Prophesy (POEM)

Prophesy

And it happened one day that,
As I was walking alone in the deep woods
The time arrived that had been awaiting my arrival
And the sun melted the last from my skin
And I stopped
And a single tear tickled my cheek
And I looked up and beheld mother earth
Beholding me with her warmth
And I looked down at the sky
And laughed with my grandfather
And the river called the name I gave myself
After that time that the rocks had regarded me
And a single doe glanced my way
And a badger took his stories back
Above the top of the ground
Back under, and into the earth.

I saw my toes grow into roots
And my hands into leaves
That sucked in the new sunlight
Filtered through blessings
Far into the violet daylight
Past years, eons, moments
Through molecules of time
Breathing in Creator
Breathing in rain
Taking from
And then
Giving back
Simple
Life.

--Eric Marley
June 2012

Trail, For April - (Prose)

Trail

I am a muddy trail

Not sloppy mud

Just moist

Impressionable

Her sneaker dented me

And the sun dried me

And I sat there

No longer smooth

With her footprints

In me

Helpless

You,

Wind that wends

Unwinds, undoes

Makes mud crumbly until,

Over sweet time,

Molecules meander

Just wander away

Hastened by you

Summer zephyr

Redeeming breeze

So now

Her footprints are barely visible

Dust blown away

Dis-remembered

My trail, my self

Now feels clean again

Safe from imprints

For wind leaves none

Ready for autumn

And the kiss of sweet rain...

--Eric Marley

June 2012

The Interview - (Short Story / Soapbox)

The Interview

I stood in front of eleven of the strangest looking people I’d ever seen. Several eyes too many. Mouths on their chests. No hair anywhere. And not a smile in the house.

The remains of what looked like about two dozen deceased humans lay in pieces here and there. Blood was everywhere. A stupid quote from a Jim Carrey movie crossed my mind, and I smiled. But as soon as it did, I forgot it. Such was the state of my mind in those days.

The Things (as their kind had come to be known) sat behind the table, staring. Amazing that they could talk with their tongues like that, but the small one said in perfect English with a strong Australian accent, “And what is YOUR explanation for what has been going on here, on this ridiculous planet?” It seemed implied that I had better impress them with an answer or I would be summarily disemboweled like the bodies around me.

I was too nervous to stutter, actually. Another Jim Carrey quote crossed my mind and I remember smiling as I spoke the words that would save my life.

“They started it.”

I guess they had been expecting something else; a type of response they hadn't liked before, evidenced by the carnage all around me. The Things stared, and then looked at one another incredulously. One of them opened its mouth to speak and then closed it again, literally speechless. Two of them began to stand, presumably to come to me to do whatever they had done to the people that they had interviewed before me. I stood where I was, unafraid. Whatever they were going to do was no worse than what I’d been through before the Things arrived. It had been a long couple years.

It was then that the Small One (who had, dare I say, feminine features) started to chuckle. The others all looked at “her”, and one by one, also started to chuckle. They did this in a way that I found completely unnerving; like I used to feel when birds would fly too close to my head, when there were actually birds in the world, before the Great Extinction.

“Now, I’m nervous,” I thought to myself, with a sense of doom.

They kept chuckling, making a sound almost like chickens.

They chuckled some more.

After they were done chuckling, they started, you know, chuckling. All the while, they looked at me. One of them drooled into his cavernous navel that was situated next to his third arm. 

“Mr. Marley,” the Small One started abruptly as the others ceased their inane cackle, “we have been here on your planet disguised as humans for over a dozen years. We watched you from our aircraft for thousands before that. By the time we finally decided it was time to come out of disguise and take over this place two years ago, you had nearly annihilated one another. Wars were constant. Famine rampant. Your elderly died poor and alone, and your young squandered their youth and health on entertainment. Your planet is polluted to the point that the bulk of the life that started on it has either become extinct or has had to adapt to be able to live in squalor. Your females grow breasts at age six due to poor diet, and your males are oversexed to the point that they are uneducated about anything but the procreative act, at which they fail miserably for lack of interest in the actual act, preferring fantasy. The one nation on earth that had a chance to do something remarkable had become just like all the others; ruled by those that could gain power by whatever means were at their disposal. Since humankind are generally governed by their own ethics above all, and since the human with the lower moral state will always have more tools for the obtaining of power than the one with ethics in a system such as this, eventually only those with low ethics were successful. This occurred until there were none of the original freedoms left, for unethical rulers always have the removal of the freedoms their subjects once enjoyed as their top priority. It makes them easier to rule.”

Small One looked at her colleagues, who looked back and opened their mouths large in agreement, as is their custom. She continued.

“So, when we ask, ‘what happened here,’ and you say, “They started it…”

Again with the chuckling. I swear it went on for 35 minutes as they stared at me with all those eyeballs. "Things", in general, have no appreciation for time. This may have gone on for hours if one of the severed legs that had been balanced precariously on a torso against a wall suddenly fell over. At this they all stopped, as if they simultaneously remembered something.

“Explain, please,” said the Small One, with a hint of impatience.

Another Jim Carrey quote. I swear. Something from The Mask, I think.

