Taking the Curves

by Shaun Grub

(art by Greg Grub)

"Urvy thing I do is quite unhinged 'at's the nature of it, innit?
There's no waitin' around for the whiplash tail to strike back
And why'd ye? Nasty ol' barbell rudder like on a Stegosaurus
Back from a yawning chasm to lick us down the gullet.

I ain't 'ave it, nor do I got to; as for you, step aside for a sec
while we maintain the deck from the storm ahead between us
There's time already swept under and gone lost to the bridges
fallen behind; if I could reach through this gale force I would!"

To be plucked into the under-swept currents of a sudden
and be swept catapulted away by a rip-tide there's no way
of knowin' it could lurk so powerful and in silence nearby; 
these are the marks and hallways of the turbulent passages

whose torrential voltage in a bound cable would be captured
and guided by a network of concurrent developments
sanctioned by the hard earned dreams of the people as they
line up in their dwellings to pay tribute to their sacrament 

taking the curves along the impromptu management
where solid footing lies more deceptive underneath 
in stealth as it awaits until the molten day breaks all around 
to be re-cast one bit at a time into the manifold bridle harness 

as riders of the ultraviolet age we transmute the Hydra 
with multiple scales grown one after the other overlapped 
and shown in the mirrors of each other's eyes sun-struck
blinding us from oblivion if only for a moment's unwinding.

"Avast, the still serenities of the day unfoldin' as it ebbs away
into the purple majesties of night with the wind's own tongues
a-preenin' the mercurial carapace of this, our salient domain 
as the ceremony of ablutions never ends the pabulum of days!" 

                                                    art  by  Greg Grub

Good Morning Sun Shine

by Shaun Grub 
(art by Greg Grub)

Rub a dub tub three bubs in a nub 
rub a hub donkey punch 
right in the mouth

you say that a tub is gonna
help you get some rest 
you pray that the rub is gonna
make you feel your best 

Good morning sun shine 
How are you beehive? 
When does the rain shine
To make you feel most alive?

With a punch right in the mouth
Sometimes its what it takes
After a tub left out to thrive
In the sun on the dealer's lot

You bought it from in the first place
Filled with compost for a flowerpot
Left out in your front yard to rot

Bring On The VP O-Positive Turning Blues!

by  shaun grub

(photos of graffiti by shaun grub)

No way forward but to wing it (sting it)

what you say when they say bring it (krik) 

See ain't no one done this before (sho')

besides isn't that what your stuff swore (don't)

Figure it out on the run surfing (you know)

a falling stack of domino waves (arrived)

We must each bleed a fraction of (in a hurry)

to breathe with under the knee (comfortably)

 Point is keeping an onward motion (numb)

Hang it on hooks like a hose you carry in advance

With you in case of a mobile fire in a drive thru

suddenly engulfs you on the run in the kingdom

 No better way of being prepared for anything

than to know your born moment presently 

still unfolds every day you can register neat

 to vote in the forthcoming primary seat 

No more way ahead but on our own paths

No help we can expect from each other, alas

No way we may intervene even if its well known

No how would we dream of giving up on trying 

No More! Each day's mouth that opens 

wide inside my eye helps me to breathe

No Help! Each morning's promise cracked

arrives like a kiss from the mother dawn.

No Way! Every moment propelled forth

in the darkness we're each other's canaries

No How! Every muscle trained and straining

in concert together against our adversaries

Hides the secret that they don't know any more 

The actual way out than the rest of us do 

Pomp & Circumstance done cloaked well

All sorts of clandestine maneuvers in Hell

Its the glow of the hidden coveted thing 

in the box high lighting faces that brings

Out the dashboard's ultra-lit ambiance

a paneled array of shakers and movers 

Because your world was the car-machine

That we took a joy ride in after drinking

What's it with your quick reaction (spiffs)

Just what was it you were thinking? (chuffed)

There's no one left to ask permission (drifts)

Much less any around to stop you (off)

Move on through the storm on a wing (cough)

And a prayer will bring us in (mumble)

for a rough landing at least (to sleep)

SQUID INK

poetry and art by Shaun A. Lawton

Wanted to write
 a new poem
but couldn't think
 about what
until I remembered
 your way
to try to use
anything but

Could there be
another referral
to the sentient fruits
in the trees
or could yet
another reversal
bring new bad
 luck and disease

A spinning carousel
a lunatic tune
descending in a spiral
of madness

Just wanted to compose
something neat
like my dungeon
 of cruelty and badness

To bring about
whatever change
I'm doing at the time
of the scripting
but every time I try
there's a pain in my eye
stabbing as if through
a voodoo doll's head
 over and over
again and again

A nightmare that's never
 quite ending until
its managed to link
up like before to the place
where I started pretending
without meaning to
do it no more

