passed my lips
So it was
With billions and billions of eyes looking down on me

Unimpressed blue eyes
Blinking in disdain
Wishing for some way to punish me for awakening them

Somewhere far off was a screaming tearing sound
And I imagined the universe trying to form a mouth
Filled with impossible spikes for teeth
With which to rend my existence for all eternity in its maw

All for the love of thee
And comparing your eyes to stars
Oh what a foolish suitor am I
To steal my sonnet from a bad Star Trek script

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

So You Want To Fly?

So you want to fly?

First we learn to walk
By walking over to the stockroom
Fetching loads of parts
Carrying buckets of cleaner
Scrubbing dirty aircraft till they gleam
All of the things get to the plane with your feet

So you want to fly?

First we learn to lube
With the green standard grease
That comes in the black standard tube
Lock on with a nipple fitting
Or precisely meter it in with a needle
From body  joints to wheel bearings
All the moving things need their lube

So you want to fly?

First we learn to torque
Whether precision bolts or common screws
Everything has to be the right amount of tight
With shank length and proper nuts
Holding everything together for a safe flight
All the fasteners need to be torqued

So you want to fly?

First we learn to work the metal
On the shears and the bench
To the english wheel for some compound curves
Smoothing the airflow
Easing the aerodynamic urge
Fastening it all together with rivets
An art unto themselves
To learn the manufactured and working end
Shit from shinola
All metal must bend

So you want to fly?

First we learn to chase the sparks
With voltmeters and jumper wires
Dizzying schematics no walk in the park
Inspecting wiring bundles as thick as your arm
There's a break in the wire somewhere
Only five hundred feet more to check
All the avionics must be learned

So you want to fly?

Maybe now you are ready to step into the flight mechanic's shoes
You've gathered your knowledge
You might just know what to do
So keep maintenance control on speed dial
And may the gods watch over you
For you haven't really been tested yet
And by tested I mean by the best of times
Though at the time they feel as bad as it can get
All your seat miles must be earned

Tuesday, May 13, 2014


Nude legs dangling
Kicking and pedaling in place
Perhaps a scissor kick or two
Something about them reminds me of you

That time you got away
Sliding along the water on your board
I was this close to taking a bite
But you didn't react in fright

You never even knew

That's the part that hurt the worst
When you didn't even notice my effort
And just because it is my nature is beside the point
Your lack of notice is what put my nose out of joint

Now I'll have you
It's all I'm thinking as I swim straight up
Mouth opening wide
Rows of teeth dull and white
Red red gums

One strong kick of my tail and I'm upon you
Biting down gently upon your delicate skin

But I as bite and thrash
Your legs inside my mouth
Femurs cracking slowly beneath my strong jaw
I realize this isn't you at all!

I can't believe I made this mistake
It's almost as if this chick was bait
So I'll keep on looking
Until I find the one that tastes just like you

Monday, May 12, 2014

A Tasty Problem

The fast food french fries fill me with disease
Though I know that they aren't good to eat
Nothing else fills my mind with such ease
While at the same time trapping me in my tight seat

It'll Never Fly

"That thing will never fly, you idiot"
Tommy was saying with spittle flecked lips
"It ain't got no engine!
What kind of idiot thinks he can fly without an engine?!"

I ignored him and his limited arsenal of adjectives
Made easier by the sound of a jet aircraft taking off
Passing directly overhead
As I slowly filed on the edge of the cockpit cutout

It had to be smooth
Otherwise the sharp metal would cut into my nice bumper I'd had sewn up
Which installed all around the lip
Forming a nice soft edge guard for my face
Should such a thing be necessary

Though I hoped not

Tommy watched me fasten the soft edge liner to the cockpit surround
"What's that?
So you can lay your idiot head down and cry when it doesn't fly?"
And then he laughed his donkey bray laugh at his own cleverness
Raising the hair on my arms
Just like it used to in second grade

Tommy hasn't changed a bit, unfortunately

Everything seemed ready
But I went over everything once more just to be sure

Stub wings firmly attached to short fuselage
Ailerons secure and movable
Tail surfaces secure
Rudder and elevators wiggle as needed under my fingertips
Carriage roller locked onto the launch track and free to roll
The thick metal eye on the nose of the aircraft firmly attached
Cable hook looped gently through the metal eye
Quick disconnect operable via the lever in the cockpit

