Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

 

 

Death is the eater of time, and in the end, no one escapes time

Death knows not discrimination
It’s sojourner paid me a visit
Frigid fingers of finality
Toying with my bones
Sending chills to my marrow
Tapping into my syrup of life
Glaring his anxious eyes perniciously
Leering mockingly a disdainful smirk
Baited breath of icy anticipation
Whispering “Surrender and succumb.”

I will not surrender my memories
Attempting to soothe and assure
With words bluntly lacking hope
Is this it?
Is this when it ends?
My mind keeps on fighting
But my body betrays my aim
I turned to my center of strength
Found it full of positive energy
From sparks begun at my sacred hunting grounds
Through the ancient gallery of friendship
Up through years of developing the love
A wave of love and support
My army of love
With weakened élan I addressed him
“Not this time Death!”
Death moved slowly backward
Smirking with deep disdain
With a stinging smile replied
“When you’re time has come I will visit longer…

Life can change in an eye blink. When we are forced to deal with the loss of a loved one we are also forced to imagine life without them around. When it’s, you that may be the one lost you are forced to wonder how you can live without everybody you love or care about. It’s a far different occurrence to confront your past than to have your history facing you, but in the end, The love you make is equal to the love you take. I want to thank my army of love for lifting me through the first stage of this struggle, and for assuring me, you will always be there to help me through.

I’ve been through a multitude of experiences, and lately, it occurs to me….What a Long, Strange Trip It has Been….LOVE YOU ALL!
Live and Love in Peace

Seasons Change, Northeastern Exposure

 

Through spring and summer
The leaves on our trees
Don masks of splendor
Boldly displayed thickets
Fragile chameleons of life
Poised in veils of chlorophyll
Hiding their true colors until Autumn
When the weather commands them
Strip off their sleek jade facades
Allow the leaves to glow true
In their natural nakedness
Astounding crisp colors
Emblazoned in fiery reds
Dazzled with robust yellows
Tickled with inspirational oranges
Natures fireworks to rival our own
Until the trumpet of ice chill wind
Blows its harsh cacophony
Enticing the leaves to dance and slip free
An exodus from their branches
Spinning and tumbling towards earth
Determined to enrich the soil
While the tree’s skeletal remains
Stand in defiance of the cold air
Unafraid of the contemptuous freeze
Ready to bear the weights of winter
With it’s biting chill of snow and ice
Vowing to return fully clothed
Come the loving warmth of Spring
Yet each season bears its mysteries
Autumn owning one of the best
Over the last few weeks
The oaks dropped their seedlings
A treat for the hungry squirrel
In response the grey playmates
Plant acorns across the land
Hiding them for the future
But who’s future?
In the haste of the cold
The little creatures forget
The home of their hidden treasures
Where seeds are given a chance to grow
One day a mighty oak itself
A long lasting stanchion of life
Home to generations of birds
As well as small animals
And an ecosystem of insects
Sacrificing themselves to Mother Nature
With nary a complaint they join the seasonal displays of Mother Natures Beauty, offer food and homes to any and all creatures, give us oxygen, stand tall and glorious for our ocular pleasures, and entertain us with the mystery ff the cycles of life. That’s one of the perks of living where seasons change…Live and Love in Peace

JT’s Culinary Career Becomes A Pile Of Crap

 

 

