Hi Jake, thank you for sending these to Synchronized Chaos! Appreciate the satire and the speculative bits of your work. We’ll publish in September!
As always, please feel welcome to comment on pieces at synchchaos.com. We all appreciate feedback!
Cristina
President of the Smithsonian
President Al Wilson
Not content with taking.
Over the Kennedy Center
As part of the MAGA movement
Culture war against the communists
Radical left-wing Marxist
Enemies of real America.
Had described that the Smithsonian.
Must reflect traditional American values.
And avoid divisive or anti-American.
Or anti-Christian propaganda.
Therefore, he decreed,
The African American Studies Museum
Must close,
The African Art Museum
Must close.
The American Indian Museum
Must close.
The Smithsonian must be color blind.
And not to mention race or gender
Slavery or the treatment of American Indians,
And the whole Chinese Exclusion Act
And internment of Japanese Americans
Which was a good thing,
Or the holocaust, for that matter.
End anti-American, Anti-Christian,
Anti-MAGA, cultural Marxism
Radical lunatic left, CRT, DEI
And WOKE programming.
Throughout the Smithsonian.
The African American museum holdings
And the American Indian Museum
And the African Art Museum
Will be sold off at an auction.
So the president decreed
MAGA baby all the way
RESTORING TRUTH IN AMERICAN HISTORY: Today, President Donald J. Trump signed an Executive Order restoring truth and sanity to American history by revitalizing key cultural institutions and reversing the spread of divisive ideology.
President Trump aims to ensure that the Smithsonian is an institution that sparks children’s imagination, celebrates American history and ingenuity, serves as a symbol to the world of American greatness, and makes America proud.
The Order directs the Vice President, who is a member of the Smithsonian Board of Regents, to work to eliminate improper, divisive, or anti-American ideology from the Smithsonian and its museums, education and research centers, and the National Zoo.
The Order directs the Administration to work with Congress to ensure that future Smithsonian appropriations: (1) prohibit funding for exhibits or programs that degrade shared American values, divide Americans by race, or promote ideologies inconsistent with Federal law; and (2) celebrate women’s achievements in the American Women’s History Museum and do not recognize men as women.
The Vice President will work with congressional leaders to appoint members to the Smithsonian Board of Regents who are committed to advancing the celebration of America’s extraordinary heritage and progress.
The Order also directs the Secretary of the Interior restore Federal parks, monuments, memorials, statues, markers, or similar properties that have been improperly removed or changed in the last five years to perpetuate a false revision of history or improperly minimize or disparage certain historical figures or events.
In preparation for the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 2026, the Order directs the Secretary of the Interior to complete restorations and improvements to Independence Hall by that date.
COMBATING CORROSIVE IDEOLOGY: In the last decade, Americans have witnessed a concerted effort to rewrite American history and force our nation to adopt a factually baseless ideology aimed at diminishing American achievement. President Trump is fighting back by reestablishing truth in the historical narrative and restoring Federal sites dedicated to American heritage.
The prior administration pushed a divisive ideology that reconstrued America’s promotion of liberty as fundamentally flawed, infecting revered institutions like the Smithsonian and national parks with false narratives.
At Independence National Historical Park in Philadelphia, the Biden Administration sponsored training by an organization that advocates for dismantling “Western foundations” and that taught Park Rangers that their racial identity should dictate how they present history to visitors.
The Smithsonian Institution—once revered throughout the world as a symbol of American excellence—has recently promoted divisive ideology that American and Western values are harmful.
The American Art Museum currently features an exhibit that purports to address how “sculpture has been a powerful tool in promoting scientific racism” and claims that the United States has “used race to establish and maintain systems of power, privilege, and disenfranchisement.”
The National Museum of African American History and Culture has proclaimed that “hard work,” “individualism,” and “the nuclear family” are aspects of “White culture.”
The American Women’s History Museum plans to celebrate male athletes participating in women’s sports.
CELEBRATING AMERICAN GREATNESS: President Trump is committed to honoring America’s extraordinary heritage and building a sense of national pride.
President Trump signed an Executive Order on his first day in office to establish a task force to prepare for America’s 250th birthday.
This Order also protects America’s monuments from vandalism and calls for construction of the National Garden of American Heroes.
President Trump signed a memorandum ensuring Federal buildings reflect the timeless grandeur of traditional, classical architecture.
By signing this Executive Order, President Trump is ensuring that American history is celebrated accurately, fairly, and with pride—honoring the remarkable progress, liberty, and ingenuity that define our great nation.
Meanwhile, In The Real World, You Can Be Fired For Going To The Doctor
Meanwhile
In the real world
You can be fired
For going to the doctor
.
the worker’s bosses.
Can refuse to let workers
go to the appointment.
As they are not required
To grant them leave
sick leave.
Bad for the bottom line
And they have no empathy
For workers.
Who are seen as
Merely disposable, interchangeable
Labor units of production.
Who should be replaced
By robots
as soon as possible.
People will be given a choice.
Go to work, gravely ill.
Or go to the EER.
And six hours later
Perhaps see an overwhelmed doctor
And told me to follow up.
With your primary care doctor.
Who the hell knows.
Who that is any more?
You get the bill
10,000 dollars,
Pay up sucker!
No money?
Not my problem.
And go back to find.
You have been fired.
For leaving or not showing
Up for your shift.
Doctors visit?
That’s not my problem.
You are going to die.
So be it.
We can find other workers.
Or robots to take your place.
Loser.
President Al Wilson Reverses Course on Climate Change, From Denial to Action in the Wake of National Catastrophe
With the destruction of most of Florida—including Mar-a-Lago—
Monster storms ravaging Texas,
And Los Angeles reduced to ash
By earthquake and fire,
President Al Wilson finally decided:
Climate change is real.
It is killing people—
Especially in red states
.
The costs of rebuilding are horrific.
The costs of doing nothing?
Even worse.
His advisors, once cautious, now urgent,
Convinced him to embrace
a rapid shift to green energy.
Solar, wind, geothermal—no longer fringe,
Now the backbone of survival.
And beyond Earth,
Plans accelerate for lunar and Martian colonies,
With NASA’s bioregenerative greenhouses already in prototype.
Underground cities, domed habitats—once sci-fi,
Now contingency plans.
Wilson must work with the world.
Not just to lead,
But to redeem.
If he fails,
And the world turns
into a hellscape man created,
History will remember him
As the worst leader
in human memory.
But if he succeeds—
If he reverses course,
And actually solves the problem—
He could be hailed
As the savior of humanity.
Doing something to change the future
Is good politics.
Continued climate denialism
Is bad politics.
And so,
He reverses course.
MAGA Dreams Come True
President AL Wilson
Had a dream
The MAGA dream
Coming true!
This time will be different
The internet and AI
Will be used
To make sure
That MAGA rules
And Christian values
Take over.
LGBT folks
Back in the closet
Where they beyond.
Women’s rights curtailed
Minorities deported.
Media tamed
The public distracted
By the latest fake
Celebrity scandal.
The rich live very well
With robot servants
Self-driving vehicles
Great health care.
Maybe even cloned body parts
But the poor
Will barely live
But who cares about them?
MAGA, Baby
The real scandal
The taking over
Of democracy
By the oligarchs
Not talked about.
The secret camps
Filled with people
Who disappear.
Climate change
well the rich
Can live on
In walled off
underground shelters.
The rest of the public
Who cares?
And so it goes
Democracy dies
In broad daylight
MAGA baby!
Bad Craziness Rising
Walking into the Cosmos Bar
In Soi Cowboy in Bangkok
The City of Lost Angels.
That nefarious den
of iniquity and evilness
Twenty drinks too sober.
I sat down at that bar
Watching the mad scene unfold
The naked ladies dancing.
Drinking one scotch, one bourbon
And one Singha beer.
With my buddies.
the whole motley
Jack Daniels crew.
Drinking with Mr. Baker Beam, Jim Beam, Mr. Blanton
Mr. Booker, Elijah Craig, Jack Daniels
George Dickel, Thomas H. Handy, Basil Haydens
Henry McKenna, Old Mr. Forester, Mr. Jameson
Mr. Nester, David Nichols, Benjamin Prichard,
George T. Stagg, Colonel E.H. Taylor,
Johny Walker, Evans Williams, William Larue Weller
W.L. Weller Pappy Van Winkle, and his old Grand Dad.
The scent of bad craziness
Hung in the air like
A sexed-up durian fruit.
an over-ripe mango girl
Desperately seeking to have sex
With wild, dressed-up bananas
Running around with the Orange Man.
Down the Street,
the Moon, looks out on the mad scene
Sniffs the air, saying,
“Man, this is bad craziness”
And runs away to join her lover the Sun
In an orgy of drunken forgetfulness
The Planet Mars, not amused, chases after the maiden Venus
Under the cold, calculating glances of the Planet Pluto
The Moon and the Sun rent a room in the Hotel Venus
Across from the Jupiter All Night Diner
Cosmic shit kickers, out for a night of Earth bashing
The Earth trembles, shaken
Moans with passion, and I awake
Saying, that was bad craziness.
Out there on the edge
Between the inner me and the outer zone
I went on down that road heading to hell
Just as fast as I could drink it all down.
And met me a lady, an outlaw lady on the far side.
Money, power, and passion rolled up in a bundle
Electric chemistry fills my head,
Zapping my brain into demented muscles
As I give in to the
“bao bao ya yah Madi “ madness
Bad craziness overwhelmed me.
All around me.
As paranoid, pulsating images scream out
With mad passion, and demented noises
The night turns ugly fast
And very, very weird
Weirdness in the air
The scent of bad craziness.
As the wild things come out to play.
The moon is freaked out
The Sun falls asleep in the gutter
And I say to myself, I’m just another cosmic Guy
On the loose, on the edge, on the wild side of things
Watching the show unfold, I wonder,
Is this all nothing but a cosmic drunken bum show?
Who is the star, who is she – the naked maiden up there in the bar
Black, leather jackets on stage naked visions of nightly lust
Dancing with an attitude that could kill an elephant in heat
And the Moon continues to dance across the evening sky
Satisfied, allows mankind to sleep it off.
Yet another night in the city of demented lunatic hell’s angels
Finally, rest as the sun comes up casting its evil eye over the sleeping city
Dispelling the bad craziness for a spell.
Blasting the wild things back to hell.
The masks come back on
And I walk down the road
Putting everything back into the box.
Until the next night of bad craziness
Let’s the wild beast within
Escape its leash.
Bad craziness rising yet again.
America, Where Are Thou?
I used to live in a place
Called the United States of America
A republic – the first and last hope of mankind
The land of the free, the home of the brave
The envy of the world
The land of the American dream
And now, I am afraid
That the Star-Spangled Banner
No longer flies
Over the land of the brave
And the home of the free.
I wake up
The red, white and blue
Have been overwhelmed
The dark forces of the red states
Have overwhelmed the light of the blue states
Have trounced the reason offered by the Blue States
And the white forces
Lie trembling in fear
I tried to escape
The darkling night
The ever-glowing Orange alerts
And escape somewhere
The leader of the country
The new uncrowned Empire
Rules over us all
Empire Triumphant
Against all enemies
The USA is number one
We chant and scream
And watch FOX TV
As we march off to war
The rest of the world
Trembles in fear at our might
We rule – we rock and roll, and are triumphant
Against all enemies, dissenters, and foreigners
The U.S. marches on to victory
Freedom is on the march
Liberation is at hand
As the rich gather gleeful
Contemplating the plunder of the state
And the poor grow more desperate
I cry out for the country that I have lost
Whose soul has been lost
And the end of the Republic
For which I believed
The empire has won
Long Live the new Caesar
Long Live the New American Empire
Death to all its enemies
As the dream fades into a nightmare
I cry knowing that we have all lost
The last best hope of mankind
Lives buried in the ash heap of history
Tyranny in the guise of Democracy
Rules us all forever and ever
And that flag
The star-spangled banner
Does not wave anymore
Over the land of the free
And the home of the brave
Waiting For The Rapture
While I was sitting on the crowded subway train
Reading the corporate spoon-fed false propaganda news
While commuting from my suburban townhouse
Watching the lies masquerading as so-called truth news.
