Coma III

FlyingCarpet

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by Rawclyde!

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I love my magic carpet

I ride it every day

Now that I’m in a coma

I arrive right away

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This morning while riding

In a shrunken state

Like an ant on a bread crumb

However, I was late

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burkha

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I was supposed to sing in

Mamoodia’s ear

Before she arose from her blankets

She’s up now without cheer

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She peers at my somnolent form

on the mat in the corner

She is now wearing her burka

& I’m eternally the foreigner

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Sufi_by_zweeZwyy

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Lost in a maelstrom deeper & deeper

Of comatose sleep nobody can understand

Nobody but he who voyages thusly

In strange strange Afghaneeland

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Yes, lying there with plenty of time to think

He has discovered lots of things

How to do this, how to do that

& how to give Afghaneeland wings

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cosmicdance

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Being as this strange land is

Really just a bubble in mine own head

I have discovered that it is I who is in charge

As I, yes, I twilight sleep on that thin bed

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However, as I also ride my magic carpet

Here & there throughout the house

I discover my colonel

Sneaking a kiss with her ex-Taliban spouse

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celticdragon_3_by_sayara_s-d6i90ru

http://sayara-s.deviantart.com/art/CelticDragon-3-393451050

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What a reminder is this!

How can it be that I rule this bubble

When Colonel Sheena Johnson rules me?

I, Capt’n Chuck Fiddler, gots trouble

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DSCN5948_resize

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Until I figure out what to do

I’ll continue my coma, my coma true blue

Where there is trouble, comfort may be found too

Mamoodia’s arrow stuck in the heel of my shoe

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Deviantart-Stock-Collection-Hijab-2014-5

Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

Text / Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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Coma II (Taliban Brains)

Afghan lizard & bullet shells

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Crack a chunk of eggshell lying on the path

Murder is threatened with zealous wrath

The border gots holes, the mullah gots souls

Duck when ye dig-up yer leader’s secret goals

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Holier-than-thou bumpkins shout

One thousand & one Taliban sprout

A mushroom cloud flowering in the sky

Pakistan spits in Big Bo’s eye

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The pack on your back gets smaller & smaller

‘Til there’s no more to eat & nothin’s there

The enemy your mullah proposed gets taller & taller

‘Til he’s a mountain & curling clouds are his hair

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Virgins circle around after a knock on the head

They’ve got long-feathered wings & oops, you’re dead

They chirp & chirp but you never get layed

You been buffaloed by the prayers you prayed

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Grubby little Worm sails across the sea

He’s got ammo & a gun & he’s comin’ fer me

He blows me away, I’m gone now for writing this

A cloud now splattering him with piss

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Ohhh a long endless coma is such bad news

Thoughts molesting n’ all I can do is snooze

Doggerel snapping at my fingers & gnawing on my shoe

Saved on the net & done yip-yipping at you…

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Rawclyde!

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snow-leopard--afghanistan

Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II 

Text / Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

Coma

Fiddler's stray leg

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Aye, the coma long, the coma deep

The coma comatizes as in a coma I sleep

I levitate above the planet & my baboon race

I ricochet from orb to orb in outer space

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I mingle with floating souls here & there

We meander dust-like without a care

Like molecules we form little critters & moss

Get tied together with webs of dental floss

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An avalanche occurs & zillions are buried

No longer able to breath, a remnant of me is carried

Back to the Afghaneeland that I know

Dropped into a crack like a flake of snow

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I hide out here for centuries without one melt

On a mountain ridge memorizing how it felt

To be alive like a snow leopard a sprint

Of the future a distant rumbling is one hint…

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Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

Rawclyde!

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Text / Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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