Poetry & More

Once there was Darkness

Sandstorm

Part 9

Kol was too exhausted to sleep. He absent mindedly lit a candle. A faint rattling came to his ears. The thought of a snake in his chambers made him sick. Then a foot appeared from behind a curtain. Kessa entered the room dancing. The rattle he heard was her tambourine. “What did I do to deserve a dance?”

“You would not dance with me at the celebration. Even the old stuffy duke danced but not our honored king. King Brum danced with your mother. He’s a good dancer by the way. But not you. How could you hurt a girls feelings in such a manner?” She danced around him.

“What you are saying to me is that if I hurt your feelings more often, you will be more playful and carefree around me?”

“Is that what you see?”

“I see the woman that has sworn before God to protect me…” he trailed off. “Will you ever forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” she teased. “My feelings are hurt deeply.” She continued dancing as she talked.

“I was never good at dancing.”

“It’s a lot like sword play and you’re very good at that.” The slight jingle of the tambourine combine with her scent and the swirling of her dress was driving him mad. “The dance at the celebration was very simple. Pretty much all you had to do was step out of the way.”

“Oh, that makes me feel better.” He blushed, reaching out, catching her around the waist. She used his jester to circle around in front of him. It was her intent to stop and arms length away from him. When she did, he pulled her in. Body to body. She was out of breath because she had been dancing. He was out of breath for a totally different reason. “You did hurt my feelings.”

“I’m very sorry.” He took her hand in his, holding it to his chest. “Kessa, I need you to do something for me?”

“I will try, as always my king.”

“Please call me Kol.”

She blushed, “I don’t know if I can.”

“Will you try?”

“I will try.”

He lowered his head, when he raised it again she was gone. Did he just dream that? No, the curtains were moving and he could smell her.

I hate you!

You are the most annoying sound in the world.

All I want is to stay all snuggly and warm.

Why can’t I stay curled,

my thoughts and feelings transformed.

My bed is like a trusted friend.

That perfect hug.

Sleep, the realm of dreams does bend.

My bed doesn’t care if I lay like a lug.

Chico doesn’t care; if my energy into the world, I do not send.

He just wants one more snug.

Urnt! Urnt! Urnt! Your sound less than grand.

I hate you. I hate you! I hate you!

All I want is to lay in the warm, silent, comfortable , dream land.

But no: I HATE YOU!

Once, twice, three, four! Leave me alone with the sand man.

Leave me alone. Why must you make me blue?

Urnt, urnt, urnt, URNT!

Why? Why. Why?

I didn’t stay up late last night. The candle at both ends was not burnt.

Sigh.

Levi Hutchins, who cares if you wanted to get up every day at 4 a.m.*

Urnt. Urnt. Urnt!

Just once. On a whim,

I’d like to sleep until my body says it’s time to get up, rurnt*

But no. Out of the bed, gotta get things done.

Out of the bed. This will not be fun.

*atlasobscura.com

• rurnt is Appalachian speak for something that has gone bad or is spoiled.

The Revolt of 2050 Part 2

Switching to Sustainable Energy

Windmills were pulled down or blown up. One of the funniest sights I saw was someone trying to pull a windmill down with a car. We never learned if it was staged or not. But the body of the car separated from the frame when the driver floored the gas. We still laugh over that. Silly car.

Dams were blown up. Lots of people died from the flooding.

People started just blowing more stuff up: water and sewer plants, power plants, refineries. Nothing was safe. Before the electricity failed, we were told the gulf was on fire.

And we couldn’t have gone without a good ole fashion book burning. It didn’t matter what the book was, as long as it would burn.

When you start talking about phasing out or redefining people’s jobs, temperatures rise. Alternative energy sources were not as labor intensive as oil, gas, and coal. It also took a different skill set. It was up to the individual to adapt and overcome. All the government programs designed to retrain employees that were laid off ran out of money in one year.

The government push for everyone to drive electric cars broke the power grid. “A first world country with a third world power grid”* transformed into no power grid in less than 2 years.

There wasn’t enough rare Earth elements to build all the batteries required. New battery technology couldn’t keep up.

The definition of wealth changed. If you owned your house or drove anything, or if you were overweight, you were considered wealthy. All the worlds banks collapsed before I was able to pay my house off. Because; there were so many people out of work, the government let people stay where they were. Can you imagine; by these new standards I’m wealthy. This is laughable.

My old 2012, I transformed into a solar car. The last thing I learned off the internet before it crashed. Yes, the internet failed. Cellphones failed. Banks failed. Grocery stores failed.

I was never able to afford an electric car or the ability to have a charging station put at my house.

