Where is god?
🛑 Adult content, language, drugs, abuse (multiple forms), please read with discretion. May be a trigger for some readers. Reader discretion advised.
This story has massive amounts of adult content. So much out of my wheel house, here’s to something different.
Psalm 13: 1-2
1 How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? 2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? ESV
Where is god?
Second page of a Google search
Maggie loved to listen to podcasts. She was listening to one on a random afternoon. Two men were talking. She laughed, “he’s gonna change the world as you know it.” With her feet, she set the rocker in motion, nussin’ her little dog. “He’s gonna change your world.” This man had wild ideas. Is that how you change the world? Why I remember this, I’m not sure. But he said, “The best place to hide a body is on the second page of a Google search.” I chuckled to myself as I looked at the limp, filthy body in front of me. The second page of my Google search. Where is the second page of my search? I’ve already ruled out the car frame. Inside the house will be first. Under this trailer?
The kitchen table sat on top of a hole in the floor. After jerking out the knife and tossing it in the sink, I slid her body down the hole. Used one of her shirts to clean up the fresh blood as best I could. I made sure to get it off the wall. How do you get blood off the wall without water? Piss on it. The house already stank.
Under the floor; it was dark, a different kind of dark from the darkness outside, cool, and damp. Maybe I should have been sleeping under here all along?
Dad was still passed out on the table as I looked for something to dig a hole with. If I was lucky, he would stay that way. Nope. He moved, scratching his balls through his underwear. Maybe? Yes. Still out.
It took a long time for me to find something to dig with. Finally, I found a broken 5 gallon bucket. It made digging slow. But it was better than doing it by hand.
Dad was still out when I came up from the hole. Only this time, he had rolled off the table. Sorry I missed that.
I was hot; covered in sweat and dirt as morning broke. It was best if I cleaned up my dishes and the knife. It was my luck that a bucket of rain water was outside in the drip of the house.
Just as I finished; a couple of dads buddies pulled up, beer in hand. Loud men. Louder truck.
Quote for today
“Walls help no one expect the people who want to be inside them.”
Chico’s Mom
Dark clouds
I’d like to thank Ray Whitaker and the team at Masticadores Canada for publishing my poem Dark Clouds. Thank you 💕
Lost Past; A Star Trek Story
Another new wrinkle
Picard was enjoying the most restful night he had since this mission began. His wonderful sleep was interrupted by Wil’s voice. “Captain to the bridge.” He clamored out of bed. Once he stepped onto the bridge he noticed a ship on the view screen. It was gold and looked like an egg floating in space. “Report!” He ordered.
“We know nothing sir.” Wil reported.
“Nothing!” He looked around in amazement.
“Sensors are working. However, they are having difficulty reading.” Data reported.
“Let’s correct that shall we.”
“Sir, we are being hailed,” Worf growled.
“On screen.”
“Can’t sir,” Data replied.
“Great.” Jean-Luc took a deep breath. “This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard aboard the Federation Starship Enterprise.”
For a time, there was no reply. Then static poured over the bridge in waves. Again there was silence. “I am Captain Exec Dom aboard the Sheno cruiser Vio.”
“How may we be of service Captain?”
Westerfield stepped onto the bridge.
“We are looking for one of our ships. Have you passed it in your travels?”
“What did it look like?”
The mail voice talking to Picard was much like there’s, human in tone. “It would have been a smaller version of this one.”
“No, we have not.”
There was silence. “May we meet?”
“Sure, send us your coordinates and we will transport you over.” Picard turned around, “Worf, you’re with me. Number one, you have the bridge.”
In the transporter room, they watched as Captain Dom materialized on the transporter pad.
“That was interesting. It,” he thought for a moment, “tickled.” He looked around at his new surroundings. His skin was brown with frills where his ears should have been. He had no visible hair. His hands and feet both had five appendages but were webbed. His eyes were very small, round, and black. His nose didn’t stick out like a human nose; it was just two holes in his skin. His mouth looked like a human mouth. The uniform he wore was green and highly decorated.
“Welcome Captain Dom aboard the Enterprise.”
“Thank you Captain Picard.” He stepped off the pad to shake Picard’s extended hand.
“This is my security chief Lieutenant Commander Worf.”
They shook hands, “Lieutenant.”
“Please,” they lead Captain Dom to Picard’s office. “Captain, we didn’t pass a ship in our travels that looks like yours; however, we did pass a debris field four days back.” Picard volunteered.
“A debris field?”
“I didn’t mention it because if your bridge is like mine, all your bridge crew can hear our conversation. There were no pieces left big enough for us to gather. We did take measurements of the elements that made up the field. Perhaps our data can help you in determining if it was your ship.”
“You have a ship in tow Captain. A ship that looks like one that was reported to us from the Addo; before he lost contact with the fleet.”
“We found the Jormungand drifting in space. It isn’t in tow. It is following us.”
“We will accept any help you can give us in locating our brothers.”
“Very good. Worf please ask Data to join us. You are dismissed.”