J.T. Hilltop… (From Zen and the Art of Culinary Maintenance)
The freaking manager and Maitre D’ of Cavarleiri’s Restaurant ran off with the Payroll and my hopeful culinary career was cut short. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t used to the fecal matter hitting the rotary oscillator but Cavalieris closing was a lot to deal with. I thought I had found my calling in the restaurant industry and the furthest thing from my mind was not being part of the gastronomic cosmic enlightenment enhanced with copious amounts of weed. No longer was I an apostle to a culinary madman, no more waitresses to flirt with, no more free beers, no more sneaking joints in the basement. I was now saturated with disappointment and disillusionment. I guess that’s how my Dad felt about me, but I’m not here to wallow in self pity, I’m here to tell my story. No money meant no weed and no weed meant I needed to seek another avenue of employment. Fast! I needed to shed the dry burnt out snakeskin of the restaurant industry and turn on to some other form of capitalism. I needed to get far away from any kitchen, any Chef or any sexy damn waitress. I need a sacrificial rack of lamb so to speak. I should do what James did when he was here, some fast money landscaping. So it came to pass that I had became the new landscaper for James olf boss Muncie at Muncies Field of Dreams. More accurately put, I had left the bottom rung of dishwashing to join the bottom rung of lawn mowing leaf raking topsoil carrying shit spreaders. I had chosen to become a hard working laborer and have my skin scorched everyday by burning threats the summer sun makes good on while enjoying the hearty aroma of freshly decayed organic manure. Enough about the perks though; let me tell you about the downside. Everyday ended the same, my arm and back muscles pound out a rebellious beat building to a painful crescendo. As I reach to cool my aches and pains with a cold beer it seem as though all my muscles tightened up into ball of overworked subdermal tissues and tendons screaming at every movement. My skin radiates a pinkish aura from hours spent unprotected by those relentless threats of the harsh sun. It left my neck and shoulders feeling like James gave them an Indian neck burn adding to my misery. As if that weren’t enough, the omnipresent stench of decaying crap had implanted its neverending stink carousel deep into my nasal cavity. Olfactory nirvana! Out on the field one of my less enviable jobs, if that’s even possible, was to take compost which was Muncies name for decayed animal shit, and spread it across a field. At first the smell of evaporating morning dew so earthy and rich comes rising up off the ground like a wisp of warm steam in a tease just waiting for its vile replacement. Breathe deep and enjoy the best of nature while it lasts because within seconds comes the dank aroma of compost. Its a blend of some of the most offensive smells I could ever have imagined. Horse shit, cut grass, worm infested leaves, and decaying matter are the less offensive stench. Once dumped on the ground the aromas of a horse stable had a meeting with a quarantined rest stop bathroom, and then joined forces with spoiled milk and dead mouse body to create a cacophony of disgust that slowly crept up my nasal passage and made an all out assault on all five of my senses. There it would stay to hang out for hours even after my day was long over. A rank reminder of my newly acquired hopelessness that was eased, but not eradicated by the beer. With a cannabis chaser of course.
Partying had come to a new intersection as well. Turn right and head up the morphine highway that was one step away from the dreaded H. Heroin, horse, dope. A dangerous path to be sure but as long as we kept just to the pills it seemed okay. To the left was an array of uppers and downers that had become much too routine for us. From the ritual of lighting up to the ritual of popping pills. Ken the salesman was in big demand and was spending way way too much time with the low life dealer Arthur. As for me I was required to wake up early 6 mornings a week and work my body into a pile of mush. But I had every night free to do whatever I chose. I had begun spending more and more money on drinking and drugs, supplying not only my head but Carries as well. And many evenings I took care of Sue as well because my best friend Ken was always out copping drugs to sell. I had begun doing diet pills every morning to keep me awake and give me the energy to bust my ass out in the shit fields and then popping downers to take off the edge of diet pills so I could sleep. As if that didn’t suck enough on days when it rained I would be sent home and not make any money for the day. I quickly went through my head money after a week of solid rain. The summer was coming to an end and I was making less money. Soon it would be too cold to do landscaping and I would be out of work again. Fuckin A man! I couldn’t remember how the fuck I got here but I knew I needed to get the fuck out real soon.
As if on cue that week of rain and crappy weather had set me in search of a new destiny. Again fate reared its ugly head and out of the blue came an offer to become an assistant groundskeeper at a local Nursing Home. How cool to be able to use my newly acquired skills on three locations and get paid even if it rains. That’s how it was that I became something different. Now I was a shit spreader with a title. The assistant groundskeeper with a special attribute. I was in charge of manure movement. Whatever, I was working and making money on a regular basis again. And the work wasn’t nearly as exhausting. Life was good again. Now I could concentrate on saving up my money. I began working in the yards of the three nursing home properties at Vierno’s Nursing Homes Inc.