I became consumed
With dread, fear, and grief,
The ever-growing fear that the terrorists
Have won the war against terrorism.
We’ve given our freedom away
Dissent is un-American, anti-Christian,
and unpatriotic.
“Shut your face, you whiny leftist girlie man
Communist, fascist, Marxist hoodlum punk
Radical left-wing vermin, garbage person,
Un-American terrorist supporting, Tersymps,
Trans gendered, LGBTQ supporting,
wimpy assed piece of crap”
You are poisoning the pure blood
of our great land
Show us your papers, prepare to be deported,”
Growls the voice of the One True American party
The party that controls our life, rules our very existence
And I want to escape these dark nightmarish times
All around me, but there is nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide anymore, no one cares
What I think anyway.
The terrorists lurk behind every door
Who are the terrorists?
They are not me
I am a god-fearing white Christian man
The terrorist does not go to my church
He does not even believe in my God..
He is a heretic, a Muslim fanatic
A non-believer in Jesus, not like me
They must be killed, exterminated
All according to God’s plan
This has been revealed
to our Prophet in chief
King Donald Trump
, the invincible
Must learn how to believe again
I must reprogram myself
God is watching us, or is it big Brother
As the world descends into chaos
And the Orange alerts
grows brightly day by day
I lay down to pray for the bombs to fall
For the rapture to take me away
Waiting for the end of existence
Cleanse the world of its sins
Bring on the rapture, sweat nuclear flames
With these dismal thoughts
I pick up my newspaper
and look for something
I will never find there.
Truth is nothing but lies
Lies promoted by the spinmeisters
The true masters of the Universe.
Integrity is nothing but a lie
Nothing but a game.
Slime oozes out
of every corner of the media
And so I remain consumed
by dread, fear, and hatred.
Waiting in vain for the rapture
The dropping of the big one
Waiting for the
end of this period of chaos.
It is all going according to plan
The end of the era
according to the ancient Mayan
Revelations and the Koran.
Bring on the rapture
Let me meet my god
If he exists.
If not the hell ahead
Is surely better than this hell
We live in.
One Night in Bombay, India
bombay pictures
One wild night in Bombay, India
I walked into an evil bar 20 drinks too sober
On the wicked wrong end of a Friday night booze run.
On the bad side of the Moon over by where the Martian dudes
Sat drinking their Martian whisky, ogling the Venus maidens.
Leering at the earth women who were walking by
Wearing skin-tight pants made their eyeballs hurt.
I gave in to the spirit and went over to the Martian dudes
And got drunk on the Martian madness, shot after shot
Smoking some good old-fashioned Mars dust.
And flew off to the planet Jupiter
Just to have me some fun with a lady
Who said she was from Saturn?
I did not know she was from the planet Pluto.
Until I woke up the next day, naked, under the alien Sun
In jail on the Planet Alpha Centura, light-years from home,
A million miles away, a thousand years in the future
And I had no money, no honey, no way home.
Still 20 drinks too sober, I just sat down in that jail
And started drinking away my time
Drinking fine cold assed Centurion wine
and Pluto Whisky.
One day I woke up
and found me back in Bombay
Standing outside that evil bar
in the miasmic mist
Over by the Martian whorehouse,
down by the Gate of India
And I walked up to
the Saturn-Pluto babe
And said,
“Man, that was some bad shit
Bad craziness.”
Let’s do it again someday,
she smiled, and I had my way
Knew the day would come again.
When I would be drinking with the Martians
And something wicked my way would come
Just another night of wicked fun
On the wrong side of the Moon
On the right night
in the mean streets of Bombay.
Just AN Unhinged Lunatic Howling AT THE Moon
On a moonlit late-night
I sat in the Cosmos Bar
In Soi Cowboy
Drinking drams of demented,
fermented dream dew
With one scotch, one bourbon. and one beer
To chase it all down.
Twenty drinks too sober.
Just an unhinged lunatic
Dreaming of howling
at the super full moon.
Watching the world walk by
Looking at all the fine-looking babes
Walking by the street
Thinking wild, erotic thoughts
Of endless wild libertine passions.
When into the bar
Walked the most beautiful women
In the Universe.
So wild, so free
So wonderfully alive.
I did not know what to do
As this carnal, deprave
lustful vision of delight
Sauntered through the bar
In a skin-tight leather pants
Looked so fine
That my eyeballs hurt
And finally
I had to say something
So I gathered up
My manly courage
And walked up to her
And she looked at me
And instantly
Bewitched my soul
Mesmerizing me
With a devilish grin.
I lost all reason
And became a raving lunatic
Unhinged lunatic
Howling at the moon.
Foaming at the mouth
A wild, free werewolf
Howling at the lunatic light
Of the full Moon
Poetry from Jake Cosmos Aller (one of nine poems)
God’s Confession
I was sitting alone
In a god-forsaken bar
the Cosmos Bar in Soi Cowboy
Bangkok, Thailand
On the lunatic fringes of society
Twenty drinks too sober
In the ass end of
a Friday night booze binge
On the bad part of town
Over by railroad tracks
Heading to hell
As fast as I could drank it down
Enjoying my lonely drink
Drinking by my lonesome self
With my partners Jimmy Bean, Jack Daniels, The Walker brotherEvan Williams And his old Granddad
Just drinking one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer
This writing was accepted
for publication in the
108 page perfect-bound ISSN# /
ISBN# issue/book “Sprung from Grief”
Down in the Dirt, v184
(the June 2021 Issue)Order the paperback book:
When I was young and foolish
Broke and stubborn
I hitchhiked across the USA
Started in Salt Lake City
Where my greyhound bus pass
Was stolen
The station manager
Could have helped me
But refused to do so
Threaten to call the cops
When I grabbed my bags Without the stolen tags
I said
Go ahead
But I am so out of here
Wondered about Salt Lake City
Went to a bar
Found I had to buy my booze
Next door
And they would mix it for me
Had to order food too
After a bloody Mary
And a burger
I walked about town
Saw the Mormon Temple
Finally about 3 pm
It was time to hit the road
Did not look back
Ended up in Cody Wyoming
Got a room shower
Steak beer
Using my rapidly depleted cash Spent 25 dollars
Money really went far
Back in those days
A band of professional
Communist agitators
Gave me a ride
To Des Moines
Lots of weed, booze
And politics later
Got off the road
Slept outside
Next day
A beautiful woman
Drove me to near Chicago
In a red mustang
Might have been
The girl in the song
Took it easy
Digging her vibe
She invited home
But was not sure
If her estranged husband
Would welcome me
So, I am being foolish
And inexperienced with women
Did not go to her place
And always regretted
That I had lost
My chance that day
Then on to Chicago
Several rides later
Visited friends
Hit the road again
A series of uneventful rides
With truckers
And others
And a week later
I ended in New York City
Slept along the way
In cars
In truck stops
In high way rest stops
Always moving
Always going
Non stop talking
And lots of free weed
And beer
And conversation
One more memorable ride
Occurred outside Albany
On my return to Chicago
A middle age creepy looking man
Picked me up
In a brand-new Cadillac
He was he said a dynamite deliverer
For the Mafia
Went to various places
To blow up shit
He hated a lot of people
Particularly hippies from California
And Jewish people
Looking at me to confirm
That I was both
I told him that I lived in New York
And had never been to California
And although I might have looked Jewish
As I what was called back in the day
A “Jewfro”
I was not Jewish
Many years later I discovered
That I am indeed part Jewish
But then I did not know
And I felt a bit of strategic information
Might keep me alive
Then I realized that he was just jiving with me
And we relaxed
And he pulled out some weed
And beer
And we mellowed out
But I believe that he really was with the mob
Perhaps not a dynamite dealer
A real made Italian made mafia member
By Chicago
I had enough
I called my Dad
Told him what had happened
Wanted a ticket home
And he sent me a ticket
And 500 dollars
And I went home
I told him I would tell him
My tales some day
But never did
I learned so much
About my fellow Americans
And the strange vibe
That was 1975
And now it is too late
But I wanted to finally
Tell the world
In India, several years ago
A man falsely claimed his brother
Was dead so he could inherit the family assets,
The dead brother had to fight
To be declared legally not dead
And contest the will.
“The Association of the Living Dead”
Became a movement
Of thousands of people.
For in India apparently,
It was a thing to declare
Your relative is dead.
While reading Charles Bukowski poetry
On the metro ride home
Listening to Buddha bar music
On my oh too hip IPod
I begin to see myself as I was
Over 30 years ago when I was merely a bit player
A minor character in a Charles Bukowski poem
A wild young underemployed intellectual
Hanging out in dismal bars and dives all over Asia and California
Hanging with disreputable women and drunks and drinkers
And characters out of his kinds of haunts
A mad poet bard of the underground
A drunken poet in a drunken bum show
That nightly played in his head
Then one day I met the women of my dreams
And went down a different path
A long slow path to respectability
And now 30 years later
I am no longer a wild man
I am still a poet at heart
But I am now also a bureaucrat
In a button down suite
Doing the people’s business
Working for the Government
I’ve become the Man
Sometimes I wonder
Would I have been better off
Going down that another path
Would I have ended up
Somewhere else
Doing something else
Would I have been as happy
Would I have been as successful?
There is no answer that satisfies
The longing in my heart
For that wild thing
That still lurks beneath
It’s civilized cover
And I know that I am still
A mad poet at heart
Railing against the injustice of the world
As I work day by day in the belly of the great beast of State
I recall the ancient Chinese saying,
“Confucian during the day while Taoist rebel at night”
Playing out in my head and nightly dreams
In the true American Upper class patrician tradition
I close the book and look out the window
Get off the train, and walk slowly home
And realize I had no choice
But to take the path that I’ve trodden on
And so I put aside my misgivings
And say goodbye to my “Bukowskian”desires
For another night of domestic contentment
Was it worth it all to take the conventional path
And not take the bohemian road to hell and back
I look at my wife and realize
I had no choice, had no choice
But to follow her to the ends of the earth
And beyond by her side as we walked our path
Of shared destiny
Goodbye Charles Bukowski wherever you are
May I meet you in a bar in the next life
And figure out where we should have gone
This writing was accepted
for publication in the
108 page perfect-bound ISSN# /
ISBN# issue/book “Prayers and Bullets”
Down in the Dirt, v181
(the March 2021 Issue)Order the paperback book:
If you’ve been around
If you’ve been around
As much as I have
Decades of memories
Fill up your brain’s hard drive
Remembering the dead
Misremembering the living
Seeing the past fly past
Everywhere you go
Thinking about things
You did and did not do
As your life begins to fade
Sinking into lost worlds past
Seeing the ghosts
Of all you knew
Whispering Soon you will
Be joining us
After every incident
Of mass gun violence
In the U.S.
Pictures emerge
Of the killers
Almost always white men.
Who stares out at you
With soulless dead eyes
Filled with hate, fear
And shear madness.
With the thousand-year stare
Of the madman
Who only hears
The voices in his head
Screaming kill them all
Kill them all.
And as always
They usually legally bought
The guns.
This case was a bit different
The gunman briefly had his guns
Taken away from him
And his 60 knives as well
Judged temporarily too crazy
To have a gun.
But the red flag law
Is not a permanent ban
As it should be.
And so he was able
To re-arm himself
With the best weapons
In the world
At a very affordable price.
Thanks to the NRA.
And so he was soon lost
Down the rabbit hole
Of insanity and probably drugs,
The lone sniper
A disgruntled young white man
In his 20’s
Sets up shop on top of a building.
He has a high-powered weapon
No doubt bought legally
An AR-15 the choice
Of the serious gun men everywhere.
And begins shooting
Into the July 4th parade
Killing six people
Injuring 30.
Before putting the gun down
And fleeing
Before the cops can find him.
