120713
combined 05:11 gruel & 120713
10:29 imperfect
120713
05:11 gruel
We are
condemned to life without knowing we're in captivity for only a time
To learn to love and be love given wholly free no coupons required &
in some sense I don't at the moment fully apprehend when we get to go
Home.
Get it
stupid?
You &
I are in kindergarten yet metaphorically we've never left.
I had a
cat black & white acquired from Woodstock, Illinois from a woman
who rescued animals abused and abandoned. . . . Think about Bill
Murray and his punishment . . .
I
wanted the cat as a companion for my friend Rags so named because
otherwise he would merely be called “cat: gray & white” he
reminded me of L. L. Bean's wonderful wool & cotton socks I
called 'rag socks' of which I had so many pairs I simply washed them
all together at once in cold water Tide with red boxer shorts &
the white panties stolen or acquired or torn off – well only in the
best time of my life delivering newspapers before electric clothes
dryers I'd spot them adoringly titillatingly flirting inciting in the
breeze – at other times I'd raid laundry hampers soiled always more
better better yet mostbestus something like asbestos but not lethal &
if really possessed and/or inspired I'd sneak into houses to see what
I could find to take out like a drive through smorgasbord U know
those “Don't Deliver on Vacation” occasionally she'd come to the
door and give little johnny her son's friend the subscription payment
in panties clutching a moist towel to her wet body not creamy jeans
but volcanic eruptions in my mind
Odd I
could keep my cool and pretend not to be stepping on my tongue or
otherwise addled Then wearing one pair the other over my head the
last wrapped around my scepter I mean penis I'd have and soul
depleting spend if they were mom's i'd be very careful to leave no
traces at the departure point or what the Brits call euphemistically
an/the “Arrival”
Take
little snarky Stephen's enormous mom her preference was for nylon –
cotton boring I'd like to destroy Jockey – lace nice to look at but
scratchy no not into pain or groups or abuse of any kind merely dude
to dudedette Her's were approximately the size of a circus tent
before erection not and add insult to injury she hoarded pantyhose
that invention I would retroactively abort at death they were found
in fishbowls filled with quarters beneath and behind piles of
National Geographic like national monuments high with tiny
passageways and littered across the kitchen nook table were dildo
catalogs guess dad couldn't get it up past seventy two I have only a
few months before becoming useless myself yet on a good day I can see
forever!?
Normally
I say in the Mens Locker room “I'm still (instead of vertical to
women only more often than not) erect and salute the flag seeing Old
Glory and I'm looking at the right side of the grass.” Something
like Grand Old Party but I digress . . .
Some
women I can crank up yet they while laughing are essentially some
other dude's bookend dead to me and of those I get to 'know' better
they too take more time than it's worth since I fall asleep between
their thighs not sighing but snoring with lockjaw limp no reward the
salute Grand Old Party of The Glory flapping.
yapping?
Well
dear friend and brother Saint Thomas Aquinas move over it's my turn
now.
She,
Janina, my sister was a kind & loving six I twelve she scratching
my back, mom & dad absent at a party getting hammered he returned
her straight stiff as a board over his shoulder One time he with
everything packed in his care left; “You're in charge.” and left.
So we
were alone I cannot for the soul of me understand why she took off
her clothes displaying her Mount of Venus to me for observation come
later obsession well I'm a Boy still and She a Girl still even now we
love one another we're family.
I said
it's time for bed she dressed then undressed into her Doctor Dentons
and went to sleep I shortly followed in my own bed.
Cup'pla
weeks later she raised her skirt in -- what – kindergarten or first
grade in the cloak room. Then my banishment began.
Mom
already given to violent erratic behavior sober or intoxicated went
not ballistic but nuclear accusing us of incest
Janina
off to the gynecologist maidenhead check
Johnny
put in “Coventry” fed, clean clothes but otherwise not addressed
with anything but flaming eyes silence for mor3e than a year or
more-or-less
In all
the traumas from shortly after birth my mind flat lined a roaring
white static leaving me emotionless for all intents and purposes a
dead child standing staring and it drove her insane or maybe more so
than before she wiped the walls with my excrement or threw me naked
in November out the back door the lock snicking memory is a strange
and wondrous consciousness
Dad
found me after all the times he stood silent witness to her madness
me upside face down in an oak high chair screaming the oatmeal my
daily bread floor to ceiling at twelve years of age running away in
the Innis Arden Golf Course – can't remember what hole but
somewhere in the middle how he found me and took me back to what?
So
began my slavery to him & the other half of the god head No more
summers with my beloved Mama Lu . . . as Jung said “The Great
Mother” true . . . my maternal grandmother the other Nora nude with
dignity taught me how to tie my shoes still remembered with love too.
The paternal one.
Devolved
into anytime they could leave they did with me more-or-less in charge
in time their absence would grow longer from a day or two to ten then
fourteen or so returning mother put roses in the bidet a tip he'd
given them to her can't remember how many times they returned from
various trips dad wanted to take singly See he never paid her for
24/7/365 slavery to him as she once told me at something like
nineteen He wanted a whore & The Virgin Mary Me he paid minim
wage for a six day week stint I ran away again in junior high school
she saw me I didn't stop running across fields parking lots and
penniless boarded a train she behind me in an idling previously used
Cadillac the light changing green to red The conductor asked for my
ticket then money I flimflammed him saying I was off to college and
mom had wired the money ahead I jumped off in North Brotherly Love
Philadelphia rolling down the gravel rail bed walking into town saw a
woman drug to a car I started to intervene and she plead with me not
too, silent, with her eyes moving on I hitchhiked to Cincinnati to
see Mama Lu were my only knowing of a home was I was reading “A Day
On Fire” biography of Charles Baudelair Big for my age from
thirteen playing sexual games with eighteen year old female at Summer
Music Camp my pal the blind one groping them openly they giggling
like when you . . . isn't Google just fucking wonderful couldn't
remember your middle name Edward or Norman Spratt.
