The Bald Bomb Shell

"He's hold up in that mountain bunker looking for a fight. Many natives say he's mad, wasp-shook-up-in-a-jar-mad."

"How deep is that mine shaft bunker?"

"Boss, please don't go down there, he ain't worth it. He ain't alone neither, he's got a snotty kid with him. They're religious fanatics boss, and dangerous, trust me boss, I know. The village people say, he only comes out at night. He sets bombs, starts fires, and ravages innocent women. Nobody sees the kid, he never lets her out. If what they say is true, she's nuts too."

The heat of the midday sun shimmered above the jungle canopy. A canvas of greens and yellows painted a picture of what was needed to stay alive on the island. Kill, or be killed, was the jungle motto. The small farmers around the village plowed their fields, and raised what they could. Fear ruled their lives. Babies cried from hunger pains. Off planet land owners and the military looked away, as if they were blind to the situation. Things were bad, real bad...add in a blood-sucking pit viper with a taste for human cruelty, and more people were going to get hurt.

Standing six-foot-two with pecs flexed, cable-steel arms raised two gold cup forty-five automatics, two colt guns, with the kick of a Missouri mule. It was going to be a fight to the death if necessary. So many greedy power hungry bastards made slaves of the poor, causing suffering among good people. Raw power ruled. A pair of broad purple shoulders vowed to change all that.

The two big cats snarled, rubbing their sides along his muscled thighs, deep purrs followed.

"Who loves ya babies?" He said, as he ran the butt-end of his pistols down their arched backs. "Now stand back, I have work to do."

"Boss, that old gold mine has a trap door. I was down there myself, you'll be breaking the planet's military rules. The mining guild in this quadrant stickily forbids outside interference in local affairs. You'll be breaking the law."

"I need a rope, a long rope. Get me two ropes, we'll shinny down that hole somehow."

The Magic of Love

Not so long ago in a place East of a great ocean, and West of the rising sun, a strange story is ofter told about the magic of love and courage.

Deep in a dark pine forest on the side of a raggedy mountain sat a little shack, an enchanted house filled with many wonderful things. It was surrounded by a high hedge of long thorned briers to keep unwanted guests out. Welcomed guests saw only roses of many delightful colours.

On a dark and stormy night when all the evils in the hearts of men were chasing as snow white unicorn, it leaped the high tangled fence in her effort to escape from blood thirsty hunters.

As soon as the unicorn's hooves touched the ground inside the magic garden, she changed into a little girl. Her wavy mane became long blond hair, her four feet, two, her brown eyes, blue. Still shaking in fear and not knowing what to do, the little girl drawing up all her courage, knocked on the old battered door.

The house was dark, yet the door opened, and the little girl stepped inside. Outside the most hideous and evil demon and monsters flew round-and-round the tall thorn hedge. They could not enter the rose-ring garden because of loves magic.

She could hear their screams of anger, hate, and frustration, but they could not enter the garden because the magic was to strong.

"What have we here?" Said Baba Yaga, holding a small lantern in her hand. The girl tried to explain that had happened to her, but a fever of fear and confusion held her words as if caged. The little girl felt like a dumb-bell, a block-head, a fool, and yet out of all the places in the world, she knew she was safe there.

Baba Yaga was not pleased at being awakened so late at night, however, being a kind soul she ushered the little girl into the kitchen, and ask her to sit at the kitchen table. The house was very dark, except for the light Baba Yaga held in her hand.

"What do you want?" she ask.

"Please help me." said the frightened little girl in the only way she knew now. She tried to explain, but it was as if her language was from another realm, and in truth it was. The little girl didn't want to frighten Baba Yaga. The things that had chased her were to horrible to describe.

Not long after their short conversation, Baba Yaga walked the little girl to the fence gate. She murmured words, but the frighted little girl could not understand what she said. Closing the garden gate behind her, the once beautiful snow white unicorn had only forgiveness and love in its heart.

The animals and the trees of the forest whispered to her, "We will protect you, have courage. We will teach you to fight those who like to kill for sport. We will teach you real magic."

The little girl learned many things from her friends in the forest. The magic they share, she used to help others. She returned many times to Baba Yaga's house. They laughed, sang songs, and told many stories together while learning to use their magical gifts.