The right-wing media
Goes to works
The pundits pontificate
24/7
It is not about the gun
It is about everything else
That is wrong with our society.
Guns don’t kill people
They proclaim
Guns are the price we pay
For our freedom.
Their demented answer
is more guns
More guns for everyone.
And sadly, nothing will be done
As the politicians offer
Useless thoughts and prayers
The gun ghosts don’t care
They are dead after all.
The madness will not stop
Until we figure out
How to stop
The killers in our midst.
There will be another shooting
No doubt before the day is done
Over 300 so far this year.
And that is just the way
It is in this day and age
Of America.
The land of the free
Home of the brave
And 400 million guns.
Note: I wrote this a year or so ago. This morning there was another mass shooting, this time at Brown University. Yesterday at Bondi Beach in Australia. The Australian Government promises to enact even stricter gun laws in response, in the US nothing but talk about prayers and thoughts for the victims, nothing can be done the politicians say. THe price of freedom is the occasional mass shooting according to the NRA.
My name, it is Nobody
No one cares who I am
I am just a nameless clone
In the cold unfeeling bureaucracy
Just one of the army
Of civilians who flood into and out of the city
Every day
A non-entity,
A ghost
A govbot
A cyber
A spook
A faceless automan
A bureaucrat
Just a grey suited cog in the machinery
And no one cares
No one knows who I really am
And I am legend
Everywhere and nowhere
Just the way this modern world
All shred of humanity
Crushed beneath
the cruel wheel of society
In the cold harsh world
There is no room anymore
For true human feelings
We are just robots,
clones, machines
And so I go to work
Put on my mask
And no one hears
my inner screams
And no one will ever care
My name, it is Nobody
No one cares who I am
I am just a nameless clone
In the cold unfeeling bureaucracy
Just one of the army
Of civilians who flood into and out of the city
Every day
A non-entity,
A ghost
A govbot
A cyber
A spook
A faceless automan
A bureaucrat
Just a grey suited cog in the machinery
And no one cares
No one knows who I really am
And I am legend
Everywhere and nowhere
Just the way this modern world
All shred of humanity
Crushed beneath the cruel wheel of society
In the cold harsh world
There is no room anymore
For true human feelings
We are just robots, clones, machines
And so I go to work
Put on my mask
And no one hears my inner screams
And no one will ever care
Order this writing that appears
in the one-of-a-kind anthology The Flickering Light
the Down in the Dirt Jan.-June 2019
issues & chapbooks collection book
(learn about this book, and order from Amazon online)
get the 366 page
Jan.-June 2019 Down in the Dirt
issue & chapbooks 6″ x 9″ ISBN# paperback book:
I like to start my day with a hot cup of coffee
I pound down the coffee
First thing I do every day as the dawning sun
Lights up my lonesome room
Yeah, but not just a simple cup of java Joe, but a God damn snarling sarcastic smarmy cup of coffee
I mean, – we are talking about an alcoholic, all speed ahead, always hot, always fresh, always there when I need it, angry, attitude talk to the hand Ztude, bad, bad assed, beats breaking, beatnik, bluesy, bitter, bitchy, bombs away, capitalistic, caffeinated up the ass, cinematic, communistic, Colombian grown, Costa Rican inspired, Cowabunga to the max, crazy assed, devilishly angelic, divine, divinely inspired, dyslexic, epic, extreme vetting, evil eye, expensive, erotic vision inducing, Ethiopian coffee house brewed, euphoric, freaky, freazoid, foxy, Frenched kissed, French brewed, funkified, foxy lady, graphic, GOD in my coffee, with Allah, Ganesh, Jesus, Kali, Buddha, Christians, Durga, Hindus, Mohamed, Jesus and Mo and their friend, the cosmic bar maid, Sai Babai, Shiva, Taoists, Zoroastrians, drinking my god damned coffee in Hell; growling, gnarly, happy, hard as ice, Hawaian blessed, high as a kite, hippie, hip, hipster, hip hoppy, hot as hell yet strangely sweet as heaven, jazzy, jealous, Kerouac approved, kick ass, kick my god damn ass to Tuesday, kick down the doors and take no prisoners, grown in the Vietnam highlands by ex-Vietcong, Guatemalan grown, kiss ass, illegal in every state, imported from all over the god damn world, insane, lovely, loony, lonely, lonesome, malodorous mean old rotten, motherfucking, nasty, narcotic, never whatever, never meh, never cold, not approved by the CIA, not approved by DHS, not approved for human consumption by the FDA, not your daddy’s sissified corporate cup of coffee, NOT DECAFE coffee, not your Denny’s truck driver weak as brown water cup of fake coffee, not your establishment friendly cup of coffee, Not your FBI coffee, Not FAKE Herbal coffee substitute, but a real cup of coffee, not your farmer brothers dinner crap, not made in America for Americans, not safe for work, not your Starbucks average expensive overpriced crappy corporate chain cup of coffee, Not pretentious, Not White House approved, not State Department safe, nuclear, Not Patriotic, operatic, Peets’s coffee approved, paranoid, pornographic, psychotic, pontific, politically aware, rapping, rhyming, right here, right now in River city, rock and roll up the Yazoo, sad, sadistic, sarcastic, sassy, satanic, schizoid, shitting, silly, sexy, smarmy, smelly, smooth, snarky, snarling, stupid, stinking, sweet as honey, sweat inducing, symphonic, Trump can’t handle this coffee, vengeful, Wagnerian, wicked, with nutmeg and cinnamon swirls, with a hint of stevia, with a hint of vanilla, with a hint of rum, with a hint of whisky, with a hint of cherry, with a hint of fruit overtones, with a hint of drugs spicing up the coffee, spendific, speeding, splendid, superior accept no substitutes, survived the Vietnam war, the Iraq war, the Afghan war, the first and Second Korean war, World War 11, the war on poverty, the war on drugs, the war on black people, the sexual revolution, Soulful as a summer’s night in MOTOWN- James Brown approved, TOP approved, Berkeley approved, the coffee that Jimmy Hendrix drank before he died, the coffee that Elvis drank on his last breakfast, the coffee that Barry White crooned as he drank his cup of coffee – and the coffee that made the white boy play stand up and play that funky music, the coffee that made Jonny B Goode play his guitar, and made Jonny bet the devil his soul after he drank his morning cup of righteous coffee and the coffee that make the Rolling Stones Rock and Roll, the coffee your mother warned you against drinking, the coffee that Napoleon drank when he became the Emperor of all Europe, the Coffee that Beethoven drank when he wrote the Ninth symphony, the coffee that Mozart drank as he wrote his last symphony, the coffee that Lincoln drank before he was killed, the Hemingway drank before he killed himself, the coffee that started the 60’s, and ended the 20th century, the coffee that Lenin drank as he plotted revolution, the coffee that Hitler and Stalin drank with FDR as they divided up the world after World War 11, the cup that JFK drank before he was blown away, the coffee Jerry drinks while driving in cars with random celebrities and political figures, the coffee that Jon Stewart drinks before he goes on an epic take down of some foolish politico, the cup of Arabic coffee that Sadaam drank the day he was executed, the coffee that GW and Cheney drank when they bombed Baghdad, the Indian cup of coffee that Bid Laden drank before 9-11 and just before the seals blew his ass to hell, the cup of coffee that Tiger Woods drank with his mistresses while playing a 3, 000 dollar round of golf at Sandy Lane golf course in Barbados, the last legal drug that does what drugs should do, the cup of coffee that Obama drank when he became President, Vietnamese, Vienna brew, wacky, whimsical, Whisky Tango Foxtrot, wild, weird, wonderful, WOW, Yabba dabba doo! Yada Yada yada Zappa’s favorite cup of cosmic coffee, and Zorro’s last cup of coffee, Good to the last drop rolled into one simple cup of hot coffee
As I pound down that first cup of coffee
And fire up my synaptic nerve endings with endless supplies
Of caffeine induced neuron enhancing chemicals
I face the dawning day with trepidation and mind-numbing fear
I turn on the TV and watch the smarmy newscasters in their perfect hair
Lying through their teeth about the great success the government is having Following the great leader’s latest pronouncements
I want to scream and shoot the TV and run out side Shouting
“Stop the world.
I want to get off this fucking crazy planet”
The earth does not care a whit about my attitude
It merely shrugs and moves around the Sun
In its appointed daily run
And I sit down
The madness dissipating a bit
And enjoy my second cup
Of heaven and hell
In my morning cup of Joe
get the 396 page poetry,
flash fiction, prose,
& artwork & photography
collection anthology
as a 6″ x 9″ ISBN#
paperback book:
Stairway To Heaven Bumper Sticker
Found Poem in Medford, Oregon
The fact
There is a stairway
To heaven
But a highway
To hell.
Tells you about
The expected traffic
Strangeness in the Air
There is a strangeness in the air
A sense of cosmic unease
Hangs silently in the purple crystalline sky
America woke up
And decided it was time
To quit following like lemmings
Over the Clift
As the pied piper chants
Stay the course, stay the course
We were like lemmings following him
Dying to save his wounded pride
Today there is that strange difference
In the air
As Americans woke up
And threw off their chains of fear
This writing was accepted for publication
in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# /
ISBN# issue/book “The Gravity
Of Imagination”
Down in the Dirt, v203 (1/23)
The fly on the wallpaper
In the CIA director’s office
Was not a real fly
He was an enemy spy drone
Secretly controlled remotely
Listening to all the secret conversations
Until the director smashed him
With a flyswatter
Then realized that it was a spy fly
He had dispatched to bug hell.
On the night of the blood red super full moon
I sat in an evil, depraved godforsaken bar
Drinking drams of demented, fermented dream dew
Washed down by endless rounds of whiskey
rum, tequila, vodka, soju and of course beer
drinking with my buddies the Jack Daniels Gang
Drinking my way to Hell and beyond
Just as fast as I could
twenty damn drinks too sober
Just an unhinged lunatic
Dreaming of howling at the full moon
Watching the world walk by
Looking at all the fine-looking babes
Walking by the street
Thinking wild, erotic thoughts
Of endless wild libertine passions
When into the bar
That din of cosmic depravity
Walked the most beautiful women
In the Universe
So wild, so free
So wonderfully alive
I did not know what to do
As this vision of delight
Sauntered through the bar
In a skin-tight leather pant
Looked so fine
That my eyeballs hurt
And finally, I had to say something
So, I gathered up my manly courage
And walked up to her
And she looked at me
And instantly bewitched my soul
With a devilish grin
I lost all reason
And became a raving lunatic
Unhinged lunatic
Howling at the blood red full moon
Foaming at the mouth
A wild, free werewolf
Howling at the lunatic light
Of the blood red blue full Moon
Hi there from Scars Publications (this letter is being sent from a bulk email address, so DO NOT REPLY to this Gmail address but to any scars.tv email address)… We wanted to let you know that Scars Publications released a 2025 annual collection book of select poetry, flash fiction, prose, & art from 2025 issues of cc’d magazine and Down in the Dirt magazine. Since your material was chosen from the past year of accepted materials for inclusion in this annual collection book anthology, we wanted to share this brand-new annual collection book, “Signs and Revelations”!
Links to see all the chosen writers and artists (and the titles of their work) in “Signs and Revelations”: https://scars.tv/2025collection/Signs_and_Revelations.htm
This is where you can also find out what material of yours appears in this annual collection book.
You can find this book online at scars.tv in multiple locations. Right now, it is linked on the main page at https://scars.tv, and it appears near the top of the list of choices on the books link (the book link is one click away from the main page, or also directly at https://scars.tv/books/) as well as at the “CD Books Sale” link with new releases at the top of the listing (direct link https://scars.tv/sale/) at Scars!
Also, by the end of the business week, or by Friday night CST, your writing in the writings section online will have a link to this collection book, so people can find links to this collection book on your writing pages in the writings section of http://scars.tv (at https://scars.tv/cgi-bin/framesmain.pl?writers)...