I walk slowly down the launch track stretching off 100 yards into the back field
Eyeballing it as I go
Running the tow cable through my loosely closed hand as I go
Looking back at where it is attached to the nose of the airplane occasionally
Eventually reaching the end
Where the steel scorpio I'd constructed sat in all it's truck leaf spring salvaged glory
Cables and steel leaves pulled taut hooked to the electronic firing pin
Barbed steel arrow notched into the slot
With my specially designed spring bungee assembly on the aft end of the arrow
Tow cable hooked to that firmly
And coiled in a neat pile between the rails

I turned and jogged back towards my small aircraft
As it was almost time for the afternoon heavy to take off from the airport

Tommy's voice reached out to me from where he lazed upon the ground
"Run, Forrest, Run!"

Before I knew it my helmet was on and I was strapped in
Staring down the twin rails as I listened to the airport tower frequency on my scanner
"Ranchero Air Seven-Four-Heavy,
You are cleared for takeoff on runway 17L"

And this was it
Because in a few minutes that aircraft would fly directly overhead
Hanging low over the first house after the end of the runway
Behind which was my launch track
Perfectly aligned with the flight path

Tommy was bored
"How far you think that thing will fly, idiot?
Ten feet?
I'll bet you tip over before you get to the end......"

His voice disappeared into a deafening rumble quickly approaching
My finger hovered over a remote switch on the side of my cockpit
The other hand squeezing the control stick and turning white

A shadow covered me for a split second
I pressed the button
The scorpio fired into the air
Dragging the coiled cable with it in a rapidly playing out single strand

The steel arrow climbed
My eyes followed it as it impacted the underbelly of the large 747
Embedding itself there in the structure

Suddenly there was no more time
I cried out
"Fuck you Tommy!"
Before I was snapped back in my seat
Accelerated at a barely survivable rate by my bungee assembly
That cushioned the sudden launch

The steel rails screamed and threw sparks as I zipped down them to the end
I pulled back on the stick
Elevators angled up
My airplane cleared the end of the rails and was airborne
Being dragged behind a jumbo jet at 300 miles per hour

I was flying

Friday, May 9, 2014

Captain Courageous

As heroes typically go
Captain Courageous was pretty slow
He often arrived long after the crime
Having very little sense of time

Cape flying out behind
Looking for all the trouble he can find
Fearlessly standing Superman
Long after the action is done

The Courageous Caller blasts out a summons
That there's evil afoot
Much hero work to be done

But CC has his ear buds in
Listening to Limp Bizkit
Having himself a swim

By the time he hears
The robbers have robbed
Kidnappers have kidnapped
Supervillains have taken over

But man does he look good
Flying in his red spandex tights
And Izod with double popped collar
Cape silkily flowing in the wind
Landing with a thud most marvelous
Shouting out his hello with heroic lungs
"These events appear outrageous!
They will be set right by Captain Courageous!"

His audience of onlookers look on
Before shaking their collective heads
And continuing to clean up the mess

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Mechanics of Breathing

Eyes closed
Diaphragm flattening downwards
Intercostal muscles moving the rib cage up and out

Air pressure differential detected

Air rushes into the lungs
Over the lips and past the tongue
Watch out alveoli
Here it comes

Now full to bursting
Hold it in
Hold it in
Lungs Burning

Now exhale

Thorax cavity contracting
Pushing the air
Flattening everything out
Eyes opening

Mind clear
Troubles far away

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Comfy Not For Zombies Chair

This chair is comfortable
It's just not the kind of chair you'd smash apart
To use the long pieces as stabbing utensils on roving hordes of zombies

I'm no furniture expert
But I know what I like
And this old chair
With its broad wooden seat
With lightly carved pockets for each cheek of my butt
It is almost as if I was the very model that the carpenter used to make it
Sitting down is like being cupped in a silken hand
Perfectly supported

Even the back of the chair somehow conforms to my back
With eight long spindles supporting the back piece
With a handy oval hold in the center
Which I use to grab onto and drag the chair around the house as needed

That top bit hits just the right spot on my back
Especially when I sit down without my shirt on
To feel the cool surface of the wood pressing upon my skin

