Anno Domini /from Cosmo and His Garden Earth

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It’s well documented the way Judas betrayed Jesus just before their big dinner but there are a few undocumented occurrences that were left out. To begin with it wasn’t supposed to be ‘The Last Supper’ because it was an awards dinner where Jesus was gonna give props to his twelve disciple pals. Before the dinner began Judas came up to Jesus all doped up on his favorite drug opium. His cognitive abilities challenged he attempted to lay a sloppy French tongue slurping kiss on Jesus while at the same time reaching down to comfort his rod and staff. The J-man became alarmed when his man meat began to respond a bit too eagerly so he pushed Judas away. “Judas please! We’ve been through this before, not in front of the guys. It’s my reputation I want to keep up not my dinghy! They can see my semi right through this thin robe.” Judas feeling spurned (and stoned) began yelling “Cut out the dramatics you know very well you like when I comfort you. Now you cast me like a first stone? That father of yours dammit! Now I’m glad I told that fucking Lucifer where he can find you.” A deathly silence filled the room speaking stereophonic volumes. Judas had thrown the son of god under the chariot bus and the shit was about to hit the windmill. Tears welled up in Jesus’ eyes, “Judas…..must you betray me…. with a kiss?” Jesus was hurt but he also knew this was the plan from his old man so he walked into the Garden of Gethsemane with his head and dinghy hanging down. The rest as they say is scripture. As for Judas he was stoned and remorseful so he went back to Lucifer for something stronger to dull his heartache. Lucifer needing to rid himself of the bastard betrayer gave him a dosage way too strong and Judas OD’ed. Judas was found dead in the mud with a contoured confused look on his dead face. By the time Cosmo and Mary Anne returned from the District their son Jesus was dead on a cross.
The sight of the young man nailed to a wooden cross filled Cosmo to the brim with shock. Shock and anger. His beloved youmans had not only lost their way, they had killed the only son. What was even worse for the mourning couple was how violently they killed him. The thought of his son tortured, thorns stuck in his head, nails hammered into his hands and feet, left in the hot sun was too much to bear. Jesus was left to die all alone. Angered Cosmo turned his back on his youmans and headed back to the District with Mary Anne to be with fake Jesus, the child who had become Jesus’ body double. There they would remain for eighteen hundred and twenty three years. It took them that long to reach the final stage of their grieving process. One morning they just agreed it was time to go back to check out garden earth. Cosmo had been gone far too long. They returned just in time to see some dude named Louis Pasteur had figured out the world of tiny little organisms he called germs. Puzzled at these germs Cosmo spoke gently to Mary Anne, “Pius defecation, what the fornication has been going on here?” He needed to review what had been going on in his garden during his absence so they went straight to the surveillance videotapes.
Sans popcorn or any mood enhancing Cosmo and Mary Anne viewed the video on the giant abstract flat screen. They watched the various stages of growth the garden had undergone since their son was killed. Some of it was appalling and some of it endearing. Overall Cosmo was filled with more disappointment than pride. “Look at all this Mary, all the wars, famines, and diseases on Earth! What the burning underworld could they be fighting over?” Mary Anne had majored in Modern Galactic Sociology and was able to grasp the situations well. “Cosmo, these battles they have been waging seem to have two things in common. Arbitrary lines of land ownership and the belief in different gods. They believe they can own part of the garden all for themselves and created lines which they kill to protect. They have formed religions and each religion believes it has all the answers and they are willing to kill any who disagree. Me thinks they have been killing each other for so long half the times they’ve forgotten why. Look at all these atrocities Babe, wars fought in Rome and France between protestants and Catholics, Sudanese war between Christians and Arabs, The Crusades, The Inquisition, not to mention something they call world wars. My sweet nebula what have they done to the memory of our son?” Mary Anne was on the money. The youmans believed it to be garden youman not garden earth. They lock up animals, experiment on animals, why some were even using animals as entertainment, either killing or being killed for youmans pleasure. Cosmo threw up a little in his mouth, “It’s true my love, they have blighted the memory of our son and used