Links for ordering this collection book appear on all of the links above, and will also appear in the writings section, so any of your writing in this collection book will also see a link to this collection book in the writings section!
These books are available from Amazon in the U.S. & Canada, the U.K., Europe, Australia, and Japan. (The link above is for U.S. sales.)
The Scars Publication book link for what material of yours appears in this collection book, and if you’d like, order a copy today (I hear they make great Christmas gifts)… Again, thank you for being a part of the Scars Publications community!
I was a Boy Scout in Berkeley, California during the 1960s and 70s, rising to the rank of Life Scout, serving in Troop 19 and serving as troop leader for five years—much to the chagrin of my younger brother, who didn’t enjoy being bossed around by me! One of my biggest regrets in life is not having become an Eagle Scout, which my younger brother achieved.
Critiques of the Boy Scouts
Criticism from progressive and left-leaning voices has focused on several themes:
Sexism and Gender Segregation
The Boy Scouts historically excluded girls and later introduced a “linked troop” system that critics call a “separate-but-equal regime” designed to appease misogynists rather than promote true inclusion. This system limited coed activities and reinforced gender segregation. Read more here[scoutingmaverick.com]
Racism and Cultural Appropriation
The organization has long been accused of misappropriating Native American traditions through regalia, dances, and names in programs like Order of the Arrow. Indigenous advocates argue these practices perpetuate stereotypes and disrespect cultural heritage. NBC News coverage[nbcnews.com]
Homophobia and Discriminatory Policies
For decades, the Boy Scouts banned gay youth and leaders, a policy upheld by the U.S. Supreme Court in Boy Scouts of America v. Dale (2000). Critics likened this stance to racial discrimination. The ban was lifted only in 2013 (youth) and 2015 (leaders). Analysis on Yale Scholarship[academic.oup.com]
Corporate and Authoritarian Allegations
Some critics frame the Scouts as a “corporate grooming” organization, citing its hierarchical structure, emphasis on obedience, and historical ties to militaristic ideals. These critiques often compare Scouting’s early ethos to nationalist youth movements. Wikipedia overview of controversies[en.wikipedia.org]
Official Responses
The Boy Scouts (now Scouting America) have responded by:
Expanding Inclusivity: Allowing girls (2017–2018), lifting bans on LGBTQ members (2013–2015), and introducing diversity merit badges.
Rebranding: In 2025, the organization changed its name to Scouting America to signal openness to all youth. Leaders emphasized their mission to provide leadership and life skills for every child. Newsweek report[newsweek.com]
Cultural Sensitivity Efforts: Conducting surveys on Native American imagery, though stating traditions will remain with “accuracy and respect.” NBC News[nbcnews.com]
Comparison to Hitler Youth and Authoritarian Youth Groups
Similarities: Both emphasized discipline, outdoor activities, uniforms, and loyalty to ideals. Early Hitler Youth borrowed elements from Scouting to attract boys.
Differences:
Boy Scouts promoted voluntary participation, moral development, and service.
Hitler Youth became mandatory (1936), focused on paramilitary training, ideological indoctrination, and spying on families.
Many years ago, I heard a work aquantaince dismiss someone else as “he’s such a boy scout” as if that was a bad thing. I told him that I resembled that remark as I was a Boy Scout too.
the other day while on a trip to Jeongju we ran into an eldery German tourist who had gotten lost from her group, we helped her get on the right train and got a taxi for her to her hotel once we arrived in Jeongju. Helping her that day as I did my Boy Scout mandated good deed for the day gave rise to reflections on my life as a boy scout when I was a young lad.
But I rejected that label. For me, Scouting was about leadership, resilience, and service. It prepared me for life, and I still recommend it to family and friends. To this day, I try to follow the principles that shaped me.
Core Principles of Scouting
Motto:Be Prepared – Ready for any situation, physically, mentally, and morally.
Slogan:Do a Good Turn Daily – Perform at least one act of kindness every day without expecting anything in return.
Scout Oath:
On my honor, I will do my best To do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law; To help other people at all times; To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.
Scout Law: A Scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.
Troop 19– Active and adventurous, meets Wednesdays at the Scout Hut in John Hinkel Park. Website: https://www.troop19berkeley.org/
Troop 42– Inclusive troop for female and non-binary youth, focused on outdoor adventure. Website: https://troop42berkeley.com/
There are active Boy Scout troops almost everywhere including in South Korea.
Here’s an overview of the Boy Scouts in Korea and the World Scout Jamboree that faced major issues in 2023, along with official links:
Boy Scouts in Korea
The Korea Scout Association (KSA) is the national Scouting organization of South Korea, founded in 1922 during Japanese rule. It was banned from 1937 until Korea’s liberation in 1945 and officially recognized by the World Organization of the Scout Movement (WOSM) in 1953.
Membership has historically been around 200,000+ Scouts, organized into sections: Beaver Scouts (4–6), Cub Scouts (6–12), Scouts (12–15), Venture Scouts (15–18), and Rovers (18–25).
The highest rank is Tiger Scout, and the motto is “준비” (Jun Bi) – Be Prepared.
KSA has hosted major events, including the 17th World Scout Jamboree (1991) and numerous Asia-Pacific Jamborees.
Extreme heatwave (temperatures up to 40°C), poor drainage, mosquito infestations, and inadequate shade made conditions harsh.
Sanitation failures: filthy toilets, insufficient showers, and poor food quality.
Medical issues: hundreds of heat-related illnesses, insect bites, and even a COVID-19 outbreak.
Safety concerns: allegations of misconduct (including a shower incident) and lack of protective measures.
Infrastructure gaps: inadequate shelter, medical facilities without electricity, and poor site access.
Evacuation: The event was abandoned early due to Typhoon Khanun, with Scouts relocated to Seoul for cultural programs and a K-pop concert.
Audit findings (2025): A government probe called it a “complete lapse in all aspects of management”, citing incompetence, misused funds, and lack of oversight. Criminal investigations were launched against some officials. [dw.com], [koreatimes.co.kr], [bbc.com], [straitstimes.com]
Key Lessons
The fiasco highlighted the need for:
Better risk assessment for site selection.
Stronger governance and accountability.
Adequate infrastructure and safety measures for large-scale youth events.
Scouting in Berkeley has always had a distinctive flavor. In the 1960s and 70s, being a Scout in a progressive city came with challenges—critics labeled it “militaristic” or “corporate., or “fascists”, often citing its founder Rhodes, the uber apologists for the British Empire, who was famous for helping set up apartheid in South Africa and setting up Rhodesia, and the Rhodes Scholarship program. Yet, troops thrived, teaching leadership and service.
Historically, Northbrae Community Church in the Thousand Oaks neighborhood hosted troop meetings, including Troop 19 in earlier decades. Today, Troop 19 meets at John Hinkel Park, continuing its tradition of outdoor adventure.
The other day, while on a trip to Jeongju, Korea, with my wife, we encountered an elderly German tourist who had gotten lost from her tour group and was rejoining them in Jeongju. We helped her get on the right train and got her a taxi to her hotel. It felt good doing a good deed and commit a random act of kindness. I thought about my Boy Scout upbringing and the scout motto of doing a good deed every day, and the phrase Commit a random act of kindness.
There’s a phrase that has quietly traveled through decades, inspiring countless hearts: “Commit a random act of kindness.”
It sounds simple, almost whimsical—yet its roots and cultural impact are profound. Coined by writer Anne Herbert in the early 1980s, this phrase was her antidote to the negativity of “random acts of violence.” She scribbled it on a placemat in Sausalito, California:
“Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.”
From that moment, the idea blossomed into a global movement. Today, it’s celebrated through Random Acts of Kindness Day, nonprofit initiatives, and everyday gestures that ripple through communities. [berkeleywe…lbeing.com], [betterup.com], [readpoetry.com]
Why It Resonates
In a world often dominated by headlines of conflict and division, this phrase offers a radical alternative: spontaneous goodness without expectation of return. It’s not about grand gestures—it’s about the small, unplanned moments that remind us of our shared humanity.
Paying for someone’s coffee.
Leaving a kind note for a stranger.
Helping a tourist find their way.
These acts may seem small, but research shows they boost happiness, reduce stress, and strengthen social bonds. Kindness is contagious—it sparks a chain reaction that can transform communities. [berkeleywe…lbeing.com], [betterup.com]
Cultural Impact
The phrase has appeared in books, blogs, and even pop culture. It inspired the Random Acts of Kindness Foundation, school programs, and social media challenges like #RAKDay. Celebrities, educators, and everyday people have embraced it as a mantra for living with empathy. [bloggers.f…edspot.com], [timeforkin…ness.co.uk]
Personal Reflection
Why do I love this phrase? Because it’s actionable. It doesn’t require wealth, status, or planning—just a willingness to notice and respond. It reminds me that kindness is not a luxury; it’s a choice we can make every day.
Poetic Rendering: “The Ripple of One”
One smile, unasked, can light a street, A door held open—kindness complete. A coin for coffee, a note that says “stay,” Small acts bloom in the cracks of gray.
No banners wave, no trumpets sound, Yet hearts are lifted all around. Commit, not for glory, nor for applause, But for the quiet joy that kindness draws.
10 Simple Ways to Brighten Someone’s Day:
Pay for the next person’s coffee or meal.
Leave a handwritten note of encouragement in a public place.
Compliment a stranger sincerely.
Donate gently used clothes to a local shelter.
Offer to help someone carry heavy bags.
Send an unexpected “thank you” message to a colleague or friend.
Leave coins at a vending machine for the next person.
Share an uplifting book with someone who needs it.
Plant a tree or flowers in a community space.
Smile and greet people warmly—it costs nothing but means everything.
let’s all go out today and make the world a better place by committing one simple random act of kindness paying it forward around the world! Do not give into hate, despair and fear. Fight the power! Spread the word my friends, keep the faith and keep hope alive. We can make this world a better place, so go forth and make it happen.
The other day, while on a trip to Jeongju, Korea, with my wife, we encountered an elderly German tourist who had gotten lost from her tour group and was rejoining them in Jeongju. We helped her get on the right train and got her a taxi to her hotel. It felt good doing a good deed and commit a random act of kindness. I thought about my Boy Scout upbringing and the scout motto of doing a good deed every day, and the phrase “Commit a Random Act of Kindness.”
There’s a phrase that has quietly traveled through decades, inspiring countless hearts: “Commit a random act of kindness.”
It sounds simple, almost whimsical—yet its roots and cultural impact are profound. Coined by writer Anne Herbert in the early 1980s, this phrase was her antidote to the negativity of “random acts of violence.” She scribbled it on a placemat in Sausalito, California:
“Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.”
From that moment, the idea blossomed into a global movement. Today, it’s celebrated through Random Acts of Kindness Day, nonprofit initiatives, and everyday gestures that ripple through communities. [berkeleywe…lbeing.com], [betterup.com], [readpoetry.com]
Why It Resonates
In a world often dominated by headlines of conflict and division, this phrase offers a radical alternative: spontaneous goodness without expectation of return. It’s not about grand gestures—it’s about the small, unplanned moments that remind us of our shared humanity.
Paying for someone’s coffee.
Leaving a kind note for a stranger.
Helping a tourist find their way.
These acts may seem small, but research shows they boost happiness, reduce stress, and strengthen social bonds. Kindness is contagious—it sparks a chain reaction that can transform communities. [berkeleywe…lbeing.com], [betterup.com]
Cultural Impact
The phrase has appeared in books, blogs, and even pop culture. It inspired the Random Acts of Kindness Foundation, school programs, and social media challenges like #RAKDay. Celebrities, educators, and everyday people have embraced it as a mantra for living with empathy. [bloggers.f…edspot.com], [timeforkin…ness.co.uk]
Personal Reflection
Why do I love this phrase? Because it’s actionable. It doesn’t require wealth, status, or planning—just a willingness to notice and respond. It reminds me that kindness is not a luxury; it’s a choice we can make every day.
