Crash Landing

 Capt'n Fiddler's Prosthetic Leg

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Floating up & down, floating all around

A floating nightmare unable to hit ground

I see Kabul, I see Herat

The parachute an eternal tea-party hat

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Down below in Pluckame I see

The last Taliban setting fire to the voting shed

I loosen my artificial leg, it falls free

Like a smart bomb it hits him in the head

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This vortex of wind is exasperating me

I shrug, embrace Afghaneeland reality

Dozing off with one leg left a dangle

I become a banner of star spangle

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Sunrise sunset ticktocks by again & again

Dehydration comes along, hyperventilation too

Pretty soon I’m twirling with a crazy-boy grin

& a palpitating heart tells me I’m about thru

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Then an arrow sticks into the heel of my one & only boot

Tied to the arrow is a very long string

This string gets taut as someone hauls me down

My last leg breaks when I slide across the ground

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Mine is now a sorry plight

Without flight & without fight

Yours truly blacks out

& without light

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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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The Coma

  by Rawclyde

  !

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 

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Text / Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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The 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

The 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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Rug Rats

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by Rawclyde!

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The brave people of Pluckame

Witness a convulsion of miracles in their village

In the wake of ex-Taliban Habibullah’s marriage to

Col. Sheena Johnson, errant U.S. Army

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Habibullah’s resplendent wife via her inner ear is the recipient

Of the whispered guidance from afar of Saint Joan of Arizona

The reincarnation of Saint Joan of Arc

Whose trip from Mars to Earth is a tale in which we will not indulge here

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Kamdesh Village

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I guess the exit of the U.S. Army out of Nuristan Province

And the mysterious return of the legendary colonel

Have expanded the probabilities of divine intervention

So that miracles occur one after another in Pluckame now

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Such as the crash landing of yours truly

Capt’n Chuck Fiddler, retired U.S. Army

An artificial limb gone astray & my last leg broken

I lay in a coma and, alas, alive

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In the corner of a back room in the humble home of the happy couple

Lay I in prostrate idiocy & miraculous survival & the ceaseless sacrifice

Of Habibullah’s cousin the unfathomable Mamoodia

Without her deft manipulations I would have died a long time ago

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640x481_19838_Yue_2d_fantasy_girl_woman_archer_picture_image_digital_art

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Lying in a seemingly endless coma I have managed to penetrate

The innermost laboratories of my dumb-ass brain to such a degree that

I have figured out how to miniaturize on a tiny magic carpet & fly

in & out of my left nostril to explore the doings of this household

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Of course,  flying around in such a remarkable state amongst the

Brothers, sisters, parents, grand parents, aunts, lost uncles, dug-up ancestors &

Other popping in & out neighborhood orphans of Habibullah’s household

I couldn’t help but get discovered by ~ rug rats!

~

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Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

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archer art

http://digital-art-gallery.com/picture/gallery/archer

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text

Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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Afloat Low Afloat High

bubble

Ollie & his rambunctious pals

Chase me around the house

They holler “Look out!” to all the gals

And step on an unfortunate mouse

varla

With jar in hand & gleam in eye

Ollie chases a tiny man piloting a speck of lint

I on my flying rug darting low & high

Escape up the nostril of myself in a coma & a leg splint

15L-Flying-Carpet

Meantime the election of the president never ends

It goes on & on as rogues & soldiers fight & die

Homes are ruined, masses flee, the border guard grins

And bargains ruthlessly for fees low & high

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Pluckame, oh Pluckame, where do thee roam

In this Afghaneeland bubble made of fantasy foam

Village floating low, oh village floating high

In the cloudy tumultuous Afghanistan sky

?

bubble

Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

~

Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

Rawclyde!

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Afloat Above Afghanistan

Shakara Ledard

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“What’s going on?” says Mamoodia, her miracle belly

Quivering charmfully in a cold morning breeze

Her belly button puckering up & alert for a clue to today’s events

“We seem to be in a bubble floating in the sky”

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Sheena grimaces & she surmises, “Fiddler’s doing”

She & I know each other like 2 buds on the same bush

Mamoodia, my savior, replies to Sheena, my other savior

“Uncle Chucky’s coma has him, & us too, soaring”

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bhutto_obit_1227

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Sheena shakes her head scornfully

The two half-naked women stand on the mountain ridge

Well away from Pluckame, the Afghan village

Which is totally isolated now in Capt’n Chuck Fiddler’s Sufi Bubble

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GoddessDanceW

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Which is just as well because women like this

Would not get along too well in war-torn Afghanistan proper

The whole mountain ridge is in a bubble now

Floating across the pale blue above Afghanistan!

