Killer Girls and Flesh Eating Zombies

My brain feels like it has a lava lamp inside

The glass has a long crack going across the front

I think it’s time to rotate the winter Mucha

Slide up the spring beauty with her berries and birds

Tis the season for old fashioned double features

Killer girls and flesh eating zombies will rule this year

Milking the eternal weaknesses for all they are worth

The pole humping, lap dancing nemesis at play

I'll drop some winter pounds and grow a new tanned skin

Feed my birdies and then the melodies will come

Make my life sound thrilling with my red ukulele

While I pour down grey geese and nibble olives

I’ll collect pie birds and light incense each day

While praying for a zoftig desperate housewife

Practice my innocent pagan rituals

And shake off my past Christian guilt like a wet dog

Hang Wicca twig men in the lush green forests

And read about the Peloponnesian war years

Polish my ceramic frogs for the porch display

Lock all my greed and ambition in my sea chest

Gripping my buckhorns on my hog for back relief

I'll turn fifty after a four twenty bong hit

Dropping in just to ask questions and make one think

Then listen to baseball while hammering fine nails

Grow some fat tomatoes in hanging flower pots

And number my candles with secret  hieroglyphs

Yes, my head will crack open like a rotten egg

Then the healing will begin, and the moon will smile

© Copyrights G. Jones 2008

Author's Note: The Path to Consciousness Series

Just Live It

To Life
Don't be asking me that Baby!
What’s the reason for life? Not a clue!
Come from me, you, or the blonde on the tube?

She wants material to accumulate
Diamonds, soccer babies, big houses
Social climbs, and trips to Cancun.
And a life support system for a wallet!

He wants fast cars, toys of every kind

Power and money for nothing

And a big chested woman that don’t ask questions

It doesn't matter if she as fake as Barbie!

What a bunch of monkey brains!

Preachers say life is to temper your soul
Trouble is, which preacher
Muslim, Catholic, Baptist, or Buddhist?
They all talking like they know
What if they wrong?
Then what is the choir gonna sing?

Professors say for knowledge to gain
What knowledge you mean man?
Ain't no one true knowledge bout anything.
You ivory tower sitting fools!

No, forget the question and the reason baby
You a figment of the imagination
of some sucker that never held a spoon.

Just live it.

@ Copyrights  G. Jones 2012

The World of Nobody Cares

Lately, the world has become twisted

I’ve plainly been chopped off at the knees

At least in my battered mind it seems

My arrogance is being tested

For me, real torture is idleness

The act of just treading in one place

In an annoyingly idle state

A lesson I’m being forced to hear

In each lifetime there is a purpose

It’s increasingly becoming clear

To be patient is my vocation

 Accepting a mundane existence

All my life, I had been a charger

An Alpha, the overachiever

Had to be my way or the highway

No one was more important than me

Now I’m not important, just a shmuck

Nothing special, just ordinary

 Below average and surviving

  I’m in the world of nobody cares

Surely, this must be what it is like

To live as a witness protected

Having to maintain a low profile

Nondescript, the submissive hired help

Sometimes, it is rather comforting

Just living from day to day, boring

Until the bright lights go out for good

For what did it all serve anyway?

Here in the world of nobody cares

© Copyrights G. Jones 2008

Cotton Stomper

Cotton Stomper

The stars sparkle through red painted aluminum mesh

The walls of my room

A soft constant rain of cotton falls upon my head

I watch the bright sky

The organic smell of the earth and the diesel fumes

Permeates the air

A cool breeze tickles the sweat beads upon my forehead

Reminds me to rise

On wobbly feet, I begin to stomp, up and down

Within the snowy chamber

As I do my work, singing, "I’m a cotton stomper,

That is what I be!”

Falling back to rest, I continue to ponder

What tomorrow brings

© Copyrights G. Jones 2008


When I was in my early teens, living with my grandfather in Alabama. On hot summer nights, with a touch of breeze, I would volunteer to ride inside the cotton picker basket and tramp down the cotton.

Anwsering the Serpent's Call

The serpent called her

And as if swans carried her light airy behind

She ran through the cooling blue vines of the garden

Into a jungle that puffed magenta steam clouds

Circumventing cawing crowds of warning green fowl

She wasn’t startled by the beast’s bright yellow face

Nor his elongated serpentine demeanor

In fact she formed a one-woman army of souls

That would one day inhabit her entire planet

She listened to his persuading elocution

And dreamed to appropriate her ghostly master

He entwined and penetrated her quiescent mind

Persuading and enticing with promised power

She became the trained chimpanzee of the tempter

The first of millions that would soon go after her

Like a hungry macaque, she climbed the great tree

In search of her creator’s forbidden construct

 Reaching the golden fruited orb with heated breath

She plucked it without hesitation or regret

Racing through a luscious sea of green and amethyst

She finds her sleeping mate beneath a giant mushroom

She awakens him with an erotic purring

Her tantalizing womanhood nude for his taste

Drunken from her enveloping draining pleasure

He finally accepts her golden fruited prize

  

As they greedily gnawed the garden slowly died

And the master revoked their immortality

Clothed with wilting turquoise leaves to cover new guilt

They fled their luscious home for the valley of death

Never to return

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Of course, this is a fairytale designed to discourage early Hebrews not to be tempted by the Pagan religion popular at the time that worshiped the reptilian God, Seth. Though, it doomed women for the ages as the instigators for the committing of the original “sin”, it was just an extra bonus for the patriarchic leaders of the time.