To Be Continued

THE STORYTELLER

 

The storyteller unlocks the subconscious
A locksmith using memories as his tool
Reminding us knowledge which lay dormant
Sleeping in the memories of our own hearts
Wishing one day to sort out real from imagined
So we listen with intent hoping to be free
Because feelings that lay frozen in our minds
Plead day to day that they be un-manacled
Free of the fears which lock our hope away
Holding hostage that which we already know
The knowledge that dawned with our births
Stored in the vastness of our repressive minds
Inside the temples of the storytellers graveyard
Where secret knowledge is preached in solitude
So we listen

 

 

The storyteller he makes no claims nor judgments
His tales are the dreams of visitors from the night
Imaginary and manifested friends of midnight lore
Some welcome some unwanted but all unfiltered
Preying on our eager and vivid imaginations
Reaching in to unleash our suppressed emotions
To strip them naked exposed unto ourselves
He asks not to be paid in silver nor gold
Only hopes to enter into our hearts and minds
And allow his words soothe or injure wakefulness
Offering no direction nor instruction be followed
Exposing incognito the paths of our choosing
Oftentimes he tell stories of profound love
Allowing many to reflect fondly of experience
So we believe

 

 

Yet for others love never seems to be enough
So he recalls stories of deep pain and loss
Sharing the pains he lived through and died from
Exposing himself while revealing our profound grief
And in the end with the many tales he’s woven for us
He blankets us all from that darkness which resides
Obscuring from inside the desires of the incendiary
Coaxing emotions to come bubbling to the surface
In a desperate search to find our own reflection
And fix the broken parts we tried to forget
Whether memories make you sad or glad matters not
It bears no significance once the story comes to end
The teller leaves carrying our hurts without reward
Upon his shoulders to cast into his healing heart
A mutual exchange of what is and what should be
As it was intended

 

The biggest fish of the fishing rod, a thousand tales from Scheherazade
Saviors of the suicide squad that make us stop and think so hard
Should we disregard our own backyard or traipse on down the boulevard
Scary streets abandoned yards, play at risk of being scarred
Don’t blame the words of the traveling bard its only a tale
The storytellers veil to hide his wails
Be he poet or prophet or teller true
He gives freely of words to me and you
Words plucked from his heart become his art
Right from the start
He writes them down not for glory
Only wants to tell a story
To reveals our eyes to our mirror
Put perspective little bit clearer
So gather round come in nearer
Stand naked before his story moral
Thank him for his message oral
Once he’s gone only words remain
Because no one notices his barrel of pain
They only ask him to tell it again and again
Until he has no story left

 

 

Fractured Soul

 

When the soul is fractured it’s fractured forever. We try and put braces on our fractured souls, people come into our lives that make it easier for us to function with the fractures, to love and laugh, but the fracture always remains. We only learn to carry on as if there were no cracks whatsoever. That’s a fucking lie!

 

My soul became fractured in one moment
My dreams turned into icy memories
Hope snuck out the bathroom window
Taking my will to survive on its back
That horrible moment I had to be strong
I needed to assure baby girl it was okay
Not that everything was going to be fine
But that it was okay to let go of the pain
She couldn’t speak so she nodded
Told me she loved me with a blink
The machines went silent
My heart fell apart
My soul fractured
Only one questioned remained
Do I live on or die

 

Fractured soul a life corrodes broken heart as black as coal
Free me now let me explode unpack my sorrow and unload
You can’t console a fractured soul
You can’t control the Reapers role
So take me down that lonely road
Back to my home
Where I always travel alone
My soul disqualified and compromised
Modified to be unoccupied minimized and oxidized
Rust and dust the tears I cried
Begging and pleading tell me why..
Nothing matters when your soul is fractured
Living life backward like a tortured actor
My essence smoldering in a nuclear reactor
That’s how it feels when the soul is fractured
Filled with all the hurt that I can manufacture
Like a homeless soldier stripped of stature
Left in the rain to scrap and forage
Thrown to the wind left unsupported
Purple hearts don’t pay their mortgage
Forgotten heroes packaged in cardboard storage
Alongside fractured souls of the morbid orphans

 

 

Our lives are made up of memory experiences
Big piles of good reflections and big piles of bad
Hopefully the bad pile is far lower than the good
But even if it’s not we mustn’t let the bad
Infect all the wonderful good things we have
Both piles make us up to who we’ve become
And who we are now comes down to one decision
Which pile to ignore and which to climb high
From my first memory I set out running
In a fervor to find what’s beyond the light
I didn’t realize when I was a young man
That I wasn’t running towards life but away
All along I was being chased by the ravager
If time ever catches up to me all I can do
Is surrender my fractured soul
And accept my final fate…..
I’m running as fast as I can

 

Live and Love in Peace

Stay The Night

 

 

I can’t sing and have zero musical ability but once in a while a melody gets stuck in my head wishing it had some lyrics. This is one of those times, an unusual trip into lyrics without a note. whatev….

