black dog


I am always with you though often you choose not to see me.
Some days I hide in shadows but I’m always close.
Did you know that black dogs are the least adopted from shelters?
They say it’s because our features are not as prevalent…My belief? – That ancient memory inside the human brain knows me well.
I wish you no harm, it’s the human way to harm oneself ..not mine. I will be here..always to guide you when the time comes.

I smile as the black dog walks alongside me through the park.
It was a beautiful day.




I luckily stumbled on to THIS blog which offers a 100 word challenge for grown ups…I’m not sure if I’ve grown up but I’m not a teenager and the prompt was irresistable.

Here’s what Julia (the sites owner) offered….

I’m late in posting this week’s challenge but I’m going to use something in the news this morning. I’m sure you will all have heard of Robin Williams and maybe watched some of his films. For me, he was a talented actor who occasionally couldn’t change the persona he had created early in his career. His suicide is very sad but understandable I think as there was often a manic side to his performances.

The prompt for this week is:

…the black dog walks alongside me…

REMOTE : remotus : removēre




Waking with an electric zap,  he stumbled from bed.
What freaking remote location did they send him to?
Spotting a television he fumbled through the nightstand for the remote.
“Where the hell am I? Where’s the remote”? He demanded kicking his roommates bed.
“Rehab, and it’s mine”.
Laughed the man.






Walking into the “ambush” their genetic memory, whatever it was that set them apart from humans, twitched electric.

To no avail, the cartoonish figures tried to break them. Shearing, grinding, squeezing. Standard soul crushing practices exhausted.

All means by which humans control and manipulate their environment couldn’t extinguish their ancient bond..

At times, the sparkle in one eye would dim.Succumbing to the evil of the human realm.
A glance to the others eye, healed all doubt.
The electric iris—the souls window—  healed instantly.

Their tools of intelligence transcended this place.

No match for the tools living on Earth.



Written for The M3 Blog and Flash-In-The-Pan.


“Learning to love life by living through loss and mistakes
Lessons learned then gradually surfacing
Letting go, stripping naked to scream
I am not perfect, nor do I strive to be
I am alive in this world of face-first falls and public breakdowns
I’m a retarded, disfigured clown
Dying to be heard for the simple art of letting this heavy wall finally fall
I’m an equal being of no race or color
A hallucination if you will
Sneaking into the lives of strangers and letting them fall apart
To a new rhythm, just to feel better”



The Rage of Achilles

The Rage of Achilles (Photo credit: Wikipedia)



“It takes one to know one”.
-Truth in a simplistic childhood insult.

Hurling full force.
Hates darkest wishes

…beaded water washed away.

The  Mad evolved.
Water…flowing...the gentle way …as Bruce Lee once shared.

Beings abolishing Mutually Assured Destruction.

Tasting gratitude.

Insight, Love, Anarchy and Peace.

Taken on the chin… creations maddest embraced ..
The universal mind of “US”…flowed in compassion ocean.

…nestled in,

dreary days,

charred hearts.

Hands outstretched…




Written For TheM3Blog and Flash-In-The-Pan

“If you try to get rid of fear and anger without knowing their meaning, they will grow stronger and return.”
― Deepak Chopra

“ليس الشديد بالصرعة؛ إنما الشديد الذي يملك نفسه عند الغضب
The strong person is not the good wrestler. Rather,the strong person is the one who controls himself when he is angry.
(Sahih al-Bukhari, Book 73, #135)”
― Anonymous

Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.” ― Mark Twain

“He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect for more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.”
— Bob Marley


“Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.”
— Apple Inc.

“Usually when people are sad, they don’t do anything. They just cry over their condition. But when they get angry, they bring about a change.”
― Malcolm X



Scared child

Scared child (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


Taphe looked paralyzed..

..or at least mentally deficient,

(Truths lay in opposites).

Her hypermnesic Mind

saw the

“Too Real”.

A vivid  unearthly feel. 

Was Kako physically present,

(Or an eidetic image)?

Imprinted energy.

Lingering memory.. 

Maybe they were right.

She was paralyzed.

…With Fear…

…of touching him…

…speaking his name aloud…

…of  looking into…

history’s ocean –

–  in his eyes.

Their history.


an unwritten book,

last stanza missing,

mystery unsolved.

 An intense fear of failure .

At least, she lived up to both their names.

Being buried alive

was heaven 

compared against


he was


Written For TheM3Blog and Flash-In-The-Pan




Once again

she won the“Stevens-Johnson Syndrome” lottery.

Burned from inside out.

Organs first.





Then skin.

Running fingers over

a Crazed, fleshy mess.

 Braille of a deadly condition.

Feeling burning words,

 answers coded in fire.

Then again her brain was burning.


Written for TheM3Blog and Flash-In-The-Pan


Classic garden bench

Classic garden bench (Photo credit: Wikipedia)










The old man sat alone on a park bench.
Eye’s reflecting the galaxies most brilliant star.
Four days passed,
..or four-hundred.


She couldn’t remember.
Recalling nothing but walking past him for…
an eternity.
Silently noticing him daily.
Never noting, his smile widening, brightening, as she neared.


As a statue holding the same posture.


Glowing… as if he knew the answer to all questions posed throughout time.


She journeyed towards …the place.
Was she Delusional or was he?




Planning words never to be spoken.
“Sophia” ?


The old man lit up brighter than ever.


They burst into light disappearing forever.









Written for TheM3Blog and Flash-In-The-Pan





Beauty In The Chaos-Erraticus-Erratic

The thoracic and right lymphatic ducts.

The thoracic and right lymphatic ducts. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)



A lymphatic system in a state of chaos.

 Both ecstatic for her to start the new medication.

The few weeks of side effects well worth years of life  together.

Driving optimistically ...the universe became erratic…as is life’s nature.

A climactic crash.

Aquatic swirls.

Colored metals smashed together.


Red,Blue and Grey.

Shocked, bruised, bloodied with broken limbs.

They looked into each others souls..


There is beauty in the chaos.





Written for TheM3Blog and Flash-In-The-Pan




Written for TheM3Blog and Flash-In-The-Pan


Sitting in silence. Eyes scanning words-his words- .


“State Of The Union Address”.

He knew he was important. The name was some sort of title. Beyond that, everything was askew.

Detrimental words. Filled with fear and doom. What had he gotten himself-all these people who called him “Mr. President“- in to?

Himself, a peaceful being. Those words could not have come from his mind –his soul-.

Mouth opened, failing to produce “speech”-consonants, vowels-.

An idea –an answer-occured.

Whoever he was yesterday, power-hungry,  full of anger, was gone.

Walking towards the fireplace he lit the former selves words aflame.

An hour of feverishly written words. Scrawling “State Of The Union Address” on the page. Signing  with initials “C.S.”, he rose from his desk.

Water filled eyes stared into  a mirror…reflecting back skin –bioluminescent skin -.

His job here was done.

Taking his egress, eyes closed.



George Washington's First State of the Union A...

George Washington’s First State of the Union Address (Photo credit: Wikipedia)





Sojourning from “the condition”.

Collapsing on  silky soft sand, staring starward.

Stars doubling on themselves, reflecting his fears nature.

All was well, even knowing his RETURN was a “feared event”.

All need known was between the universe and himself.





giving Orion a wink, heading towards home.


This is one of many material universes, Brahma...

This is one of many material universes, Brahmandas, which expand from Mahavishnu when He breathes. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Written for TheM3Blog and Flash-In-The-Pan