Hello, Y’al Whatup? This be Wanda Lust, Crack Ho’. This post be about Mr. Adzhole SillyPeder, the man who be contributin’ $300,000 to our charity each time. It pain him to give this much but he kinda’ in love wid’ me. He part spider and he got six arms goin’ ever’ which way all the time. I know he done hate givin’ me the money yet he got five Mil’ in the bank. In the meantime he lay out these stingy ass little feasts fo’ me, like three Stella Doro cookies and one cup of instant coffee with the powered creamer, and I mean ONE cuppa coffee. It so happened I likes brewed coffee with real cream, and I likes to pound down a shot when I concludes a deal. He act like her forget ever’ time and I know he too stingy to buy the booze.

The bastard got a cool five Mil in the bank and he can’t afford no bottle of Amaretto or some shit, and some goddamned cheese and crackers. Would it kill him: he act like it gone kill him. I know he stingy ‘cuz he aint have no real love as a chile. He aint never had no real love his whole damn life, much less any sex. So I hates to see such pain. Oh, he try to hide it, grinnin’ like a fuckin’ fox in the hen house. But his eyes be sad like a crushed coackroach. Mostly aint no woman gone fuck wid’ him in the Biblical sense, that is.

But Ol’ Matchmaker Wanda is alive and well, and I done got a woman fo’ him, a hunch back name of Ten Cent Tillie cuz’ she can only git’ $10.00 per trick. She ugly as a wall of shit and got a hunch like that ugly man who ring the bells in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, And she walk like the Frankenstein monster, all slow and jerky, but one thing I say that gal got energy and she pull in the bucks. The best thing is she always fall in love wid’ her Johns and want to marry them. She kinda spooky and a bit mental but she an English major and got her degree. I tell Mr. Adzhole I got just the women fo’ him and his whole face light up and I perceives he think I means me. I tell him it aint me but someone like me ‘cept she white like him. Then I sees tears wellin’ up in his maple syrup shade of eyes.
Then I says “No baby, I be married to Ol’ Fat Harold and I is not available.”
Then he say no wife of his would ever have to work like that and I tell him “The Life” is in my blood and I feels quite accomplished as I always gots my own money. The I tell him she be here at seven o’clock and I gone clean his damn house with the papers and clutter and dust and shit and them I also tole’ him I was gonna give him a bath and shampoo, and cut his tangled, damn hair.He balked at that and I say I once fucked Siamese twins and one liked it and the other didn’t. He the gay one. I told him I seen things that would scare the evil out of Dracula and that I had a kit of toiletries and did he have evening clothes, and we were goin’ to do it my way. Then I say be sure to tell her she pretty and sexy and that we gone go to market and git’ some fancy ass food, and the liquor store fo’ a coupla bottles of expensive champagne. And I tell him nobody perfect includin’ yours truly.

He done got a erection when I was bathin’ him in lavender/cucumber oils so I gives him a hand job. No offence to Tilly. I jes’ likes to please mens. Then Tilly arrive in a scarlet evenin’ gown with chinchilla shawl to try and hide the hump and she real sympathetic and start talkin’ bout Shakespeare and she say, “I am but mad, North northwest/ When the wind is southerly/ I know a hawk from a handsaw.” Shakespeare his favorite author, this I tole’ her and I tole’ I kick her in her bony ass if she fuck wid’ him. He a pathetic, sensitive human being who done had it hard in life. When I left they all up in each other’s face a kissin’ and a caressin’ and I thinks I better book it while he still got his dick in his pants. Three’s a crowd…sometimes. And this make me so happy. They got married come a month away. Yessir, Ol’ Matchmaker Wanda score one for Cupid and Venus.

The harshness of winter has not tamed my animal spirit for I am The Black Orchid, immortal and Bitch Extraordinaire. Cherish the memory of a red bird perched on a snowy branch of a tree or the quality of light filtering through icicles, or the brutal cold which makes you eyes tear. Worship all life brings you for you are impermanent.