Google
it Abusive father fucker abuser of my daughter calling her “NIGGER”
. . . sexual predator Brother fucker what a leader you will make of
men typical of those you served your Country so anally with in the
Pentagon as a civilian sub-contractor making $150,000 ~ $180,000 per
annum. . . . (note: anal retentive) . . . in Google proper their
Chrome Browser though they know I like looking at naked women . . .
just put it in the address line
. . . I
digress, sorry bout that
oh!
yeah Standing beside a dead naked limbs truncated no bark tree *
. . . *
My idiot editor who knows even less than the idiot author of this who
knows nothing about the art and craft of writing left hanging at me
the 'editor/author' @ the tree . . . in a olive corduroy jacket
rumbled starving penniless as I am and will remain until I die my
thumb out little to no traffic . . . along comes a '52 Chevy coupe
somewhat greenish packed front to back with father mother and maybe
five to seven children of mocha color maybe Mexican or Native
American with a few African American genes to lend spice . . . they
stopped made room for and fed me lovingly all the way to Cincinnati .
. . go back to the
. . .
another story sometime . . . like the one in my dream with Jesus
crying abused . . . oh before I forget since Google now knows
everything like The Thought Police and Rapist Incorporated The
Patriot Act I also have a kink MILF mothers Id like to Fuck or in
your case simply Mother Fuckers and since I know you very well from
many conversations and you're being AC/DC minor flourish drum roll
please FATHER FUCKER as well; are you please putz weenie boy I imply
nothing by the following yet should God get His Hands on you as He
did me . . . well he's considerably more forgiving and merciful than
I Yet should you make amends make amends restoring some small
fraction of what you stole from my sister . . . forget me . . . I too
may forgive you are you will return as dear old dad once described of
others he didn't like: A butt boy in a Calcutta Whore House for
Elephants, rectum approximately the size of your greed.
I'm
convicted of the following, I should have said, considering the
performance – You are Republican – aren't you? Synonymous with
greed avarice unconscionably rude to the last in line where you will
find a permanent home as in the beatitudes mention '.. the meek shall
inherit the earth .. ' . . . fond of Elephants? Of course you are.
Leaping
Saint John on a pogo stick this is more complex than War & Peace
mating with Ulysses of Joyce not Alfred, Lord Tennyson
. . . a
brief, as in granny panties, better to wear since lacking hips they
don't fall down make me slip off the bed and have on average larger
Ball Rooms – obviously no problem for you bro since even your
mothers would be like a nightgown to swim in don't you know little
cock? One ball wonder!
. . .
on a brief aside I will forgive you since I loved you then and now,
remember “Dove” solo sailing around the world; the inscription?
For your birthday? Though penniless dad's calling me before dying
took a longtime to recognize as peer friendship his greatest gift to
me was he himself . . . and that is priceless since it never runs
out. There is no end to love, empathy mercy, forgiveness the highest
of these
amen
PS
there is more. Where do you think this shit comes from? Make believe?
&
Knowing God I would be known better for honest transparency “To
See, To Walk, To Talk and love Thee more Dearly Day by Day more Daily
and I have no fear of death or pain for I so love Thee
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070121/
120713
10:29 imperfect
Always
a contender
a
wannabe no champion advocate instead
I met
and photographed clerics & priests & sisters/brothers
religious & others whole or holy unknown
from
whom unsolicited I received confessions to which I replied whether
explicit implied or merely prayed for now & then & continuous
within the Prayer Wheel of me my mind
Silently
requesting; 'pray for me a sinner too – Go forth and sin no more.
Amen'
And if
remembered my pain and suffering so complex as theirs – I'd add:
“Rejoice
in the Lord, I will say again: Rejoice!”
http://bible.cc/philippians/4-4.htm
. . . .'in all things are Heaven sent'
Weeping
now it is not for what was written by/for me The Author of us all who
loves all persons born beyond all reason in all seasons of suffering
and pain; the former is choice the latter is inevitable
No
punishment intended no grief required
Once I
was falsely accused of raping my sister and thus made an emotional
unicorn/ castrato/eunuch
abused and neglected from infancy
until I became large & wise enough to engage my mother in any way
to survive the depredations of her imaginings.
My
favorite. We'd been chasing the cat out from under my bed laughing at
his, “Smudge”, escaping our gentle prodding the brush end of a
broom. Unbeknownst Mother during arrived later on sharing coffee I
intuited her agitation whereupon I calmly placed my half filled cup
upside down Her nascent obloquy leached fled forgotten like Smudge
his hair ball deposited on the floor not the rug. Let me see now
between 12 and 16/17 the second accusation.
It is
through this experience that I write having empathy for those who
civilian or cleric abuse sexually/physically/emotionally
child/adult/animal/Earth – faith in forgiveness none perfect all
learning before being judged by He who walks with us silent unseen.
Little
confident in my current play with words & God i sense whether by
resurrection or reincarnation those of us consciously mindful
pass/fail will return to attempt to graduate the school of Hard
Knocks
Had I
not forgiven my baby half-brother half flesh of me and dad I'd die of
shame with him still a monkey on my back.
© 2012
by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved
