Pvt. Ghani Gandhara’s Hymn Hope

by Rawclyde!

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Haji Mujadooti an elder of Pluckame

Sits in a circle of cross-legged old ones on the floor of

Pluckame’s recently restored domed mosque

He wonders, “What now?”

~

~

The elders lackadaisically discuss

The presence of foreigners in their village

Fatalistically & realistically decide nothing

‘Cause nothing is up to them anymore

~

~

 That is, nothing is up to them except

The fate of the entire nation of Afghanistan applauding below

So impressed with this bubble hovering above their heads

Afghans near & far can’t stop clapping & hooting at it

~

~

Haji Mujadooti excuses himself, totters to his feet

Escapes up a zig-zag mountain-ridge trail, rests momentarily

Peers outside the bubble inside which his village consistently triumphs

He peers down thru the bubble at a real borderlands fight

~

~

Bullets pummel & dent the helmets of ducking ANA soldiers

40 Afghans hold their own against 1,000 Taliban wanna-be’s

Wanna-be men, wanna-be angels, wanna-be dead

The soldiers matter-of-factly load, aim, fire!

~

~

But Pvt. Ghani Gandhara has gotten shot in the gut

Blood is the river of no return

The ANA private rapidly loses corpuscles, strength, faith

Old Haji above beams him some hymn hope…

~

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Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

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Col. Sheena Johnson & The Ants

   by Rawclyde!

Thousands of ants

Tumble across the raggedy ground

At the feet of Col. Sheena Johnson

& her faithful hubby Habibullah

~

The couple sit cross-legged honing arrowheads of Sufi bliss

In front of the commander’s imported Native American teepee

“I’ve never seen a horde of ants like this,” says ex-Talib Habibullah

“I wonder where they are going?”

~

Elder Haji Mujadooti having trudged up the mountain-ridge trail

Stands out of breath amidst the horde of ants, tries to say something

He slaps his pants frantically, falls down, rolls around spastically

Thus disrupting the peaceful scene with idiotic old-man antics

~

Covered head to toe with angry biting ants

He heroically stands up & despite the pain he is suffering

Says to Habibulla’s infidel wife,  “Do something, Sheena!

Our courageous Afghan soldiers are dying below!”

~

~

Ahhh!

The commander knows Afghanistan

She knows Taliban & she knows ants too

She arises

~

The empress of the Afghaneeland village of Pluckame

Pulls Haji Mujadooti out of the jam in which he stands

“Darling husband, please tend to this poor wise man”

Habibullah smiles, arises & does as bidden

~

Barefoot, Sheena steps into the rapidly moving horde of angry ants

Not one lousy insect crawls onto one toe of the formidable goddess

She stands erect as the Rock of Gibraltar & prays to St. Joan of Arizona

Who in a distant land relays the message to heaven

~

And by God, Sheena’s Sufi bow materializes in her held out hand

Sufi armor crackles sparsely here & there on her outrageously perfect body

She picks up a freshly cut & carved & honed world-peace arrow

Fits it to the bow string, aims, shuts her eyes, let’s it go

~

The cosmic forces of the universe gather upon the arrowhead point

Thrust forward into the oblivion of every Taliban brain below

Capt’n Chuck Fiddler’s Afghaneeland Sufi Bubble

& divine revelations explode!!! 

~

Suddenly beyond anybody’s wildest expectation

There are no more Taliban in the tumultuous nation of Afghanistan

The insurgents have transformed into the silliest looking little ants ever seen

All carrying rifles tinier than toothpicks

~

Pvt. Ghani Gandhara gut-shot and breathing his last breath

Picks up one of these purple insects on the end of his thumb & smiles

The Afghan National Army defending the nation’s new democracy shall prevail

Pvt. Gandhara leaps beyond the veil… 

~

Text / Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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Col. Sheena Johnson at the helm of

Capt’n Chuck Fiddler’s Afghaneeland Sufi Bubble

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Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

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Sheena’s Teepee

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by Rawclyde!

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Col. Sheena Johnson

U.S. Army legend

Sets-up a teepee above Pluckame

High on the mountain ridge

~

Here she hones her arrowheads

& prays to St. Joan of Arizona

Her ex-Taliban husband Habibullah

Assists

~

Young enchantress Mamoodia

The other Sufi archer of Pluckame

Patrols

Her bow vibrant & arrows a quiver

~

Life in a Sufi bubble

Has it’s ups & downs

But mostly it floats

Miracles often occur

~

~

Sheena becomes so angelic

She sprouts wings

Every curve of her body

Softens

~

And Habibullah swears

He’s

Gone

To heaven 

~

Text / Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

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An 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

~

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)

~

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

That is enclosed inside Fiddler’s impossible bubble

~

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.”

~

Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

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Sufi Arrows

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

~

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

~

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

~

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

~

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)

Floating Above Afghanistan

Shakara Ledard

~

“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”

~

107391

~

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”

~

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

~

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!

~

MFP-SS12_9

~

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

~

additional reading by

Jennifer Paetsch

https://www.smashwords.com/extreader/read/358620/1/ghost-of-doors

~

Floating Low Floating 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

07lede_kamdesh.1.480

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!

~

Rug Rats

640x521_14005_Shadow_Sentinel_2d_fantasy_warhammer_elf_archer_girl_woman_picture_image_digital_art

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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

~

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

~

Kamdesh Village

~

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

~

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

~

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

~

640x481_19838_Yue_2d_fantasy_girl_woman_archer_picture_image_digital_art

~

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

~

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!

~

_65330259_img_2176-1

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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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

~

This morning while riding

In a shrunken state

Like an ant on a bread crumb

However, I was late

~

burkha

~

I was supposed to sing in

Mamoodia’s ear

Before she arose from her blankets

She’s up now without cheer

~

She peers at my somnolent form

on the mat in the corner

She is now wearing her burka

& I’m eternally the foreigner

~

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

~

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

~

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

~

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

~

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

~

DSCN5948_resize

~

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

~

Deviantart-Stock-Collection-Hijab-2014-5

Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

Text / Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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Capt’n Fiddler’s 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

~

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

~

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

~

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

~

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

~

Mine is now a sorry plight

Without flight & without fight

Yours truly blacks out

& without light

~

Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

Rawclyde!

~

(Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2014)

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A New Breed In The Village

Burka_284113450_large

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by Rawclyde!

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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

~

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

~

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

~

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

~

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…

~

image_561306132020288593710

Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

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Text / Copyright Clyde Collins 2014

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