“
that girl, a woman now, a legend now
has captured & carried away my soul somehow
“
Capt’n Chuck Fiddler
.
photo of Sandahl Bergman who co-starred in Conan The Barbarian (1982)
couplet from Afghaneeland an epic poem (2012) by Rawclyde!
post edited by Spitball Fury an extraterrestrial presently orbiting the Milky Way
https://www.youtube.com/@StatusCoup
episode 4
~~~
by Rawclyde!
~~~
Back at headquarters, in uniform & behind her desk
The legendary Col. Sheena Johnson nurtures Camp Jitterbug
The only US Army outpost left in Nuristan Province
An outpost that hums along for no reason & that rarely rhymes
~
When I knock she says “Come in” so I do
“How’s the radio station?” asks young Col. Johnson
“Quite well,” I reply, “And so is Camp Jitterbug”
The colonel beams with pride & incomparable beauty
~
Speaking of which, I continue to yammer
“We’ve figured out why you never get hit by a bullet
When the Taliban see you they fall in love so they miss”
She laughs “All men are my slaves I can’t help it”
~
Godly swirls of purple in the pale blue sky
Provide a rapid prelude to another eerie night
Red joins-up for the final dash
Venus does not appear at the rim of the hilly silhouette…
~~~
Copyright Clyde Collins 2013
~~~
The Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II
~~~
~
episode 16
Vagina Envy
~
Yes Sir, the villagers rebuild the mosque
With brick & mortar payed-for by the U.S. Army
Under the supervision of Col. Sheena Johnson
With Taliban breath on the backs of their necks
~
Her Taliban-fodder fiancé mixes the mortar
He & his fellow villagers lay the brick
Too soon, Sheena’s husband Habibullah is wanted dead or alive
In Haqqanni Network lairs high n’ low over Pakistan way
~
There’s a price on his head for lovin’ the beautiful colonel
Taliban bullets sing all around him, his old Taliban friends
Try with flaming sticks to burn out the eyes of his little brother
But in the nick of time Sheena kills them all
~
One of her tricks is to place 3 arrows
Against the taunt string of her bow held horizontally
Only Ollie’s bountiful sister-in-law can do it just right
She pulls the string way back under her chin
~
Before the arrows hit their mark she does it again
like she is the daughter of a machine gun
& that’s exactly what she is
So years ago she had to kill her father too
~
She has no choice, faced with such fearsome vagina envy
Her sleek arms get oh so sore but she doesn’t give up
She throws off her worn & faded yellow polk-a-dot burka
100 extra arrows in the quiver a hanging on her back
~
The village is surrounded by 100 & one Taliban
Nobody knows how she does it
At point-blank range the Talibanees jerk & they miss
At any range they fall in love and they miss!
~
~
(text copyright clyde collins 2015)
~
episode 20
Interlude
by
rawclyde
!
Taliban make merry with ample ammo & bullets dance
The Afghan National Army soldier pulls a cell phone out of
One of several pouches on his chest & dials collect
The other ANA soldier grinds his teeth
~
A stray bullet ricochets around in the empty cup in his hand
Luckily the cup is made of tin, not porcelain
Then the bullet stands up on the cup’s rim & starts singing
Which adds real & deep meaning to the drama
~
Everyone is leaning closer and closer toward the cell phone
The soldier with the little thing up against the side of his head
Makes amiable conversation, smiles a lot
Puts the phone away & says to the other soldier
~
“The captain says to wait a moment”
The other soldier rolls his eyeballs skyward & twiddles his thumbs
The woman in the yellow polka-dot burqa gets up off the old blanket
And floats back to her modest dwelling to replenish the tea pot
~
“What color were her eyes?”
“I believe they were blue.”
“Do you suppose she is the legendary woman?”
“Well, this is Pluckame, isn’t it?”
~
Yes, anything goes in Pluckame
You never know what’s going to happen nex’
Whether it’s a vote gone awry or a bullet in your eye
The invisible village up there on the mountain ridge
~
~
~
text copyright clyde collins 2015
~
Endless subterfuge becomes entwined in the Afghan run-off election
The Karzai government fires half the election committee
Replaces them with ballot-box-stuffing secret agents
Front-runner Abdullah Abdullah begins a protest movement
~
Ballot-box-stuffing secret agents?
Col. Sheena Johnson & her side-kick Mysterious Mamoodia
Two archers extraordinaire take articulate aim
From Capt’n Fiddler’s Sufi Bubble floating above Afghanistan
~
Hafiz Qari and Yousef Ahmadi
Stuff ballot boxes merrily in a tiny village
Lost in the outermost dusty districts of Afghanistan
In a village of 40 people 4000 votes for the runner-up materialize
~
Thunk! Yousef’s eyes pop out
He’s got a sudden headache, a split-second later is knocked out
An arrow stuck in the top of his head
Special delivery from Mahmoodia of Pluckame
~
Capt’n Chuck Fiddler’s Afghaneeland Sufi Bubble
Takes extraordinary strides across Afghanistan’s pale blue
Arrows rain-down on ballot-box stuffers, they’re all knocked out
& a big bubble of miracle heads-out over the sea
~
Can an impossible bubble like this make a difference?
Maybe in a head or two somewhere & that is all
God only knows how the ripples from one pebble thrown in a pond
Spread & spread across the universe!
~
Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II
Rawclyde
!
(Text Copyright Clyde Collins 2014)
~
by Rawclyde!
~
The brave people of Pluckame
Witness a convulsion of miracles in their village
In the wake of ex-Taliban Habibullah’s marriage to
Col. Sheena Johnson, errant U.S. Army
~
Habibullah’s resplendent wife via her inner ear is the recipient
Of the whispered guidance from afar of Saint Joan of Arizona
The reincarnation of Saint Joan of Arc
Whose trip from Mars to Earth is a tale in which we will not indulge here
~
~
I guess the exit of the U.S. Army out of Nuristan Province
And the mysterious return of the legendary colonel
Have expanded the probabilities of divine intervention
So that miracles occur one after another in Pluckame now
~
Such as the crash landing of yours truly
Capt’n Chuck Fiddler, retired U.S. Army
An artificial limb gone astray & my last leg broken
I lay in a coma and, alas, alive
~
In the corner of a back room in the humble home of the happy couple
Lay I in prostrate idiocy & miraculous survival & the ceaseless sacrifice
Of Habibullah’s cousin the unfathomable Mamoodia
Without her deft manipulations I would have died a long time ago
~
~
Lying in a seemingly endless coma I have managed to penetrate
The innermost laboratories of my dumb-ass brain to such a degree that
I have figured out how to miniaturize on a tiny magic carpet & fly
in & out of my left nostril to explore the doings of this household
~
Of course, flying around in such a remarkable state amongst the
Brothers, sisters, parents, grand parents, aunts, lost uncles, dug-up ancestors &
Other popping in & out neighborhood orphans of Habibullah’s household
I couldn’t help but get discovered by ~ rug rats!
~
Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II
~
archer art
~
text
Copyright Clyde Collins 2014
~
Old Timer Chronicle II 