Quote from Vincent Van Gogh…
Archive for December, 2016
Morning Star…4
“So,” said Zip, gathering the paper wrappers from their lunch, wadding everything into a tight ball, and tossing it into the trash can. “Do angels sing? I mean there’s a lot of stories about heavenly choirs and all that kind of thing.”
“Some of them hum a little.”
“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” he said, smiling. “No they don’t really sing, or wear robes, or have rings around their heads. They are alien beings, not holy, or spiritual beings, anymore than you guys are.”
“No Rock and Roll?”
“Only when they come here. When they’re here they do everything you do and pretty much drain all of you, leaving your bodies and spirits torn and sometimes dead. You’re like catnip to them, only a billion times stronger.”
“Are there babies left behind.”
“Definitely not,” said Lucifer, uncomfortably. “I mean if you matched a monkey with a pigeon, would there be babies?”
“Are they like pigeons,” she gasped, shocked.
“No, that was just an example.”
“Oh, good, because I really like pigeons.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
“I can read and write better than my teachers, so what are they going to teach me? I’ve already read more books than they have and I’m bored to tears. I’ve learned more from you today, than I’ve learned from them ten and a half years. Although, I did like a couple of my teachers. They were really cool and knew a lot of interesting things. I guess that’s why they made them go away.”
“It might be,” agreed Lucifer. “I’ve listened in on more than a few classes and believe me, the stuff they tell you is made up. None of it’s real. Oh, sure the names might be real but everything else is a lie.”
“That’s why I’m not in school.”
“Where does your mom think you are?”
“In school.”
“Don’t they call her?”
“Probably.”
“Doesn’t she care?”
“She’s an artist.”
“Well, that explains it.”
“My dad’s is a musician.”
“You’re a lucky kid, riding the creative wave. Digging the vibes, man.”
“You can be totally weird sometimes. Like someone changes your channels and you go from one old tv show to another.”
“Perfect analogy.”
“I thought so.”
“I like you, Zip.”
“I like you too, Lucifer.”
Fast Eddie and the Poetry Slam…
The chicklets held an impromptu Poetry Slam last night in honor of New Year’s Eve. Fast Eddie, so named because he can write poetry faster than anyone else, read several poems and received a standing ovation. He said poetry is in his blood and in his feathers. He thinks and dreams poems and words are always on the tip of his beak. He said I could share two of his poems.
Stars
when you
wish
upon a
star
it tickles
the star
and
makes it
laugh and
that’s how
Albert
discovered
gravity
by watching
the movement
in space
made by
laughing stars
Feathers
feathers are
light and fluffy
they keep us
warm and dry
they come in
different colors
some glisten
in the sun
Morning Star…3
“I love fries and malts,” said Zip, happily.
“Me too,” grunted Lucifer, shoving another handful of fries into his mouth.
“Life is hard, you know.”
“It didn’t used to be,” said Lucifer. “In the beginning cavepeople just hung out at the beach and got tan. They didn’t fight, they just enjoyed life.”
“That is SO not true!” said Zip, loudly. “They died from cuts, infections and broken bones. They had to kill animals, some of them really big animals. Then they had to figure out how to eat them and wear their skin and they didn’t even have fire, and a lot of them were NOT living in tropical environments, so they were cold. And, for your information, they killed each other, so there.”
Lucifer laughed. “Good for you,” he said. “I knew you were a smart kid. You’re right, of course. They could barely communicate and they died all the time. Their brains were quite different than yours. Keep in mind that I was there.”
“How did they figure things out?”
“They had help from other life forms and by trial and error.”
“I wouldn’t like that,” said zip, hugging her knees.
“I taught them how do paint on cave walls. I knew you guys would love that stuff, once you found it.”
“You did not,” gasped Zip.
Lucifer laughed. “You’re right. They did that all by themselves.”
“Did angels come here and have sex with human women?”
“Uh, excuse me?”
“Didn’t you hear me?”
“Yes, but that’s quite a question, don’t you think?”
“It’s just a question. I don’t know what quite a question even means. My friend told me that her friend learned that from some religious guy.”
“Uh.”
“If you’re too embarrassed to talk about sex, I’ll understand. Some people think it’s a taboo subject, like money and religion. I don’t get that but that’s what I was told.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” said Lucifer, sincerely, “it’s just that you’re a child.”
“I’m SEVENTEEN!”
“Do you know what a ‘junkie” is?”
“Sure.”
“Angels are junkies for humans.”
“That’s can’t be good.”
“It’s not. That’s why I’m here.”
“I hate to say it, but if you’re trying to protect us, you’re not doing a very good job.”
“You don’t know what it would be like if I WASN’T here, do you?”
“That’s true. I don’t know what it would be like if you weren’t here.”
“I’ll be right back,” said Lucifer, as he got up and walked toward a woman wearing a blue dress. She had dark hair and looked unhappy. Lucifer talked to her for a few minutes and she started to smile. Then she was laughing and color came into her face. Lucifer bowed and kissed her hand.
“What did you say to her?”
“Well, she was depressed. She doesn’t have a lot of money and she’s been feeling unloved and lonely. She has a poor paying job and she hasn’t had a boyfriend for a very long time because she works a lot, just to pay her rent and buy food. I told her that she was beautiful and that everything thing about her was charming. I said that I knew the man she was going to meet, next week, would be perfect for her.”
“Is that true?”
“It is.”
“Wow.”
“I know, right?”
“Why are angels junkines for humans?”
“Humans are animals and they like that. They don’t think you deserve to be treated any differently than you treat the animals around you. Humans do terrible things to animals. Angels do the same thing.”
“So angels are mean and ugly like we are.”
“They are indeed.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Well, we’re all not like that. Why do you think all the stories about me are bad?”
“Why?”
“Because I disagree with them. I think humans are beautiful and should be treated with respect. I don’t think their DNA should be played with and I don’t think their evolution should be forced. I don’t think angels should come here in disguise and torment all of you but that’s what the do. So, they made me look like the terrible one, so they could keep doing what they wanted to do and people would blame me.”
“So like school and the government.”
“Exactly like school and the government but more lethal.”
Rethinking Life 
Written
on December 30, 2016