Thy will be done
If I were to discover in a flash of clarity that I was omnipotent, I would use the power to do anything to make myself omniscient, and with this power to know all, I would examine the multitudinous interactions of every person to ever draw breath to determine if there exists any plane of existence that does not end in humanity's self-destruction. If it does, I will dispense with free will and ensure that the world I have envisioned comes to pass. If it turns out, however, that humanity is inherently flawed, that self-destruction is always inevitable, I will accept as failed the great experiment that is humanity and allow the present reality to run its course till its natural conclusion: annihilation.
Perhaps I'll get a dog.
Choke the sky
Imagine being woken up by the storm
And realise the storm is you
Imagine making life-changing mistakes
That no one else can undo
One day a human, taken by the curse
One day a god, for better or for worse
But by the second day a monster
Destroying the universe
In this case, I just can’t embrace
Whatever I have become
Crushing the world between my palms
And holding it under my thumb
I tried to change it for the better
And fulfil everyone’s dreams
But instead of a sugar-sweet laugher
I got bitter-sour screams
There are too many twisted souls
Piling upon my reign
And too few pure-hearted minds
Betrayed again and again
At his rate, it’s way too slow
In this state, I’m way too small
Although I’m bigger than them all
No god can separate the good from the bad
If bad is everything we ever had
And if it’s impossible to update
What this world needs is a clean slate
So I’ll be the one to choke the sky
And suck the life out of earth
I’ll kiss all the nations goodbye
And watch the planets’ rebirth
In the eye of the hurricane, they will wait
For their pity souls to fly
For ‘forgive and forget’ is way too late
The last god – that am I!
The Making of a Psychopathic God
“I was once a man . . . not so different from you.”
The words slipped off my tongue lacking the condescension I had intended.
“I know, my lord.” Came his reply.
He knew? What did this poor slob know? He knew nothing.
I . . . I know everything. Rather, I can make them think I know everything. Close enough.
“I had gone to bed slightly parched,” I began to recite the tale I had told hundreds of times, “It was a hot summer day . . .”
“Yes, my lord,” the beggar took advantage of my pause. “I know the story. I have heard tell of how you woke to find water dripping from the ceiling, how it quenched your thirst and how mysteriously it vanished.”
“I had summoned it. Even unintentionally. That is how great my powers are.”
This story was a vague facsimile of the truth. There was water but it quenched anger more than thirst. That sordid fool never bothered me again.
“Perhaps you can explain to me one thing,” I pause to build the tension, enjoying the feel of his rising hope, reveling in anticipation of knocking it back down. The power to crush a spirit is truly the greatest power of all. “Why ever would I do something for a maggot such as you?”
He sputters searching for an answer. “But . . . you said . . . once you were not so different. I thought you might understand my situation.”
“Once perhaps, but I am no longer the man I once was. I am as unlike you as day is unlike night, matter unlike emptiness, life, death. You are nothing. While I, I am everything.” A lightning bolt followed by a rippling crack of thunder punctuates my sentence.
I hate this kind of nonsense. I was no common man. I am not unable to sympathize with this man’s troubles but even at my weakest I was so much more than he could ever be. A nothing like him could never wrest such power from the hands of fate. I deserve this power. I suffered for it. It is my right. I am wisest. While I am generous with my gifts, I am careful to keep everything in check. I can only do so much or who know what evil could be unleashed. I must pick and choose, decided and conquer for the good of all mankind. Only I know what is best. No regular mortal could face the challenges I must. Greedy and lazy the lot of them.
Well, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, as they say.
“At any rate, I will help you.” I declare. “You have asked me no great thing.”
I snap my fingers, unnecessarily, of course, just for show. A basket appears at the beggar’s feet. He bows low, thanks me profusely and leaves.
I should not be so generous. It only encourages them. These small, pitiful, powerless creatures ought to make do on their own, as I always had. No one should have things handed to them.
It is so satisfying to flaunt my dominion and I am so kind, so generous. Like a loving father, I daresay.
They owe me so much more than their feeble minds can comprehend. They ought to pay me back, yet there isn’t much they could offer. I don’t require anything from anyone.