 

 

 

My tender heart caressed so gentle
Makes me quiver in passions glow
Lighting me up in flames of love
Teaching me all I wished to know
Love means not possessive hearts
But to surrender unto desires
Sharing at will each others soul
As it stokes the passionate fires

 

 

Our very first date
Went so damn great
Everything seemed so right
A goodnight kiss
Became passionate bliss
Made love and stayed the night

 

 

Love had beckoned I had followed
Lusty wings embraced my soul
But her sword I never noticed
Until the stabbing took its toll
I believed every lie she told me
Her voice shattered all my dreams
Crucified me in my lonely room
Nothing is ever what it seems

 

 

Love comes and love goes
But once in a while love see’s the light
Passions bliss and a goodnight kiss
When you stayed the night

 

 

Tenderness can cause such pain
Like an open wound love bleeds
Coursing out to make me weak
With severed soul I make a plea
Stay with me wrapped in my arm
Heal our wounds and rub the scars
Her love no longer calling out for me
What she has with him is ecstasy,
An ecstasy that’s no longer ours

 

 

 

I call your name I hear no response
Something once spoken just doesn’t seem right
We promised we would never cheat
But you’re in his arms and in his sheets
Why don’t you stay the night

 

 

Stay the night
Stay the night
Its only right
I just can’t take
Another fight
So stay he night
Just shut the light
Don’t tell me another lie
Spoken out of spite
Then just stay with him
Stay the night
But don’t come back
On next daylight
Go to him and
Stay the night
Forget my name
I’ll be all right
So you should stay the night

 

 

 

Death In Fibonacci Sequence

 

Death
It knocks
You hear it
It stands at your door
Waiting for you to open up
The Grim Reaper comes whether you are ready or not

 

Sleep
The end
Gone for good
Never to return
Death stands outside waiting for us
Everyone has one you just have to figure out where

 

Grave
Endless
forever
Eternal dreaming
The sunshine of the spotless mind
An eclipsing shadow of the obscured fading moon

 

Death
Rising
Not afraid
Standing in the hall
Waiting for its moment to rise
Knowing that it has found what it has been looking for

 

Fibonacci figured out a mathematical pattern that repeats itself so often in nature that it becomes one of those mysterious occurrences in the Universe that defy explanation.  I can’t profess to understand even an inkling of his genius, but that does not prevent me from appreciating it and giving a genius mind some props…….Live and Lover in Peace

Death After Death, The Finale

 

 

By J. T. Hilltop

 

I had enough at this point. This creator, this “Al” had made us humans seem so uncaring and in denial of our position in world evolution. As humans we have made immense contributions in the advancement of our planet. Yea I get it, I’m dead and in the afterlife now but I still care about humanity and its place in this planets history. Al had a lot more to say.

“So many of the creatures that have perished from your advances would disagree as to how great human accomplishments have been JT. You believe you are the superior species but you think nothing of killing each other. Sure you pretend to care, but look at it realistically. If you walked down the street with an assault rifle and killed ten men you would be arrested, locked up for the rest of your life. Do the same thing in combat and you’re a hero. You like to pick and choose who and when your killing is okay, but in the circle of life its only okay for impending survival. You kill due to a disagreement over arbitrary geographic boundaries or differing faiths. You never learned to process that important information. Life is precious. You place animals in cages away from where they live so your kids can all gawk at the mighty lion or funny chimpanzees. Ever think of how they got there? I can tell you they didn’t walk in and say could you please put me up here for the rest of my life, this jungle is scary. The journey to your game farms, zoo’s, and aquariums were not pleasant. Animals should be where they’re supposed to be, living on earth like everything else, even humans. But as you say, that barn door is closed, it has gone way to far and it will take an act of profound evolutionary coincidence to reverse it. On some levels humans are a disappointment. You see JT, when I created your universe I had one rule to follow, and that was to never interfere with the process and development of life. We create life and then watch it take its course.”