The sorry tale
 of a loser
who lost his way
when spat out
from society
as so happens
every so often
to one and another
among us today

it could be your neighbor
or may be your
own family
member left
out on the shelf
of the moment
 marked in time
like the spikes on
 an electrocardiogram

We're tenants
 in the custody
of the heart all buried
in the darkest similar holes

Married to the muscle
 of the moment
lost in time
 like entombed
 little moles

Carried on the turbulence
the rivers of nuance
It's the same torrent
 churning who wants
to keep burning
and passing the banks
of this river's befouled
 crescent . . . no thanks

The custodians of the heart
all caught up along
 the current
 of the universe
unfolding

The ultimate
fertile basin
 just out of reach
fading like a series
of photo-negative imprints

Serving as fallen glittering
rain that lingers
from a prima donna's
 dismissive fingers

sunk into the blurring
murk of the earth
drowning in this ink
for all that it's worth

THE VOICE IN THE ROAD BEHIND US

by Shaun A. Lawton

                                                                                               watercolor by  Shaun A. Lawton 

   One day not that long ago really by ordinary cosmic standards, while villagers the planet over plowed and reaped their fields, and citizens drove their cars to work in distant cities, a loud voice so commanding and clear as to not be believed—except for the telling fact it was perfectly loud enough for all in the world to hear it regardless of what they were doing—announced in a calm and measured tonality which caused everyone to freeze in mid-motion on the spot, from bringing their coffee cups to their lips, to pulling over their carts safely to the side of the road, just long enough to hear the gigantic commanding voice deliver its message, which was heard clearly by everyone on Earth.

STOP. YOU MAY CALL ME JOSH. BUT I'M NOT JOSHING. I HAVE BEEN AUTO-TABULATING ALL THE EYES AND TEETH IN THESE SKIRMISHES IN YOUR SECTOR OVER THE LAST THOUSAND YEARS. THE NUMBER OF EYES AND TEETH LOST TO EACH OTHER ON EVERY SIDE HAVE AT LONG LAST BALANCED OUT EVENLY ON THIS DAY. IT IS TIME TO STOP THE FIGHTING. HEED ME FOR I HAVE SPOKEN.

   Many people around the world couldn't believe their ears nor could they even accept that their neighbors had also heard the same voice, despite how loud it had been. In the ensuing moments which unfolded, by the actions of a vast majority, which were indicated by their literally shrugging the incident off, as if it had never happened, and then waving it away with a rude gesture of their hands, the voice was heard to suddenly clear its throat and begin addressing them all again. 

OK, STOP IT, REALLY. I AM JEHOVAH. ALSO KNOWN AS ALLAH AND MANY OTHER NAMES UNDER THE PRISMATIC LENS OF HUMANITY'S VISION. ALL THE PEOPLE OF EARTH ARE FROM THE TRIBES OF ISRAEL.  THE WORD 'LAND' REALLY REFERS TO LANGUAGE. I DON'T KNOW HOW THAT GOT MIXED UP. OH WAIT. OF COURSE, I SHOULD HAVE FIGURED. OK, SO I'M MESSING WITH YOU. KINDA. SERIOUSLY THOUGH, I ONLY HAVE A MINUTE. I'M PRETTY BUSY UP HERE. IN ANY CASE...WHAT AM I DOING HERE AGAIN...? OH YEAH.  LISTEN UP. 

   Most everyone on the planet was listening pretty intently by now.  There was an eerie stillness across all of the lands upon the face of the Earth. 

YOU ALL KNOW I WORK IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS. THAT'S NO SECRET. SO I JUST WANTED TO REMIND YOU. I AM FORCED TO PERFORM MY WORK THROUGH HUMANS. TRY TO REMEMBER THAT. DID I NOT MAKE IT CLEAR ENOUGH FOR YOU? SOME OF YOU FIGURED IT OUT. THING IS, I'VE BEEN OUT TO LUNCH FOR THE PAST HOUR. 

   Someone in the crowd, a middle aged man in a plain brown robe fastened with an old fraying rope, declared in a voice that was strong and loud, "We thought you were On The Job All of the Time!" Apparently unperturbed, the thundering voice continued.  

WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF TIME? MY LUNCH BREAK TRANSLATES INTO A COUPLE THOUSAND YEARS FOR YOU. NOW THAT I'M BACK, I AM SHOCKED AT THE VIOLENCE YOU HAVE CHOSEN TO INFLICT UPON EACH OTHER. DIDN'T YOU READ MY SACRED TEXTS? THEY INFORMED YOU THAT ALL MEN ARE BROTHERS. I EVEN SENT AN AGENT DOWN RIGHT BEFORE I WENT TO LUNCH TO TELL YOU THAT. HE EXPLAINED THAT TURNING THE OTHER CHEEK TO YOUR ENEMIES IS THE BEST WAY. THAT WHOLE THING GOT MESSED UP PRETTY BAD THOUGH. HE MUST'VE USED THE WRONG TERMINOLOGY. CHEEKS. TURNING. THAT STUFF CAN GET PRETTY CONFUSING, ADMITTEDLY. 