I Love to Fly

I know how to pilot a plane. Getting off the ground is easy, even in bad weather. I'm just not very good at landing. Now here is a beauty you could land in a hayfield with no problem... as long as no one asks to see my pilot's licence. Hours in the air costs a lot of money...maybe someday I'll be legal again.
"Why walk when you can fly?", as my friend Rita (Bird) is known to say.

The Dance of Pain

Thumb-size cottonballs float,

Q-tip teardrops flick fast from high,

Through grey morning open eye.

Humble blanket warmly awaits the touch.

Nothing sticks, that time is yet to come...

Weeping, seeping, oozing hot from fever wound remembered.

Asciepius scalpel held ready....

Another scaring scar?

Naja coils to strike, somber slumber,

Niki's wings of knowing is nearer than we know.

Truth Bear

In a parallel worlds, reality is not always easy to define. The few who share the ancient blood line of a people from a parallel hidden planet, are able to travel through the dimensions of both worlds.

I am bound by a sacred oath to reveal only what is necessary, for to say more could cause a rift in space to open, spilling matter into antimatter. There are others like myself who were raised on this parallel world thinking something was terribly wrong. A world of angelic-demonic humanoids, devoid of common sense, hellbent on destroying their planet by greed and the enslavement of all what they call, "lesser life forms."

Yes, I was raised on the planet called Earth, but Earth is not my only home. With the aid of a famous Captain, who held my hand, and guided me to the portal between worlds. I am equipped with the ability to travel through space easily. As you may have guessed, the Captain is my hero, and my secret love. He lives on the other side of the one world which is forbidden to me at this time. It is his choice to shoulder the responsibility of saving Earth, and the many who fight for the Republic Federation.

Perry's Pirate Pilot

"If they catch you down there, they'll hang you, or throw you out an open air lock. One way or another, you'll end up dead meat...savvy?"

How does one describe a genetic hybrid humanoid? Captain Björn's name was the only thing normal about him. If he was from Earth; RU-22, 4k9 of the Snoopelite system, or one of the many colonized planets and asteroids in the Republic Federation was a mystery. A six-foot tall, heavy-built hairless sauropod with nasty habit... cannibalism. Being notability known as a killer who ate his enemys, his reputation had followed him from the farside of many galaxys.

"A runt like you won't last a day down there."

Three inch upper and lower yellow incisor-tusks mashed together spraying viscous mucus as he spoke. Stefn Perry wiped his face off with the full length of his shirt sleeve, and stepped back half a dozen steps. Now his back was against the obiting space station's bulkhead. If the big lunker stepped forward, it was going to get real messy. Perry frankly wasn't packing.

"Tell me this, Captain, how do you communicate wearing a space suit? Let me guess, some type of natho-dental-vacuum unit. Am I right?" Perry smiled to himself, knowing Böjrn would either kill him right there and then, or he would negotiate.

"Eh! You, you..." Björn snarled. His black leather outfit creaked when he moved, one boot scraped on the metal floor louder than the racket coming from the bar lounge down the hall. Perry slid his back sideways along the bulkhead as the Captain stuttered in rage. With forty-four discoloured gnashing pearls gaping, Bootstrap Perry hoped he was reading the creature correctly; anthropomorphic communication was his forte. Guareyes popping, large circles of pungent moisture suddenly became visible as the beast lifted his massive arms in a threating posture.

"That hunk of junk you call a cargo freighter probably couldn't make it to the Aragnan star system. I bet you've never set foot on BloriX, have you? You're big, so you like to intimidate...am I right?"

"I kill you Viceroy boy. Sqeesh you like a boeufbug."

"I've never been afraid of drowning, and I like my sourmash with a milgoo chaser. Come on, mama's boy...cut the bad-boy act and let me buy you a shebe brew or two at the bar."

"Whatfurrr..."

"You're a cunning linguist Captain, a loquacious loofah of the lubber line...we have business to discuss.

