haiku #344

It doesn’t matter
Cause you’re still on the death list
So get back in line

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Poll

Death joins the card game and wins a couple of hands. you think nothing of it. Then other people begin to leave and soon there is only a handful left, you and Death. What do you DO?

Fold and go home.

Place all your chips in a MASSIVE stake.

Try to wind UP Death?

Try and BECOME death?

Conversation With A Worm

Hi. I am alone. It’s dark in here. Where shall I begin? Are you comfortable? Well, I died in 1991.
I never got to see the Spice Girls live and heaven knows what happened to my CRUISE!
Well, life It was good if you count all the nutters I had the acquaintance of knowing. Vainglorious
petty, too intelligent for their own good, scatty brained monsters of the sort you find in the thriller
movies hacking bits off unsuspecting victims part of a lifelong orgy of bloodlust and domination.

over humans.
Sorry I got nostalgic for 1991 there! It was a good year for potatoes too!
So, I’m dead. Funny it’s not as terminal as I had expected unless you count being buried six foot under
with nobody for company except you and you don’t talk too much. Don’t worry anything you say will embarrass me
to death! I’m already embarrassed. Fuck! I can’t even talk to a worm. Is it my self-esteem still? Or are you a large personality
? Hi Mr Worm with God-like powers! Hi, My name is Andrew Watkins Esquire. Dead as a hedge. With orange hair.
No green! Green hair with orange polka dots. and yellow streamers. Oh, those days! I used to go to a park when I was younger
and we would see swans geese and ducks children would run about and people would stand around a talk while the youngsters played
in sand pits. Some people fished. And I walked along wearing a sunhat. SPF 50!

Are you getting hungry? I am. perhaps I could eat my arm? I’ll chew on this brass handle instead. It lasts for ages I can tell you. Like a gobstopper,
it is I can tell you. I was talking to myself there. Worm? Worm? I can’t feel you. Say something. I thought I just felt a truck go by. A fourteen wheeler
y’know? I chose this place because it’s on the road. Didn’t want to get bored KWIM? KWIM? (you’re a useless conversationalist) Too late. let’s play truth or dare!
Whats the worst thing you have ever done? Ever eaten a worm?
I must have dozed off there. Why is it so DARK! I got spooked again. This is death. Screw this. I hate this coffin. I hate this life. I hate being alive. I am supposed to
be dead and unaware. Why am I thinking like this? Where is my mind? Who am I? Who are you? What are we?
Hi back again! I, no YOU worm are a rugged conversationalist? You never get bored. You never cough or walk off to make a drink or bugger off completely. You are probably
the second most bestest friend I have ever had.Next to me. Next to my dad.

Oh, Sob I’ll never see him again. No what about heaven? Will I ever get there? This is hell. Hell level unknown. Level 2 Pay at the Door. Well, you can have ALL my money mother fucker!
I have been so up myself recently giving everything a moral value and insisting that everything was wise in hindsight if you know what I mean. Like I was clever and made good choices. I mean
I ended up here alone except there’s no wife to chow down on a brass handle with and nano worms where my eyes used to be. Fuck! I can’t even DIE properly. The Egyptians had the right idea
Burry all your mates with you (servants and gold) plenty to chat with and chew on. I wonder if gold tastes better than BRASS? Where is the internet when you need it?

WORM! WORM! GET ME THE INTERNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

Oh, God. I am still scared of dying! It’s like Groundhog day ever decreasing circles (Seventies sitcom) Worm Can you make a cocktail? I’ll have stiff wicket which is Pimms and Guinness OK
Cold meats! Ham! Picalilli! Beetroot! Pork, Beef, Chicken!. God, we are not going OUT! Worm, grab yourself a plate!.

That WAS nice!Worm. I’m going to have a nap now. CUL8R!

Dresden’s Bloody Flow

Dresden 1945 worldwartwo.filminspector.;com

The hill captures the spirit of an age
all can look upwards and see its peak
Zombies moping around at the bottom
cause a squeeze. Should I zombie or follow?
Spare parts for sale get your android here!
Get your arms here! Energy pills for sale!
Words for Swords and the incessant kill
What I leave behind others will follow.

Death roar blows Swallow the whales
Climb up on your comrades back, implode
scramble your limbs find a foothold, grip
for all your are worth grip for stability
Screaming while your whimper inches from your fate

Inside outside a view of the manor
Get ready for the crescendo. Finish.
Dream a mile for every push back.
Forget reality. You are mine. Tonight.
Eat warm food. Drink warm beer. Feel warm. Nothing more.
Carp a lift at the next rally point and rejoin the mad scramble for the hill.
Repeat.

Smoke and mirrors blind the vision and make the old new
so the blood of your comrades continue to flow unnoticed
and you do nothing to staunch the flow
soaking wet bandage finally discarded
hear the moan of humanity and join the flow
For all your yesterdays you sacrificed tomorrow.
Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Follow!!!Dresden’s Bloody Flow

Behind us lies the truth

Back from the dead. I chose death. Behind me was life. I chose death. Close by life. I chose death.

Behind was the tale that I grew up. I chose death. Behind was the impression effort made. I chose death. Behind were my friends. I chose death. Behind were accomplishments, minor and many. You know what I chose.

Here and now is the present future and the past. Like perspective, you can see them fade as they get further away. Closer to infinity. Behind because I am told what have you. Close and into the past where dwells a beast. A mouse. A house. Behind is a waste. Chaste. Bolder than before. Ready. Eager to please.So surreptitious glances remind you closer than by you feel.Pin drop. Because it felt so good. Natural. Because you forgot.Sun but today. Because you felt that way inside. Hope. Inside. Felt real.Inside. Felt real. Dog. Inside. Fine.Behind. Mine. Inside. Way of. Inside. Inside. Inside. Real

Behind glances. Smile. Awaken Inside. Suns rays. Chose. Rain. Inside terrible. Vain. Inside. Joy at being alive. Inside. Behind. When it comes again. Ready. When.

END

Ascending Denial

A whack candle holder in enamelled metal holding a white candle which is burning. Undisturbed I think I try to reflect on the stillness and to find the right words but instead of prose I get a big fat nothing and end up feeling empty. In the bed also made of enamelled metal a dying man or woman whose breaths rattle out of an impaired chest then out of thin dry lips opens Rheumy eyes before again closing to the world. A nurse comes and pulls tight the sheets over the soon to be corpse. This is the humane way I observe wryly as I glance at the headlines of the Daily Herald which gives news of the living I think. Better a quick death in the prime of life than this slow wasting into demise I think gripping the newspaper tightly like my own grip on life depended on it. People should not see that I think.this It’s too.real…I couldn’t find the words and let out a lot of air. I must have been holding it I think glancing down at the print again.