Broadway Lyonel

Lyonel was a cross-eyed cat that wanted nothing more than to be in Broadway. He sang and danced day and night, but Lyonel was born too ugly. All the scouts in all the audiences just laughed when Lyonel would audition.

            “That cat is much too ugly to be an actor… better change careers, boy,” all the casting crews would say.

            Lyonel would cry and dance at night and when he caught his breath, then he would sing himself to sleep.

            He tried in every theater he could… everyone just laughed and turned their heads.

            One day Lyonel decided to try his chances in a different country and he bought a plane ticket to France. The minute he arrived to France he was greeted in a much different fashion. Everyone vowed to him and treated him as if he were royalty.

            When he arrived early the next day to an audition he had learned about the night of his arrival, Lyonel was thrilled to hear the director wanted to meet him personally.

            “I could not believe it, I had to see it with my own eyes… they said there was a cross-eyed cat around here and I wanted to see it for myself!” the director said as she entered the room. Then, removing her coat and dropping it carelessly on the ground as she knew her butler was right behind her to pick it up, she addressed Lyonel, “hello, kitty… you are absolutely gorgeous!”

            Lyonel couldn’t believe his ears! “Gorgeous, you say? But in America everyone says I’m the ugliest cat! They don’t even let me audition for plays!”

            The director was baffled! “Would you like to audition for MY play? Can you sing?”

            “Can I?” Lyonel chuckled… “I’ve been practicing every night of my life!”

            Lyonel sang a few notes and the director immediately fell in love with what she heard. “Lead role!” she yelled, “I have found my lead role! Why on Earth wouldn’t those silly Americans let you audition?”

            “Well, they said I was too ugly.”

            “Nonsense! Those silly, uncivilized Americans don’t know that in your breed, being cross-eyed is as good as it gets… you are of the finest of royal blood, my boy… heck, you are practically a king around here.”

            Lyonel decided to move to France and made a living touring European theater until his death at age 40 of a pain pill overdoze.

Amira of Iraq

            Last night around 2300hrs my squad and I went on a last minute mission issued to us right before we called it a day. I didn’t know why, but for some reason a little voice inside my head said to accept the mission. As Staff Sergeant, I am the only one with authority to refuse a mission. The boys, of course, were not happy about leaving the camp so close to dark… nighttime is when shit happens around here.

            “Saddle up, boys, we got one more before hitting the ‘racks!” I yelled out as I approached the two Humvees waiting for me outside the command post. Their groans were nothing new… these boys are lazier than a bear in hibernation.

            As we left the camp, the mood in the leading humvee I was in changed immediately when put a Metallica cd and turned the volume so loud both humvees could hear it.

            About 23 kilometers from camp we hit a roadblock. There was something that seemed like cattle in the middle of the road. I ordered my squad to wait for me as I approached the block on foot to investigate.

            Kneeling near the downed cattle was a beautiful young Iraqi girl yelling, “Please don’t shoot, please don’t shoot… I need help!” I hung my rifle from my shoulder and extended my arm to help her up when out of nowhere she pulled me down and delivered a strike to my jaw so strong and firm it knocked me out immediately. The next few minutes after that are just a blur to me. The next clear memory I have is of my corporal and medic kneeling over me with cover fire coming from the humvees.

            Still in a daze I looked to my left and saw my team shot down the woman who had knocked me out. I realized then we had been ambushed and we were still engaged in combat. I took another look at the woman and realized she looked familiar.

            About a week before we had some time off and some of the boys and I went out to a local nightclub. Nightclubs are still illegal or something around here… they sure are frowned upon. I met the most beautiful girl in the world. She said her name was Amira… it means Princess. We kissed and fell in love. I promised her I’d find her when the war was over and I would take her to America.

Now she lay there next to me covered in blood and bullet holes with a blank look in her beautiful brown eyes. I laid here in shock as bullets flew around my men and me, but I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even move. I felt a warming sensation down my neck then realized the blow wasn’t delivered by the beautiful woman, but by a bullet… most likely silenced and probably shot from across the field somewhere. Whoever shot it was a great shot… AND he wanted me to live.

Favorite Flower

I step forth and kiss your pretty lips,

And I feel the purple fire running through me

as your toxins animate me

in a way like nothing else can

Your lovely contamination hits every part of me in a combination Of feelings

Smacking me Like a shooting star

Exploding in me sending shockwaves to my heart

Skip a beat then it comes back to me

Sends a chill down to my back

And then 2 into the brain

It’s something I can’t explain

But the way  you ease my pain

Is the reason I stay sane

in this crazy ass environment I claim

to be my home under the rain.

Cheesy

Two-stroke bit the chicken Breasts,
While Cheena ate her pizza slice,
They both studied for a major test,
while watching reruns of Miami Vice.
Then Cheena dropped some pizza on her shoe,
and Two-stroke asked, “what would you like for me to do?”
“I want you to save your own,
Rise above and fight for yours.
Don’t let anybody stop you,
from achieving all your goals.
Aim so high,
that eagles must look up
just to see your standing pride.
And when your life gets tough,
Don’t you ever run and hide!”
“Yes, thank you for the advice,
but what to do about the pizza slice?”