Category Archives: wannabes

SINCE … SHE LOVED ME NOT

She loved me once. Then … she loved me not. The former, I often heard; the latter … not ever.
But actions … and omissions to act … speak volumes … deafeningly.
And so my sick heart now hurts less; for romantic declarations aside, aside from our Creator,
nothing’s forever … but Him … or Her; and that’s comforting … most definitely.

That (S)he is forever is most comforting; but there have been other comforts … since she
loved me not. That a heart is mended is, largely, an inconsequential one;
but knowing that beyond actions speaking loudly, that inaction speaks volumes … deafeningly,
is altogether, another. That latter slice of wisdom ought matter … to everyone.

Art’s life’s been more dissolute than resolute. He’s lost much held dear, especially a child whom
would have turned twenty-one years young, this Autumn’s October.
But Arthur’s losses; of parents, child, wife and life oft pale next to that of others, whom
struggle in … Allah/God/Jehovah/Yahweh’s … time river.

SHE LOVED ME … NOT

She loved me once. Then … she loved me not. The former, I often heard; the latter … not ever.
But actions … and omissions to act speak volumes … deafeningly.
And so my sick heart now hurts less; for romantic declarations aside, aside from our Creator,
nothing’s forever … but Him … or Her; and that’s comforting … most definitely.

ON HUMANITY … NATIONALITY … AND SPIRITUALITY

Poetry, albeit belatedly, resonates within Arthur’s soul. His memories, and the poetically
rendered memories of others, profoundly reverberate within him, loudly,
albeit, inaudibly. Wordsmiths, (wo)men of peace, are his heroes and heroines; Ovid, Willy,
Emily, Khalil and Maya, et. al., eloquently teach us, albeit … sublimely.

Oh, what a specious species are we! We relegate our very real humanity to a status effectively
below that of abstractly surreal identities of nationality and spirituality.
Wordsmiths, (wo)men of peace, ought be our heroes and heroines; Ovid, Willy, Emily,
Khalil and Maya, via their poetry … might teach us … albeit, sublimely.

ON POETRY … AND POETS … AS EDUCATORS

Poetry, albeit belatedly, resonates within Arthur’s soul. His memories, and the poetically
rendered memories of others, profoundly reverberate within him, loudly,
albeit, inaudibly. Wordsmiths, (wo)men of peace, are his heroes and heroines; Ovid, Willy,
Emily, Khalil and Maya, et. al., eloquently teach us, albeit … sublimely.

MEMORIAL DAY … MEMORIES

There’s a bullet with my name on it.
It may be in the magazine.
It may be in the chamber. Or … it
may be … in the air … unseen.

How long until romantic notions of seeing the world and being all you can be
surrender to the unbearable reality of PTSD’s insanity?
How long, if ever, until the romantic notion of the glory of being a warrior be
relegated to the dust bin… of history?

A CLARION CALL … TO ACTION

Arthur’s manuscript means to be … a clarion call. Its poetically rendered Roll Call of the nations
and territories is an ethereal snapshot in time. It is purposefully, and timely, meant to be;
capturing the ebbing and flowing, of really surreal, states. But from Mt. King’s surreal Bohemian
summit, a brightly painted yellow-bricked road … points forward … toward our destiny.

ON DESPOTS AND IDIOTS … SAVANT

No public official Arthur has ever written to has ever dignified this co-author
with a response; not a one … ever. No wonder though, for no living
(wo)man is a prophet in his or her own land. Reasonable minds may differ
on whether this nation-state paradigm is working …

… for … or against us. But isn’t it reasonable to believe that what’s worked previously
may need to be tweaked, going forward? Ought we not have a plan
to do so? And so, the co-authors live for a writing, proposing, most politically
incorrectly, that we move toward a global plan … Bohemian.

GOD-GOOGLED … CO-AUTHORS

Billi “Buzz” Ard, the Fly,

The proverbial fly on the wall is near everywhere. What’s the all-seeing, all-hearing,
Buzz Ard seen, and heard, over … archaeological … ages?
Kisses, hugs, sighs, merciless eviscerations, beheadings, rapes and shrill, blood-curdling,
screams. Buzz the fly’s been … on all … (wo)man’s stages.

Hung “Kong” King, the Ape,

Kong, the ape; as dysfunctional as necessary to ruin whatever’s thoughtfully
planned; an ardent fan of royalty and all its trappings, King Kong
abhors change, revels in political incorrectness and limits what’s needlessly
planned, to TV-dinners, TV Guide … wine … she-apes … and song.

Lou “The Lip” Lippi, the Lemming,

Lou the lemming is the Arthur Everman of animal worlds. He is filled with terminal sorrow;
best being all things … to all men … as convenient.
He’s heard the Word, and of the opiates of masses; fate’s loneliness and his sad morrows,
fuel … a paralyzing … and powerless … irrelevance.

Imso “Job” Stateless, the Chupacabra,

Job, the chupacabra is a shy, God only, knows what. He is afraid of ubiquitous shadows,
of good doctors, whom might yet help; of life, love … and dreams.
If anything (save blood-sucking) needs gettin’ done, what better day then, than tomorrow?
For dreams … lose steam … when stymied … are dream teams.

Abraham Solomon “Nerd” al-Nerdi, the Sheep,

Abe, the sheep: Abe is surely the geekiest sheep alive; missing links, albeit rare, are.
But from Abe to Art, not a clue to review. Dreams are
like that. Of course, getting credit matters not to those whom seek where treasures are.
What matters is … that treasures are … where hearts are.

and, Arthur “Art”, Everman,

Ah, Arthur: Less than heroic looking, nonetheless, Art, like some heroes, is a dreamer;
alas, like all too many dreamers, he’s a dreamer of pipes;
for dreams, being dreamy, oft dissipate before life’s onslaught, as if, they never were.
Yet timely visions … in time … may become … ripe.

ON A CHANGE … OF PERSPECTIVE

Ever look for a hat, already invisibly, on your head? Or spectacles, on bridges, just under your
eyes? Or otherwise, not clearly observe what you look
for? A change of perspective often brings into view what’s unsuccessfully sought for.
In looking for hats … don’t God … overlook.

ON A YALA … CALL TO ACTION

What if, in surreal, real-time nonfiction, the five hundred thousand strong Yala Young leaders
simultaneously tweeted @netanyahu? That’d be, by itself … newsworthy!
The Yala Young Leaders are convening Sunday. Why not use social media, including Twitter … to deliver 500,000 tweets … overwhelmingly!