Jesus as an excuse to kill and maim. Its deplorable. And these germ things have caused deadly plagues, measles, anthrax, rabies, typhus, small pox, and the bubonic plague. The Black Death. The Bubonic plague that spread everywhere and claimed over 75 million lives. How could those micro-organisms possibly have gotten in my garden?” Mary Anne thought carefully before giving her opinion. The persons name she was about to use was a source of discomfort in their relationship. Not sure why because Cosmo did after all know what kind of work Mary Anne did before they became a cosmic power couple so he knew she had been with others. Even so Cosmo is a god and gods have major ego’s and relationship issues. Of course he had godpenis envy so he was not happy that Mary Anne had sexual history with Mychrighton. “I’m not sure I should mention this or not babe but Mychrighton is pretty well known for his experiments in micro-organism in the Andromeda Strain Galaxy.” Too upset to allow jealousy to sneak into his thought pattern without a hint of injured pride he mulled over her statement. In fact it was an a-ha moment for Cosmo. “Of course, the pathogen killer. Mychreigton had used satellites to destroy his own creations with micro-organism warfare. He would have destroyed them completely if not for the brilliant Lucille of the Babaloo galaxy.” Lucille developed and introduced the Kalocin antidote into the Andromeda Strain. Her brilliant work became a universal antidote which is still used today. “I have to figure out a way to introduce Kalocin in the garden. Maybe we can get this Pasteur guy to think he discovered it.” If Cosmo had dropped Lucille’s name on purpose to counter the subconscious feeling of jealousy it worked. Mary Anne’s face reddened ever so slightly and she angrily reminded herself of the once hot and heavy relationship that was all the rage in the District gossip papers. She thought about firing back with another comment about Mychrighton but took the high road because of the important work ahead.
The two agreed to forge a plan to save the garden and figure out a trap to ensnare the demon seed that was planting demon seeds. Part one was to get the youmans to discover ways to combat the deadly pathogens and hopefully lead up at one point to Kalocin. They believed if they could show the youmans that if they continue on this path of making weapons so destructive it would threaten the existence of the garden it would stop wars. As for the god thing, they hoped that by educating the youmans more about the universe that they would all agree on one theory of how life began and stop killing people who threaten their god or gods. They noted how the youmans had already made giant strides in knowledge. The youmans had figured out mathematics and use abstract thinking and reasoning to solve problems. It’s helped them have a better understanding of their world and introduced the concept of shared education, especially science. Between the various fields of study they were certain the youmans would come to the conclusion that the universe was not created by God and therefore would stop warring. In theory anyway. From simple abacus to Fibonacci and his brilliant scale great minds have developed on earth. “Mary honey, look at some of the intelligent youmans that were in the garden. We had Aristotle, Socrates, Plato, Copernicus, and Galileo to mention a few.” Mary loved to play and said loudly, “What about Marco?” Cosmo chuckled and responded with a quick “Polo!” But Cosmo had more to say. “Yes and not just them, men like Columbus, Magellan, Isaac Newton, they have made tremendous contributions and created things meant for the progress of their species.” Mary Anne had her favorites as well. “Don’t forget Sam an his Morse code, or Jethro Tull and his seed drill. Not to mention Joan of Arc.” The playful jab did not go unnoticed but Cosmo was already thinking ahead. ”Uh huh, many people have had many contributions and with a little nudging we can get the youmans going in the right direction. But we do have to deal with old Mikey boy first. What to do about him?”
What indeed. A very touchy situation especially considering what happened in the past. But this is a different day and a different situation. Cosmo had to come up with a plan to prove that Mychrighton was behind the dabcle sneaking his destructive microscopic killers onto his garden. Up until now the germs an pathogens in his garden were all beneficial. First step was to make sure it wasn’t a natural mutation of the beneficial microbes. Cosmo had to isolate some of the killer disease carriers. He needed to employ the help of a friend. Who can he trust? Not Lucy, that would be a bit too awkward, and James, well James has enough issues with the return of the Klingon wars. The best person for this job is the always Jovial Frodo. Road trip to The Shire!
TBC

