No Justice For the Funny Looking

Of course with these most accursed looks of mine, I should have fully expected to be confused with a mass murderer sooner or later.  Mine is a most Twisted and accursed tale, you see.

The policemen in my local precinct picked me up several years ago, based upon a most irrational Accusation.  The wheels of Justice do grind mercilessly upon nature’s oddballs.

 

 

After quite an obscenely long wait, I was at last granted, grudgingly, a Trial.  The Plaintiff, Estelle Rigault, was bitterly scornful and resentful of me.  As she walked triumphantly into the Courtroom, she flaunted all her hoity~toity airs and graces.

 

 

Her Royal Self~Appointed Majesty hurled every possible invective at me, determined to Testify that I was Involved with something that was so completely impossible for me.  Her Contempt for my supposed inferiority led her to feel free to do as she pleased to me.

 

 

My Defense Attorney, of course, was a joke.  He was deliberately assigned to my case, knowing it would be to my detriment.  In spite of my having produced a perfect Alibi~the fact that the murders had all been committed countless miles from anywhere I had ever set foot~all attempts to Testify on my behalf were conveniently crushed.  Perjury ran rampant.  Any claim that the law treats folks fairly hereabouts is quite a canard.

 

 

Everyone resents me merely because I stand out in ways folks don’t approve of.

 

 

Today’s words for Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie are:  courtroom,twisted,plaintiff,accusation,justice,contempt,trial,defense,involve,perjury,alibi,testify .

Annunci

Synchronicity

Now I wake up very early.

I start my day about at six

a.m.

 

“What time is it?” I ask aloud.

I have to go to work quite soon

Of course.

 

I eat my wholesome breakfast and

I take my daily shower too 

At dawn.

 

I beat the noisome traffic jams

In both directions day and night.

It’s sad.

 

Each day I follow this routine.

I have it memorized by now 

O.K.

 

I pray my daily Rosary. 

The beads are getting old and worn 

With time.

 

I have a nice hobby or two

To fill the time when I’m alone

At last.

 

Someday I shall pass on, my friends.

No one will know that I have come

And gone.

 

 

Here’s my very first ever attempt at a SYNCHRONICITY POEM  for Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie’s Saturday Mix.

 

 

Distinctive Name For A Distinctive Recipe

Mark and Gemma were sitting down to supper one afternoon.  The set the table and got the cheeseburgers and French fries ready.

 

 

The were just about to get started when Mark immediately got up and walked over to the refrigerator to reach for the huckleberry preserves.  As he put a dollop onto each of his cheeseburgers, his stunned girlfriend looked on in total and utter awe.

 

 

“I beg your pardon!!” she demanded. “In just precisely what universe, may I ask, is that considered acceptable?!”

 

 

“Everybody enjoys an occasional wocklecockle every once in a while,” he reminded her.

 

 

She gave him yet another dumbfounded, disapproving smirk.

 

 

He went on to explain, “Wocklecockle, noun, from the old English, any unconventional topping on a salad, sandwich, meat, dessert, or whatever.  So did your parents raise you in a tree house in Squaresville or something, or what?  It’s considered all the rage in fashionable ‘haute cuisine’ circles.

 

 

“If you will kindly excuse me, please my good man,” the lovely lady stammered as politely as possible, “While I’m quite certain that Pierre of the Waldorf, and Oscar of the Ritz have given it their ‘Lah Di Dah’ (smug gestures) seal of approval, I shall please have to excuse myself from the honor and privilege of your company until further notice.”

 

 

Welcome back to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s Tale Weaver .

A MOST DANGEROUS ONSLAUGHT

The Boogie men were purported to be quite Ruthless.  No one had never really seen one up close, but in the aftermath of their attacks, the depth of their poison was quite Unmistakable.

 

 

The beginning of their terrifying murderous spree became evident when a small  Boy, living on the local Coastline, noticed some erratic behavior in his family’s Brood of chickens.

 

 

At first, policemen and other public officials expected to be able to Localize the damage, but it soon became obvious that the Dark nefarious force behind it all was simply too much to be taken lightly.

 

 

Scientists and engineers throughout the world have been attempting to devise a Coil by what of which they can transport anti~Boogie man chemicals to the region.

 

 

In the absence of ability to see the creatures well, townspeople have been forced to settle for merely dim, vague  images of their shadows and Contours.

 

 

Each time one of the creatures attacks someone, the victim begins hysterically to Tremble and to become visibly sick to his Stomach.  Within these monsters’  Sphere of influence, all hope appears to be forever lost.

 

 

Welcome to  WORDLE # 129 .

Local Characters

I have three noisome neighbors.  

I dread them, one and all.

Alas, I see them nightly,

And me they do appal.

The first is o~so~smitten

With Gramsci and with Marx.

He Zaps the patience out of me

With radical remarks.

The second is delusional. 

She thinks her voice so sweet

Though when she warbles all I hear

Is an annoying Tweet.

The third soul seems to suffer

From everlasting flu.

And every other moment 

Resounds with an Achoo.

 

 

Here is my contribution to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s Saturday Mix .

 

 

Blast To the Past

Messrs. Sherman and Peabody were working on a new machine at S.U.N.Y. Farmingdale.  The details of their experiment were largely Unknown, except that it was an attempt at traveling through time.

 

 

One day, after a history class of mine, I decided to sneak a peek at their brainchild, to see how they were progressing.  As I wandered over to Nathan Hale Hall, I politely greeted a lovely Svelte classmate of mine, distracted by the Curls in her hair and the Bounce in her walk.

 

 

Because I had a math class coming up in about an hour, I was forced to Rush through my adventure.  When I got to Hale Hall , the first thing I noticed was a professor’s Speech as he rambled on beyond an open classroom door.