Comes the rain, comes the thunder, comes the snow or hell and high waters, I shall survive, and so shall you. One does not always solve problems: sometimes one perseveres. Be stout of heart and no graceless, wilting flower, you. “Do not go gentle into that good night” said the poet, Dylan Thomas. “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

I can never die and so many lives have flashed across my mind’s eye. Caligula, all drunk and sweating like a hog, drinking the gushing blood of a baby lamb. I so hated that man and was a slave girl, anonymous and forlorn, forced to satisfy his morbid lusts. Sometimes, I imagine I still have his vulgar stench on my flesh. I was not as powerful then as I am now. I loved the boy king of ancient Egypt, Tut Than Kamen, so creative and a lover of beauty. Neferititi rivaled me in beauty yet it was doomed to fade like dew on a rose Carpe Diem, Darlings, Seize the Moment. And I knew the greatest man of all, Jesus Christ. His limpid brown eyes radiated a power and goodness I had never seen before then or now. I gave Him water as he hung on the cross and proffered food which he refused. The blood was sluicing down his face in the hot summer air and I felt a sense of loss so profound I thought my heart would leap out of my chest.

Time flies and that is the only constant in living. I remember the ancient Sphinx, the pyramids, Stone Hinge, all the marvels of the ancient world as if it were yesterday. Carpe Diem, time flies like a gentle, moon drenched maiden tip toeing across a clover laden meadow. It is not the destination, Darlings: it’s the journey. Thousands of sunsets have I basked in like a happy lioness. Yet it is not only the quality of light: It is the secrets lurking in the soft, misty darkness that matter.

I am genetically related to the cat family, as my mother, a tribal shaman, mated with a male lion and begat me, dying in child birth. My early years were spent with the pride of lions and I still have the taste for a fresh kill. Thus I emerged from her womb in rage and beauty, glutinous for life. In my eleventh year, Ibrahim, a wise old man, and a wizard, enticed me away from the pride of lions, and he taught me, Sanskrit, Greek, and Latin and all the ancient languages, and the wisdom of the ages.

I so enjoy the things of this world. The taste of a fresh banana to me is a form of happiness and I love the grapes burst forth in such sweetness on my tongue. I no longer eat meat though I do crave it. But I never eat to the full for I cherish the raw feeling of hunger. I cherish my lustfulness and engage often in sexual congress. I relish my acolytes in the act a of love, their jutting cocks, honeyed kisses and their tears after coming. I take about five a night. It’s not that they are deficient: strong, muscular and able bodied are they all. It’s just that my orgasm is like Krakatoa, too hot for mortals, like a wash of lava and ash. And I growl when I come and this sometimes frightens them. So, I disengage as I climax so as not to injure them with the violence of my sainted loins.

I am here to tell you to worship the gift of life. Sadness is merely an unrhymed cadence: free verse if you will. Drain not your friends with tears and woe for unhappiness is contagious. Keep a stout, heart, Ye Mortals, and relish every moment for the grave awaits, an old man with a sickle, and yellow eyes. Cheat him with your happiness. Life is Lush, my friends.

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CAROL ANN author of Poems of Thunder @ Amazon.com &BN.com

CATFISH JOE & DOUBLE, DOUBLE, TOIL & TROUBLE – a comedic character study of a black street preacher, a tough & tender man given to philosophizing about life

POEMS OF THUNDER (NOIR & WHIMSY) – Noir Poems of Tainted Love

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Y’al, this be Ol’ Wanda Lust, crack ‘ho. You aint heard from me in long a time. I been trickin’ and do’in my thang wid’ the mens. I done dressed up like a Nazi Commando and beat this guy’s ass wid’ a cat o’ nine tails. It were a tad bit ironic in the fact that Hitler aint have no real love fo’ blacks. Whatevah. Then I go wid this other freak name oF Roy, a big fat red neck and he got the Henry VIII thang where he cook food like roast beef, peas, and mashed taters and eat it off my body, and I got to act real mean and I sez, “You aint no king, You aint no king,” and he bawl his eyes out and say, “I am, too, bitch.” People be strange I tell ya. I be glad my hubby, Ol’ Fat Harold, aint no weirder than he is.

