Tragedy at the Tower

I am just coming into the city and I can scarcely see the end of it!
I catch myself staring a few moments when a man approaches me.
“First time to Babylon, traveler?” he asks.
“Yes. I’ve traveled south to see the tower.” I say.
“Ah, truly a testament to our people’s ingenuity.”
“And, you must be hungry.” He holds up some delicious looking fruit.
“Only a few shekels….”
I pay the man and take the fruit.
“You will want to head that direction, down this road, “ he points.
“A modern marvel, it is.”

The base of the tower is very wide and round with a spiralling walkway running up the side.
It is very busy around the tower with people running to and fro with stone and tools.
A line of workers carry material up the walkway while another line returns empty-handed.
I follow the tower up with my eyes; it stretches into the clouds!
Truly, a modern marvel. I wonder if I could be employed in building this structure…

I notice that there is also a ring of gawkers, like me, watching it all.
“These people are just as interesting to watch, I think, “ a older man, next to me, comments.
“People have come from many far away places just to see this. As if they have nothing better to do…” he chortles. “I have been coming here every day just to watch.”
“And you should hear some of these conversations!”
He smiles at me: “Tower or no – people are capable of anything.”
“They certainly are wearing strange clothes.” I say as I scan the crowd.
I notice a purplish southerly looking garb when another gaze catches my own.
And I spot a pair of eyes that shine like no other.

I’m stunned. She turns away quickly but I cannot stop looking.
I find I am moving towards her, though, I cannot feel my feet. I can only feel my heart beating faster. Suddenly, she is there. She is the only one there; even the tower is gone.
“Hello.” I say.
She turns her face up to mine. “Hello.”
“My name is Balashi. What is your name?” I ask.
“Amata.”

The day passes and we talk a good many hours.
At night, that name repeats in my mind. Over and over.
“Amata, “ I say to myself. Or to the sky. Or, whomever is listening.
I stare up at the stars and wonder which one she’s looking at.
I wonder what my family would think if I brought her back home to Sippar.
I wonder what her home was like in Uruk. I will have to ask her.
I will see her again at the base of the tower tomorrow. I will see her every day.

In the morning I bring her some of the same delicious fruit.
“I thought about you all night, “ she says. “I thought about what I’d say to you.”
“As did I. And I brought you this for breakfast, “ I hold the fruit out to her.
My fingers brush against hers and I feel fire coursing up my arm.
My heart swells and nearly bursts from my chest.
I look into her eyes for a long time. I see understanding there.
I take her hands into mine. We are in love.

“I have only known you for 2 days… “ I start.
“But, I can stand here and talk to you forever, ” she finishes.
I ask about her family and about Uruk and about her childhood and future plans.
I see her eyes watering and lean in to kiss her.
But, there is a blast of thunder. The ground shakes and we are thrown down.
There is a fire in the sky above the tower and we shield our eyes.
Stone roll down the sides of the tower. Something hits me in the throat.
We are shrouded in dust and blackness followed by silence.

“Are you OK?” I ask her. We are both on the ground, dusty and bruised.
She just looks at me, confused.
“Are you OK? Can you hear me?” I take hold of her arms.
She says something, though, it sounds foreign to me.
She can see the same confusion in my eyes.
I look around me: everyone is confused and rubbing their throats.
Everyone is speaking but no one understands.
“You don’t understand what I’m saying…” I let her arms go.
She shakes her head slowly and my heart fills with sadness.
We walk our separate ways. We will never meet here again.

Posted in Alt-history, Religion | Leave a comment

My questionable and quasi-spurious contribution to the world of theology.

Divitheism, in the broadest sense, is a doctrine concerning the nature of a supreme being that is not countable by whole numbers. In a more common usage, it is the belief that more than zero deities exists, while simultaneously fewer than one deity exists ie. the number of deities which exist is between zero and one. This is differing from other religious doctrines which are commonly monotheistic (one supreme being) or polytheistic (two or more supreme beings) in nature.

History

The definition was originally conceived as an example of numerological dogmatism, which is some believe to be a fundamental component inherent to most religious orthodoxies. The concept of a God as a non-whole number is intended to demonstrate an arbitrary element within the nature of deification.

Debate

There are several classifications that are subject to debate within the divitheistic framework due to it’s inherently arbitrary nature.

Static Value-Count

Divitheism may conceive God either in a sort of fluctuating state between 0 and 1 or in a state of development from 0 to 1. The static or non-static nature of the deities value-count is not specified within the original doctrine.