 

 

When I got to the room I was looking for I put on my I.D. Tag, and proceeded to Insert my card into the slot on the door.  Inside the room was an overwhelmingly Complex device, which emitted an ominous Heiligenschein.  I honestly don’t believe such an insane machine is a possibility, beyond merely theoretically but hey, sometimes a guy has to Temporize a bit.

 

 

In spite of how weird it all is, I honestly hope there may be some way for time travel to be a reality.   Because of my always having been smitten with such a lifelong interest in the 1960’s, I’m looking forward to a chance to travel back to that era.

 

 

It’s time for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #128 . S.U.N.Y. Farmingdale is a real school, but this isn’t a true story.

 

 

 

Wordle #127 Order

Mankind is a species whose very existence relies upon order.   Each of us can be counted on, even spontaneously, to Follow certain demands, either spontaneously or deliberately, which guarantee some kind of order in his life.  In the oriental world it may be called Ikigai (生き甲斐). 

 

 

Whether it’s specifically a religious Devotion, or just the Cultivation of some sense of regularity out of a Skimble~Skamble universe, no one really wants to Incite chaos.

 

 

Each thing, even if it’s something as simple as Laughter or the Roundness of the Earth, has to be predictable and orderly.   The seasons, including Spring, which we are currently in, are also governed according to this rule.

Each individual should also make an attempt at Mastery of his physical health in order to ensure Longevity.   Any Encumbrance to legitimate obedience to certain rules can lead to nasty consequences.

  Welcome to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #127.  This week’s words are :  Devotion, Skimble~Skamble, Laughter, Roundness, Longevity, Mastery, Spring, Ikigai, Encumbrance, Cultivation, Incite, and Follow .

Quite An Unlikely Source Of Inspiration

Every day I tell my family and friends that I want to go outside for a while, to take a long walk, and to communicate with my muse.  They all humor me, thinking it’s just a figure of speech.  I’ve always been known as the overly creative, imaginative, pensive one in our crowd.  Little do people know that my particular muse is a dead ringer for Mr. Potato Head with such awfully silly taste in hats.

 

 

Here’s Mindlovesmisery Menagerie Photo Challenge # 256 .  I couldn’t resist an attempt at comedic effect. 

The Dangers of Apotheosis

“I’m Cinderella’s wicked stepmother,” the horribly stern, unyielding woman explained to the journalist who interviewed her.  It’s my place in folklore to represent mankind’s dark side, in government and authority in general.  I’m what happens when people abandon all notions of a rightly ordered system of governance and allow their lives to be taken over by a Frankensteinian counterfeit, with my apologies to Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley.”

 

 

“Continue, please,” said the interviewer.

 

 

“It all started with Adam and Eve’s Apple, or was it a pomegranate?” she went on. “Pandora’s Box and Prometheus explain it so well too.  Mankind has always been quite the sucker for power, a need to reconfigure the world in his own image and likeness.  I, as Cinderella’s wicked stepmother, represent the way in which the world is understood when mankind abandons all responsibility for his actions.  Her ugly stepsisters, of course, represent the malevolent fruits of such a horrid fate.”

 

“The death of Cinderella’s mother represents the death of western culture.  Ask Humpty Dumpty.  He’ll vouch for me about this. Ella’s father never took care of her mother, nor did he show her any respect.  Now he’s stuck with us, his true and just deserts.

 

 

The interviewer listened quite attentively, taking copious notes.

 

 

“As everyone knows,” the horrid woman went on, “There’s always hope.  I’m not happy to tell you this, but as you know from Perrault, the Brothers Grimm, and Charlotte Bronte, Ella’s fate isn’t necessarily hopeless.  That’s where the Fairy Godmother and Handsome Prince come in.  It’s not something I enjoy telling people but I’m bound to admit it here.”

 

 

“In a way,” she explained, “You could say that I might not have even existed were it not for man’s utter self~absorption.  I have no separate ontological existence of my own, and I only show up when man stoops to the lowest he’s capable of.  As I said before, about all those other characters I’ve referred to, we exist precisely in order to remind man of the borderlines over which he simply must, at all times avoid trespassing.”

 

 

This week, for Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie, we’re asked to write in  Tale Weaver # 216

about a character who represents the Forces of Evil.  A lifelong hard~core conservative and bookworm, I’ve always been quite insatiably interested in things like this.

 

 

 

 

 

Intense Pressure

 

“Red or blue,” Fensterblau asked Felcher to choose.  

 

“Oh come on,” his sidekick complained.  “These experiments aren’t only Weird.  They’re quite Useless.  I thought we’d agreed, long ago, to Distance ourselves from such pathetic pop cultural trends.”

 

On their computer screen was a sophisticated map monitoring development’s within the Earth’s Crust.  While most people would tend to see such a thing merely as in intriguing Divertissement, the pair of scientists found them quite intellectually intriguing.

 

 

For the past several months, ever since they agreed they’d be Willing to take on T.H.R.U.S.H.’s latest experiment, they’ve been Bedeviled by all sorts of claims that foreign agents were getting the Upper Hand, in violation of the Official Secrets Act of 1911.  It was, at all times, to be understood that they were easily able to Cozen even the very best of our men.

 

 

Occasionally their highly advanced machines would Clatter somewhat when suspicious activity was at its Height.

 

 

Yet again Fensterblau asked Felcher, “Red or blue?”   The latter gave him an icy, disapproving smirk, and cringed in resentment.  “You never Quit, do you?”

 

 

“You don’t understand,” Fensterblau explained.  All I wanted to know is whether you want your coffee in a red or blue cup?”

 

 Here we have another wordle from MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie.  Today’s Wordle #126 includes the words :  Useless, weird, distance, crust, willing upper hand, bedevil, cozen, divertissement, quit, clatter, height