“Not that we grow things just to look at, we grow them to allow them to experience and hence evolve and adapt. You may not realize this but those mighty oaks you think do nothing but stand tall feel as proud as they look and they enjoy their lives, the dangers and pitfalls as well as the wonder of having birds nest on them and watching as the generations of robins live out their lives. Yes there are dangers out there, and survival of one is often at the expense of another, but life is a happy accident. It’s an honor to have one and you have had a very rich one if you really think about it. You can point out the ugly parts, the funerals you attended, losing people close to you, the tragedies of life, the struggles and hard times, but don’t overlook those good things. That’s what made life so worth living. How many of those mountains and waterfalls and trees and flowers did you have a chance to enjoy? How many moments of intense joy did you experience? More than many I can tell you that. If you think back the magnificence of life will far outweigh the tragedies. The truly sad part is it needs to end. Conscious life ends JT so another life may have its opportunity to thrive and experience. You had a great life and you were part of something very beautiful, those moments in time you had. Like the animal that dies in the forest, you never really leave, you just become another part of the forest. A dead animal was food for grub worms, which were eaten by crickets, which were eaten by owls and so on. Nothing really leaves the jungles, it becomes another form of life. You are more lucky because the cosmos is your jungle, and you get to become other parts of the universe. If there was one thing I wish humans could convey back after they die it would be to shake up the living and tell them to enjoy life. Stop fighting over things that don’t really matter and enjoy the fantastic world around them. But alas, I fear the message will never be brought back down to earth. Anyway, its your time to leave and your going where you were always meant to go.”

Now I was pretty much speechless. All I could do was think over all he had told me. Knowingly Al took me by the hand and walked me into another room, a much more comfortable room. It was warm and inviting and I began to get just a little nervous as if I were in a cosmic hospice. The room was all glass and surrounded by a huge garden filled to the brim with plants and flowers, and chipmunks and birds. Alive with sounds of life, chirps, growls, shouts, running water. Like I was getting a last look at all the beauty my planet had offered me through the years. There was a stairwell that led to what I guessed was an observation deck of some sort. Al pointed up the stairs and I went, all the time taking in the sights, sounds and smells. So beautiful, I hope I’m not going to miss it too much. When I got to the top I was blown away. It was like a dream observatory looking out into space, the cosmos, the multiverses, or maybe infinity. More stars than I had ever seen, even in my younger days before light pollution obscured my childhood nightscapes. “Oh my god Al, this is remarkable.” Al was smiling. “An odd choice of phrase, oh my god, don’t you think?” I knew he was teasing me so I gave him the response he wanted. “It’s a conditioned response Al, I get it. God is a concept we invented to explain how beautiful and precious life is. That’s what the woman I first met meant when she said God is everything. God does exist but its not in the form of a spirit, human, or even a scientist for that matter. God is a concept to help us understand the information we are unable to process. The truth. That’s what I’m here for right.?” Al just gave me a knowing nod and placed his arm over my shoulder. The two of us stared into the sky for some time, inhaling its enormity.
“So what Al, this is it? All the stars out there, is that where I’m going?” I was staring up through the skylight and the view was breathtaking. Literally. “Yes JT, that’s your next destination. You are a bundle of billions and billions of tiny balls of energy and you will be released out there to become energy parts in millions of other matter. That’s why as a young boy you would stare up at the night sky with such awe and wonder, you where looking up to your past as well as your future and it was…No it IS beautiful. All your dreams of astral transport, traveling from star to star, visits to the moon and beyond. It’s happening, it’s real. Except your present self won’t know it. You were meant to gather info on earth and absorb it so you can enrich the cosmos. This my son…this your big moment. You are about to become part of something bigger than you could ever imagine. So go ahead, take off JT.”
I gave Al one last look, and smiled at him. “I’m ready. Sorry I made you look so nerdy Al, you deserve better. Thank you, thank you so much for this.” We stood in silence for a few seconds. “You know you’re right Al, I remember staring up at the night sky and seeing the big beautiful moon, and the thousands of sparkling little stars and always imagined being part of it, being up there and dancing on the stars.” Al was smiling a big smile now and he nodded towards the stars. I knew, knew in an instant it was my time to go, I gave Al one last look, mouthed the words thank you one last time, and left my world a very happy bundle, of billions and billions of balls of energy.
The Beginning

 