Negative Value-Count

Whether a deity may exist as a value less than zero or as an imaginary value is subject to debate.

Ranged Value-Count

Whether a deity may exist as a single value or a range of values is also subject to debate.

Encompassed Value-Count

The value-count definition of a deity may be encompassing, such as where a deities count could exist as zero, one or between zero and one. This is in contrast to a non-encompassing one where the values zero and one are not included.

Knowability

Some disagree on whether the value-count is knowable or pertinent (agnostic divitheism).

Expressibility

The value-count of a deity may be expressed by various means: variables, fractions, percentages, etc. The particular expression becomes subject to debate as some view the specific orthodoxical expression as definitive in regards to a religion’s model.

Demitheist Subset

Within the divitheistic doctrine, it is possible to have whole beings (countable by a whole number) who’s constitution may be partly deific. These beings may be partly supreme or god-like but have a ‘remaining portion’ (wherein the sum would equate to a whole number) constituted by other beings ie. demigods (half-man/half-God).

Posted in Religion | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Pinnacle

Blue Curiosity

Giant four-legged beasts, armored in plates of bones, lumbered through murky waters. Tiny winged curiosities, spindly and multi-colored, buzzed about their backs. Non-moving creatures, greenish and soft, some with bright flowers, reached for the system’s star. And unseen and nearly undetectable were the minutest of blobs, carrying just enough genetic material.

And so was life teeming across the young, watery planet. From the slopes of valleys to the tips of mountains. Through the air and across the vast panthalassic sea there were species of all types. Earth is a bright blue marble; a curious sphere of liquid and dirt, crawling with creatures.

And as with curious things comes visitation by a curious folk. An intelligent folk, armored in vessels of metal, lumber about the stars: searching, studying. They take notice of Earth and the unique reflective properties of such a planet.

“So much water!” they chitter, and “How peculiar!” They launch robotic Telespection probes to examine the surface. And then there is much chittering and chattering amongst them when the first probes return to their vessel and report – there is life.

“Lo, what a useful planet this will be!”

Launching Something

There is much debate then about what should be done. But, the one thing all agreed upon: something had to be launched.

“Well, what should our something do?” some ask.

“Perhaps our something could collect soil samples?” some suggest.

“But, what about the contamination of our vessel?” some argue.

“Perhaps we’ll have it play them a song?” This is greeted with some affirmation.

“They may not enjoy our music.” This is greeted with a degree of woe.

And the commotion continues until there is something that is certainly the most agreed upon:

“I say – we should certainly be transducing genetic material into the local wildlife.”

And, though, there are some mutterings of confusion thence, the aliens all silently agree that this is a truly good idea. And good ideas tend to have extraneous question-asking overlooked.

“Of course we have the authority for such behavior, “ some say.

“Let us get all the parts and pieces collected!”

After some time, a certain launchable something is ready for it’s maiden voyage. The device has parts for flying and parts for landing; parts for carrying genetic material through the atmosphere. The device is prepped and propped, fueled and fit. The vessel moves to the appropriate orbit.

These folks wriggle their hands in anticipation as just one of their fingers lingers over a red launch button. And from the corner of the room comes one small voice of doubt -

“What if this something of ours does not do what we want it to do?”

The button is pushed. With minimal fanfare the device travels away from the vessel very quickly. It is soon out of sight, but still communicating with the alien vessel. It enters the planet’s exosphere and a fireball flares up. It soars through the air and across the vast panthalassic sea. Suddenly, there is no contact with the device.

“It seems that we may have lost our device, “ one alien speaks solemnly.

“The signal has degraded to nothing.”

“Certainly, this was not part of the plan,“ some comment.

For many minutes, there is silence. There is impatient waiting and much dull staring down at the blue world. On schedule, however, as the device falls to a lower altitude, all the appropriate parts and pieces do their job. The device is active.

Four-legged beasts and winged curiosities gaze skyward while the fireball, raining down a sprinkling of dust, passes overhead. Then they return to lunch. The greenish non-movers pay even less attention. The minutest of blobs, however, detect an ever-so-slight tingle about their membranes. And so the alien something flies across the young, water planet. It spreads genetic material of the aliens’ choosing over the single rocky continent. Through the air and across the vast panthalassic sea the device flies. And after some time observing it, the intelligent folk in their vessel of metal continue to lumber about the stars.

