Archives For October 2015


U.S. Navy finds wreckage believed to be missing cargo ship El Faro


Brian Johnson was not injured in the attack in Cocoa Beach, Florida

Boston Red Sox Pitcher Carjacked at Gunpoint


Since the publication of Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” in 1897, vampires (aka mystical beings that subsist by feeding on the life essence of living creatures) have been part of our popular culture


Gruesellia©

Copyright 2015

By Felina Silver Robinson

Gruesellia was a girl like any other girl

Despite her mole covered face,

Scarred scaling skin

And hunching back

Her heart beats as fast

As any other

Her dreams toss about

Her cobwebbed filled head

While tears of loneliness drip down

Her torn dirty dress

She stands alone for her smell

Is so foul not even the scariest of

Goblins or ghouls will stick around

The sun dares not to follow

Leaving scary dark clouds as her only companion

How could love dare come around

But to her surprise

The sun did rise

Sending the clouds packing

As her prince came a walking

Before she could scatter

To hide her hideous appearance

She felt the softness of his lips

Upon her mole covered face

Slowly but surely

Her hideousness began to disappear

Her eyes quickly filled with cheer

Which is something she had never known

The prince slowly began to whisper

Into her ear

The words

I’ve always loved you

Her face cracked a smile

So large it hurt

No longer did her tears burn

As they rolled down her face

For the moles were no longer present

Gruesellia continued to wipe away her tears

Where only soft clear skin did lie

The gleam in her eyes made birds fill the sky

No longer was she gruesome

Now before the young prince

Stood a fair maiden

Who would soon become his bride

Proving once and again

That love finds its way

Into all a deserving heart


Creepy Crawlers©

Sitting in a chair in the corner of a dark room

It’s quiet and I’m all alone

I hear the floor boards talking to each other

Something seems to be crawling slowly up my left leg

I slap my leg as if a fly was upon it

The slight sting brings a little pain

My mind goes back to the sound of the talking floor boards

The wind smacks branches against the stained window

Something howls out yonder

Suddenly the hair at the nape of my neck stands firmly

The room is suddenly cold

So cold I see my breath before me

Now sitting opposite me is a woman

A tall slender woman now smiles back at me

Her eyes are darkened but her hair is gleaming

Suddenly something comes creeping out of the right side of her mouth

She starts laughing and falls to the floor

And the red dress she was wearing lies empty on the floor

The dark room is darker no more

The coldness has been replaced with warmth

The creepy crawler slithers through the small hole in the window

The wind is now absent as is the beastly howling

and I feel safe again

—————————————————————————————

Happy Halloween Everyone

I hope you enjoyed “Creepy Crawlers©”

by Felina Silver Robinson


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

King John

A

CT III, SCENE I. The French King’s pavilion.

Enter CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and SALISBURY

CONSTANCE
Gone to be married! gone to swear a peace!
False blood to false blood join’d! gone to be friends!
Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces?
It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard:
Be well advised, tell o’er thy tale again:
It cannot be; thou dost but say ’tis so:
I trust I may not trust thee; for thy word
Is but the vain breath of a common man:
Believe me, I do not believe thee, man;
I have a king’s oath to the contrary.
Thou shalt be punish’d for thus frighting me,
For I am sick and capable of fears,
Oppress’d with wrongs and therefore full of fears,
A widow, husbandless, subject to fears,
A woman, naturally born to fears;
And though thou now confess thou didst but jest,
With my vex’d spirits I cannot take a truce,
But they will quake and tremble all this day.
What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?
Why dost thou look so sadly on my son?
What means that hand upon that breast of thine?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Like a proud river peering o’er his bounds?
Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?
Then speak again; not all thy former tale,
But this one word, whether thy tale be true.

SALISBURY
As true as I believe you think them false
That give you cause to prove my saying true.

CONSTANCE
O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow,
Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die,
And let belief and life encounter so
As doth the fury of two desperate men
Which in the very meeting fall and die.
Lewis marry Blanch! O boy, then where art thou?
France friend with England, what becomes of me?
Fellow, be gone: I cannot brook thy sight:
This news hath made thee a most ugly man.

SALISBURY
What other harm have I, good lady, done,
But spoke the harm that is by others done?

CONSTANCE
Which harm within itself so heinous is
As it makes harmful all that speak of it.

ARTHUR
I do beseech you, madam, be content.

CONSTANCE
If thou, that bid’st me be content, wert grim,
Ugly and slanderous to thy mother’s womb,
Full of unpleasing blots and sightless stains,
Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious,
Patch’d with foul moles and eye-offending marks,
I would not care, I then would be content,
For then I should not love thee, no, nor thou
Become thy great birth nor deserve a crown.
But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy,
Nature and Fortune join’d to make thee great:
Of Nature’s gifts thou mayst with lilies boast,
And with the half-blown rose. But Fortune, O,
She is corrupted, changed and won from thee;
She adulterates hourly with thine uncle John,
And with her golden hand hath pluck’d on France
To tread down fair respect of sovereignty,
And made his majesty the bawd to theirs.
France is a bawd to Fortune and King John,
That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John!
Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn?
Envenom him with words, or get thee gone
And leave those woes alone which I alone
Am bound to under-bear.

SALISBURY
Pardon me, madam,
I may not go without you to the kings.

CONSTANCE
Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not go with thee:
I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
For grief is proud and makes his owner stoop.
To me and to the state of my great grief
Let kings assemble; for my grief’s so great
That no supporter but the huge firm earth
Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit;
Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.