Chances Are Very Good

Stefn Perry had always been a small man with a big dream. Using his head and his heart, and all the courage he possessed, he had found a perfect Blanchfeur touchstone on a world where life was a memorable adventure, or you died alone with no friends. True, the gem had cost him more than most space travelers were willing to pay. He had paid four years of his life fighting for a chance at happiness. Knowing Captain Bjorn's spacecraft would soon be orbiting above BloriX's blustering stratosphere, Perry prepared for what he hoped would be a new beginning, his second chance. There was only one hitch to his plan. Before discovering the priceless precious gem stone, Stefn Perry was just an ordinary guy... now he was something different, and he was not alone. Deep, miles deep down, while exploring regional ice caves on a journey from his station's outpost, Perry had discovered a clear crystalline crypt of unknown origins, a portal to another world.

Durning the winter months on the spherulite planet, howling storms raged across dark wind swept ice fields. Subzero temperatures dropped below weather instruments reading ability, on those days, only God knew how cold it really was. Even the giant woolly beasts indigenous to BloriX, hybernated in subterrestial ice caves that honeycomb the planet's northern hemisphere. Being the most dangerous planet in the Arangan star system, it is a place of dread and terror. Few had ever dared land a ship on the little known planet, and of those that did...few, very few ever returned to Earth. Stefn "Bootstrap" Perry was one of the lucky ones.

As an amature spelunker, Perry had spent several remarkable years searching for the fabled Blanchfleur touchstone. As a private entrepreneur with no strings attached to any company or government, he had made arrangements with the Captain of a Catalan cargo vessel hauling illegal ore through the outer limits of the Arangan system. Having little to lose, and everything to gain by booking passage with the known scallywag of a pirate, a parley under the most unusual circumstances had taken place between them.

The current rawbone snowstorm continued to batter the lone outpost settlement. For over three weeks grey skies generated tons of new ice, blanketing the already deeply-covered survival station. Stefn wasn't a man to roll over and give up in defeat. Born on the planet Earth, his Scotch-Irish and Native blood ran hot against adversity. His older half brother, Commander Norton Dean Sisiyou had called him a fool. Actually, Stefn enjoyed the planet his brother had nick-named, "The Arktos Ice Hell."

Weeks earlier, Stefn had received an unexpected and somewhat garrulous communication from the Catalan ship's Captain. Translation computers mangled parts of the message due to the atmospheric storm, but enough was readable for Stefn Perry to know that Captain Woodstick Björn had returned as per their agreement. The smisauropod savage with hair may have earned his reputation by "hook, or crook", as the old saying went, but a "deal is a deal."

Ingenuity

Take a Native, mix in a little Canadian Scotch-Irish, and presto! Teamwork.

Window Between Worlds

"You have no idea what I had to go through to earn these gold bars on my shoulders."
"The fruit salad array on your chest gives me a clue to your ranking Commander. I have been told, Special Force Units are on standby alert, and shield forces are holding strong."
Dressed in blue velvet, the spy master's cape draped artfully over the arms of his overstuffed office chair. His smooth voice revealed no emotion, and yet his cold steel-blue eyes were expressive. Wheeling quickly he pointed to the star grid map that flashed on the wall screen.
"You can be assured we are doing everything in our power to find a solution to this delicate situation. I have been informed of your personal involvement."
"Have you? There are things even you don't know. If they harm her, if they hurt her in any way, I will hold you personally responsible."
"Surely Commander you don't hold me responsible in this matter? She is being held prisoner in a fortress of almost unfathomable depth. Just getting messages in and out of that wormhole is tricky business. A faithful courier was killed relaying her recent communication. Do you expect me to send in another courier after that?"
"I expect you to do your job." A meat-hook sized fist slammed down on the oak desk with determination. You have the ability, you must bring her out yourself. "She is...she is my, my..." Bracing both hands on the desktop, Commander Norton Dean Siskiyou leaned forward, his broad shoulders and bull neck ridged.
"Just suppose I get lucky, and suppose you give me access to a warship fitted with special military password protocol...again the spymaster pointed a finger to the star chart. My getting through that outlaw space quadrant is going to be risky business, very risky." The evergreen grid flickered as Commander Siskiyou walked over to the wide-screen. He touched the target area where the women known as Faye Grimm was last reported. Bringing his clinched fist up to his graying temple, he closed his eyes and sighed. "If you get through please give her this, and order her...no, ask her to engage her electro-heating atomic unit. I advise you to stand back, and have your personal shielding unit on high. The Hodag's will have planted one, or more nano bugs. Whatever is bugging at that time will be sent to another plane of existence."
The small blue marble glowed with swirls of white as if it were somehow live. Darou Rudof Treacle closed his bronze fingers over the object that gyrated slowly in the palm of his hand, and carefully slid it into a inside pocket of his lavender velvet robe.
"I will take the brunt of any backlash that may result. What you hold in your hand is classified, top secret; only the scientist that made it, myself, and you know of it's existence."
Standing to his full height of four-foot-three, Darou Rudof gathers several rolled cylinders under his arm, touches his chest, his lips, and his forehead in one fluid motion. "May the spirit of the cosmos guide our steps."
"One more thing Mr. Treacle, I suggest you first visit the planet called Arctos. There is a man, he may be hard to find, and he may not want to help you. If you can convince him how important Faye Grimm is...