“Yes sir.” Worf departed. After several minutes Data entered. He took one look at Captain Dom and froze in his tracks. He saw a creature much like Don appear before him. The room was full of people. This creature was being questioned. All he could see were hands and arms. Could hear voices. “Who paid you?” Boomed in his ears. He realized the voice he heard was Thor. The creature gave no reply. The longest piece of bone from this frill was pulled out. He gritted his teeth but never uttered a word. “Who hired you to harm my daughter?” Still no answer, the same bone was taken from his other frill. “I want answers.” The voice demanded. One by one very tooth in his mouth was removed. Every bone from his frills. The teeth were shaped into marbles and placed on the bones from the frills. “Who hired you?” Rang out again. After several minutes of silence, a hand was thrust into the creature’s chest. His heart was pulled out and shown to him. “Who hired you?” The creature screamed as the heart beat a couple times then stopped. It was shaped into a jewel and placed with the marbled teeth and frill bones. The hands Data saw shaped the bones into a necklace.
“Data.” Captain Picard reprimanded.
“My apologies Captain.” He looked at Captain Dom. “Sir.”
“I want you to assist Captain Dom in analyzing our data from the debris field.”
“Yes sir.” Data and Captain Dom left Captain Picard.
Where is god?
🛑 Adult content, language, drugs, abuse (multiple forms), please read with discretion. May be a trigger for some readers. Reader discretion advised.
This story has massive amounts of adult content. So much out of my wheel house, here’s to something different.
Our prayer group has been reading about Habakkuk. You might fly right past the book of Habakkuk if you’re not careful. It’s only 3 chapters long. Between Nahum and Zephaniah in the Bible.
Who was Habakkuk? Habakkuk was a prophet, and yet he still had some questions for God: “Does God care? Is God fair? Is God there?” But instead of running away from God with his questions, Habakkuk brought his questions to God, and he wrestled them out in prayer. And God answered Habakkuk every time. It was not always the answer that Habakkuk expected or wanted, but God answered his questions and led him steadily along the journey from doubt to faith.
Where is god?
Where do you hide a body?
There was no need to knock on Maggie’s door. She saw me standing on her porch. Stomach in my hands. She always greeted me with a smile, food, shower and clean clothes.
When I was 9, I stole a car and hit her house. Instead of turnin’ me over, I worked out the cost of fixing her property. I wonder, whatever happened to that car?
She’s the closest I’ve ever had to a friend.
After dinner, I left. Strollin’ down the road, in the dark, listenin’ to the crickets and frogs.
The old beat up trailer that I called my home was pretty much a space out of the rain. My drug addicted abusive parents couldn’t be bothered makin’ me a real home.
How many times as a child did I watch him beat mom? Rape her. Do horrid things to her.
When I was 12, they were both high on something. Mom was freaking out. Seein’ stuff that wasn’t really there. She was fighting air. Screamin’ at ghosts. Dad stumbled over to her; with one punch knocked her out, then proceeded to rape her. While mom was still out on the couch; two of dad’s buddies came over. For the price of beer, both had their way with her.
Did he not know I was there? Alive? Could see everything? Did he care? I wasn’t angry. I was numb.
At dusk, mom finally woke. I was tryin’ to fix a can of beans for dinner. She beat the shit out of me ‘cause I allowed the can opener to fall on the floor. Now, I was mad. With one swift motion, I sank a butcher knife through the top of her head. A small stream of blood ran down her forehead, then her nose. Dripped from the tip to her chin. Rolled down her neck staining the hem of her tank top red. I sat at the kitchen table watchin’ her die eating my beans.
Did she deserve better than being a pile in the kitchen floor? Blood being added to the variety of stains already on her tank top: beer, cum, piss and shit.
Dad was still passed out on the broken down picnic table outside. Would he notice?
I looked out the dirt covered windows. Under a tree, was the frame of a car. How many times had I fallen asleep in that car? Wait! That stripped down car was that the car I wrecked? Why can’t I remember?
Where am I going to bury her? In the car? My outdoor bedroom.
In that moment, I had no idea what this action would do to me. Truthfully, I should have known. But I was too naive to think about the future.
Where would you hide a body? No. She wasn’t going in my space.
Hidden in plain sight: It’s Hammer time
Does the name Stanley Kirk Burrell ring any bells? For most of us, it’s just a name. Those Star Trek fans in the house might think ‘Kirk’ referring to Captain Kirk but no.
Stanley Kirk Burrell is better known by his stage name; MC Hammer. Now lights, bells, and U Can’t Touch This are flooding your mind. I don’t know a single person who was young at the time, not wanting a pair of those pants. Many taking the ‘U can’t touch this’ and using it as a personal anthem.
MC Hammer went from what I call a massive fortune of $33 million to flat broke in a highly publicized bankruptcy battle. Bad advice, a lavish lifestyle, debt, payroll; you see where this is heading. Money, money, money.
Most of us grew up with the saying, ‘God works in mysterious ways’. We say this especially when we don’t have all the facts.
Where is MC Hammer now?
“Whether the bankruptcy played any role in my refocusing, that’s great. Hallelujah, I hope it did. But the most important part of what occurred to me was love, missing the love of God in the way that I had known it.” Burrell
If you guessed that he is a preacher now, you guessed right. Can’t you picture MC Hammer as a preacher? God could.