Poetic Rendering: “The Ripple of One”
One smile, unasked, can light a street, A door held open—kindness complete. A coin for coffee, a note that says “stay,” Small acts bloom in the cracks of gray.
No banners wave, no trumpets sound, Yet hearts are lifted all around. Commit, not for glory, nor for applause, But for the quiet joy that kindness draws.
10 Simple Ways to Brighten Someone’s Day:
Pay for the next person’s coffee or meal.
Leave a handwritten note of encouragement in a public place.
Compliment a stranger sincerely.
Donate gently used clothes to a local shelter.
Offer to help someone carry heavy bags.
Send an unexpected “thank you” message to a colleague or friend.
Leave coins at a vending machine for the next person.
Share an uplifting book with someone who needs it.
Plant a tree or flowers in a community space.
Smile and greet people warmly—it costs nothing but means everything.
let’s all go out today and make the world a better place by committing one simple random act of kindness paying it forward around the world! Do not give into hate, despair and fear. Fight the power! Spread the word my friends, keep the faith and keep hope alive. We can make this world a better place, so go forth and make it happen.
The other day, while on a trip to Jeongju, Korea, with my wife, we encountered an elderly German tourist who had gotten lost from her tour group and was rejoining them in Jeongju. We helped her get on the right train and got her a taxi to her hotel. It felt good doing a good deed and commit a random act of kindness. I thought about my Boy Scout upbringing and the scout motto of doing a good deed every day, and the phrase “Commit a Random Act of Kindness.”
There’s a phrase that has quietly traveled through decades, inspiring countless hearts: “Commit a random act of kindness.”
It sounds simple, almost whimsical—yet its roots and cultural impact are profound. Coined by writer Anne Herbert in the early 1980s, this phrase was her antidote to the negativity of “random acts of violence.” She scribbled it on a placemat in Sausalito, California:
“Practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.”
From that moment, the idea blossomed into a global movement. Today, it’s celebrated through Random Acts of Kindness Day, nonprofit initiatives, and everyday gestures that ripple through communities. [berkeleywe…lbeing.com], [betterup.com], [readpoetry.com]
Why It Resonates
In a world often dominated by headlines of conflict and division, this phrase offers a radical alternative: spontaneous goodness without expectation of return. It’s not about grand gestures—it’s about the small, unplanned moments that remind us of our shared humanity.
Paying for someone’s coffee.
Leaving a kind note for a stranger.
Helping a tourist find their way.
These acts may seem small, but research shows they boost happiness, reduce stress, and strengthen social bonds. Kindness is contagious—it sparks a chain reaction that can transform communities. [berkeleywe…lbeing.com], [betterup.com]
Cultural Impact
The phrase has appeared in books, blogs, and even pop culture. It inspired the Random Acts of Kindness Foundation, school programs, and social media challenges like #RAKDay. Celebrities, educators, and everyday people have embraced it as a mantra for living with empathy. [bloggers.f…edspot.com], [timeforkin…ness.co.uk]
Personal Reflection
Why do I love this phrase? Because it’s actionable. It doesn’t require wealth, status, or planning—just a willingness to notice and respond. It reminds me that kindness is not a luxury; it’s a choice we can make every day.
Poetic Rendering: “The Ripple of One”
One smile, unasked, can light a street, A door held open—kindness complete. A coin for coffee, a note that says “stay,” Small acts bloom in the cracks of gray.
No banners wave, no trumpets sound, Yet hearts are lifted all around. Commit, not for glory, nor for applause, But for the quiet joy that kindness draws.
10 Simple Ways to Brighten Someone’s Day:
Pay for the next person’s coffee or meal.
Leave a handwritten note of encouragement in a public place.
Compliment a stranger sincerely.
Donate gently used clothes to a local shelter.
Offer to help someone carry heavy bags.
Send an unexpected “thank you” message to a colleague or friend.
Leave coins at a vending machine for the next person.
Share an uplifting book with someone who needs it.
Plant a tree or flowers in a community space.
Smile and greet people warmly—it costs nothing but means everything.
let’s all go out today and make the world a better place by committing one simple random act of kindness paying it forward around the world! Do not give into hate, despair and fear. Fight the power! Spread the word my friends, keep the faith and keep hope alive. We can make this world a better place, so go forth and make it happen.
Cosmos’s Poems in All Poetry. Fan Story, Poetry Soup, Writing Com and Elsewhere
I have been posting poems on All Poetry, Fan Story, Poetry Soup and Writing Com, and elsewhere since 2016. I have posted over 1000 poems over the years. Many of them were inspired by All Poetry, Fan Story, Poetry Soup or Writing Com contests. I have been posting ten poems every other week since I joined. I have 600 followers and follow over 1600 other poets from around the world. I have also posted poems on Cosmos Funnel, Hello Poetry, Poetry Lore, Poem Hunter, Poetry Magnum Opus, and a few other sites and on FB poetry sites as well. I usually cross post on all these sites, reserving about half my poems as “unpublished” for publication credit.
All Poetry, Fan Story, Poetry Soup, and Writing Com are great sites to meet and read poets from everywhere. You can sign up for free, but I opted to pay for a premium membership. They also offer classes and lots of informational resources for poets. I plan on updating my web page Medium, Substack, Wattpad, Writing.Com pages, and my Spotify podcasts, whenever I post things on All Poetry, Fan Story, Poetry Soup, and Writing Com et al.
You can find my poems at https://allpoetry.com/Jake Aller. And at Cosmos poetry and fiction now on Poetry Soup.
Cosmos’s Poems in All Poetry. Fan Story, Poetry Soup, Writing Com and Elsewhere
I have been posting poems on All Poetry, Fan Story, Poetry Soup and Writing Com, and elsewhere since 2016. I have posted over 1000 poems over the years. Many of them were inspired by All Poetry, Fan Story, Poetry Soup or Writing Com contests. I have been posting ten poems every other week since I joined. I have 600 followers and follow over 1600 other poets from around the world. I have also posted poems on Cosmos Funnel, Hello Poetry, Poetry Lore, Poem Hunter, Poetry Magnum Opus, and a few other sites and on FB poetry sites as well. I usually cross post on all these sites, reserving about half my poems as “unpublished” for publication credit.
All Poetry, Fan Story, Poetry Soup, and Writing Com are great sites to meet and read poets from everywhere. You can sign up for free, but I opted to pay for a premium membership. They also offer classes and lots of informational resources for poets. I plan on updating my web page Medium, Substack, Wattpad, Writing.Com pages, and my Spotify podcasts, whenever I post things on All Poetry, Fan Story, Poetry Soup, and Writing Com et al.
You can find my poems at https://allpoetry.com/Jake Aller. And at Cosmos poetry and fiction now on Poetry Soup.
As winter settles in, so too do the ghosts of memory, pandemic fears, and seasonal melancholy.
These ten haiku and senryu reflect the emotional landscape of winter 2021·2022, a time marked by isolation and reflection. Originally published in Failed Haiku, this collection captures fleeting moments of sorrow, resilience, and quiet contemplation.
As winter settles in, so too do the ghosts of memory, pandemic fears, and seasonal melancholy.
These ten haiku and senryu reflect the emotional landscape of winter 2021·2022, a time marked by isolation and reflection. Originally published in Failed Haiku, this collection captures fleeting moments of sorrow, resilience, and quiet contemplation.
Day One October 19, 2020 Contemplating The Falling Leaves Of Autumn
Day 2 October 2020 Nightmares Scenes From A Hellish Nightmare
Day 3 October 21, 2020 Maid Laird Strikes Again Tanka (Halloween Challenge Day 3)
Day 4 October 22, 20202 Ghost Poem Corona Ghosts March On Who Demanding Justice
Day 5, October 23, 2020 Ekphrastic Challenge The Grim Reaper Comes For Us
Day 6 October 24, 2020 Pumpkin Patch Great Pumpkin Rises Again
Day 7 October 25., 2020 Haunted House The Haunted House At The End Of The World
Day 8 October 26, 2020– The Door Slammed Loudly I Was Home Alone
Day 9 October 27, 2020 Dark Prophecy-Fascism Comes To America – Halloween Challenge Day 9
Day 10, October 28, 2020 My Mother’s Secrets Conversation With A Ghost -Halloween Contest Day 10 Spooky Conversation
Day 11, October 29, 2020 Costume Halloween Party From Hell
Day 12 October 30, 2020 Halloween Costume Party
Day 13, October 31, 2020 Trick Or Treating In The Era Of Covid
Vault 56 Words Pensively 101 Prompt
Corona Mask
Writing Com Challenge October 13 To October 31
Fifty Word Prose Horror Poems Published In Every Writer
The Mad Laird Strikes Again
The Mad Bagpiper Of Berkeley
General Corona Got Your Baby
Waiting For The Grim Reaper
Wild Things Run Amuck
Screaming News Drives Me Mad
Corona Horror Haiku
The Mad Laird Strikes Again Haiku
In The Scottish Moors
Hearing The Bagpipes
Mad Laird Runs At You
The Mad Bagpiper Of Berkeley Haiku
General Corona Got Your Baby
The Mad Corona General
Waiting For The Grim Reaper
Wild Things Run Amuck Haiku
Screaming News Drives Me Mad Haiku
The Mad Laird Strikes Again
The Mad Bagpiper Of Berkeley
General Corona Got Your Baby
Waiting For The Grim Reaper
Wild Things Run Amuck
The Gorgon Of Bangkok
Halloween Arrives Haiku
Giant Spaceships Arrive
The Aliens Took Over The Earth In A Night Of Violence And Terror.
One Sunday Morning At 9 Am The Animals Of The World All Woke Up
Walking the path
In the forest near my house
Every day I see the changing colors
Of the fall season
Always a time for reflection
For contemplation
Thinking about the past
And the future
As I contemplate each step
The vivid colors of the fall
a forecast of the coming winter
peaking about my birthday
contemplation of life
and the path I have taken
looking at the love of my life
fills me joy and laughter
dispelling the moodiness
of fall
Scenes from a Hellish Nightmare
Note: From a real nightmare End Note
I am in a room
Drinking at a party
And smoking weed
Drinking up a storm
20 drinks too sober
Watching people all around me
Change into hideous creatures
Monsters from the deepest depths of hell
Everyone in the room
Has been transformed except me
The Chief of them all
Wears a Trumpian mask
Complete with orange hair
Half-human half pig
His deputy
Wears the face of Putin
But his body
Half-human, half-horse,
The other creatures wear masks
Many of them wear
Green Pepe the alt-right
Symbolic frog masks
And have T-shirts
Bearing alt right slogans
And Nazi symbols
And as they prance about
They chant alt. Right slogans
And neo-Nazi chants
Jews will not replace us
And the rest of these creatures
Are hideous ugly beasts
Apes, cannibals, demons, dwarfs,
Goblins, leprechauns, Imps, monsters, orcs,
Pirates, satyrs, werewolves, Zombies,
With only a vestige of humanity left
And these monsters are engaged
In all sorts of foul evil deeds
The Trumpian Pig leads the charge
Starts engaging in sodomy with Putin
Who chases after people
Cutting off their heads with his sword
They turn on to their fellow creatures
Raping and killing each other
and eating their fellow creatures
All night long
Then they attack me
Screaming
Jews will not replace us
And I wake up
Screaming
As the sun comes up
Just another nightmare
Maid Laird Strikes Again Tanka (Halloween Challenge Day 3)
walking the Scottish Moors
Sam encounters the mad laird
The mad laird haunting
Stalking the lone hikers
Killing them cut off their heads
Corona Ghosts are Angry
ghosts
The corona ghosts meet up in Limbo
One million corona ghosts
From all over the world
The corona ghosts are angry
Their voices not heard
Just echoes in the wind
They decide to manifest themselves
To haunt the WH, the congress
The state capitols
The world capitols
In a one day massive
Corona ghost protest
The corona ghosts swarm the WH
Overwhelming the secret service
Demanding to meet the president
He came out
Met with them
General Corona appeared
And the President
Joined the Corona ghosts
In the end
Just another Corona ghost
The Grim Reaper comes for us
Sam Adams knew that his time was up
He knew for he had a forewarning
In his dream, he saw the Grim reaper
Waiting for him
Along highway 666
grimm reaper
Beckoning him to join him
On the back of his cursed Harley
To ride down the highway to hell
Sam got up
Got his will updated
Looked at his wife
One last time
Prayed to the gods
All of them
To send him to the other place
Rather that the hell
That the grim reaper
Had promised him
There was a knock on the door
A telegram had arrived
It said
Your appointment for judgment
Is today
You may end up in the other place
Be prepared and be afraid
Your ride arrives at midnight
At midnight
The grim reaper
Dressed in black leather
Arrived on his cursed Harley
Said your ride awaits
Fortunate one
We are going to limbo
Where you will wait
With the others
To hear your fate
And away they went
Down the celestial highway
Bypassing highway 666
Exiting in limbo
He walked into a huge hallway
Thousands of people milling around
He looked up at the signs
Welcome to Limbo
No talking
No smoking
No phone usage – no reception anyway
Wait your turn
For your judgment date
The hour is late
But you will learn your fate
On this your cosmic judgment date
His number is called
He walks up
The angel bureaucrat
Dressed in a Mr. Smith black suit
Holds a hand-held computer
His life flashes on the screen
65 years condensed
Into a one minute video
An amber light flashes
The bureaucrat reads the judgment
Mr. Sam Adams
You are given five more years
Get your act together
Do good deeds
When you come back
You will face one last judgment
He walks outside
A taxi awaits
Takes him home
He wakes up
Drinks coffee with his wife
And the day resumes
Great Pumpkin Rising again
great pumpkin
Lonely Linus sits in his pumpkin patch
With snoopy his faithful delusional dog
Waiting for the Great Pumpkin
An annual ritual
Only Linus knows
That the Great Pumpkin exists
No one else knows
No one else cares
Linus prepares for another night
Then the great pumpkin arises
A ghostly spirit
Comes out of the moonlight
Who dare calls me
The great pumpkin demands
Who is ready to die?