The Real Men In My Life

"The Roaster Spit and Newmar's chiffon dragons."

I'm starting to work on a story about my miss adventures as a (excuse the pun) cocktail waitress, and bartender during the seventies in San Fransisco... a happy time before most of my sweet princes died.
This one will cost me a new pair of windshield wipers...

Sometimes it takes several fairy god mothers to give this chicken the courage to take Belly Dance lessons.

"Vida Girl, strut your butt out of that rut, and shake that fantail." They whisper...rather loudly.

Mother Nature's Presence

See, the river ice is melting.
Swimming geese call to me,
Voices singing, "Spring!"
Wonders flow in feeling new life,
Giving my hope more meaning.
This is understanding love.

<:AtomicElement>

Bear in the Woods

In the Fall of 1966 my brother David and I hooked school to go deer hunting, (I should say pouching). It was something we did, not because we loved hunting, it was a necessity.

David and I split-up, he going one way and I another, as we did later in life. I wanted to check out a little meadow that had a creek flowing through it, but to get there I had to walk through a thicket of buck brush. Bear people scare me, always have scared, scare me to this day. I have never had the desire to shoot one, but I would if I had to.

Walking through thick buck brush is looking for trouble. The side of the mountain where I stood was thickly covered, and to walk around was to far. At the time I had a small M1 carbine, and ahead of there were many deer trails, so the going wasn't to rough, just the same my heart was pounding with fear.

Holding the carbine high over my head I waded in. Half-way through the buck brush thinned, and I could see the deep green meadow. The wind must have shifted, because I caught a whiff of scat. Growing up as I did, and having the daddy that I had, hunting and tracking by then was second nature.

I would walk several yards then do a 360 degree turn-around, just to be safe. If you've ever been hunting and had a big doe follow close behind, only to bellow at the back of your neck...well, you learn to turn around once in awhile. I circled around while walking, looking for a good spot to view the meadow. Woo! There in the middle of the path, a big fresh pile of bear scat. Oh god, just my luck. It was late mourning, this stuff was steaming it was so fresh. My knees were shaking as I stooped for a better look, a natural thing to do. I saw David out the corner of my eye on the far side of the meadow, and waved him over.

"Damn! David, look at this bear shit, he's been eating corn." David gave the most disconcerted, disagreeable, disgusted look I ever saw, and walked away cussing me under his breath. I stood there a while before I could put two-and-two together in my head. Then rolled on the ground laughing.

Of course I'll never let him live it down...more ammunition for laughs. I no longer have to carry a gun to hunt food, or to protect myself from man, nor beast. That's a blessing. Now I just carry a big stick, it's called a dictionary; I have a big one, and it's growing. OHooo!

Coyote's Instinct

Miles of broken white-line ribbon snakes across the Nevada flat land as if somehow alive. Dropping down from the foothills, the black-top road ahead shimmers. Earth and sky undulate in unison, making preparation for the hottest day of the year. Rust coloured dirt devils twist along sunbleached fence posts, as a jack rabbit squats in the dirt.

"This will take a minute."

"Hurry up honey. This place gives me the creeps."

Several grasshoppers take flight from an alligator loafer that steps down to the hot pavement.

Without warning, the slamming of the car door, sends the rabbit zigzagging for cover under sagebrush beside a shallow arroyo. In the distance a coyote stops, turning his head towards a high-pitched piercing sound.