Passing of Time

There is a tingling sensation, happening upon by only the minutest of blobs – bacteria – which relates to a creature even smaller than this! Too small for anyone to see, but capable of so much. For from within the dust that fell from the sky rode vehicles designed for the delivery of genetic material: alien virions. And, though, seeming innocuous, the beasties had soared with the wind and swarmed the vital fluids of all living things. And within some hosts they met only destruction, but within one, they found vitality.

This one particular type of bacteria seems to be a perfect match for the newcomers. The viruses entered the cells easily and manipulated the tiny machinery. They are quite adept at modification and soon the bacteria’s genetic replication and translation is under control. More and more material is made for the construction of new bacteriophages. More and more bacteria are infected. And soon the entirety of the species has been transformed.

How peculiar is life on this planet as the alien gene sequences and newly refreshed bacteria move about on their way to find they themselves inside other larger creatures. And how more peculiar still that eons and eons of time will pass and life will grow and change. The bacteria pass their encoded evolutionary story from one to the next and transition their homes from within the bellies of one animal to another. The four-legged beasts change their skin, grow hair and lumber to new areas. Tiny winged curiosities change their colors and their shapes. Landmasses slide apart with salty seas filling the void and life marches on.

Realization

Within a dark recess of rock there is a scurrying and a flurry of cat claws. A grayish rat was attempting an escape from the much larger animal, which was also much hungrier. Though, with a flash of teeth the smaller animal satiates the appetite of the cat. Triumphantly, the cat purrs and emerges from the rocks. It moves to lay in the warming beams of the sun, as if photosynthesizing like a plant. Within it’s belly, changes are occurring.

Many years later, after some amount of resequencing, cats in general made a discovery that had already been realized by the rats: the larger human animal was a particular way that made rats follow them. Thus, where there are humans, there is also food. And when humans began to lose their nomadic nature, cultivate the land and congregate in large cities, so too did rats. The cats are welcomed into human dwellings for their rat-hunting skills, warming fur and generally friendly disposition.

Human dwellings eventually grew into comfortable homes. Humans grow larger. So too do cats grow lazy and dependent on human care. And their expressions of affection: purring, kneading, head-butting, etc. – these traits are groomed and bred. Cats and humans share beds and share sinks and sometimes even share their meals. They also share all the little viral beasties of their bellies through their close proximity.

Years later still…

“No you cannot have my cereal, ” one human female, named Bryana, states. Her mate’s cat, named Goober, is staring at her across the kitchen table. He was on the table in the kitchen as if this were a fairly normal thing to do, as if Mandy has prepared the bowl of cereal for him. Why she had put it up on the table instead of on the more convenient floor was a mystery to Goober.

He stares and thinks, “Any moment now, you will want your own breakfast.” Tiring of the cat’s eyes, Bryana mindlessly rises and moves to prepare some toast. Goober, of course, moves to lap-up what remains.

A moment later, Bryana turns and shrieks, “Get that cat out of my cereal!” Goober looks up from his breakfast, which was actually Bryana’s breakfast, and licks his lips satisfyingly. The human male also residing in this home, named Max, quickly enters the kitchen and scoops-up the cat, dropping him near his actual food-dish in the corner. Goober walks out of the room with an air of disbelief.

“Max… that’s the third time this week that that cat has been nibbling on my breakfast. I turn around for 2 seconds to butter some toast, and there she is!” she points the butter knife at Max, a look of contempt on her face. “A downright dirty opportunist, she is.”

“How does she keep forgetting…” Max thinks, but says “I’m sorry, honey, he’s just a cat. You know? Doing what cats do?” Goober shoots him some incredulity from the other room.

“I don’t know how I keep falling for it…” Bryana stares at the floor. “He just stares and stares till I can’t stare anymore.”

“He’s having a staring contest and always winning.” Max thinks.

“It’s as if he’s having a staring contest and always winning, “Bryana quips aloud.

Both Bryana and Max raise their eyebrows at each other quizzically. Then they turn to Goober. He’s staring at them both and they hear him think, “That’s pretty well it, yes?”

True Communism

“Did you just…?” Bryana starts.

“…trade thoughts?” Max finishes, in everyone’s mind.

They stare at the kitchen floor for a moment.

Max shrugs and thinks, “Seems pretty efficient to me…”

Bryana starts as her phone suddenly vibrates in her pocket. She lifts it out to read a message.

“Here’s a message from me mum… says the news anchors on the radio are acting odd – tripping over their own words.”