Interface Mountain, A Modern Evolutionary Three Act Tale

By J. T. Hilltop

ACT I
There was a really loud bang, sudden darkness, and a symphony of glass shattering into a million pieces followed by a wall of sound stereo system of twisting crunching metal in an uneven rhythm. “What t remember a thing. Yes, yes that’s it, yea, I was driving down the highway in a mad rush for work and then…..and then… and then what?” Everything is so damn foggy. No, not metaphorically foggy, actual dry ice on a stage foggy. “Wait! Where am I?” Am I in a fugue state filled with hazy wafting smoke. I don’t think so, I feel like an empty shell of a person, like everything passes through me but my memories are a plethora of echoes. Could this be death? No, but maybe I‘m just super stoned…It sure don’t smell like weed though, in fact it smells sort of clinical and pristine, maybe a hospital so probably not in my car stoned. So then where exactly am I? What’s with all the mist? Okay think…I was in my car on the way to work and what? “No! Oh shit now I remember, some asshole car came across the median straight towards me and into……. Oh fuck no, I was in an accident!” I am in a hospital. Yea, that’s it, I’m in a hospital and….. No wait, that can’t be right, the mist, no tubes or wires, no beeps, not in a bed, I’m…ah I’m in a… I’m sitting on a bench? No, not a bench. Wait! Am I fucking dead?” My flair for the dramatic apparently still alive I paused for effect…..That’s when shit began to settle into my head and shine a light on my situation. I am dead, I was killed in a car accident and now I’m in….. In where? The Twilight Zone? A morgue? Not Heaven! Purgatory then? Was I wrong about heaven and hell all this time? Maybe God’s punking me by placing me in the ‘Heaven Can Wait’ waiting room. Or sending me my own personal George Bailey AS2 guardian angel Clarence Oddbody to take me away and earn his wings. Hold on here, I’m an existentialist so if there is God he isn’t about to let me hang out on his turf, he’d probably send me to everlasting church or something just as tedious. So then just where the Hell am I, pardon the expression? As I was pondering my potential fate a loudspeaker broke the unearthly silence. “Hilltop, Justin Thyme? Is there a JT Hilltop here?”
Before I heard this announcement I was merely confused, attempting to piece together recent events. Some weird dream, maybe a coma dream or something but whatever it was I thought I was all alone. There are other people here waiting for what I supposed their own fates would be. I’m in some kind of group of the misplaced dead and I’m being paged. Now I’m like “Pew pew pew BAM.. Mindfuck!” Here I am trying to figure out what the hell is going on with my death when I get mind-fucked by a loudspeaker. Should I stand up or should I pretend I didn’t hear it? I was just about ready to find an exit when standing right in front of me was a young dude. “You’re JT, yes?” I gave this, this, umm, young entity the once over. A nerdy looking kid somewhere in his late twenties with thick rimmed glasses and a bargain store suit that was a bit to big for his small frail frame. He had thick short dark black hair with a pencil behind his ear but not a hint of a smile on his face. He didn’t even look my way as he was reading something on a clipboard waiting for confirmation from me. After a few seconds of silence he spoke again in a monotone voice, “Don’t make this difficult Mr. Hilltop, you’re already dead so you really have nowhere else to go. Nobody gets out so just come with me please.” He never even waited for acknowledgement just began walking away. I followed blindly as he led me down a hallway.
I was kinda hoping he was in search of his lost personality but sensed he was searching for my place whatever that may be. A place for me to exit. What a shit word to think of when your dead, exit! I decided I would try and engage this nerd so maybe he could help acclimate me as to just where I was or give me an indication of where we were heading, “So I died huh? Was it the accident? I bet it was the accident. So what, is this your full time job or are you just filling in? Is this even a job bringing the dead to their final destination?