They could work for me, though I don’t need them to.
I can make them suffer to prove their value, hurt them to prove their strength, all the while demanding they shower me with praise and honor just to let them live. I could force them to worship me, to suffer, bleed and even die for me.
I could promise rewards for them in the next life, the life after life. They don’t know any better. They would believe every word.
And you know what?
I think I shall.
We Are Equals
"Men rape and brutalize each other. Equal treatment is not much of an advance."
I have dipped my toes in the cool water that is Prose. But with this comment on my post about rape, someone peed in the pool.
I imagine this person signing into their account, writing that comment, and going back out into the world feeling safe in the dark.
In the dark, I wake up. This was a fever dream. But in the light of my bedside table lamp, I look down and see my hands. They are made of stars.
I can cast over everyone what I truly believe.
I can finally say my piece.
At the end of time, all stars will die out, one by one. Ultimately, one last star will remain. It will shine the only light that is left, into the universe.
Perhaps this is my chance.
In the darkness, I sit up and grab pencil and paper. I start to write.
There are typos, edits that need to be made. I wipe away the pencil with the tears that accompanied my waking up.
I want their to be equality.
I have done it. With my pencil, I have written what the person had said in my comments, except I fixed it. I made it so we have equal treatment.
But let's go back to what they actually said.
"Equal treatment is not much of an advance."
What did this person want? Did they want anything at all to change?
I try to think. The pencil dangles in my hands. Finally, I write something down, no edits needed.
"I want there to be no more ignorance."
Maybe we can all be stars, illuminating, and not peeing, in a pool of someone else's tears.
Day after day I watched them fly above me darting in and out of my line of sight beyond the longleaf pines until they were gone.
"Come back." I would whisper. "And take me with you." I used to believe my yearning to be a bird had something to do with jealousy before I recognized the absurdity in comparing my desire for freedom and their quest for survival.
If I am a birder, and I wish to claim that I am, I am an inept one, because I am not sure I could point out the specific differences between a raven and a crow beyond the color black. With hawks and eagles, although I've done my research, if one flies directly over my head, I choke. Unable to differentiate before I lose sight, I consider myself an embarrassment to my country of origin. If I only paid more attention to details I would easily identify the most pictured bird in the US of A as the bald eagle, for shards sake. On coins, on paper money, on postage stamps, in the logos of Federal Agencies, and as a shining example prominently pictured on the one and only great seal since 1782. And then there is me, in 2022, in broad daylight, looking up like it's dark, as ignorant as a babe in the woods, longing to be a species I can't even identify. But ask me to do something stupid like a blind taste test between Miracle Whip and Hellman's Mayonnaise and I'll nail it. Go figure.
But I can definitively state the difference between a male and female cardinal. That tidbit of information grabbed me and stuck. If cardinals were humans, it would be the males wearing the bold slinky red dress and the females wearing the dull drab brown t-shirt. I don't know why, but that struck me as odd. I suppose because I am narrowly perceiving sexuality from a human heterosexual standpoint. Find me a bird that would fault me.
So I woke up this morning, low and behold, to find a message. It was not written down. It was not spoken, yet it was clearly understood telepathically from an unknown entity. I am to be gifted a supreme power to become whatever it is I desire to be. It is not like me to be prone to balderdash. But this message was different from anything else I have ever experienced. No joke. It was all consuming in a junkie meets heroine kind of way. Otherwise, the message was vague, about as specific as the contents of my kitchen junk drawer. Typically, when my eyelids open, like most of the world, I am about two drinks into a jag, semi-conscious, half in half out, so I was already in a compromised state, unwilling to deliberate the implications, rendering me ripe for the picking. It was then that I was distracted and pleasantly aroused by the dawn chorus of the blackbirds, and they led me to impulsively decide my fate; "I am going to be a bird. Not just any bird. A fricking big, bad ass, great seal, bald headed, US of A eagle. And I will fly wherever the hell I want without a care. No bills, no taxes, no stinking rules. Just me and the great big endless sky from sunup to sun down, winging it, where there is no such a thing as a dirty job, demanding girlfriends, party affiliations, Kim Kardashian, Sean Hannity or commercials squawking in the background; AFLAC."