She looks up. Her phone vibrates again.

“Another message. It’s from Molly… “ she reads, “…says she must be losing her mind – can hear people talking in her head. Apparently, “ she continues, “the neighbors are making comments on every passerby.”

Bryana looks up at Max again, who is checking the news on his phone.

“Look at this headline on the BBC – reports of telepathy all across the country.”

In an effort to clear their heads and not listen to Goober, Max and Bryana decide to take a stroll down the street. Of course, lots of other people had also decided to do the same. There are people arguing, people chatting with complete strangers, people staring at each other, people attempting any and all means to avoid eye contact with anyone whatsoever. Everyone is thinking something and it is all quite a ruckus.

“…well I had no idea that you didn’t enjoy…”

“…I didn’t know anyone else was into…”

“…why is he staring at me?”

“…can they hear this too?”

Louder than anyone’s thoughts, of course, are the real sounds of the busy street: car horns, doorbells, steaming grills, perambulators rolling over grates in the sidewalk. These sounds had been normally ignored, but now seem quite comforting. Max and Bryana pass an outdoor television at the pub and catch the tail of a newsfeed: “…some say they can read minds…hold on…”

Then the most curious thing happened!

Unbeknownst to anyone near a Max or Bryana, scientists from around the world affirm – there is a certain metal something approaching our planet!

It was at that moment that there was an interruption to the newsfeed.

“Max, look at this… “ Bryana points, “They’re issuing a statement.”

Everyone turns to watch the television.

“We are just receiving word from government astronomers….” the newscaster continues, “I… I almost don’t believe it… observers on the ground have confirmed the presence of an alien craft approaching the Earth. I repeat, there is an alien craft nearing the Earth.”

Harvest

As the alien vessel approaches, the curious visitors take note that one species has built spectacular cities on the surface of the planet. They take a particular liking to the one called London, which is, coincidentally, where Bryana, Max and Goober are living. Quickly, the spaceship nears and a great shadow is cast over the city. They, in their vessel of metal, return to the place near which they previously left a deposit. The Telespection probes, though buried under millions of years of dirt, had been made fully active by their proximity. They had, in turn, activated the genetic material in several of this planet’s species causing in some way the newly acquired telepathy.

“So many new critters!” they chitter, and “How wonderful!” They launch more robotic Telespection probes to interact with the humans and other animals. And then there is much chittering and chattering amongst them when the first probes relay this information: the human animals have built these cities. Not only that, but they are able to use tools, language and imagination and perhaps most importantly – they have had the genetic material accumulate in their DNA!

“Lo, what a useful species this will be!”

There is ever so much more debate then about what should be done. Bryana and Max and all the other Earth creatures don’t really know what to do. But, the visiting creatures all silently agree that it is a great idea to harness the human mind. It was supple and flexible; strong enough for large calculations while still docile and controllable. It was perfect to assist them in searching and studying and stars.

The humans are allowed a brief amount of time to get used to telepathic communication. Then the leaders of the visitors meet with the leaders of the humans in a secret sort of way. All the grand alien plans are discussed and with amazement (and really no choice) the humans digest the information. One particularly clever human notes the rotation of the planet and how the creatures here engage in a sleep cycle when they are opposite the system’s star.

So, a reasonable deal is struck: the billions of humans would surrender their minds during sleep. They were to be networked with each other and with the Telespection probes telepathically and induced to dream about the universe. As it happens, this was the largest cloud-computing device ever implemented by any species in the galaxy and would aid the visitors in their quest to understand. In turn, all but a few humans would have memory of this event erased from their minds and media and the creatures of Earth would lumber about as before.

~ Special thanks to Kate Norton for her excellent proof-reading.

Posted in Alt-history | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Within the Void

The darkness of space. So quiet. No nearby stars to push light through the windows. Out there somewhere I hear something.  I cannot identify it. Is it coming from the stars? There is a voice. A sense of urgency.

Suddenly, an adrenaline rush forces me to sit up straight and everything is clear.  I’m awake now, but I shouldn’t be.  The ship must have pulled us out of sleep early.  All the lights are on.  There must be seven alarms going off.  In the beds next to me, I can see my cohorts are just as confused as I am.  But, Jonathan, the engineer – he’s just staring out the window.  And then I see it too.  Something colossal is sitting out there.

It’s as dark as the empty space behind it yet glittering like a star; smooth and with jagged contours. No one says a word. No one has words for it, not even the ship. What is it? How did it find us? It doesn’t look human-made. Captain Routhier joins me at the window while Jonathan silences the alarms.