It is I, Linus, your biggest supporter
Tell me oh Great Pumpkin
What is your wish?
The great pumpkin growls
Tell your folks to vote
Time for the orange man
to meet his doom
The great pumpkin laughs
His visage appears
On the TV networks
The great pumpkin demands
President Trump
Time to meet your maker
And dispatches General Corona
To finish the job
Linus is given his heart’s desires
To become a great man
Lord of all he surveys
With Snoopy by his side
The great pumpkin smiles
Giving a ride to Linus
who rides into the future ,
On the back of the great pumpkin
The Haunted House at the End of the World
There is an old long-abandoned ruined house
On the edge of a forest in the hills,
About an hour out of the town of Medford
Overlooking the Rogue River valley
The house was once a mansion
But over time it became semi-ruined
The old man who lived there
Became a hermit seldom going out
No one really knew him
He kept to himself
Then one day
General corona came for a visit
The old man became nothing
But another corona ghost
The house continued standing looking out
On the hill overlooking the valley
Now filled with corona ghosts
As General Corona wiped out,
The entire valley of all humanity
The Door Slammed Loudly I Was Home Alone
I was all alone
Watching the morning news
Filled with omens,
Dangerous thoughts,
Nightmarish reality,
A thousand people a day dying,
Fires burning,
Storms churning,
Black lives dying,
Protestors clashing
Election day looming,
End of the world feelings
The door slammed loudly
I yell out
Who’s there
Nothing but corona ghosts
Crying in the wind
Dark Prophecy-Fascism Comes to America – Halloween
trump jpg
Back in 2016 when I was traveling
Across the country with my wife
I had a series of darkly prophetic dreams
I dreamt that Donald Trump would be elected
And usher in a slide towards fascism
And unfortunately, I was right
So, what are my dreams telling me now
What are my prophetic nightmares
Will they come true again?
I dream that Donald Trump was anointed
By the Supreme Court which ruled
That given the potential for fraud
All mail in ballots would be tossed aside
And Donald Trump who had lost the popular vote
Once again won in the electoral college
He vowed retribution against his enemies
The fake media and the millions of people
Who dared to vote against him
He called upon his supporters
To go forth and rough up
Fuck up as he put it
Liberals and anti-Americans
Declared martial law
Protests would be illegal
The military would enforce the decree
And they did sending troops across the land
Declared that the democratic party
Was anti-American
And he would not allow them
To serve in Congress, or the Senate
The SC refused to rule against him
Thus fascism came to America
And my dark prophecy came true
My Mother’s Secrets Conversation With A Ghost –
My mother died in 2007
We buried her in Berkeley
Near her house
Whenever I am in the area
I drop by
And talk with her
Imaging she is there
One day when I dropped by
I asked her about
Many things in her past
For she took so many secrets
With her to her grave
So Mary, quite contrary
Tell me the truth now
Tell me about your past life
Tell me your secrets
I heard a voice
Crying out in the wind
John John John
Do you want to really know
My secrets?
I responded
Yes I do
She whispered them to me
But made me vow
To keep her secrets
And take them to my grave
And so I can not
Must not reveal
All the shocking stories
Of her life
She told me that I needed
To also talk to my father
For he too had secrets
To tell me
I told her
That I would at some point
Make a visit
To the family grave
In Yakima
And finally learn
The family secrets
They should have told me
While they were alive
Halloween Poem Costumes from Hell
I am at a Halloween party
Everyone is wearing a costume
Including me
I am dressed like an ancient King
My wife is dressed as the angel she is
The party turns wild
Everyone is getting high
Drinking up a storm
Smoking weed
Snorting coke
Dropping acid
The music is wild and crazy
Then through the fog of it all
I see the devil
Parading in front of the crowd
Screaming death
To all democrats
Trump and Putin appear together
Running into the crowds
The crowd chatting lock him up
Lock him up
Biden is paraded in front
Of the blood thirsty crowd
The devil yells off with his head
Putin and Trump
Behead him
Screaming like escaped banshees
I try to wake up from this nightmare
Realizing it is all live
On CNN
And I am dead
The world has ended
Evil has triumphed
Once again
Halloween Costume Party
I am at a Halloween costume party
Dressed like an ancient laird
Angela is dressed in a red devil custom
And we are having a good time
Everyone is getting wild
And frisky
Soon the mood turns dark
And foul
Bad craziness fills the room
The devil makes his appearance
And we realize
We are all doomed
To end our life
At this party
Where we all become
Children of the damn
Trick or Treating In The Era Of Covid
covid 19
Halloween in the era of covid
So strange
With the covid virus
Ever lurking
With CDC
discouraging trick or tweeting
With masks on every face
Everyone
wearing a costume
The trick is not to get sick
The treat is still the candy
The goal of all children
Everywhere
Candy more candy
Visits to the dentist be damned
Hopefully General Corona
Will keep his troops at bay
Dark Secrets
I have a secret vault in my mind
It is a dark corner of my soul
Where I hide away
All the dark dangerous thoughts
That come out
4 am 0 dark hundred
When the wild things
Escape their leashes
Screaming like escaped banshees
Then with the dawning light
I put them back into the vault
masked woman
My corona mask
Hiding my face behind it
Hiding my fears
My wife removing the mask
Seeing my lovely face
The Mad Laird Strikes Again
Sam Adams is doing a Scottish walkabout. There were rumors of a mad laird killing hikers along the lonely moors. He heard bagpipes in the fog then saw a man on a black horse who ran after him with a machete, screaming, “Do you believe in Ghosts now? “
The Mad Bagpiper of Berkeley
Sam Adams had heard rumors of a mad bagpiper serial killer lurking about Tilden park in Berkeley. Then he ran into the mad bagpiper in the lonely backcountry. The man ran after him, killing him with a machete. They found his body cut up and cooked by a camp-fire.
General Corona Got Your Baby
corona
The mad General Corona, riding his black horse came out of the woods, and screamed at Sam Adams, saying “You got the Corona Virus; I am the general.
Your ass is grass and I am the lawnmower.” Prepare to die a long painful death and he breathed on him.
Waiting for the Grim Reaper
Sam Adams found himself in Limbo. Waiting for his appointment with the Grim Reaper. Finally, his number was called. The Grim Reaper said his number was up and it was time for judgment day. “Whether it would be hell or heaven was beyond his pay grade”. The Grim reaper laughed.
Wild Things Run Amuck
0 dark hundred arrives. Insomnia set in. Sam Adams tossed and turned waiting for the wild things to come out for their nightly assault. Evil monstrous creatures from the darkest corner of his hell ran about screaming at him: torturing him until the dawning sun drove them back to hell.
Screaming News Drives Me Mad
Sam Adams fell asleep after watching the screaming media scream about the fires, storms, covid, political madness. Sam saw the devil programming madness on his computers. The devil, surrounded by the demons, orcs, dwarfs and monsters of hell, turns to him smiling, saying his time in hell would come soon.
The Mad Laird Strikes Again
1
In the Scottish Moors
mad laird waits to kill hikers
death waiting for you
hearing the bagpipes
old man appears in the fog
riding a black horse
Mad laird runs at you
Holding a black machete,
screaming “Do you believe in Ghosts
The Mad Bagpiper of Berkeley
1
In the Berkeley Hills
Rumors of mad bagpiper
Fears and terror
2
Encountering it
the mad bagpiper in the hills
they found his body
3
The mad bagpiper
Plays mournful tune as kills
As you become ghost
General Corona Got Your Baby
1
The mad General
Corona riding black horse
Leading his army of bots
2
Encountering his breath
You begin to scream
as you cough dying breath
Waiting for the Grim Reaper
1wake up in Limbo.
Waiting for his appointment
with the Grim Reaper.
2
Finally his number
The Grim Reaper said number was up
tti was the time for judgement day. “
.
Whether it would be
hell or heaven beyond his paygrade
The Grim reaper laughed.
Wild Things Run Amuck
1
At 0 dark hundred.
Deep Insomnia set in.
Tossing and turning
2
waiting for wild things
to come out for their assault.
Evil monstrous creatures
3
from the dark corner
of hell ran about screaming
torturing his soul
4
the dawning sun light
drove them all back to their hell.
Wild things fading
The Mad Laird Strikes Again
Sam Adams is doing a Scottish walk about.
There were rumors of a mad laird
killing hikers along the lonely moors.
He heard bagpipes in the fog
then saw a man on a black horse who ran after him with a machete,
screaming “Do you believe in Ghosts now? “
The Mad Bagpiper of Berkeley
Sam Adams had heard rumors
of a mad bagpiper serial killer
lurking about Tilden Park in Berkeley.
Then he ran into the mad bagpiper
in the lonely back country.
The man ran after him
The gorgon of Bangkok
Sam Adams
Was drinking alone
In the Cosmos Bar
an evil degraded bar
On the bad side of life
in Soi Cowboy
In the city of Angels
Bangkok
Twenty drinks too sober
Drinking by himself
With his buddies
Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, Johnny Walker
Evan Walker, Mr. Bullet, Old Granddad
Ordering one scotch, one bourbon, and a beer
From the lovely half-naked bartender
He looks up at the stage
Dancing on the stage
Was a naked vision of delight
As he looked at her
She began to turn
into a hideous monstrous figure
Two-three faces appeared at once
The naked bartender had warned him
That the gorgon of Bangkok
Would be dancing tonight
All men desired her
And if she chose you
You would die
a thousand deaths
Of erotic pleasure
As she took your soul away
Straight to hell
Sam thought to himself
Why the hell not
I am drinking
my way to hell anyway
And continued to stare
At the gorgon
She smiled
And had her way with him
He left with her
Went to her room
She took off the clothes
He found himself naked in hell
Where the devil welcomes him
Saying have another drink,
my friend
Welcome to hell
the party center
Of the universe
He drank and partied all night
With the gorgon of Bangkok
Halloween Banned as a Satanic Pagan Holiday Writing Com
36 lines
The Christian States of America
Imposed Christian fascism
On the old United States in 2030.