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MFP-SS12_9

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On my tiny magic carpet I twirl like an insect

Around my two favorite ladies of the universe

Then return to my prone comatose body

Entering thru the wide-open corridor of my left nostril…

~

Fiddler's Magic Carpet

Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

Rawclyde!

~

Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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Sufi Arrows From Above

2d_woman_archer

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Endless subterfuge becomes entwined in the Afghan run-off election

The Karzai government fires half the election committee

Replaces them with ballot-box-stuffing secret agents

Front-runner Abdullah Abdullah begins a protest movement

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Ballot-box-stuffing secret agents?

Col. Sheena Johnson & her side-kick Mysterious Mamoodia

Two archers extraordinaire take articulate aim

From Capt’n Fiddler’s Sufi Bubble floating above Afghanistan

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Hafiz Qari and Yousef Ahmadi

Stuff ballot boxes merrily in a tiny village

Lost in the outermost dusty districts of Afghanistan

In a village of 40 people 4000 votes for the runner-up materialize

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Thunk!  Yousef’s eyes pop out

He’s got a sudden headache, a split-second later is knocked out

An arrow stuck in the top of his head

Special delivery from Mahmoodia of Pluckame

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Capt’n Chuck Fiddler’s Afghaneeland Sufi Bubble

Takes extraordinary strides across Afghanistan’s pale blue

Arrows rain-down on ballot-box stuffers, they’re all knocked out

& a big bubble of miracle heads-out over the sea

~

Can an impossible bubble like this make a difference?

Maybe in a head or two somewhere & that is all

God only knows how the ripples from one pebble thrown in a pond

Spread & spread across the universe!

~

Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

Rawclyde

!

(Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2014)

A Flying Booger

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by Rawclyde!

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“Why do you look so close, so long

At this twilight sleeper’s face?” asks Mamoodia

Of Ollie who sits forever on my chest & peers

Up the nose of my unmoving physical self

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“Because,” says little Ollie to his most beautiful cousin

“A tiny man on a magic carpet flies in & out

The sleeper’s crooked nose & I wanna know where he goes

So I can catch him & keep him in a jar”

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Meanwhile below the floating Afghaneeland bubble

In the bubble-blowing war-torn land of Afghanistan

Those Afghans with Sufi arrows stuck in the tops of their heads

Wonder why they cannot remove the protruding feathered sticks

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“Oh Ollie,” says Mamoodia to her little curious cousin

“Why must you imprison in a jar

This tiny man on his tiny carpet?

Why not let him be, flying around happy & free?”

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Little Ollie looks up at bedazzling Mamoodia

Her naked navel nibbles at his little-boy eyes ’til

His soul is a bowl of pudding in Mamoodia’s hands

& Ollie cries out, “he is a flying booger!”

~

Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

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Order From Col. Sheena Johnson

651433-sheena1b

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by Rawclyde!

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The legendary Col. Sheena Johnson, errant U.S. Army

Notes after some observation & navigatory calculation

That Capt’n Chuck Fiddler’s Afghaneeland Sufi Bubble

Is floating over Murrieta, California, U.S.A.

~

The despicably beautiful colonel also notes

She is entrapped inside this orb

Manufactured out of unreal soap from the captain’s mind

But she is of higher rank & can issue orders thusly

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However neither her or he is officially of the U.S. Army now

Each in actuality is a free moral agent of world reality now

But then again once a soldier always a soldier

So Capt’n Fiddler, although retired, will take an order

(From the devastatingly beautiful colonel)

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She stands over the comatose body of the captain

Lain so wounded on the mat in a back room of her house

In the village of Pluckame on the Nuristan Province mountain ridge

Enclosed inside Fiddler’s impossible bubble

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Complication on top of complication has arisen

How can she issue an order to one in a coma?

Well, she simply verbalizes outloud, “Capt’n, blow this bubble back

To Afghanistan or I’ll cut off your balls.”

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Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

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The Commander

my commander Lords it over me

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by Rawclyde!

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Out of the watery depths of a deep coma I emerge

Upon opening my eyes I see my commander Lording it over me

Her latest order having just left the perturbing blossom of her delectable lips

Punctuated with a cutting threat that is irresistible

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However, I am focused on my current mission like a hound chasing a rodent

And accordingly reply, “Colonel, we’re presently in position

 To wreck havoc upon short-sighted ignorant mortals

Who taint the reputation of the country to which we are devoted”

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“Be more specific & brief,” says Col. Sheena Johnson

So Capt’n Chuck Fiddler, yours truly, spits it out

“Thousands of refugee children have crossed the U.S./Mexican border &

U.S. citizens are protesting in Murrieta, California”

~

“And you want Mamoodia & I to Sufi the protestors”

Adds the colonel knowingly.  She smiles.  I love her.

“And after we do this you will take us back to Afghanistan”

Her eyes are ice

~

other episodes:

Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

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