Irmina, the science technician, breaks from her stare and moves to a computer terminal. The glow of the screen illuminates her face.  I can see her eyes widen.
“Dr. Norgaard” she calls to me, without looking away, “Will you take a look at this?”
I look.  And I can’t believe it either.

“The energy output is incredible,” she claims, “and I cannot tell what type of material this is.”
I scan the screen. Jonathan looks over my shoulder.
I notice that it’s matched our ship’s slow roll.
“And look at this – “she points, “Look at these numbers.”
A moment passes.
“It’s old… and a long way from home.” I observe.
“I wonder if it’s lonely, “ Jonathan quips.

From the window, Captain Routhier comments -
“I can’t tell if it’s lonely, but it’s definitely reaching out to us.” He points out the window.
Indeed, there seemed to be protrusions, like tentacles, growing out of itself.
They were moving right toward the ship. They seemed to be made of the same material yet changing somehow; pulsing, glowing. Inside the cabin, the lights flicker.
“Captain… Dr. Norgaard.” Irmina exclaims, “there’s something going on with our scanning array.”
Jonathan jumps to his engineering terminal and pushes a few buttons.
“Captain. It’s not just the scanning system.” He turns around to face us.
“It’s all the systems.”

The four of us crowd around the two terminals.  Lights are flashing and changing color. The alarms are sounding but changing pitch. We watch, in amazement, as various systems put out error codes we’ve never seen before. We notice a power relay switch off on another deck. Then another. The Captain speaks gravely to Jonathan – “Keep an eye on that reactor, Mr. Campbell. We don’t want to run out of gas in the middle of nowhere.”

Irmina and Jonathan look at each other, then at their screens.  Their fingers fly over the keypad.
“Perhaps it has infected the ship’s operating software?  Something like a virus?” I suggest.
Irmina responds, “If that is the case, we should be able to run the ForceEncrypt command to halt it’s progress.”
“Do it, Jonathan.” Captain Routhier calls.
“I can’t, sir.” We turn to look at him. “My screen is blank.”

But, the screen wasn’t only blank, it was slowly moving. Soon, everything around it seemed to be crawling.
“Do you see that?” Jonathan wonders aloud.
Irmina’s terminal was moving too.  She looks at her own hand.  “Our bodies aren’t moving – at least we aren’t hallucinating.”
I wonder if that is a good thing. The walls start to bend. The corridor twists. The crawling is getting faster.  A beam of metal suddenly bursts out of the ceiling with a violent hiss of steam.
The captain yells – “Everybody move!”
The corridor is twisting and we run anyway.  The artificial gravity starts to gently pull us in differing directions. I feel dizzy. A power relay bursts over our heads and then there is only darkness.

We huddle together beneath one window with only the glow of the thing outside illuminating our faces. I can hear the echoes of metal bending somewhere on the ship and the smell of fried circuits. No one speaks. We all know that there is only a few inches of ship between us and the inhospitable emptiness of space, and it seems as though the ship is falling apart.  The sound of breathing fills my ears.

Then, a light.  One little red light at the end of the corridor flicks on. We focus on it.
After a moment, Jonathan comments, “I don’t remember there being a light there.”
He stands up and the walls begin to glow warmly.  The glow intensifies and moves under our feet and over our heads. The corridor is lit by it, enough for us to see. I can see my cohorts are just as confused as I am.
“What happened to the ship?” The shapes and colors we were used to have changed.

I slowly make my way back to where the terminals used to be. A warm glow follows me within the wall. The terminal is gone.  But, floating right in the air, what seems to be an interface appears in front of me. I can see discrete symbols on it yet I can see right through them at the same time.
“Well, this is interesting,” Jonathan comments beside me. “These almost appear to be ship-wide status reads. But….” he pauses, “I can’t actually tell if this is our ship.”
As Irmina nears us, another interface appears in front of her.  She moves her fingers near it and through it and the image changes.
“I can’t quite make out what these markings are…” She squints. “But… they seem to be changing as we talk – as if they are forming letters and words.” She looks at us. “In English.”

From the window, Captain Routhier comments -
“Seems like this change was a parting gift.” Jonathan, Irmina and I join him at the window.
“It’s gone.” He looks at us. “And we’re not.”
“We have a new ship, it seems. Let’s see if we can figure out how it works.”