The government outlawed
The observation
Of anti-Christian holidays.
Banning observing
Diwali, Rosh Khana
Other Jewish and Muslim holidays.
MLK Day, June Tenth Day
Black, Asian, Hispanic, and woman
History months.
But they reserved
Thier greatest scorn
For Halloween, October 31
Banned as an anti-Christian
Neo-pagan, satanic
Wicked Wiccan holiday.
But in California, the left cost,
East Coast big cities,
Hotbeds of resistance,
People celebrated Halloween
On October 30,
Which was not banned.
The custom was to dress up in costumes,
Mocking the new leaders,
Wearing nazi uniforms with swastikas.
.
Going door to door, trick or tweeting
People gave candy, money
Or words of encouragement.
But secret supporters,
Of the Christian State
So- Called Christians
Would shoot at them.
Calling them pawns of Satan
Who deserved to be sent to Hell.
There is a new prompt up in “The Writer’s Cramp” – and if you write the best story or poem (and follow all of the rules) you just might win 10,000 GPs.
” WINNER AND NEW PROMPT DUE MON OCT 30″ 17 hours 22 minutes 30 seconds
Write a story or poem about a group of children who go trick or treating in their neighborhood on the WRONG day (any day except one in October). Include the WHY they are trick or treating on the wrong day – and WHAT their neighbors give them instead of candy, if anything?
Note: hating on Halloween is a thing see the Bing Ai Response below;
Halloween is a holiday that has been celebrated for more than a thousand years. It originated as a religious observance and became increasingly secular over the centuries until its religious trappings all but disappeared. Today, Halloween is considered a holiday for dress-up and fun, especially for children 1.
However, some people object to celebrating Halloween for various reasons. Some religious families may find the holiday’s pagan roots and association with witchcraft and the occult objectionable 2. Some schools have banned Halloween celebrations altogether in light of these concerns 2. Others may object to the holiday’s commercialization and the pressure to spend money on costumes, decorations, and candy 2.
It’s important to note that while some people may object to celebrating Halloween, many others enjoy the holiday’s festive spirit and traditions. Ultimately, whether or not to celebrate Halloween is a personal choice that depends on one’s beliefs and values.
The Grim Reaper Gathers His Posse
It was Halloween night
A night that all the denizens
Of hell loved
For on that night
All of hell would break put
They would celebrate their annual escape
For on Halloween they are allowed
To go to the surface sunlit lands
For a night of drinking,
Drugging and wilding
As bad craziness descends
Upon the land
The grim reaper and his posse
Dressed up as cosmic court jesters
Dressed as fools
They descended upon the world
And a night of chaos fell upon the land
Thousands died, as the Grim reaper
Added to his quota
Bonus kills were bonus points
He returned to hell with his minions
And the souls of the dead
Who soon became mere ghosts
Their voices crying in the wind
Echoing through time
Halloween Party Ends Up in Hell Writers’ Cramp
24 lines
On Halloween night
Sam Adams fell asleep
After a night of partying at the local bars
Dressed in his Halloween “Trump” costume.
He finds himself In a room in a haunted house
A sexy as hell, half-naked, wicked, wild. witch greets him
Giving him a hot drink.
He takes the drink
Soon notices the other people
In the room were demons, a ghost,
goblins, orcs, or a zombie
The devil speaks up
Welcome to hell, my friend.
He wakes up naked in bed,
With the naked, sexy, wild, wicked witch
Wondering what had happened.
His phone pings
You have been given a reprieve
See you in a few years
The Trumpian Pig leads the charge
Starts engaging in sodomy with Putin
Who chases after people
Cutting off their heads with his sword
They turn on to their fellow creatures
Raping and killing each other
and eating their fellow creatures
All night long
Then they attack me
Screaming
Jews will not replace us
And I wake up
Screaming
As the sun comes up
Just another nightmare
Maid Laird Strikes Again Tanka (Halloween Challenge Day 3)
walking the Scottish Moors
Sam encounters the mad laird
The mad laird haunting
Stalking the lone hikers
Killing them cut off their heads
The Legend of Dracula
Count Dracula
Was a misunderstood man
Sure, he was a vampire
And loved killing people
But the people he killed
Needed killing he thought
To himself
As he prepared to go out
For his midnight rounds
He was getting hungrier
Ready for his midnight snack
He was ready
To go out
And get things done
Things that needed doing
A Vampire’s day
Is never done
He thought
The Ballade of Frankenstein
Dr. Frankenstien
Woke up excited
Today is the day
For his big experiment.
He got to work
Putting things together
Getting his supplies
Making a list.
That evening he went out
To a graveyard
He needed a freshly
dead corpse
he rushed home
turned on his devices
powering it up
and brought back the dead.
And his creature,
his magnificent creation
Woke up and saw him
And killed him in a fit of rage
Frankenstein’s monster was a serial murderer.
Zombie Nightmares Zombies
Zombies
Nightmare creatures
Haunting my dark nightmares
Come to life at o dark hundred
can’t sleep
O Dark Hundred is a military/intel jargon for the time two to three hours before dawn when military operatives wake up for dawn operations. Depending upon location and time of year, it is between 2 a.m. and 6 a.m. I often have nightmares at O Dark Hundred, which for me, is usually between 3 a.m. to 5 a.m.
.
The Adams Family
Growing up
One of my favorite shows
Was the Adams Family
My favorite character was Morticia Adams
Who to me
was the sexiest woman alive!
Boy did I lust after her
She was my fatal attraction
Kind of women
Tall, with all the curves
In all the right places
With brunet Hair
Black blazing eyes
Sexy alto voice
With a foreign accent
A total
bad ass babe!
with a great ass
I also liked Cousin Fester
And It the hand
Nightmare Visions
Joe Lewis woke up in a dark and forbidding forest, not knowing how he had gotten there or where he was. He looked around and saw them staring at him. Hideous nightmarishly real creatures from his worst nightmares, looking at him with hatred blazing from their blood-red eyes.
The head creature, a half human pig with two heads, Putin and Trump yelled out
“All humans must die. After him.”
They began chasing him through the forest. He woke up alone in his room with two naked dead ladies in bed. Not knowing how he had gotten there.’’
Based on a recent nightmare.
Joe Lewis Meets the Grim Reaper
published in Spillwords
Joe Lewis was a retired, recently divorced US govbot on what was supposed to be his last fling. He died one night after drinking too much on Halloween, under a sinister full moon, in a bar known as the Cosmos. The bar was in a wretched, forgotten alley in Bangkok’s Soi Cowboy.
He awoke, not in a bed, but in a primordial, dark jungle. The air was a suffocating blanket of heat and humidity, thick with the cloying, metallic stench of fresh blood and the sickly-sweet decay of ancient vegetation. He sensed them before he saw them: a hundred malevolent, hungry eyes watching from the gloom. As a foul, oily fog lifted, a grotesque, blood-red moon painted the forest in a hue of madness, and he saw what had been waiting.
Before him was a vision ripped from the deepest pits of a fever dream. A monstrous procession of horrors from every dark legend imaginable: giant apes, shrieking banshees, skeletal figures, and things with far too many limbs. Cthulhu, its tentacles dripping with unholy ichor, slithered next to a snarling Cerberus. Raptors and a T. rex stalked alongside demons, while faceless things with glowing eyes watched from the shadows. The list was a litany of damnation: dragons, hellhounds, giant insects, witches, wraiths, and grotesque aberrations that defied description. They were all staring at him with a single, unified hatred. The mob was led by a grotesque, malformed abomination—a two-headed, half-centaur, half-pig creature with the leering, familiar faces of Putin and Trump.
The monstrosity’s mouths opened in a wet, guttural roar that echoed across the jungle. “After him!” it shrieked. “All humans must die! Kill Joe Lewis!”
The very ground beneath his feet turned against him. The trees, their gnarled branches twisting into skeletal claws, reached out to trip him as he ran. The pack of horror movies surged forward. The hunters and soldiers fired not with guns, but with flaming arrows and semi-automatic weapons that spat raw hellfire, illuminating the night sky with a terrifying glow. Giant crows, their eyes burning like embers, dive-bombed him, their beaks aimed at his eyes. The rest of the creatures closed in, their unified chant a chilling mantra: “Death to all humans! Death to Joe Lewis!”
He reached a dark, foul-smelling river just as they were about to pounce. A ferryboat, a vessel of pure, festering evil, drifted slowly along the black water, filled with hundreds of people whose faces were etched with a cold, depraved emptiness. With no other choice, Joe leapt into the river, a vile, churning mass of water snakes, piranhas, and gators.
The boat shuddered to a halt. Three silent, strange figures pulled him from the water, their grip surprisingly firm, moments before a gator’s jaws snapped shut where his leg had been. The sound was a symphony of frustrated fury—the snapping of reptilian jaws, the hissing of snakes, and the inhuman snarls of the creatures on the shore. On the boat, the passengers—who seemed to be more monster than man—sneered at him.
They looked at Joe with chilling disinterest, dismissing him as a worthless refugee. The three figures who saved him were rough, their eyes distant, but they seemed a far better company than the passengers, who ignored Joe or made mocking, guttural sounds about the “new arrival.”
The passengers were a horrifying tableau of humanity’s worst. Anti-vaxxer crusaders, crooked politicians, drug dealers, fake news reporters, and gangsters mingled with Wall Street executives and mafia bosses. They were a vile parody of a cocktail party, drinking, smoking, and using drugs provided by demonic slaves and skeletal robots. They reveled in their own damnation, their faces twisted into expressions of smug, entitled enjoyment, as if they had earned their place in this Hell. A punk rock band played distorted, obscene parodies of human music, their shrieks a constant background to depravity.
At the helm stood Charon, his ancient face, a mask of stone, and beside him, the Grim Reaper, a figure of impossible cool, dressed in a sharp suit and dark sunglasses. The Reaper’s face was a shifting, pan-ethnic void, neither human nor monster, just a chilling, empty space.
When Joe found his voice, it was a hoarse whisper. “Where am I?” he asked the two figures who saved him.
The Grim Reaper handed him a glass of thick, oily liquid. “Hell whiskey,” he said, his voice a low, resonant hum. “I am the Grim Reaper, and this is Charon. You are on the Ferry to Hell, floating down the River Styx. We saved you from the welcoming committee. They hunt the newly dead, kill them again, and take their bodies for a bounty. The damned are then reborn as slaves, ghouls, or worse. But sometimes, a virtuous soul escapes, and we are obligated to take you to Limbo. Stay with us. If you join their party, you will never leave. They are all going to the ‘other place.’ I assume you don’t want to go there.” He gestured toward the revelers, who were now engaged in a ritualistic, drug-fueled dance of the damned.
The Grim Reaper continued, his words were like a cold blade. “We are taking you and your friend, Mr. Alvarez, to Limbo for processing. He might be going ‘upstairs,’ but as a lawyer, I have my doubts. You know what they say: Heaven has almost no lawyers. Hell is filled with them, along with crooked cops and mafia figures. Limbo is the purgatory for bureaucrats, and the red tape is a living nightmare. The computer system is always crashing. You can’t get tech support in Heaven or Limbo, you see. All the good tech folks end up in Hell.”
Mr. Alvarez was a famed Italian human rights attorney, a lifelong fighter against the very corruption Joe was witnessing. They spoke of their lives as the boat drifted on.
Mr. Alvarez said, “Mr. GR says I might be the only lawyer to get into Heaven in a long time. The rest of us end up in the ‘other place.’
The river grew blacker, the air thick with the smell of decay and sulfur. In the distance, giant pits of fire burned, their light casting a hellish glow on the horizon. The welcoming committee of nightmare creatures followed the boat, their screams of hatred echoing across the water. They jumped in, retrieving partiers who fell off the deck. On the shore, the creatures tore them apart, their screams replaced by the sickening sounds of bone cracking and flesh tearing. The boat finally stopped at a towering gate to Hell.