Seats herself on the ground

Enter KING JOHN, KING PHILLIP, LEWIS, BLANCH, QUEEN ELINOR, the BASTARD, AUSTRIA, and Attendants

KING PHILIP
‘Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day
Ever in France shall be kept festival:
To solemnize this day the glorious sun
Stays in his course and plays the alchemist,
Turning with splendor of his precious eye
The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold:
The yearly course that brings this day about
Shall never see it but a holiday.

CONSTANCE
A wicked day, and not a holy day!

Rising

What hath this day deserved? what hath it done,
That it in golden letters should be set
Among the high tides in the calendar?
Nay, rather turn this day out of the week,
This day of shame, oppression, perjury.
Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child
Pray that their burthens may not fall this day,
Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross’d:
But on this day let seamen fear no wreck;
No bargains break that are not this day made:
This day, all things begun come to ill end,
Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change!

KING PHILIP
By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause
To curse the fair proceedings of this day:
Have I not pawn’d to you my majesty?

CONSTANCE
You have beguiled me with a counterfeit
Resembling majesty, which, being touch’d and tried,
Proves valueless: you are forsworn, forsworn;
You came in arms to spill mine enemies’ blood,
But now in arms you strengthen it with yours:
The grappling vigour and rough frown of war
Is cold in amity and painted peace,
And our oppression hath made up this league.
Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjured kings!
A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens!
Let not the hours of this ungodly day
Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset,
Set armed discord ‘twixt these perjured kings!
Hear me, O, hear me!

AUSTRIA
Lady Constance, peace!

CONSTANCE
War! war! no peace! peace is to me a war
O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame
That bloody spoil: thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward!
Thou little valiant, great in villany!
Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!
Thou Fortune’s champion that dost never fight
But when her humorous ladyship is by
To teach thee safety! thou art perjured too,
And soothest up greatness. What a fool art thou,
A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear
Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave,
Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side,
Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend
Upon thy stars, thy fortune and thy strength,
And dost thou now fall over to my fores?
Thou wear a lion’s hide! doff it for shame,
And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs.

AUSTRIA
O, that a man should speak those words to me!

BASTARD
And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs.

AUSTRIA
Thou darest not say so, villain, for thy life.

BASTARD
And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs.

KING JOHN
We like not this; thou dost forget thyself.

Enter CARDINAL PANDULPH

KING PHILIP
Here comes the holy legate of the pope.

CARDINAL PANDULPH
Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven!
To thee, King John, my holy errand is.
I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal,
And from Pope Innocent the legate here,
Do in his name religiously demand
Why thou against the church, our holy mother,
So wilfully dost spurn; and force perforce
Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop
Of Canterbury, from that holy see?
This, in our foresaid holy father’s name,
Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.

KING JOHN
What earthy name to interrogatories
Can task the free breath of a sacred king?
Thou canst not, cardinal, devise a name
So slight, unworthy and ridiculous,
To charge me to an answer, as the pope.
Tell him this tale; and from the mouth of England
Add thus much more, that no Italian priest
Shall tithe or toll in our dominions;
But as we, under heaven, are supreme head,
So under Him that great supremacy,
Where we do reign, we will alone uphold,
Without the assistance of a mortal hand:
So tell the pope, all reverence set apart
To him and his usurp’d authority.

KING PHILIP
Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.

KING JOHN
Though you and all the kings of Christendom
Are led so grossly by this meddling priest,
Dreading the curse that money may buy out;
And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust,
Purchase corrupted pardon of a man,
Who in that sale sells pardon from himself,
Though you and all the rest so grossly led
This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish,
Yet I alone, alone do me oppose
Against the pope and count his friends my foes.

CARDINAL PANDULPH
Then, by the lawful power that I have,
Thou shalt stand cursed and excommunicate.
And blessed shall he be that doth revolt
From his allegiance to an heretic;
And meritorious shall that hand be call’d,
Canonized and worshipped as a saint,
That takes away by any secret course
Thy hateful life.

CONSTANCE
O, lawful let it be
That I have room with Rome to curse awhile!
Good father cardinal, cry thou amen
To my keen curses; for without my wrong
There is no tongue hath power to curse him right.

CARDINAL PANDULPH
There’s law and warrant, lady, for my curse.

CONSTANCE
And for mine too: when law can do no right,
Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong:
Law cannot give my child his kingdom here,
For he that holds his kingdom holds the law;
Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong,
How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?

CARDINAL PANDULPH
Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
Let go the hand of that arch-heretic;
And raise the power of France upon his head,
Unless he do submit himself to Rome.

QUEEN ELINOR
Look’st thou pale, France? do not let go thy hand.

CONSTANCE
Look to that, devil; lest that France repent,
And by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul.

AUSTRIA
King Philip, listen to the cardinal.

BASTARD
And hang a calf’s-skin on his recreant limbs.

AUSTRIA
Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, Because–

BASTARD
Your breeches best may carry them.

KING JOHN
Philip, what say’st thou to the cardinal?

Come back on 11/01/15 and join me for more fun with Shakespeare’s “King John”


Why Don’t You Dance? by Raymond Carver

Side Note from Felina Silver Robinson: Raymond Carver tells an odd story of an old man selling his belongings and the family that buys much of it and the relationship that bonds them despite the odd feelings that it brings them.

More About The Writer: Raymond Carver

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