“What I meant was…well, I don’t know who started it. Well, kinda I do. You’re right, you know, about the powerful people. Looking back – and I used to really study this stuff – it seemed that really bad people took the things that all people love the most and figured out how to use it against the weaker ones. So you had, for instance, the institution of Religion using the natural love that people have of a Creator from the earliest stages of their lives, against them. So, a long time ago, maybe even before you guys started watching what was going on here, some bad people found out that they could use this love of Creator to rule over people. They made up lies that the people would believe, put it in books they called “sacred” and taught them as truth. They made them so believable! They mixed some truth in so they could fool even the smart ones of us: all this so that they could take away the freedoms of the people that believed the lies. Eventually, the people forgot most of their original freedoms and the religious rulers became very powerful. By the time the dark ages hit you had to be considered “righteous” to count for anything, to count as “human”. This was not only in America, but all over. While this sentiment ebbed and flowed, by the time you showed yourselves, it was pretty much the reigning philosophy among the "righteous" ones.

“Yes,” the Small One said, “we saw that happen. Continue.”

I paused, not really knowing what to say, but I knew I'd better say something. So I decided to talk about one of my own observations. “Well, the strange thing was what was considered ‘righteous’. Although the main guy in the holy book for the religion in America taught and lived Compassion very effectively, the ‘righteous’ taught that compassion had to be earned in order to be given. Not only by their God, but by themselves towards other people. So in the end, if it was determined that you were too different from the ‘righteous’ ones, you were simply out. You were outcast from their society. They didn’t want you polluting their ‘righteous’ children, or making them doubt their ‘righteous’ lives. In the end, if the outcasts, for instance, blocked a road with their bodies that was being used by their own country’s military to invade other countries, and take away the freedoms of people in foreign lands, the ‘righteous ones’ would get upset. They would make fun of the appearance of the outcasts, call them names, and even look on with satisfaction as they were beaten. Compassion went away. The question, “what would make them block that road like that?” was not asked any more by the ‘righteous’. It was assumed that only ‘unrighteousness’ would make the outcasts question the military. The same was true, of course, of their religion. To the ‘righteous’, even asking a question about the validity of a statement made by a religious leader was an act of spiritual treason, especially if it were not easily answerable, even though that’s what the main guy in the holy book the Americans carried did. He always asked questions of the corrupt or confused spiritual leaders in his own day, and in the end they destroyed him, just like the 'righteous' really wanted to do to the outcasts they saw, one way or another. In the end, it was all turned around. The outcasts, when they tried to preserve freedom, were called “traitors”. The ‘righteous’, when they tried to preserve the corrupt government in power, called themselves “patriots”. It wasn’t until just before you arrived that the outcasts refused to be ruled any longer and became true patriots and did what patriots always do - tried to take back the freedoms that people are born with; the right to love whom they want to, the right to choose their own government in a way that is not influenced by people with money or other types of power, the right to build their own lives without undue pressure from organizations – including the government and organized religion – in whatever way they want, the right to a planet that is not polluted. And that’s what started the final war, really. So when I say ‘they started it’, that’s what I meant.” 

The Small One opened her mouth wide and solemnly took off her hat with one of her ears. The others all did the same (except the one with the cigar, who seemed unsure of me still). They regarded me.

“You are free to go, dude,” was all she said. 

And I walked out into the silent world.     

Why? (Prose)

Why


"Why?", laughed she to I
A quizzical smile in her eye...
I took a breath
Closed my eyes
And replied...


"Because although Samson slew an army with the jawbone of an ass
Deliliah owned his;
Because Helen's face launched a thousand ships;
Because my testosterone, as scary and domineering as it looks,
Bows like a schoolboy to the royalty of your estrogen;
Because the last thing I expect to hear in my mind as my life leaves-
Is your voice, calling me home;
Because no matter how overcrowded this world can seem,
When you were not in my heart, I wandered it alone;
Because when a mountain stares back at me and asks for the password to ascend,
Your name is the answer it seeks;
Because I can live like a spartan in a cave, surrounded by rock,
But your presence in my life makes me want to make a rug of the bear
And keep a fire going, and let small things live;
Because your smile makes my breath stay home;
Because although I am stronger, you are wiser;
Because you can bear children;
Because I want to fight for you;
Because I want to stop fighting, because of you;
Because the confusion I feel in your presence
Feels like wisdom to me;
Because in my soul it is always winter, but your tulips push up through the snow;
Because there is nothing like a sunrise after a cold night-
And you are like that hope to me;
Because you don't let me forget that there is at least one person pulling for me;
Because I can take all my talents and make something nice for you (if you help);
Because I try harder when you're looking;
Because whether you know it or not,
You have what it takes to be the love of my life;
Because when my knees want to buckle at the sight of the onslaught,
Your flower in my pocket makes my fingers grip the club;
Because you don't apologize for being as beautiful as you can be;
Because you came here, in this moment, when I needed you most
After I had cried to the Universe for help 
And you heard  
And made it seem like it was my idea to find you
So I could still be a man."


"Oh", she smiled.

--Eric Marley