“ No response, “Come on man have some pity on a dead dude, help me out a little. Who exactly are you working for?” His pace quickened, “We all have our tasks here Mr. Hilltop. I work for no one and yet I work for everyone now just come along please, no time for idle chatter.” I processed his statement. No time? Maybe he has no time but if I’m dead then time is irrelevant, “I’ve nothing but time young dude, so help an old man out, what’s going on here? What are you like the Geek Death Squad?” The nerd shook his head as though I was exasperating to him, “Mr.Hilltop you died! Expired, kicked the bucket. You have ceased to exist. You were in a car accident and died because a drunk driver hit you head on. Looking over your file sir it seems about as an approprriate way to die as I’ve ever seen given your pension for the bottle. That or cirrhosis but either way how you died is insignificant. Your at the terminal right now, and please no lame jokes about the name terminal its been done a few million times over the years by people far more witty than you think you are. I’m a death agent assigned to take you to your Sherpa who will assist you in your transition. Now please keep quiet and continue to follow me we’re nearly there.” Transition? Great, more questions less answers. I peered at the doorways along the way and it appeared they had different religious symbols on them until we reached one door that had a big red X and the word Atheists on it.
Suddenly I was feeling like my head was spinning. Not really dizzy, but constantly spinning. Grumpy the young douche-nerd death agent opened a door speaking to someone on the other side, “I have a very uncooperative Mr. Justin Thyme Hilltop here sir. He never shuts up and he is now your problem, not mine.” The person on the other side of the door mumbled something incomprehensible and the young agent of death let out an exasperated sigh, “Well techniquely he doesn’t believe in any deity so he’s all yours Dee.” The door opened wide as the agent motioned to me to walk through. I walked inside. That is to say I walked through the door but actually found myself outside. It was about halfway up a huge beautiful mountain. Surrounded by gorgeous greenery of tree’s and shrubs, the sound of running water combined with an assortment of indefinable sounds made from various animals. I mumbled “paradise” as I noticed an old man with long white hair complete with matching silvery beard standing in front of me. “What the fuck are you like Kung Fu Gandalf or something man? Am I in Middle Earth?” The old man smiled warmly like…..well like Gandalf actually, “No Justin, I’m not Gandalf, I’m certainly no magician or wizard or even ninja and this is nothing like Middle Earth. You’re on Interface Mountain. I’m what you might call your Sherpa, my name is Dee Bays. Its my job to lead you back to the Mountain Mainframe after discovering your rightful place. Hopefully you can be re-appropriated correctly.” I chuckled, “You’re who then and this is what now? Sorry old dude but I didn’t get a word of what the hell you just said. All I wanna know is are you the one who can tell me what exactly is going on here?” The man had ancient looking eyes, much older than even he himself. It appeared as though they had viewed centuries of pain and sadness yet they had an incredibly calming effect. It was as though those warm narrow orbs were a separate entity that seemed to wrap me in a hug putting me at ease. Old dude placed his arm over my shoulders, “It’s okay Justin, or do you really prefer JT?” I smiled, “You can call me whatever you want but I prefer JT. How much longer do I have?” The old dude let a small laugh slip out, “Are you in a hurry JT? I can speed this up if you want?” I was pretty sure he was teasing me but just in case I answered with a hint of fear and desperation, “No,no,no, seriously, I’m in no hurry. Its just….Well my head is spinning and I’m confused.” Old dude began walking up a mountain path signaling for me to follow, “Your head is spinning because of the buffering JT, it’s a side effect of dying. It will go away once your operating system is re-booted.” More confusion, “My operating system? Re-boot? What the fuck?”

TBC

AND SO IT GOES

 

I littered the streets of my youth
With shards and fragments of ill
Deeds and wrongs left unpunished
Save for the breaking of my spirit
My saline teardrops iced to crystal
By the coldness of too many hearts
Dissolved into wisps of pining mist
From the flames of internal anger
While reflecting on the descendants
Of the ancient father of my yesterdays
Whose lasting advice I always follow
Remember always from which you came
So I cast one last meaningful gaze
One long sigh backwards in my horizon
Trying in vain to enjoy the final sunset
I now being the son of mine very own future
Plagued by memories like a sleepless mother
Tossing and turning as if on a hapless carousel
Yet in her heart should I find peace and freedom
And in my forbidden lovers arms I found bliss
Recalling murmurs from beneath satin sheets
In the twilight of the grand imploding passions
I can only hope my eagerness to please
Filled their souls as much as they filled mine
And always will I owe them the unpaid debt
Of presenting me with dreams to be dreamt
Nightmares as well as the specter s of joy
Easing my midnight delusions of utopia
Allowing my sun to always rise in smiles
Still as each day begins anew in my years of dusk
In each morn I taste the squalid irony this one thing
The time of my departing without my return
Shall be a time of gathering of memories for others
And so it goes……

 

Live and Love in Peace