The partiers disembarked, their faces filled with a morbid excitement and walked into the gaping maw of the underworld—one of many secret entrances to the world above. Demon functionaries in sleek, black suits met them, their eyes burning like coals. They disappeared into the suffocating depths of Hell.
The Grim Reaper took Joe and Alvarez to the next stage: Limbo. Before them rose a colossal black building that clawed at the sky, filled with an endless army of demonic bureaucrats.
The Grim Reaper said, “Wait here. It won’t be long. I like you, so we’ll put you at the front of the line.”
Lost souls, their faces pale and drawn, wandered aimlessly.
Signs in every language read: “Abandon Hope. Wait for your turn. Judgement day is on hand No drinking, drugs, food, phones, or sex. No sleeping. It shouldn’t be too long.”
A demon functionary, his voice a raspy hiss, appeared. “Joe and Antonio, follow me.” He led them to the Grim Reaper.
“Joe, Antonio,” the Reaper said, his hand outstretched. “Please tip the demon.”
Joe gave him a hundred dollars; Antonio gave him a hundred euros. The demon, his eyes filled with greed, demanded more. The Grim Reaper let out a terrifying, guttural curse in Demonic, and the creature dissolved into the crowd.
“Demons get their vacation on a full moon,” the Reaper explained. “They run wild but need human currency. Hell, currency doesn’t work on Earth. The exchange rate at the Bank of Hell is real Hell.”
The Grim Reaper’s handheld device hummed to life. “Just as I suspected,” he said, his voice softened. “You are wanted ‘upstairs,’ and a guardian angel is watching over you. You almost didn’t make it. There’s a glitch in the system. You’re being sent back. Your final status determination will be sooner than you think. I hope we can be friends. I’m always looking for assistants. We had a lot of fun. Think about it when you come back.”
Joseph Lewis awoke in a cold sweat. He was in his bed, next to the girl from the bar. He got up and turned on his computer. A message popped up.
“Mr. Joe, I hope you enjoyed your tour. There was a computer glitch in the matrix system that controls Limbo, Heaven, and Hell. As I told you, tech support is hard to come by here; the good ones are all in Hell. But in any case, it wasn’t your time. Your friend made it and sends his regards. The drinks are on him when you finally make it. Oh, and contrary to that old song, we have the finest beer, wine, and spirits you can find in Heaven—and Hell as well. As for the others you saw, you know exactly where they’ll end up.”
Your friend, Mr. GR the Grim Reaper.
Mary’s Ghost Demands Revenge
On Halloween eve
Mary’s ghost
Went out to play
Showing up
At her son’s house
Demanding to be heard
Demanding to tell her tale
A ghostly figure
Filled with grievances
Hatred and fear
She said
She can not rest
In the other word
Until her grievances
Are heard
But in the meantime
She would take a Snickers bar
And a cup of Irish Joe.
“Halloween” is a contraction of “Hallow eve”, meaning the “evening before Hallow” or, more fully, the evening before the feast day of “All Hallows”. Hallows is an old word meaning saints. So Halloween means “the evening before the feast of All Saints.”
All Saint’s Day is a feast day in the Catholic and Orthodox churches that commemorates the deaths of saints and martyrs. The earliest attestation of it dates from the early fifth century, in the eastern church (this was back when there was just one Christian ‘denomination’), when it was celebrated in the spring. In the Orthodox church, it still is celebrated on that day. By the mid eighth century, the feast had been moved, in the west, to November first, as it is still celebrated in the Roman Catholic church.
So where did the tradition of “trick or treat” come from? That doesn’t seem to have much to do with the death of Christian martyrs!
That tradition stems from the pagan festival of Samhain , or “Summer’s End”, which was the beginning of the Celtic new year.
Some scholars — though not all — have argued that the western Church changed its celebration of All Saints Day to correspond to this pagan festival; the idea being (presumably) that since the pagan country folk were going to be celebrating anyway, and most probably cared more about parties than about the religion that justified them, why not give the day a new meaning? Whether this was the reason for the eighth century change or not, the effect was the same: some of those old traditions were preserved in the new context.
One of those traditions had to do with the Celtic belief that other-worldly spirits, fairies and gods were most active at this turning of the year, and liable to play tricks on mortals. Sacrifices and gifts would be offered in an attempt to appease these powers.
So, when a child dressed as some monster shows up on your doorstep asking for candy, the ancient origin of that “trick or treat” question means that, in their role of trickster spirit, they’re asking for such appeasement. Just be glad that, unlike their Celtic precursors, they’ll be happy with a Snickers bar rather than, say, slaughtering a cow!
For tomorrow, write a story or poem about not a fairy or child wanting candy, but the departed soul of someone the protagonist knows, arriving at the front door, a soul who demands appeasement in the form of righting some wrong done to or by them in their former, mortal life.
One of your genres should be SPIRITUAL.
Halloween Never Ends
Joe Lewis went on a binge
Ended up at Cosmos Bar
In Soi Cowboy, Bangkok
On Halloween night.
Twenty drinks too sober
He saw creatures lurking about
As the full moon rose over
The Chaya Prao River
The monsters saw him and began chasing him
Down the dark dangerous streets of Bangkok
Yelling “after him. Death to all humans”
Thousands of people newly turned into zombies
Joined the chase
He saw an open bar
Ran into it and found himself
Back at the Cosmos Bar
At 0 Dark hundred
He sighed in relief
Had another drink
Then looked out at the street
The creatures had returned
He ran out and the chase continued
until he ran back into the Cosmos Bar
For the second time that night
Then he looked up
And the chase continued….
Write a story or poem in which the main characters are experiencing a “Groundhog Day” effect where every day is Halloween!
Halloween Banned as a Satanic Pagan Holiday
36 lines
The Christian States of America
Imposed Christian fascism
On the old United States in 2030.
The government outlawed
The observation
Of anti-Christian holidays.
Banning observing
Diwali, Rosh Khana
Other Jewish and Muslim holidays.
MLK Day, June Tenth Day
Black, Asian, Hispanic, and woman
History months.
But they reserved
Thier greatest scorn
For Halloween, October 31
Banned as an anti-Christian
Neo-pagan, satanic
Wicked Wiccan holiday.
But in California, the left cost,
East Coast big cities,
Hotbeds of resistance,
People celebrated Halloween
On October 30,
Which was not banned.
The custom was to dress up in costumes,
Mocking the new leaders,
Wearing nazi uniforms with swastikas.
.
Going door to door, trick or tweeting
People gave candy, money
Or words of encouragement.
But secret supporters,
Of the Christian State
So- Called Christians
Would shoot at them.
Calling them pawns of Satan
Who deserved to be sent to Hell.
Halloween Party Ends Up in Hell
24 lines
On Halloween night
Sam Adams fell asleep
After a night of partying at the local bars
Dressed in his Halloween “Trump” costume.
He finds himself In a room in a haunted house
A sexy as hell, half-naked, wicked, wild. witch greets him
Giving him a hot drink.
He takes the drink
Soon notices the other people
In the room were demons, a ghost,
goblins, orcs, or a zombie
The devil speaks up
Welcome to hell, my friend.
He wakes up naked in bed,
With the naked, sexy, wild, wicked witch
Wondering what had happened.
His phone pings
You have been given a reprieve
See you in a few years
Your friend,
The Grim Reaper.
Write a story or poem featuring fantasy as the genre.
Include the following words in bold
witch
zombie
ghost
devil
Halloween
The witches Halloween party
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On Halloween, an old witch
Sits in her lair in a haunted mansion
Overlooking the city
Surrounded by candy wrappers.
And a discarded costume.
The leftovers of trick or treat
Her trick was to take possession
Of the little ones.
As they pass under the shadow of a cat
Lucifer, her black cat familiar,
she sells their souls
to the devil.
Who appears
Like a bat in the wind
A bat straight out of hell.
At o dark hundred
The bewitching hour.
Prompt words
Candy wrappers
discarded costume
shadow of a cat
bat in the wind
Halloween Nightmares Stormy Lady Contest
Sam Adams fell asleep
On Halloween night
The blood-red full moon
woke him up.
He found himself
In a dark forest
And then saw them
Staring at him with evil hatred
Flowing from their red eyes.
Creatures out of his worst nightmares
Aliens, Banshees, demons, devils,
Ghouls, ghosts, orcs, leprechauns,
Imps, lions, monsters, tigers werewolves
Zombies.
Led by a half human, half pig creature
with the head of Putin and Trump
Who screamed.
“There he is after him
Death to Sam Adams “
.and they began chasing him
Through the dark forest
With the trees joining pursuit
He looked back
They were gaining on him
He saw a building lit up
And jump inside.
The door closed behind him
He was safe for now.
The Grim reaper looked up
Said,
“Sam Adams,
Relax, your time has not yet come.
I will send you home”
He woke up
From his Halloween nightmare
And ate some leftover candy
And had a glass of rum.
A message popped up
“Your status review
Is set for five years from now.
Have a nice life
Your friend
GR.”
Tell No One
“You must keep
This to yourself – tell no one!”
The old masonic leader
Told his key lieutenants.
Waving a ceramic feather
And a blank envelope
Containing the secrets
Of the masonic temple.
As he read them
Into the tenth degree
Masonic secrets.
Secrets going back
To the ancient Atlantis
When the first Masons
Arrived from the Planet Sirius.
He said,
“Stay here
And say nothing more
For now, we will talk later.”
Answering the broken doorbell.
Hearing the muffled laughter
of children
Coming for Halloween
Tricks and treats.
As the wind chimes
Chime in front
Of the old haunted temple.
Prompt words
Begin your STORY or POEM with this line, bolded:
“You must keep this to yourself – tell no one!”
Include all the following, also bolded:
ceramic feather
blank envelope
broken doorbell
muffled laughter
wind chimes
Halloween Memories – the haunted forest in Tilden Park
In Berkeley
There is a haunted forest
In Tilden Park
Along inspiration point
the forest they say
was haunted by many ghosts
of the past
including the Indians
who used to live there.
but during the summer and fall
of 1974 there were rumors
that there was a new ghost
a mad bagpiper
who roamed the hills
playing his mournful music.
one Halloween night
late at night,
my friends and I went to Tilden
after smoking some weed
and drinking some beer
as we walked in the forest
we heard through fog
the sound of a bagpiper
we were a bit apprehensive
wondering if we were going
to encounter the ghost,
but the bagpiper
never appeared
the sounds faded away
perhaps it was just the marijuana
causing us to hallucinate the experience.,
Maybe there was no bagpiper,
just our wild marijuana
a black cat
walking down a path
under the moonlight
thinking dark thoughts
the black cat
is a special cat
dispatched from hell
working with the grim reaper
the black cat
is on the prowl
searching for those
whose time is up
the cat knows
and the cat walks
the dark pathways
to your door
and when you open the door
the cat swoops in
and bewitches your soul
taking you with him
as he meets his Satanic master
with your soul as his present
all in all
a good day for haunting
On Halloween Night, Senryu
On Halloween night
Wild things emerge everywhere
Killing all humans
On Halloween, Goblins Come Out to Play Senryu
On Halloween Eve
Goblins, ghosts, and wild things
Come out to hunt us
Whispers Beneath the Hollow Moon”
Co-pilot Halloween Poem
Beneath the hollow Halloween moon,
Where shadows stretch and silence croons,
The wind speaks secrets through the trees—
A haunted hymn on midnight’s breeze.
Gravestones hum with ghostly light,
As restless souls rise from the night.
Jack-o’-lanterns grin with flame,
Each flicker whispering a name.
A crooked house on Widow’s Lane
Stirs with whispers, soft and plain.
Its windows blink like watching eyes,
Its doors breathe out forgotten cries.
A black cat leaps from crypt to tomb,
Its fur aglow with spectral gloom.
It leads the way through fog and fear
To where the veil grows thin and sheer.
There, witches dance in swirling smoke,
Their laughter sharp as spells they spoke.
A reaper waits with silver scythe,
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