converging

[mnaz]

so you favor duality, the cherubim.
let them dry out like opinions and clarity.

meanwhile the atomic bomb dropped.
meanwhile those responsible rant like a felon.
i know a great god will come from the sky.
hemingway versus the mushroom cloud.
he just stood there and ordered rum.

we sail for yonder shore past days of yore.
four score and twenty more liquid speeches.
the one who preaches teaches like peaches,
what our fighting men fought and died for,
like merle was haggard and the sky blue.

clear, the ringed rings around rings.
clear, the hungry and the warriors
clear, the vengeance in circles.
clear, the honorable and wise.

[mnaz]

this is nonsense.
you're leaving out centuries.

[mtmynd]

((psst... mnaz. you better listen to that mnaz))

[mtmynd]

((pssst... hey, mt. that was a pretty cool write mnaz put out here...))

[mnaz]

oh my...
off the deep end again, i see..

hemingway vs. the bomb. ha! interesting matchup.
i almost put mailer in there too!
i have no shame!

[the mingo]

last night there was a thunderstorm in the mountains - mnaz pulled out a cigarette as the lightning flashed and the sky crashed. He lit it and pulled smoke thru the rain soaked tobacco then released it into the howling winds, saying, in his very best Teddy Roosevelt, "I've storms of my own which you know nothing about, this is the deep end and I have no shame." mtmynd was up there too & both him & mnaz were talking back and forth to each other and to themselves like chinese hoodlum poets on their mountaintops when hemingway showed up to party with a bagful of fishbones and a keychain adorned with a used shotgun shell casing. They talked & laughed all night.

[mtmynd]

el mingo : "... chinese hoodlum poets on their mountaintops when hemingway showed up to party with a bagful of fishbones and a keychain adorned with a used shotgun shell casing."

a brilliant piece of imagination, amigo, as was the whole paragraph. easily a precursor to a Brautigan-esque novelette... where do i place my order?

[mnaz]

mingo... that's perfect. beyond perfect.

Maybe they were all mumbling toward the Oracle. Or Olympus itself.. Hemingway won the jeep axle toss in the Apocalympics, all the while huffing on that missile-shaped stogie, belching out little geiger mushroom puffs. The hoodlum poets washed away, channeling the arroyos. Hemingway drank malt liquor from a gasoline jug and feasted on lightning...

[Arcadia]

hemingway versus a mushroom cloud , hey, your birthday´s near, friend!!!!!

[hester_prynne]

Good write Mnaz indeed....sometimes with your writing, I feel like I"m watching you put sustanence into your soul in order to cope with this crazy world.....many times it works for mine too....
H