It's almost arousing

Which brings me back to zombies
Which are everywhere

I've been barricaded in for three weeks
As herds of them wander aimlessly through town
While I sit here in this fabulous chair
Tummy rumbling

I'm making a break for it
But before I go I'll stick this little sign here on the chair
Just so everyone knows how comfortable it is
And is not to be used for zombies

Monday, May 5, 2014

Take Two

A formal request for a currently common task
An outline for a remake of a 70's performance
Fleshed out with scintillating dialog
No missed opportunities
No regret
A life on replay
The second night of a Broadway play
No dodging left when we should have gone right
Not like those problems we had on opening night

I'd like to reset to first position please
I know the script
I know my cues
I'll do the next walk through with ease

You'll see

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Pill Monger

Small bag of pills at the bottom of my locker
Some reds whites yellows and blue
All a little different in shape and marking
Yet I don't recall at all what they do

A yellow one is held just so in the light
Seems to be an "M" upon it
Or is that a "W"
No, that's not right

It's an "E"
That's what it is
Now to look in the pill encyopedia
Because this will be on tomorrow's pop quiz

It seems this is some over the counter Ecstasy
Though I can't recall if that's really a thing
The red ones must be uppers
The blue ones make one's cock rock hard for a fling

The white ones are aspirin
Or maybe some Abilify
The markings are a bit worn
As they've been knocking about for years

Come to think of it
Due to their age
I should probably just throw them all away
Except the Ecstasy
As that shit is all the rage

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Just Another Four Cycle

Cried the first stage fan
With a scimitar grind upon its edge
Separating the inrush of airflow
Dividing and conquering all in one fell blow

Some of the air tumbles into the first stage vanes
Entering the dark of the engine core
To be compressed further
Stage upon stage
Until it can be squeezed no more

Whereupon it is injected with high pressure fuel
And lit on fire
Causing it to roar in agony
Tension within now tight as a wire

Hot gasses sent on out the nozzle guide vanes
Into the turbine section
Pushed on by hot gas and flames
A couple stages to drive the second stage compressor core
Then one or two more
To spin the first stage of compression
And begin the process once again

But wait
Wasn't there some additional air?
Back when I said that 'some' went into the core?
Yes, quite right.

That's the bypass air
Providing ninety percent of the thrust
But it's much more exciting to talk about what happens in the core
Don't you think?

And that's how a jet engine works
All happening in the time it takes to blink

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Twist Tied

The king sized box of twist ties was impossible to resist
Because if my membership to this big box buyer's club has taught me anything
It's that the larger the quantity
The better

These twist ties were of "Industrial Quality!"
And "Extra Long!"
Not to mention "Red!"
All of which turned out to be true
Measuring a full ten inches long by my ruler
With strength being tested by me twisting several of them into an impromptu dog leash
Which even the big dopey poodle couldn't break

Unfortunately I did not have any twist tie specific jobs for these bad boys
The fact of which may have depressed a lesser man
But not me
No sirree

I simply set the whole box next to my favorite chair
And turned on the 24 hour cartoon channel
Giving me an excuse to sit there and play with them

The first cartoon starred some animals from Africa
So many of the first twist ties became giraffes and lions
At least that's what they were to me
I can't say for sure if someone just walking in would be able to tell
But I like to think so

But I soon got sick of making little animals
And began idly wrapping them around my fingers
In one continuous twist tie
By twisting the ends of the ties together
Becoming whatever length I though I'd need

Around each finger on my left hand
Continuing to the palm area
And right up my forearm
Making the niftiest thing I'd ever seen

I knew where this was going
So I immediately stopped and took off all of my clothes
As any sane person would
Then continuing to wrap the never-ending twist ties around myself
One loop at a time

The clock's hands moved at normal speed
But I paid them no mind
As cartoon program after program came and went upon the television
All just background chatter for my body wrapping project

The mirror on the wall provided a fine view of how things looked
As I worked on my lower left shin
And I was just thinking how I resembled a snazzy red wrapped mummy man
When my roommate walked right in

Groceries in both hands
He stopped and stared at me
Glanced at the side table
And declared
"Nice little giraffes"

Before continuing to the kitchen