So Auntie Carol and Lady Lynda Got this Peppermint Love Agency and they helps all the po’ unfortunates and they wants me to help raise money fo’ the po’ people whut aint got no roof over they heads, food to eat, families evicted from they homes and crippled shut ins. They gets they clients from welfare. Some be mentally or physically handicapped sometimes. You know people whut think they got God and his holy angels singin’ in they left sneaker. They even got a full fancy kitchen where they feeds three meals to anyone who come in. They go glad handing all over the city and they got this one weirdo they ‘fraid to see but he Howard Hughes Kind of rich. They heard he was half spider or some shit. Gurl, I seen stranger thangs b’lieve me. Supposedly this guy got some kind of serious defect but he rich as Croesus.

So I goes to his high rise townhouse on Rittenhouse Square, and I be all dressed in my black leather jump suit to look professional. This Voo Doo type bitch answer the do’ and she act like I trash and I pushes past her like Dame Astor, thank ya very much. I don’t have no truck wid’ uppity bitches whut look like they got out of a open grave. Fuckit, I aint take no dissing from the help. Then I see him all dressed in a black three peace suit like some damn old black beetle. And he got six arms and they all do’in somethin’ different, Lord Mercy! And he said in this real scratchy voice, “No, I am not Vishnu,” and he crack hisself up. He git’ in a real fit of cackles. Now, I knows Vishnu is an Indian God and this man kind of a Capucchino color like an Indian. I knowed he wasn’t no white man and got an accent like Peter Sellers when he did his Indian comedy. I notice he got sharp pointy teeth covered with spider web and I looks around and sees he got spider web all over and books piled on top of books. And his fingernails all long and black as outer space and it were’nt painted on. He git’ up and push some books on the flo’ so’s I can sit down. I see one book which say “Arachnaphobia.” Phobia mean fear, I know that.

Sit here, Miss, You may call me Adzhole: As you already know my last name is Sillypeder. I understand you want me to help you with your charity. One of this hands was drumming on the couch while another while another tried to straighten his long tangled black hair. With a third he offered me some chocolate bon bons. “Take only two as I may have occasion to offer them again as I get a lot of visitors.”

I got real bold and asked if he was expectin’ someone else. He raised all his hands in the air and waved “No, no”. Shit, aint nobody come to see this man. I knowed it.

“No, but you can never tell, can you. After all you’re here aren’t you?” he queried giving me the most goofy smile I ever seen. He look like one of those yellow smiley faces or that Koolaid character, “goofy grape”.

I cuts sto the chase, “Given your vast fortune, we were thinking about one mil? What you say Mistah Adzhol?”

“I was thinking on $500,” he said handing me a wedge of tangerine and not the full fruit.”It’s always best to take less, for a balanced life. I live very simply, my Dear. And here’s a half bran muffin. We wouldn’t want to spoil that luscious figure, would we?”

I said, “You mean half a mil? We can work with that.”

“No” he replied, “ I was thinking maybe five hundred dollars. Money doesn’t grow on trees, young lady.”

“Mistah Adshol, “ That wouldn’t run the center for even one day. You sho’ could give a bit more, Pretty please wid’ cherries on it. Folks is sufferin’”

“Well, I think that is fair and sufficient. I live life very simply as you can see and one should conserve one’s resources as one can never predict when one may fall on hard times. Money is the root of all evil,” he retorted.

“ We know your estate is worth several billion. We know people in a real bad fix these days. Some aint even got a roof ovah they heads.”

“It’s because they didn’t manage their expenditures wisely. They lived over their means and I do not approve of dunderheads. Their life styles were too extravagant. I live life very simply.”

“Evah heah, the Auntie Mame quote, “Life is a banquet and most poor bastards are starving,” I said.