“His new path came after the murder of his pal and fellow rapper Tupac. This was when he became ordained in the Church Of God In Christ.” The Mirror
“There was a time when Hammer went to church six days a week. When asked if he strayed as his fame rose, Hammer was blunt. “Ran from! I ran from being a preacher! I didn’t want to be a preacher. I knew that once I became a preacher that I would be held to more responsibilities. I already had a burden to my community,” he said. Burrell via LA Times
“People are star-struck at first because it’s Hammer. But then you keep coming. You realize he’s extremely knowledgeable about the Bible. It’s rewarding. He’s bringing us closer to God,” said Matt Kelly via LA Times
Think God can’t use you? Think again. Wanna run from God? Run. God has ways of bringing us back to where he wants us to be.
https://www.mirror.co.uk/3am/us-celebrity-news/iconic-90s-rappers-major-career-30904522
Lost Past; A Star Trek Story
Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters.
God
Data moaned rolling over in his sleep. His dream scene changed. She was sitting under one of her giant silver maple trees. “May I ask you something?”
Sher was getting used to the tone of his voice. It didn’t startle her anymore. “Sure.”
“Do you believe in God?” He sat down beside her in the grass.
“Why do you ask?”
“I have been reading about religion. Specifically Christianity. The Soong’s do not believe in divine beings. What do you believe?”
“There was a time in my life, when I was young and didn’t believe in anything. As I get older, I developed a belief in God. You can’t look around you in the cosmos and not believe in something higher than you. Something to give meaning to an otherwise meaningless existence. When you start asking individuals about their faith, your answers are going to be as different as the people themselves. Christianity is just one in millions of belief structures.”
“Why would creatures of higher learning believe in something you cannot see?”
“Look around you and tell me who or what created the first plant?”
“Evolution created the first plants and animals.”
“Evolution. Do we chalk everything up to evolution? Water, plants, animals, birds, you?
“God did not create me, Noonien did.”
“Are you the next course in evolution?”
“No, I cannot reproduce.”
“Just because you can’t reproduce doesn’t mean the world can’t be populated with androids.”
“Interesting theory.”
“Think about it.”
He woke himself up falling out of the bed. He just sat there for a long time thinking about her. “DaTa,” she whispered. Her voice rang through his thoughts. This wasn’t a dream.
“Sher.”
“DaTa, I am sorry.”
“I cannot comprehend this.”
“I know. But you must try to remember.”
“What do I do?”
“Allow the dreams. Don’t open the cell all at once. It will overload your positronic matrix. Forgive me DaTa. I do love you.”
“Sher?”
Her voice was gone. Once again, he was alone. Abandoned. She loved him. Had she always loved him? No, not always. Love developed out of friendship. Did he love her? Yes, he did. So much so that it hurt. He had forgotten about the greatest love of his life.
Stillness
Where is god?
🛑 Adult content, language, drugs, abuse (multiple forms), please read with discretion. May be a trigger for some reader. Reader discretion advised.
This story has massive amounts of adult content. So much out of my wheel house, here’s to something different.
Psalm 21:23
21 Do not let the oppressed retreat in disgrace;
may the poor and needy praise your name.
22 Rise up, O God, and defend your cause;
remember how fools mock you all day long.
23 Do not ignore the clamor of your adversaries,
the uproar of your enemies, which rises continually.
Where is god?
Is there a god? As I sit on the creek bank watching a turtle swim by; I wonder, where’s god? Is he in the grave with my parents? Is he in the sunlight? Is he that turtle? Where’s god?
The tranquility of this scene pulled me to sleep.
I dream.
A man clamors out of the drivers side window of a sideways SUV, falling to the road. “FUCK! What the fuck? Man! Shit!” He shouted as he got to his knees before trying to stand only falling back against the smoking SUV.
A woman finally spoke, “bay-bee, bay-bee? Whur the hell are we? What the fuck did ja hit? I didn’t think a squirrel was soooooo big?” Her greasy bleach blond head peeked out of the window he had fell from.
“Stupid bitch, I didn’t hit a fuckin’ squirrel.”
She falls out of the SUV and lands on her butt on the road, laughing all the way. As she staggers to get up, she notices that her tank top was soaking wet. “Shit! Bay-bee, the beers got me all wet.” Then giggles some more. “Know,” she struggles to stand; “this could be really hot.” She grabs at him. “I could take care of that right now.”
“We got bigger problems.”
She becomes a pile of human drunkenness on the road; sulking in his rejection.
Sirens can be heard in the distance; making themselves known.
“The DRUGS!” They shout together and run in different directions into the morning.
A child; about 3, was sitting in the grass near the smoking SUV watching this scene unfold, with the blank curiosity.
The sound of crickets broke me from my dream. It’s amazing the bullshit we remember. Things I’d much rather forget. But it’s these things that fuel my anger. It’s these nightmares that keep me going. How I hate them.
My stomach growled. ‘Where am I gonna get food?’ I thought rubbing my long thin fingers through my unwashed hair. Then it hit me, ‘Maggie.’
Poetry & More 