And so it was, just like I had made a wish to a genie in a bottle, and away I went. Conveniently, my starting point was a nest, in a tree, right behind my house. Thankfully an empty nest, otherwise my freedom ride would have come with inconvenient complications. It hadn't occurred to me that an eagle could also be a father, or a mother like a human. It has always been my desire to fly solo. The only aisle I want to walk belongs in a retail store. Marriage, children, the whole picket fence minivan thing; not for me.
It might have been a good idea for me to have gotten up and contemplated my thoughts about such a major life decision over a cup of coffee. At the very least, I should have turned on the weather channel. Hindsight is, as they say 20/20, since little did I know, after several hours of sublime soaring, the sky started to darken. It almost didn't matter, because I believe I had already scratched the itch, and released the beast, until the wind began to knock the shit out of me. It was then, just in the nick of time, that my research from when I was a human paid off. Eagles, as it turns out, are the only birds that fly into a storm, using the wind to lift them up to an altitude above the storm. How smart. No wonder they landed their likeness on every dolla-dolla bill.
I had to remind myself a couple of times to rely on what I learned about eagles, instead of the lingering thoughts of my previous human brain where fear makes us do all sorts of weird shit, like avoiding bridges, climbing Mt. Everest, and steering clear of intimate relationships, and it worked. What a rush. It felt like I had been shot out of a circa 1782 cannon grabbing onto the back of a 2022 space shuttle after lift off. It was wild to look at the storm beneath me as I just lifted and lifted up, gliding like a mofo pro. Funny thing was, I never got tired, another advantage of eaglehood. Maybe my rash decision was the best decision I had ever made. Still, I felt curious and that same familiar yearning returned right after I knew the storm had passed. There was this lingering thought, perhaps it was just another nagging human mental atrocity, but it was strong enough to make me want to return to the nest. After all, isn't that what all birds instinctively do anyway?
When I arrived back in my old neighborhood, I realized, it really wasn't the nest I wanted to return to. It was my old bed. I can't say why, because I still wasn't tired. So I thought, "What harm could be done if I plopped down in the nest, and took a peek into my old bedroom through the window? After all, I was now in possession of the proverbial so-called eagle eye. So why not put it to use to quell my curiosity? I wanted to know if there could be someone else sleeping in my bed.
Don't ask me how I knew, but I knew after I took one look. At that point I wasn't sure who had been given the gift of the supreme power. Was it given to me, or was it given to the bald eagle that had lived all those years in the nest right behind my house, because there he was, in my human form, in my old bed. And he wasn't alone. Lying next to him was a beautiful woman. Not just any beautiful woman. It was my ex-girlfriend. The one I dumped when she said she wanted to get married and have kids.
But either way, I will have to assume things worked out exactly as they were meant to be, because suddenly my yearning stopped. It was replaced by extreme hunger. I flew off, away from my old life, hunting for a small mammal without a care except for the conundrum of how the meat was going to taste without any mayo.
It was the fourth day of the fourth month
Four years short from the disco edge
That day is your birthday, my hey day
My soldier's D Day, hanging on a ledge
And in that day I swore I'd make you love me
Shy as I was to invent the process
You saw me and I saw you and on we looked
Then you turned and denied my meek prowess
Now I have turned my fourth year
Before I complete the whole sixty
With the power to light you birthday's candle
And make you love me a plenty
I'll sow the seeds of love in your heart
They'll grow for you to see me as you should
The one heart that wanted you
The one you said, with a look, was no good
But as I plant more of them in you
They seems to sprout into some unnatural form
You see me in your dreams, you know I'm there
Yet you prefer fire and brimstone to paradise as norm
Now I pull at everything I have with might
I won't scare you, force you, and want to hear your words
Yet I more I reach you from within
The more your mute angry words remain shriller to be heard
Now I have the power, and you have none
Now I can make you mine, my presence you can't shun
You're in my heart and that can't be undone
Am I in yours? Powerful, still an answer that doesn't come
On a fourth day of a fourth cruelest month
You were born to remind me that I live
With the Power of Love, and though omnipotent,
My best choice is not with the love I'll take
But the love I hope one day you're willing to give.