At that moment a tarantula alight on his shoulder and he proceed actin’ all normal like it aint no thang. I just had to tell him to git it off befo’ he git bit.

He smile and say it okay as it was jes’ “Ron”, a distant relative of his and he give me this dang ol’ creepy smile and I reminded of flies trapped in a spider web and I goes to check in my bag that I still got the straight edge. Then I perceives his eyes is glimmering with delight and he aint gone harm me none. He jes’ real lonely and starvin’ for attention.

Then I says, Lissen’ Mistah Adzhole, how bout’ we jes’ agree on 300,000 dollars and I come three times and git’ one hunnert thousand each time. It gone be a big tax break for you givin’ to charity. I spec’ I come back mo’ often jes’ to chew the fat wid’ ya. How ya like that?”

All his arms flews up in the air and he cackled. It was creepy really but in some weird way kinda charmin’ in a Peter Lorre kinda way. Wanda Lust, social worker. I do like that.
CAROL ANN writer of Poems of Thunder @ amazon.com & BN.com

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Lady Lynda and her paramour Seymour Toze carefully perused the community listings in the local newspaper as they sat on the Victorian style brocade magenta hued divan. Suddenly after perusing the various types of events one particular one caught their eyes. “Dare I deign to say its in Intercourse PA.
Its billed as the “World’s Cheapest Freak Show.” “Now everyone can enjoy a freak show like the golden days of the circus side show. Come One , come all.”
“Look what’s happening in “Intercourse PA” Lady Lynda said to Seymour. Seymour replies “Oh Lady Lynda I am aghast. I thought you wanted us to save ourselves for marriage. I developed my toe fetish as a compromise. To escape doing the disgusting but only if married, with you.”

“I meant the town of Intercourse PA. “

“Oh I am so relieved. What’s there?

“Reminds of the time we went to Brattleboro VT. There was a zoo with a full grown deer the size of a cat. There was a mini horse the size of a cocker spaniel. Awwww so cute. An male albino peacock, train and all. What gorgeous ruby red eyes.” There weren’t that many animals but what we saw were real stunners.”

“Oh I see, you’re presuming this exhibit won’t show that many differently formed folks but the one’s they will be real doozies.”

“You get the picture my sweet love? “Do you want to go?”

“I think I do. Remember last night we watched the 30s movie cult classic “Freaks” The one directed by Todd Browning who directed “Dracula” with Bela Legosi. From a story by Tom Robbins “Spurs” They were really freaky there. the half boy whose body stopped at the ribcage and the fat lady, the Siamese twin sisters who looked like they were stapled together, Daisy and Violet Hilton, the other Hilton sisters, the bearded woman, the ultra thin man, the pinheads, the He she and so many others. Oh those twin sisters were really close to each other. But not nearly as close as we are to each other. You know the fat lady reminds me the career counselor at the special school in Allentown told super fat Mike how as long as there was a side show he’d never fear unemployment. Do you know where the train schedule is?” “Yes I do” replies Lynda. With that she gets the timetable and they check it out.

They get to the Intercourse PA train station in ninety minutes. They notice plastered throughout the station and just outside it, posters for “The World’s Cheapest Freak Show.” The two check out one of them and they discover its a short walk from where they are.

“Well here we are the world’s cheapest freak show.” Let’s see if it lives up to its name”

They enter the exhibit. “I am really glad I’m here. Ever since I was little I was fascinated with freaks. When I was six my parents gave me a book with photos of a two headed turtle and two headed snake. I remember seeing “Ressurection” movie on TV and a little boy pets a two headed snake. “Speaking of snakes does that remind you of anything?” “I deign say so.”