I guess people don’t try to hurt me because I let folks camp in my yard and bathe in the creek. Because I do have solar, I will let people charge their phones. In exchange for something to eat. Sometimes something to read. It just depends on my current need. I have had people sit on my carport and weep when their smartphones charged and they could see pictures of their loved ones or hear their voices from old voice messages.

Each person has a different story. Different loss. Sam lost his job when we ran out of jet fuel. Jan’s truck ran out of diesel in Livingston.

People were sharing stories they had heard from their parents or grandparents about the 1970’s energy crisis. Was this worse? It’s always worse when it’s happening to you. No gas. No oil. People just quit. The human spirit is broken. Living from day to day is all that matters now. My how times have changed.

I always thought I’d live out my old age in a nursing home. I never thought I’d be sitting on my porch, tent city in my yard, gun across my lap, doing nothing. Wasting time.

What I wouldn’t give to have my bestie back. She chose (with good reason) not to have her brain downloaded into a computer. Though I struggle to hear her voice, it’s better this way. Were her eyes brown or gray? I can’t remember.

It’s the little things that get us by now. Some evening, we sit around a fire and I listen to people talk about where they are from. Where they are going and why? 90% of the stories are children going home to their parents. There is a need to make sure their person is alive.

Having friends is a rare commodity. I’d you have a friend; someone I can trust. You are wealthy beyond measure. If you have a true friend, it is a gift from God. ‘My friend.’ I still have the luxury of calling him, ‘my friend.’ Time hasn’t taken that away from me.

*Dianne Wiest as Shirley Abbott Secretary of Energy from Category 6 Day of Destruction 2004

The Revolt of 2050 Part 1

Waste not. Want not: trash bags

This poem is being written in stages to highlight the things I do toward frugal living.

Being single allows me some latitude.
Some of the things I do, your partner might give you attitude.

With the exception of my kitchen, my trash cans are small.
Even it has been retro fitted so; grocery store bags, I reuse them all.

I even have a cute storage sleeve.
I only buy trash bags if I need them for a specific project. Price too high, peeved.

Even this tissue package will be used as a trash bag.

Waste not. Want not.

Growing up; my daily life was filled with the saying, “waste not, want not.”

When you’re young, what clue do you have in lives dot?

As we grow; we learn, “money doesn’t grow on trees.”

I save the salt from chocolate squeeze.

To my stew you are added.

Flavor has been padded.

Aw sheet!

Blasted hole. This is not a treat.

I’m gonna fix you. I guarantee.

From my needle you need to flee.

More time will be added to your life. Around you I shall mend.

So more dream filled nights, you can tend.

Coffee. Nectar of God. You help me through another day.

Upright and functional, you help me stay.

What about your grounds?

A use for you, I have found.

Nutrients to the soil you will add.

Helping my veggies grow big and strong. Which will make me very glad.

Leftovers are my jam.

From me, they do not scram.

I freeze you to eat you for lunch.

Which helps my overall finances a bunch.

Someday I’d like to retire.

I’m sick of this mire.

Toothpaste: squeeze, squeeze you. But never tease me.

I will cut you open before I let you be.

Give me all your power.

Your contents, I will devour.

Inside I find more paste.

Enough for at lease 5 more brushings. No waste.

Mustard, ketchup, butter, pepper, or salt.

I don’t eat out a lot. Put that spending to a halt.

When I do, those condiment packets will be saved.

Eaten later or added to a recipe, usefulness will be made.

Some restaurants now days are making us pay for those.

Concerning our budgets, we must be on our toes.

I’m doing dishes anyway. No electric dishwasher near.

I pack my lunch almost every day. These sandwich bags here;

I haven’t bought new ones in years.

I wash them out until cracks appear.

Organized in old tissue boxes. Painted and labeled neat.

Baby steps toward my financial goals, meet.

Sincerely, I’m addicted to chap stick.

My lips, I do not lick.

I have it everywhere; on my desk, in my pocket, in the car, on the coffee table, by the night stand.

Use a tube to the nub. Throw it away? No way man.

Use a cosmetic spatula to get every last soothing ounce.

Apply to dry lips, give them bounce.

I got the yummy delicious benefit of the meat.

To my taste buds, it did greet.

Save the left over grease for my dog.

Add it to his kibble. Then share it on my blog.

Cheekie gets more than just grease from the table.

Added treats to his kibble, whenever I’m able.

Being single allows me some latitude.

Some of the things I do, your partner might give you attitude.

With the exception of my kitchen, my trash cans are small.

Even it has been retro fitted so; grocery store bags, I reuse them all.