The Great Liberal Matriarchy Honky Tonk
“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.” - Abraham Lincoln
I dedicate this diddy to honest Abe, whose moral compass may have leaned a tad closer to due north than mine. As you read, I urge you to sing aloud in the style of a knee-slappin' Honky Tonk tune. If you'd like to hear me humiliate myself, you can listen to me singing it in my bathroom here: https://voicespice.com/Player.aspx?c=p&h=37B44670&j=373839
If I woke up one day omnipotent
I'd smile at the good fortune sent
I'd end hunger n' cure all disease
And o'course say no more poverty
But when all the major work was done
That's when I'd get to having fun
I'd take a swig to steal my nerves
And give you just what you deserveeeeee!
I'd strap Ted Cruz to my own dining chair
And give him what I thought was fair
Peel back every single finger nail
Say he's spendin' all his life in jail
He'll only get one meal a day
And every bite turns someone gay
Then when he tries to rest his head
We'll read'm anti-racist books insteadddddd
I'd put some dynamite in Mt. Rushmore
Blow it up and watch the pieces soar
The air would fill with stone and dust
And I'd replace it with who we must
Ruth Bader Ginsburg, HRC
Justice Jackson, Gaga and Queen B
Angie Davis and Mother Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Plus all three members of TLC (Why not?!)
We'd start the government straight from scratch
Only women in this brand new batch
Of leaders who know how to lead
With consensus and humility
And any shouting of #notallmen
Will land you in the lions' den
Is this a figure a' speech or real?
I'll let my emotions take the wheel
'Cause ain't that what ladies do best
I'll just have to get it off my chesttttttttt (Eyes up here, honey!)
And we'd try more old Republicans
With crimes against Americans
Send McConnell to live with his own kind
On a turtle reserve oh so fine
But first we'd make him watch TV
Only hours upon hours of Broad City
'Til his cold, dead heart was filled with rage
Then we'd slap his chins and throw him in his cageeeeeeeee (Were they only okay for kids?!)
But we can't forget dear Lindsey Graham
And Brett Cavanaugh, our boofin' man
Since they're cool with rape and sex assault
And nothing's ever been their fault
We'd let the women decide their fates
To chop or chemically castrate
And force Lindsey to show his special mooooooooooles
Just kiddin' - wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole
But don't you for one minute think
That we'd forget women who stink
'Cus there's right wing ladies 'round
Marjorie Taylor Green and Blackburn take the crown
Since they wear their internalized misgoyny
Like a badge of honor on their sleeves
We'll employ them at Planned Parenthood
Until they've changed their tunes for goooooooooood
I know this song did not have a bridge
But I'm God now, so it's my prerogative
And before I enact my incel ban
I'll give the remaining highlights of my master plaaaaannnnn
I'd end police brutality
Find all stray pets a family
Make the temp forever seventy
And make college tuition free
End women's clothes size discrepancieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees
And keep Andrew Garfield just for me
(Yeehaw! Spiderman's mine!)
the untamed things
Did she really hear a woman's cry?
She shivers and quickly steps out of the bathtub, wrapping her body in a big, deep purple towel and resting her hands against the creamy sink. What the hell was that? She questions into the empty space around her, eyes falling to her reflection. She looked scared and confused, terrified of everything that seemed to be happening in the last few days.
Well, whatever it was today, it went away, though Mel didn't seem to be even half as scared as she was but looking anxious, fingers curling in and out. She sent her a few weary stares, but eventually, Mel just shook it off, telling her not to worry too much and that all will be well. She took the advice as best as she could, yet the feeling stayed with her for many hours, the memory of it still lingering deep under the skin. What was she to do? What if something worse happened?
What if she hurt someone?