The tape is narrated by the actress Megan Fox who was born with stubby thumbs. With her melliflous voice she explains that due to the economy the major freaks moved on. This is all the town can afford. She tells the listener to turn right and walk a few short steps to the first exhibit where a pleasant looking young man is standing. He is dressed in a dark brown wool blazer with a blue and white thin vertical striped cotton shirt. He is wearing Gap jeans. He wears clunky brown shoes with white socks. His nose is somewhat large but not so much to be disconcerting. Dark brown hair and eyes. Lady Lynda being too too shy to ask herself, asks Seymour to question him. Toze wanting to please his Lady Lynda inquires why he’s there. “Unfortunately I developed a deviated septum. The bone and cartilage dividing the two nostrils is crooked. Oh the terrible unfairness of an invisible disability. If I was crippled, blind, a hunchback people would understand. But no I had to be born with a physical deformity nobody would know unless I tell them. Its so terribly unfair.”

Feeling deeply sorry for him they leaves. Toze mentions he won’t sleep tonight thinking of that poor unfortunate soul.

Next they notice a tall stout woman singing from the opera “Die Kluge” best known for the Opera singer Elizabeth Schwartzkopf. Her composure, atttiude is overbearing. This time it’s obvious what her freakishness is. She is completely tone deaf. She wears the Valkerie helmet with upturned horns. The problem she doesn’t realize it and her voice booms as she walks through the exhibit hall. Lady Lynda remembers on every April Fool’s day her elementary school principal would play a recording of some society woman who gave free opera concerts who was as least as terrible a singer as the Die Kluge woman.

The twosome next entered the exhibit’s snack bar. They see a woman with crooked little fingers serving the tea. She tells them she is grateful the local voc. rehab hooked her up with her current employment. She told them she found her true calling. She was born the way she was so she could be accepted as a professional tea pourer. She tells them she was constantly being fired from her typing jobs because of being born with little fingers she was incapable of straightening out. She lets Lynda and Seymour know its medical term is “Camptodactaly”

All the while, while Lynda and Seymour and others are walking throughout the exhibition a woman constantly bumps into them. They try to steer her in the proper direction. But as they do so, no matter how many times they try to redirect her, she winds up right back bumping into them. They realize she is part of the show. She is the woman with absolutely no sense of direction. She wears brown leather and white saddle oxfords with white anklet a cotton flared skirt just below her knees, with an elephant prin, carnation pink long sleeved woolen top. Her posture is constantly leaning forward as if she is in a hurry. She wears thick horn rimmed tortoise shell glasses. Her features are pointy, sharp. She goes by the name of Molly Sue Pendergrass.

Next the two comes across a man with Texas accent. He is wearing a Stetson hat, mahogony red cowboy boots with gold spurs, a red , white and blue flannel shirt. On his shirt is a Nascar fan button. He wears Wranglers Jeans. He’s 6’3 and built. He’s rugged looking like a middle aged Clint Eastwood. His thick Texas twang is so exotic to the locals. He is seen as a fascinating curiosity. They’ve never seen anything like him. They presume he’s from some exotic land.

As they are about to leave Seymour Toze tries to get a feel of his ladyfriend’s buttocks. But Lady Lynda being the lady that she is, thwarts him every time he tries to cop a feel. But being a typical disgusting male , Seymour does what he feels what he must do. He is a man and he feels he needs to live up to his nature. He refuses to give up. He’ll get that buttocks feel from Lady Lynda yet. And then he’ll casually reach around to her curvy bossom.

Just then the local hermaphrodite noticed what Seymour is doing. The freak yells at him “Trying to get cop a feel. Look at those knockers at that babe.” Immediately next is a somewhat high pitched feminine voice saying ” How uncouth, you cad. Remember you’re dealing with a lady too.” In a deep manly voice “You manipulative bitch”

“You mind your own business you disgusting freak. I’ll tell you what you can do…. You can go fuck yourself.”

The freak of nature says” “Well that’s better than what you can do. You’re just jealous. I’m self contained”

“Lady Lynda is the one for me” responds Seymour Toze.

“Oh Seymour my hero. my dear, you are so clever”

“Thank you my darling. I think we’ve seen enough of this place. Let’s find our ways out of here so we can be together at last once more. “