I even have a cute storage sleeve.

I only buy trash bags if I need them for a specific project. Price too high, peeved.

The Revolt of 2050 Part 1

Switching to Sustainable Energy

Part 1 of 2

Time. Everyone has their separate opinion about time. Some view time as a friend. A trusted companion to walk with us through life. While others see time as a predator. Chasing us. Consuming us. However you choose to see time, it is a constant in life.

As I sit here… How did I get here? I’m not this person. What happened in time?

My house, I bought in 2003. It’s hard to remember back that long.

What a struggle; at times, to keep a roof over my head. Food on the table. Had it not been for my best friend, I would have lived off cereal.

We lived through covid, supply chain issues, the threat of World War III, inflation and government mandates. No one likes being forced into anything. Time is needed for change. Change is inevitable. No one likes it poured down their throat. Some of us made it through the changes. A lot didn’t. Too many people thought suicide was the only way out.

I lost my beloved Chico. It broke my heart. After his loss, I couldn’t bring myself to get another dog. So much loss.

For a brief time, the world had a new Space Race. It wasn’t as important as the one during the 1950’s – 60’s. Our new space race was pretty much some folks that could afford it trying to pick up where the government left off.

We didn’t make it to Mars. There’s quite a lot of Earth junk (now) on the red planet. The first manned space flight to Mars was when it all fell apart.

That wasn’t the root cause. A lot was going on. Mars was the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. How could the government justify sending a rocket to Mars when the average person couldn’t by fuel for their vehicles?

Call it growing pains. Call it the death of capitalism. Call it what you will but our landscape has changed during the course of my life and people were pissed.

I’ve always owned a gun. But it lived on my night stand. A pistol. But now, I have a shot gun. Loaded and by my side, always. Praise to God, I haven’t had to shoot anyone. Most people just walk on by.

All trust is gone. Most (what we referred to as) common decency is gone. Having food stored up is gone. We are able to get the basics. Milk is a thing of fiction. At least milk from a cow. We can get pretend milk. Hmm, cow. What I wouldn’t give for a cheeseburger. Cheese. Real cheese. Not that pretend cheese. Cows are now extinct.

It was the little things over time that led to ‘the revolt’. I kinda understand. You can only push people so far before they start to push back. Cost be damned. It makes me sad that people died.

I’m a big fan of solar energy. Praise be to God that the solar panels I had installed on my house still work. The power grid crumbled. So many people didn’t want to give up their conventional electricity. Those of us that chose an alternative had a hard road. Even worse if the general public found out you were selling the power you couldn’t use to an electric company. Too many homes were burnt to the ground. If you happened to be home, asleep, had children, too bad.

Roosters in stereo

One of the first things I do in the morning,

Cheekie has to go pee. Forewarning.

As we trek through the yard,

his bladder about to bombard –

the ground in lots of different places.

Multiple spaces.

A sound fills the morning air.

Do they dare?

Back and forth. From across the creek.

Every day of every week.

The roosters clear their throats.

I’m sure the hens take votes.

On which set of roosters can crow the loudest.

Which cock of the walk is the proudest.

Coop A or Coop B.

I wonder if they ever want to flee?

Cross the creek, through the yard

to a rooster fight – marred.

But alas, they will just have to crow.

This morning, it’s in stereo.

Once there was Darkness

Sandstorm

Part 8

“Nor do I. There is something about the water that she needs. If you notice, Rajaf has set up a way to heat it. It is always warm.” Kol saw the water flowing under a round object, to the pool, then out of the pool back to the round object.

“She will not drown?”

“No, we would.”

“I don’t like it.”

Max grinned, “Nor do I, my king.”

King Brum and his men stayed for thirty days. Half of his men, and a group of soldiers removed all the debris. The rest of his men helped with rebuilding the bell tower for the temple.

The Sabbath after it was finished, they all went to worship as the bell sounded out its call.

“No one has come forth to accuse King Kol of being an evil man.” Kessa smiled.

After worship, there was a mighty feast on the beach. Everyone was invited to attend. And everyone did. The food, the sounds, it was a party as well as a feast for all the senses. Everyone danced and ate. It was a much needed break.

Four pieces of scorched wood were used in rebuilding the market to remind everyone of this bitter storm. For the feast, it was the shelter they sat under to eat.

From across the sand 3 groups of 2 Bejhar came walking into view, side by side; carrying large pieces of black cloth attached to a pole between them. Their arms stretched to the sky. They stopped not far from the king. When the Bejhar dropped the cloth, there stood a large group of women. Kessa was front and center; directly in front of Kol. Dressed as Kol had never seen her before. She had flowers in her hair, her garments were deep blue and she had a tambourine in her hand. She started playing slowly then more women joined her. All the women’s dresses flowed with each step they took. It was a feast for all the senses.

