dancing

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episode 21

Taliban Focus

by rawclyde

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The woman in the yellow polka-dot burka

Comes back with a pot full of sweet tea

As Taliban bullets whistle & sing all around & always miss

The Taliban are so captivated they can’t hit her

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She is so obviously good lookin’ under that burka

Such beauty glorifies the entire world

Makes it livable for humankind

And drives Taliban outta their mind

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Ten thousand bullets miss the two Afghan soldiers too

Cuz’ they are her Afghaneeland friends

The three of them lounge on the blanket in the shade

And drink their tea

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As the three musketeers partake

A moaning & a groaning grows louder & louder in the sky

Two A-10 Warthog aeroplanes approach

Looking for Taliban & find them

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Behind the pile of boulders

The Warthogs find ten thousand of the culprits

And blast them into bloody pulp

While Col. Sheena Johnson & the Afghan soldiers sip their tea

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Afghaneeland Adventure Series

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text copyright clyde collins 2015

a new breed in the village

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Deception & camouflage & secret looks

Secret codes & secret trails to secret nooks

The glint of a knife & someone suddenly gone

Someone trusted suddenly faking a yawn

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The U.S. Army colonel & her ex-Taliban spouse

Sneeking in & out of your very own house

Growing crooked, growing mean

A sudden realization that you’re a human being

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Looking for God, looking for a friendly nod

Cleaning the dead enemy’s weapon with oil & rod

Not getting too rude while cooking some food

Trying to get some sleep but only able to brood

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Then ye notice the bow, look close at an arrow

Accidentally shoot a poor innocent sparrow

Get the Goddess from God knows where

To finally see you & share

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Some of her knowledge, some of her skill

Secret lessons, a miracle, a talent to kill

Hide like a gloomy secret agent everything that you are

An infinitely shining rapidly rising morning star

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by Rawclyde!

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Afghaneeland Adventure Series

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text copyright clyde collins 2015

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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

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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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