Afghan Rose Powder

rose

The rose
Beautiful but trapped
Petals wilting
In fields of asphalt
Where poppies thrive
While dandelions run free and wild

The dandelion
Free but unwanted
Facing hatred
Through killing fields
And sidewalk cracks
While roses win the hearts of lovers

The rose
Beautiful but deadly
Thorns of blood
Piercing skin
China white
Chaining souls
While dandelions run free and wild

The dandelion
Wild but trapped
Spores in the wind
Snared cotton fibers
Alive in a spoon
Dead on the streets
While roses win over the hearts of lovers

The rose is beauty and purity trapped in its own loveliness
The dandelion won’t be bought or sold trapped in its freedom

How Does Your Garden Grow

garden

G.
Adam my son with your choices I grapple
I offer you melons yet you chose the apple
Now here we are in the Garden Of Eden
I offer you Eve but you’ve chosen Steven

I know I’ve preached love all through the week
But this ain’t what I meant by turning the cheek
The sanctimonious amongst us need to understand
How a marriage Can be between a man and a man

I don’t mean to be peeking inside of your bed
But I expect fornication not just getting head
How will I sanctify your living together
With you boys going out to play all clad in leather

A.
I pray to you father don’t harbor such vex
Love is much more than us just having sex
Why must they define the way we show our love
Is not everyone equal in your heaven above

If divorce and adultery is considered unfair
Sanctimonians you speak of own more than their share
They revel in their sins cause they get washed away
By sitting on benches in church on Sunday

While parentless children suffer unbearable trauma
Steven and I will raise our kids free of bad Karma
I know this might not be what your original plan had
But you created love without condition and everyone’s glad

G.
I created this world in a mere seven days
But I’m not here just tom garner your praise
I created sun and then water I created all life
I created this woman to be your wedded wife

A.
So much you created to make us all happy
But why is there hatred to make us feel crappy
The most beautiful thing any one of us heard of
Two people living life married….and living in love

PEACE

Reality Dissolves

empty

A vacancy so hollow it causes deep pain
Dreams echo inside abysmal desolation
Chasing sanity down glass rabbit holes
Existence perpetuated through dark desperation

Broken lucidity
Unruly validity
Emotion fragility
From all this hostility

My prophet he poured me hope on the rocks
Said “listen my friend, this to shall pass”
Illusion is always an arm length away
Reality dissolves at the bottom of the glass

Life on the run
Tasting a gun
Call 9-1-1
Before its all done

Solace can be found in chemical compounds
Bliss arises when the mind is all blurred
And dead or alive is a relative term
When life hinges upon the absurd

New Apocalypse

apo

Welcome to the new apocalypse
Ominous dominance across Metropolis
Standing idle instead of stopping this
World is burning with God on top of us

Crushing souls
Removing hope
Noxious fumes
Choking rope

Deny him and defy him
Existence is just a lie
Defile him and revile him
Let the wretched of us die

My world revolves on broken glass
While grazing fields of poison gas
Every revolution may be the last
Pity those who survive the blast

Smoke is rising
Burning homes
A sight of great distinction
Acrid smoke
Mortal stench
A place of mass extinction

Provocative apocalypse shoved down our esophagus while optimistic populace suffers through necropolis
The new apocalypse