"Sweet Jesus, if it isn't Mr. Nixson, you old son of a gun. How long has it been, three, maybe four years? You must be doing real good. Holly Cow! Just look at those fancy shoes." The sidewalk and glass doors in front of the casino glitter in pulsing red and yellow cold neon. Roy Massy's blue eyes sparkled past deep wrinkled leather above an unkempt handlebar mustache. His wide brim Stetson matching his smile.

"Hello Roy! You still working on that ostrich ranch on the other side of Panther Valley?" Nixson looked over the jockey-sized cowboy who stood in front of him; his eyes catching his own reflection in the glass as he adjusted his sun glasses.

"Real sorry to hear about your wife Mr. Nixson. Did they catch who did it?"

Looking Foward To Spring

It's a grey overcast day, I do love the snow tho. Maybe it will snow today. Spring can't be that far away...the smell of new green grass. Of course there will be the weeks of nothing but mud to contend with first. Mic and Sarah's muddy feet to clean before they come back into the cabin, hopefully the water pipes will unfreeze by then...that would be nice. Now I have a deeper meaning to the term "Spring Cleaning".

I like to clean, and after all these months of not having hot and cold running water, I'm going to clean up a storm, then soak in the tub for hours. The simple joy of a shower and clean cloths can be a blessing to look foward to.

How far away is the life I use to know, only memories now, the taste of time past is bittersweet. I was blessed then, and even if at times it's painful to look back, I know that I am blessed today with a most precious gift, this day. May I always remember what my daddy use to tell me when I was a little girl, "Pay attention chickadee, or you'll miss what's really important in life." I may be nothing more than an frowsy frog in a deep well, but my spirit kindles kindly with love and hope. What more of a blessing could my family have given me?

Staying Alive

I will find a way,

Through a jungle of ice.

In the cold of winter's bite,

Bleary-eyed in blind trust,

I will blaze a buoyant trail.

Poppy

Like looking through broken window pane?
Ice fragments are all that now remain?
Casting light on a perfect memory.
Eyes on weeping heart of love,
On history of a dreaming child,
Before the dance of life became,
Fighting shadows rain of lies and hurt.
Blood wine ghosts of family's wounds,
Whispers softly, "Trust is now responsibility."
Time flows through you to choose.
Bitter sweet, as cold teeth bite deep.
Society rules who's fit for life?
Outside sign reads, "This property is condemned".
A soul's closed door, hinge broken into.
Fight on, perservere
Never to forget, mending mire.
The threatening thraws of scoffing maw.
Stand up with no regret, regrow glad-hand.
Stand, stand, stand up sweet mavin.
Strong is the Raven's Knight.
Wing-shield of rainbow colours above,
Brave is love adore your paladin.

My Sarah

You are spots and dots, my dappled friend,

A perfect black diamond at your peak.

Love is all you give me,

Love is all I seek.

We walk this road together,

You always at my side,

Astride we stroll, our footfalls,

A rhymic rhythem glide.

Life springs green,

Through Summers dust, Autumns leaves,

The white of Winters snow.

To the time of days,

Through months and years we go.

May the loylity in me,

Match the nobility in you.

"A teacher's pet" some may say,

And that very well may be true,

But which is the teacher,

You on your four feet,

Or me on my two?

Remembering You

So many years have gone by,

So much in me has changed,

So much of you in me remains.

All the love of who you were,

Is so much of who I am.

May, 23, 2007

No claw paw can hold me,

Soft lips touch my ear.

This spirit runs free.

An open palm waves,

Sweet in the scent of your hand.

To touch, to taste, to tickle,

The thrill gentle, fan of colour,

Gift sent from my mother.

Be free and fly if you choose,

And stay with me awhile.

Honey words of love my muse,

Drift down from above...

Getting Real

Ever been so cold and hungry, so lonely, that you are willing to rip your guts out and eat'm for breakfast? I feel like a junkyard dog behind a cyclone fence who has been teased, stick poked, and baited beyond the point of sanity. Society tells me, "be good, keep quite, go lay down".
What a mind job. Ferruled is my lilac walking stick. Named her "Herrenvolk thumper", and I plan to use it because I know how.