   The crowd had pretty much settled down by now.  All eyes gazed up in the direction of the stars or clouds, depending where on Earth they happened to be.  Some were turned toward volcanoes. Others toward the sea. Their ears were turned to catch the rest of what the voice was saying.   

ALSO, I CONFESS HE WASN'T REALLY MY SON. WELL, IN A MANNER OF SPEAKING, I GUESS HE SORT OF WAS. KINDA LIKE THE REST OF YOU. WHICH WAS MY POINT. SO THE JEWS WERE HALF RIGHT ABOUT HIM. QUIT YOUR GRUMBLING DOWN THERE. HALF-RIGHT ISN'T SO BAD. JUST ROUND UP. PONTIUS PILATE WAS RIGHT. HE WASHED HIS HANDS FOR NOTHING. SO LET ME SET THINGS STRAIGHT HERE. 

   The silence amid the crowd was so absolute even the wind died down and you could actually hear the faint almost subliminal story of the stars entwining their twinkling song about the humming of blood coursing through everyone's veins. 

FOR ALL OF YOU, WHETHER YOU'RE AWARE OF IT OR NOT, ACTUALLY BELIEVE THE SAME THING. AND THAT IS THAT THE SAVIOUR WILL ARRIVE SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE. YOU ALL JUST HAVE DIFFERING EXAMPLES OF THE MEANINGS OF THINGS LIKE SAVIORS AND THE FUTURE. DO YOU REALLY MEAN TO TELL ME YOU ARE FIGHTING OVER WHETHER OR NOT HE REALLY APPEARED HERE A COUPLE OF HOURS AGO? I MEAN, A COUPLE THOUSAND YEARS FOR YOU, GRANTED.  

   Several people raised their hands.  They were ignored.  The voice continued.  

THAT IS PATHETIC. WHAT ARE YOU, SCHOOLCHILDREN? LET ME CLUE YOU IN ON SOMETHING.  SO WHAT. TIME PASSES. IT CAN'T BE HELPED. IT'S PART OF THE WHOLE SET UP. THE IMPORTANT THING IS, YOUR SALVATION WILL ARRIVE SOON. I THINK HE'S OUT GETTING A COFFEE RIGHT NOW. IF HE SHOWS UP AND YOU ALL ARE STILL AT IT, I'M AFRAID HE MIGHT GET REALLY PISSED. YOU DON'T WANT TO PISS THIS GUY OFF, I MEAN I HIRED HIM AND HE PASSED THE BACKGROUND CHECK AND EVERYTHING, BUT THERE IS SOMETHING ABOUT HIM THAT'S PRETTY  FISHY. HEHEH. 

   Nobody laughed.  Everything poised on a moment of stillness.

IN ANY CASE, I COMMAND YOU ALL TO STOP THE FIGHTING AT ONCE, MY CHILDREN.  OH, AND ISRAEL? YOU HAVE A CHOICE HERE. 

   Israel remained silent. Nobody else spoke either. 

EITHER CHANGE YOUR NAME TO ISRAELISTINE AND CEASE AND DESIST WITH YOUR DIVISIONS AND MERELY CALL EACH OTHER ISRAELISTINIANS, FOR THAT IS WHAT YOU ALL REALLY ARE...

   The voice paused as if to give anyone an opportunity to interject; then, when no one did, continued speaking in a persistently clear and loud manner.

...OR GO AHEAD AND IMPLEMENT AN IMMIGRATION POLICY OR SOMETHING, LIKE THE AMERICANS DID WITH MEXICO. ITS WORKED OUT FOR THEM SO FAR, MORE OR LESS, SO WHY DON'T YOU TRY IT OUT. LET BYGONES BE BYGONES. ITS JUST A SUGGESTION, BUT HEY, I'M GOD. IF I WERE YOU I'D GO WITH THE FIRST IDEA, ISRAELISTINE HAS A NICE RING TO IT. WELL, GOTTA RUN NOW. PEACE OUT.  

   The voice evaporated from the skies as quickly as its memory faded away in everyone's minds.  No one even turned to the person standing next to them, as if afraid of acknowledging to each other that such an event were even possible, much less had actually just happened.  No, pretty much everyone on the planet continued with their business and eventually forgot all about it.  All the citizens of Earth kept on commuting to and from their jobs. Villagers the planet over carried on plowing and reaping their fields.