The Continuing Adventures of JT Hilltop/The Long And Winding Road Home

home

Whenever you’re hitchhiking you take a chance on the driver’s intentions. Kidnapper, serial killer, sexual predator, cannibal. And those aren’t even the scary ones. But if you’re broke and you need to get somewhere far away taking a chance may be the only feasible option. I caught a glimpse of my reflection, wild stringy hair, rough beard, dirty clothes, and generally pretty unkempt looking and pondered further. On the other hand the person offering me the ride is also taking a chance. Perhaps I’m wielding a machete waiting to take over his truck, maybe I’m an axe murdered, or a road warrior searching for a target to engage in a fun packed evening of torture. So when it comes down to it we were both taking a chance. Thankfully for us both we each proved to be pretty much normal. Or at least not nefariously crazy. Jeb was driving a medium sized furniture store truck called Franklin’s Furniture. Creative name aside he was a relatively nice guy who it turned out has a home complete with wife, kids, two cats, a dog and I would assume a picket fence outside of Fredericksburg Virginia. The furniture store he drives the truck for is a family business with Jeb Franklin the oldest son of the founder and owner Frank Franklin. (I know, right?) The only excitement Jeb ever seemed to have was when he took trips down to North or South Carolina to pick up furniture for the family’s store. He was enthralled listening to my tales and I was more than happy to pass the time relating my travels in a slightly embellished format. In fact he was so enthralled by my enhanced tales and so tired of his “boring” life he decided we should pick up a few beers before he has to go home to his mundane life with “the wife and kids” and go hang out for a bit. So we pulled off I95 at Fredericksburg and drove about fifteen minutes before he pulled into a deli.
A plethora of thoughts began infiltrating my otherwise stable mind. Mostly those chances I mentioned earlier. Is this dude gonna bitch rape me, make me squeal like a pig in heat? Damn man maybe he really is a serial killer planning on chopping me in pieces to hide me inside his furniture. Perhaps scheming to skin me alive to make a humanhide leather recliner chair for Franklin Furniture. Or he could just really just a lonely guy whose biggest thrill is when the new prime time TV season begins? Of course I was hoping for the latter but preparing for the former. Fate would really have a fucking laugh and a half if after all the crap I’ve been through I finally choose to get my shit together only to have me murdered in the State For Lovers. Irony at it’s most seductive. Probably have me die unceremoniously too, just a boring straight up kill. No cool ritual killing or sadistic torture to at least make my last breaths interesting. But fate would have to find someone else to play it’s practical joke on because it turned out Jeb was just a nice guy looking for some company to break up his mundane existence.
When Jeb got back in the truck we drove to a cemetery, which I admit at first gave me frightened goosebumps. They were groundless of course because it turned out to be Jeb’s favorite spot to sneak in a few beers before going home when he returns from trips. It was a desolate quiet area, no traffic, no people walking around, nothing but a bunch of dead bodies. Spooky, but sacrosanct. And anyway Hells Bells man free beer! I mean it’s not like I’m gonna give up every vice on earth. So it was we drank beer while chatting and laughing at just about anything and everything as if we were best friends. I suppose for that hour and a half we were best friends. Then again, best friends don’t normally do things like what Jeb did to me. After the two of us were bordering on total drunkenness nature called out to me. I got out to pee by a big old tree in wooded area not far from the truck. While I was answering natures call returning about half of the free beer I had just consumed Jeb started up his truck and took off. There I was holding my own. Literally! I cursed fate for having found a way to get a quick chuckle in.
First things first. A wiggle followed by a zip so I could assess my new situation. Drunk, alone in a cemetery in who knows where, no money, no ride, and as is normally the case in my shithole life, no hope. No fucking way! Not this time, not this bullshit again. Every time I make an effort to stand up reality knocks my ass down again leaving my head spinning in some unfamiliar place. Dammit I was so damn close this time. Out on I95 with the potential to be back home in a day or so ready to leave all the bad luck behind. I was gonna turn my life around again only this time it was for real. But Destiny is not just a stripper in the club, destiny is a mother fucker who holds a carrot of beer in front of a gullible weak willed freak with a sarcastic smile. No way, no sir, not this time Destiny, no bills in your G-string od life. I’m gonna sober up, figure out where the hell I am and get back on the road. In the dark! With a belly full of beer! From a Goddam cemetery!
I was walking down the dirt road peering at the oddly symbolic tombstones reaching up from the earth as I headed toward the main road in search of Same Old Shit Highway. You know what? Fuck this. I’m not having it. I am not gonna let this derail me. This fuck up is just another stanza in JT’s song. Well I ain’t singing the fucking woe is me blues anymore! I’m singing inspirational tonight. I said I would turn this bullshit around and turning it around is exactly what I’m gonna do. Right here right now. My slumped over defeated slow walk morphed into a quick paced confident strut as I headed out of the graveyard towards the highway. Two snaps a twirl and a pirouette just to prove my point. Very powerful! There was only one thing I had overlooked. I was drunk. My peacock proud strut hit a large stone and I stumbled forward falling face first into the sidewalk. The scrapes on my knee’s and elbows combined with the pain from a slight ankle twist were nothing compared to the bruise my ego took. I apparently had an audience.
A young couple had witnessed my fall from grace unaware of the significance of it having been a fall out of a cemetery onto the sidewalk. But they were a caring couple who came over helped me up then listened to my tale of woe, no embellishment needed, with tremendous empathy. Jim and Deb were a few years younger than me both working their way through college before getting married. If the future of America lies in the hands of people like them then I’m confident we will all be okay. Deb offered to clean my scrapes and Jim informed me he was leaving for Boston in the morning. They offered me up a nights sleep on their couch followed by a ride as far as New York City. It was all I could do to keep the estrogen that had been building up from pouring through in a flood of grateful tears. I accepted. By this time tomorrow I’ll be back in Long Island, or at the very least back in New York. I was on my path to getting my life in order. The three of us walked down the silent street until we reached their apartment. The thought never once occurred to me that they might be one of those dangerous options of chance I had so over-thought about when riding with Jeb.
TBC