Daffy Gladhafi

Omar the clown was getting a close shave with a bloody sword by his naked Ukrainian nurse in his underwater bunker.

Son #1 came in, O big Daddy of the 41 year glorious dictatorship, we have a small problem.

Tempered steel caressed his neck, What pray tell have the savages wrought? 

They are marching toward the capital. We've lost the East.

1.5 million destitute workers from China, Turkey, Italy, Mali, Bali and inner Mongolia ran away. 

So what. We have 2% of the world's oil under burning sand castles. Oil for guns. Thanks to our Italian and British friends we possess trillions of dollars in high tech weapons and killing machines. We have seeing eye dogs of war.

He turned a blind eye to his son. Ok, here's what I command you to do. Give everyone $400 and a free apartment. Give them a car. Give them empty promises filled with hypocrisy. Give them anti-aircraft guns, nuclear and biological weapons, isotopes, radiation microscopes, saline solution, sunglasses, my Green Book and swords. I will destroy Earth.

Son, historical unpleasant genocide facts and cemeteries will remember me. My idiotic legacy is complete. 

Blood will flow faster than an Austrian named Adolf wheeling his luggage filled with orphans down an endless dirt road in Cambodia. Hunt down the greasy dogs. Kill all the cockroaches. I am the greatest.

Sam and Dave Part 2.5

Greetings,

Inside his cement cell Dave’s angry voice danced with stranded rusty brown barb wire encircling his domain name, easing over shards of fractured green glass embedded in shrapnel’s perimeter. The Chinese introduced barb wire when they occupied the neighborhood for 1,000 years. 

The French ate pastries, introduced excellent wines, produced intricate glass mosaics for Dalat eternal spring walls to prevent strangers and invaders from getting in, getting on, getting the better of them, shards of glittering glass composed of miniscule myopic minimal, musical and colonial architectural ideology. Yellow buildings aged gracefully along Rue this and Rue the Day. 

Eventually the Yankees with their megaton Catholic missals of mass destruction, and chaos unleashed their fury on the poor unsuspecting suffering masses gathered in Chu Chi’s tunnels well below the surface of appearances. Dave knew this because his grandfather’s father and his father’s family all the way back to a dynasty encroaching on walls and shrines inside brown temples welcomed the silence. During the day they worked fields before going underground where nightingale arks brought carpet bombing, napalm, agent Orange. Forever. 

‘Quick into the tunnels!’ They sat sweltering, crying, still. Listening to the dull roaring threaded whoosh as steel and iron canisters thudded, this tremor, shredding forests, fields, homes danced into flames. Heat soared over their tunnels bathing them in sweat. They went deeper. Deeper, following hollow carved earth trails. The earth swallowed their breath, their bones fertilized soil. Ancestor bones cried in their sleep.

The sweet silence, save all the crying, wounded after all the foreign devils packed and left, fleeing in terror as peasants streamed down from the mountains, out of caves and tunnels, poling rivers, attempting to escape, walking on water, drinking all the oceans in their creation myth, draining lands of blood, forcing them back into the sea. A blue green sea danced in blood.

This easing down of their voice flowing between crumbling sand, crushed red bricks laid haphazard. Cement walls blocked everything but the sound of their anger, frustration and repressed bitterness at the reality of life’s twisted reality. Their memory was a fiction and this fiction created their memory.

Metta.

Free Fire Zone

Greetings,

A modified version of this entry was originally posted 28 April. Future tense in the present tense Bangkok tick tock. The alarm bells are ringing. Ding-dong, the witch is dead.

Central Bangkok is now a free fire zone. You know it's come down to the basics when citizens trapped like rats fight with sharp bamboo poles, slingshots and stones against tanks, armored personnel carriers and frightened conscripts.

They shoot arrows at helicopters. Amazon Indians tried this tactic. The arrow of time points to entropy and chaos.

David and Goliath. The city is a glass and brick jungle. Welcome to the urban jungle. In real time.

Arrows, slingshots and rocks. Primitive vs. Machine. Avatar.

A sniper takes out a man in fatigues. Fatigue sets in. Poor people say, fight to the death. A man with a wheelbarrow rolls through the city village, "Bring out your dead, bring out your dead."

A spokesperson says. Starve them out. Turn off the electricity. Give them a taste of high tech military power. Liberate the masses. 1984. ONE STATE rules.

Citizens wait for an 82-year old king to say something like, Go home. Go back to your poor rural villages. Support glass and brass high rise city development. Support the monarchy. Why is it anarchy? Mon-anarchy. It's the rule of law says the government. Our law. We print money. We hire armies. We make laws. Obey or die. Guns and intimidation and inequality and laws. 

The poor need affordable food, clean water, opportunity, health care, fair wages, education, and so forth.

It has been reported, via movement sensors people dance a little faster as explosions scatter metal, debris and death outside the neon splashed venues. The DJ simply turns the music up a decibel level drowning out the yelling and screaming of red shirts, yellow shirts, polo shirts, ambulances, innocent victims and bass driven hip-hop tick tock.

Red shirts represent the poor people. Yellow shirts represent the middle class.

"Poverty and corruption has absolutely nothing whatsoever to say or do about this issue," said B.S. Sympathy, a well respected scion of foreign banking firms, investment and real estate development companies.

She spoke from her heavily fortified villa in an undisclosed Bangkok location while eating caviar, drinking champagne and petting twin poodles named Lucky and Fortunate. "Let them eat cake."

The Department of Tourism said this will have no effect on:

a) tourists desperate to get out
b) tourists desperate to get in
Ships from England are now standing by in Bangkok sewage canals to evacuate nationals.

"....But taken together, they suggest a campaign by shadowy elements in Thailand to stir fear and create a sense of instability."

It's highly plausible to insert the country of your choice in the aforementioned sentence other than Thailand. You have roughly 170 choices. Start with the letter A and work toward Z, say, Algeria, Afghanistan, Bulimia, any central Asian country, China, and so on.

They stare at you from the vacuum of their eyes and say, "Would you like to make a deal?"

Metta.

Brian Turner, poet

Greetings,

I had the pleasure of meeting Brian in Siem Reap in February. We shared the day and stories. more...

His first book, Here Bullet is now followed by Phantom Noise.

Here Bullet has sold 25,000 copies, excellent for a book of poetry. It's available through Amazon.

Here's a link to a recent piece about Brian and his new poetry book published by Alice James Books. more...

"We've reached the line of departure," Turner wrote in one new poem. "So lock and load, man. From here on out we are on radio silence."

Metta.

 Fire, heat, experience, time, memory, write, revise = poem

35 years later

Greetings,

Today Vietnam celebrated 35 years since the end of the war.

58,000 Americans and 3 million Vietnamese were killed. The images are from the HCMC museum in Ho Chi Minh City and Ha Noi History Museum.

Metta.