Her nerves start to pick up, hands holding the sink tighter, muscles straining, panic overtaking her and causing the blood to almost freeze in her veins, attacking the deepest structure of her bones. And without even a second break, the lights above her head begins to blink, making those snapping, sickening sounds again. It makes her flinch with eyes shutting tightly, knowing better now. SHE was causing that, and it made her entire body swim in fear, feeling like she might suffocate at any moment. She shakes her head and quickly works on the breathing, trying to meditate just like Mel taught her, taking deep, steady breaths. And thankfully, after a while, the lights stop flickering, everything in the room becoming still. The only remaining evidence of life in the four walls coming from the rushed pulse of her heart, still quivering like a baby bird thrown out into the cold too fast. She exhales slowly but still trembles like a leaf.
I just need sleep, it will help. And when I wake up, it will all just be another nightmare, the morning pushing all of the shadows away. It will, it will, it will. She closes her eyes tight shut again and chants like a stubborn little girl, then almost runs out of the bathroom and into her temporary bed on the second floor. It will, it will, it will. It has to. Please, please, please.
Just make it stop already.
Body trembles as she curls into a tight ball, warm flannel sheets covering her as if in a carefully made nest, an illusory symbol of safety for the frail little bird made of a softly painted, night-colored soul. No longer a brave raven, but barely a black robin lost in the everlasting Winter's night, so far away from the sun.
Nothing of Consequence
I wake up to the sound of trees falling. I hear I-love-yous and I know your blood. Crimson and siphoned through tissue, mostly unseen. I feel the strings of death that tie me to bed. No wonder you can't kill a god. Any kind of end is too quick, too kind, for something of such magnitude, such power. Everything inside me has been torn out, tossed to the corner of my room. There lies nothing of consequence: dust, toys, I hear the screams of a young boy as he runs from his father, Jenna's sweater, CDs from last week, candy wrappers, cars turn corners, racing, running, heavy breathing, hearts pounding, beating, stopping. I can make it stop
I can't sit up but I can make it stop. End. I sense it. But, they laugh and they yearn and they hurt. They live. Somehow. Who am I to strip them of their horrors? Who am I to leave them awake, with all the terror they create? The strings pull tighter and tighter and my veins, my skin, my self splits. Among the floral sheets lies a mosaic of reluctant divinity and blood.
I close my eyes.
Mother Nature meets Father Time...
I could hear the sound of the river echoing through the 4 walls that have kept me safe all this time.
I built these walls myself, sheltering and protecting me from the outside world that has long since broke my heart. No one to save me, visit me, or hurt me, but it is better this way.
I could feel my opal pendant pulsing on my chest...this has never happened before- what does it mean?
I climb my way down the ladder that leads to my bed loft, the sound of the water growing louder. I pull on my glasses and look out my invisible window (that's how I built my Space- I can look out and see the world around me but no one can see me). That's the blessing and the curse of being invisible; my greatest power yet my greatest weakness.
As I pull open the curtains all the air escapes my lungs. Standing 4 feet away from me stands a man...fishing.
Almost as if he's heard my gasps and can feel my gaze, he turns to face me and looks right into my eyes.
How can he see me?!
I have built my Space using all the magic I have ever been taught! No one has ever been able to see my 4 walls, let alone see me. So how? How can he?!
Hands shaking, I pull back the curtains and duck beneath my window. A thousand thoughts marathon through my mind, "How? Who? HOW????"
Holding onto my opal pendant it feels hotter than ever, what is happening? Next thing I know I am pulling my navy velvet cape over my shoulders- my invisibility cape- and pull my glasses back on. Fighting all the voices in my head to move my Space and leave immediately, I walk to my front door.
As I take my first breath in minutes, I open my door and take my first steps out- out to the outside world. The world I swore off after I mastered my Cosmic Power. The world that put me in these 4 walls.
Immediately I am greeted by the warm bright sun. Ahh, how I've so missed this.
As I turn to walk towards the river, I see the man out of the corner of my eye. He's moved down further on the rocky ledge with 2 chairs sitting beside him. Again, as if he can feel my eyes on him, he half turns to face me.
He let's out a long slow whistle.
"It's about time you made it. Now how much longer are you going to keep me waiting? The Sun is getting hot and looking at you in that cape is making me sweat".