~ This is the story of this album. ~

Posted in Futurist | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

The Reality of it

Los Burros was just a trailer but they served the best enchiladas in town. And it was always right close to my house – a block down and past the smelly old gas line; an easy jaunt for a rare day off. Walking past, it seemed odd to me that people still used natural gas for anything, what now that there was a solar panel on everything but the front door.

Mr. Ruiz served me up a mean veggie enchilada with some pico; exactly the way I like it. I pulled out my wallet to pay and he shook his head as usual.

“What? They still print money for a reason, right?” Whatever. I always payed with cash. There was something nice about the solid feel of cash. Maybe I was old fashioned – everyone used credit and thumb-scans these days… Bah! I still wore AR shades – I can’t be that old fashioned!

Only the truly old or crazy didn’t have augmented reality (AR) software. I didn’t make sense to me not to have it – there was so much convenience it had to offer: the latest news, sports stats, blurbs about people passing by, all projected right into your sunglasses; right over the top of what you’re seeing.

I didn’t have the newest Toshiba unit or anything, but mine was at least consolidated with my audio player. I still saw some people with two devices, one to run their AR in one pocket, one for their streaming music in the other pocket.  Silly.  Then again, I suppose, I still carried a wallet.

I payed and walked off. I popped in the earphones to downstream some Scraper Kings tunes.  There was a new sound coming out of Las Vegas, something like a cross between Glitch-Hop and Bluegrass, and these guys were the best.  I like finding new music – I can’t be that old fashioned!

Being a day off, and it being a nice day, I slowed a bit on my way home.  How better to spend a day than with some sun and good music?  I was just nearing the gas line when I noticed someone seeming to head towards it.  They didn’t have the usual AR pop-ups I’d expect to see.  And they didn’t seem old; they were walking rather quickly.  I kept wondering as I passed by… why no AR readout? The AR doesn’t even see them… Was this a terrorist?

Just then, a terribly loud and ferocious noise pierced my hearing.  My right hand flew to my ear.  I looked to the gas-line and flames were blasting skyward.  It was so loud and so bright.  I couldn’t believe my eyes!  I looked downward and saw flames growing on my arms.  I yelled out for help and saw people running away from me!  But, I couldn’t run.  I had to get to the ground.  I couldn’t hear anything.  I fell to my knees.  I couldn’t take a breathe…

I ripped the AR shades from my face.  And then … there was no fire.  There was no fire!  I pulled the earphones out and there was only the sound of cars passing.  Stunned, I stood up.  The gas line was as it always was, humming it’s viscous hum.  Some people were looking at me curiously from across the street.  I patted myself down to be sure that I wasn’t really burned. I wasn’t.

My wallet was gone.

Posted in Futurist | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Tea Rex

The Tea Rex sat upon a dainty chair

with napkin folded neatly in a square.

The host’s tablecloth was delicate and airy -

a stain upon it there was nary.

 

There were teacups, knives and little spoons,

scones and cakes and macaroons,

fancy doilies to set things onto

and tiny fruits for chocolate fondue.

 

Saucers, creamer, desert plates,

bowls of pecans, raisins, dates,

sugar in a sugar bowl,

cherries in a jelly roll.

 

All was made with claws in mind

for this dino was most refined.

All was also large in scale;

there was even room to park his tail!

 

The host spared no expense for Tea Rex’s taste -

there was enough to grow a theropods waist.

More pastries and pies than he could eat

with a giant parasol to block the heat.

 

Of course, the teas were arranged in a stack:

oolong, white, green and black;

an assortment to cherish selectively;

a brown betty for steeping effectively.

 

All afternoon he sipped and savored

taking in the multiple flavors:

the scent of Camellia leaves transformed

and buttered delicacies slightly warmed.

 

Though, nearing the time when the sun doth retire

and leaves us bereft of it’s fire

the mighty Tea Rex then exclaims

that it is time for him to do the same.

 

And after the Tea Rex has had his fill

when his self-control grows lazy, he will

act just like a dinosaur

and have no manners anymore.

 

He up-ends the table and all the plates

all the scones, all the dates,

all the napkins go tumbling south

and find themselves in his cavernous mouth.

 

Lip-smacking, swinging his tail around,

Tea Rex belches up quite a sound.

And where all this rudeness matters most:

he managed even to eat his host.

 

So if you should find yourself hosting a feast

and sitting across from such a beast,

remember to step away, if you’re smart,

when the Tea Rex prepares to depart.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment