why me ?

~

episode 8

Blue Burqa Destiny

~

So that’s my story & I’m stickin’ to it

Of the girl next door with whom I blew it

She’s still a colonel & I’m an old tramp

writing tall ones beside my reading lamp

~

Afghaneeland, oh Afghaneeland, we had our thrills

They come, muskets blazing, my backbone a thousand chills

But that girl, a woman now, a legend now

Has captured & carried away my soul somehow

~

So bold was she, so wild & free was she

On the saucer outta there a gift I give to thee

Aye, as from Afghaneeland we float thru the sky

Here’s a little gift in remembrance of you & I

~

Sitting nex’ me in your teeny-weeny buckskin

As we dash across the sky ‘neath God’s almighty chin

Oh Sheena, my Sheena, Col. Sheena Johnson ’til death

I’ll love you always way way beyond my final breath

~

I hand to thee a little something bought & gift-wrapped

So divine when you move all my dreams in the face get slapped

You take it, unwrap it, squirm with a questioning regard

At the blue burqa in your hands you squint so hard

~

What can I say but that the garment adds a new dimension

To your awesome display of leadershipful I-dare-not-mention

Oh goddess, I love thee like all planets a-journey

around the sun, so kneel I to adore your pure knee

~

Time passes slowly as we pass over the sea

In this U.S. Army saucer afloat lackadaisically

You sit so stiff in your new burqa next to sleepy me

I doze, I awake, you sit so still in my gift to thee

~

It covers you so completely in such a modest way

I wonder if it also stops you from having anything to say

I ask you several questions, no word or nod is your reply

The burqa falls to the floor, I let out a horrid cry

~

It appears Col. Sheena Johnson is no longer here

I sit all alone in a flying saucer I fear

Her holy war proves to be not the same as mine

Has she mystically returned to Afghaneeland like ~ like sunshine

?

text: copyright clyde collins 2015

Afghaneeland

~

thank you for bringing our goats back…

~

episode 19

Reinforcements Arrive At Pluckame

~

Two Afghan National Army representatives

Materialize out of thin air

Dressed to the max in second-hand uniforms

They are sitting on an old blanket nearby the voting shed

~

They’re soldiers now & have weapons & pay checks

They’ve been herding stray goats on their trek to the village

They impress nobody as being fierce

Laughter thunders from 1,000 Taliban hiding behind a pile of boulders

~

The 2 ANA soldiers sweating profusely in their hot uniforms

Cool down on the blanket layed-out in the shade

A hospitable woman in a burqa brings them a pot of tea & 2 cups

“Thank you for bringing our goats back to Pluckame,” says she

~

Taliban bullets whistle & ricochet everywhere

A rocket blows the roof off the village’s rebuilt mosque

One bullet pings on the helmet of one of the ANA soldiers

He smiles benignly & sips his tea

~

by

rawclyde

!

The Afghaneeland Adventure Series

(text copyright clyde collins 2014)

calling collect

~

episode 20

Interlude

by

rawclyde

!

Taliban make merry with ample ammo & bullets dance

The Afghan National Army soldier pulls a cell phone out of

One of several pouches on his chest & dials collect

The other ANA soldier grinds his teeth

~

A stray bullet ricochets around in the empty cup in his hand

Luckily the cup is made of tin, not porcelain

Then the bullet stands up on the cup’s rim & starts singing

Which adds real & deep meaning to the drama

~

Everyone is leaning closer and closer toward the cell phone

The soldier with the little thing up against the side of his head

Makes amiable conversation, smiles a lot

Puts the phone away & says to the other soldier

~

“The captain says to wait a moment”

The other soldier rolls his eyeballs skyward & twiddles his thumbs

The woman in the yellow polka-dot burqa gets up off the old blanket

And floats back to her modest dwelling to replenish the tea pot

~

“What color were her eyes?”

“I believe they were blue.”

“Do you suppose she is the legendary woman?”

“Well, this is Pluckame, isn’t it?”

~

Yes, anything goes in Pluckame

You never know what’s going to happen nex’

Whether it’s a vote gone awry or a bullet in your eye

The invisible village up there on the mountain ridge

~

~

Afghaneeland Adventure Series

~

text copyright clyde collins 2015

the afghaneeland epic continues !

Col. Sheena Johnson, U.S. Army

~

episode 23

Capt’n Fiddler Parachutes Into Pluckame

~

Ahhhhhhh, catapulting soaring roaring glory!

The boldness, the common sense of the U.S. Secretary of Defense!

Chuck Hagel has sold the entire U.S. Air Force’s A-10 Warthog Fleet

To the Afghan National Army for one dollar!

~

With a lot of training & expensive accoutrements

Now the ANA gots its own aging, rattling, deadly air-support

This Chuck is proud of that Chuck

For doing the right Chuck Chuck thing!

~

I am Capt’n Chuck Fiddler of the U.S. Army

Pulling my ripcord over the Nuristan Province of

Not Afghanistan, but Afghaneeland

A bubble full of wishful thinking inside my mind

~

A tiny dumb-ass bubble that refuses to pop

But that floats like a prayer in the ethereal reaches

Of a poor old soldier’s mind, so yes

I am parachuting out of a Warthog aeroplane above Pluckame!

~

Inside this strange bubble that will not stop

I’ve been training Afghan soldiers to fly

Now like a rain drop I am about to plop

At the feet of Col. Sheena Johnson

~

I shall serve wherever my empress be

Be it Afghanistan & be it free

So I float from above

To back the colonel’s love!

~

Yes, I float & whirl & twirl

Caught in a vortex of air swirling grand

Afghaneeland’s atmosphere gots a mind of its own

It looks like I’ll never land!!!

~

rawclyde

!

Afghaneeland Adventure Series

text copyright clyde collins 2015

Tulsi

for u.s. president

~

Behold

Laka

Standing

On

The

 Mountain

~

     With eyes closed he grew numb under the cold shower in the TAMC barracks, and pretended he was standing under an icy waterfall in the mountains.  The hot water was not working this Saturday morning ~ again.

     With a towel tied around his waist he was stepping across the hallway to his cave-like room when Pvt. 1 Tom Weasel stopped him and said, “Wanna smoke a joint, Duty?”

     “No no no no,” replied PFC Donald Duty, invigorated from the cold shower.  “I don’t smoke it no mo’.”

     “Well, how you gonna be mellow if you don’t smoke it no mo’?” said Weasel.

     “I chant,” said Duty ~ and he locked himself up in his room.  He put on some clothes, opened the curtain, twirled open the window, sat down in front of a most beautiful sky and let the trade winds kiss his cheek.  Sure enough, he began to chant:

     “Ku ana ‘o Laka i ka mauna,

     Noho ana ‘o Laka i ke po ‘o oka ‘ohu.

     ‘O Laka kumu hula,

     Nana i ‘a ‘eka waokele…”

     Outside, a misty cloud white and purple upon the hilltop, gently tumbled forward.  The cloud transformed into a pretty face with depthless eyes and a supple body with graceful moves.  It was obvious ~ Laka, the hula goddess, had arrived ~ and was dancing in the sky!

     From the colorful lei hanging from her neck and tossing to and fro, there fell a flower.  It landed on the window pane in front of Duty.  “Mahalo, my beloved,” said Duty.

     He reached for the flower.  As soon as he touched it, the flower turned into a diving mask and snorkel.  Duty whispered to the suddenly clear blue sky, “Ah, I know what I’m going to do today!”

     With swimming trunks rolled up in a towel and Laka’s gift in his hand, Duty darted out of the barracks.  Sp4 Joe Honor and Sp4 John Country were about to drive away in Country’s automobile.  Duty flagged them down.

     “What’s up?” said Duty.

     “We’re going snorkeling!” replied Honor and Country in baritoned chorus.

     “Oh, can I go?  Oh, please, guys, please!”

     “Hop in,” smirked Country.

     In a cove about a half mile on the other side of Waimea Falls, located on the North Shore, the three off-duty TAMC soldiers floated around above another world ~ Fish World ~ and occasionally dove deeply into it ~ all day long.  The surface of the sea was smooth as glass and you could see forever ~ even underwater.  The many colored fishes were sassy as could be.

     Later back at the barracks, played out and cleansed of worry, Duty stepped around two MPs and a drug detection dog ~ German Shepherd type ~ in the hallway.  The dog was howling in front of Weasel’s barracks-room door.

~

https://www.tulsi2020.com

~

from

her

secret agent

bred in

DUTY WORLD

~