Kol was entranced by Kessa. He followed her with his eyes no matter where she moved within the crowd of dancers.

Frego leaned over to him, “dad, what are they doing?”

Rajaf erupted with laughter, “young prince, they are making a joyful noise and dancing unto the Lord. We’ve talked about this.” (Psalm 149:3 / Psalm 150:4)

“Yes we have. But it’s different seeing it in action.”

“Yes it is,” Kol let out a long sigh.

The women danced and played for hours. At the end of the feast, the men of the Forest were ready to leave. Every citizen of Mecca lined up by the gate and shook the hand of every man from the forest as they left. King Brum was the last to leave.

“I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for us.” Kol shook his hand and Brum mounted his horse.

Deleted

Got 19 e-mails. Deleted 11.

Maybe I shouldn’t have deleted number 7?

Lost in the mess.

I’m not going to stress.

Why? Why do you spam my guts out?

It really makes me want to pout.

560 ‘junk’ e-mails. But I haven’t checked that in over a week.

Hope your e-mail didn’t go to junk. We’ll be playing a game of hide -n- seek.

At least nothing is marked urgent. 😂

Once there was Darkness

Sandstorm

Part 7

After Kessa was dismissed, she went to the barracks. It wasn’t long before a horn blew. Kol knew where she went. A group of weary men and women went walking toward the barracks. Kol knew the Bejhar were everywhere. He just wasn’t sure where. Two climbed onto the beach from checking the platform. Two left the group that was taking down the burnt market place. Someone was climbing down from the rebuilding of the bell tower. Two came out of the palace. As quickly as they left their post, other soldiers filled them. She never ceased to amaze him. He patted his son on the back, “I think, my son, we both have a lot to learn from Lady Kessa.” He waited a couple hours before he too went to the barracks.

He found the men in the large bath in the front room. One of them realized he was there. They started to get up. “No,” he waved them down. “Rest.” He finally found Kessa in her pool of white liquid. Her pool of white liquid; how did he know that. He laid down by the edge of the pool where he could face her. “Are you alright?”

“You ordered me to rest. I’m resting.”

“You’re upset with me.”

“I’ll get over it, my king.”

He closed his eyes, “Kes,” he whispered.

She moved her head and opened her eyes. Silent tears were rolling down his face, “Whom are you crying for, my king?”

It startled him. He took a deep breath before he answered, “everyone.”

“You need rest as well.” With a milky hand, she caressed his cheek.

“You are more suited to rule than I.” His voice was low.

“What filth do you speak?” He took her hand and held it against his cheek.

“You know that I will be blamed for the storm. The public will be in an uproar. They will want my head.”

She moaned, “then we shall pray.” There was a moment of silence. “Why will they want your noble head? Not that we can’t pray.”

“The people will blame me for the storm.” He would not let her move her hand.

She smiled a bright smile, “that’s what you have us for. To protect your royal head.”

He smiled and soon fell asleep. Something inside him woke him. Kessa was gone. “Kessa.” He panicked, “Kessa!” He slid in the milky water feeling for her. She had slid under. “Kessa!” He pulled her out, laying her over his knee on her belly. She was breathing. But how was that possible? This stuff was covering her, “Kessa.” It took her a little while to come around all the same.

“I’m,” there was a moment of silence. “I’m alright.”

“You scared me to death.”

She gave a wicked little smile, “not worried about being persecuted anymore?”

He was shocked. That comment hurt, “Did you do that on purpose?”

“No.” She closed her eyes as she shook her head.

He carried her to the corner of the room where she soon fell asleep.

Kol woke to the sound of a voice, “my king. My king.” It was Max.

“Kessa,” he jumped. She was still asleep.

“Max,” he hissed. “She fell asleep. I fell asleep. She slid under. Does she do that often?”

“It’s happened a couple times. The water will not kill her.”

“I don’t understand.”

Extinct

Science fiction buff at heart.

Where do we start?

At the beginning or the end?

Into a tail spin should we send?

The double edge sword; not of metal or of brass.

But it will kick our collective – – -.

A.I. will bring about some mighty impressive tools. Surely, it will not be so cruel.

To bring forth the extinction of human kind.

Body, soul, and mind.

Extinct

Humans

Bones

Dry

Powder

Dust

Kudzu

Reclaim

Earth

*This was my answer to a poetry prompt from Living Poetry, livingpoetry.net : April Visual Poetry Prompt:

Thank you.