Skip to main content

A Poetic Short Story - B-17 Preflight... by Adolfo!

 B-17 PREFLIGHT

By Adolfo...






I
There is no dreaming
In the world of Sigmund Freud,
Only dreams interpreted
By pseudos
And other psychiatrists
Devoted to fulfill
The gullibility of those
Finding answers in dreams
As though Life were a dream
And vice-versa,



The truth being
That without dreaming,
There'd be no dreams
And,
Only death instead of life
With no continuity
From the conscious to the unconscious
Of our existence,
Dreaming being only
A chemistry without biology!




II
In the third phase of preparing 
The B-Seventeen for another flight,
This young couple stood by--
Hardly looking at the aged bomber
Being prepared for a spcial flight
(A payload of human cargo)--

As they embraced and kissed,
In a world of their own
Free of war machines
Or battles with killing fields,
Enraptured in their kisses
In a harmonious correspondence,
Broken by yours truly:

"Wearing a Harvard shirt?"
"Yes!" he said, surprised
By the intrusion.--
The young woman with almond eyes
Staring at him adoringly
In complete silence
And following each of his syllables
From his gleeful mouth,

And not one single glance for me!

"Adolfo! Margherita called
From the head of the group
Under engine number four;
And in no time
We moved into phase four.



III

Wondrous dreaming was never better
That night,
Invigorated by the whirling fan
Infusing the air
With human spirits
Caressing our skin
In re-generating
Our bodies at resting positions
Unaware of our dreaming.


The commanding look 
Of the almond-eyed girl,
Her mouth touching mine,
and the immediate compulsive:

"I love you!"

Words out of my mouth
By a spirit or siren--
Not my own!

She moved her lips to mine
And to a sudden awakening.

Unexpectedly astir,
I moved my hand to Margherita.
I fell into
Her bountiful arms,
And love-making
Was never as sweet
As it was blissful
Especially now
At seventy-four!
!!!




!Hey This was Adolfo's Dream Not Mine--I had to substitute!
!Besides I've never even met them--Discretion Seemed to Be the Right Choice!


Used by permission from Adolfo
   AND Margherita

This is a selection from

Water and Life:
Photos and Poems
By Adolph Caso

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Advocate Joan Price Provides Senior Erotica...

c. 1800-1803 (Photo credit: Wikipedia ) "You are so beautiful! Your hair is shining. You have a beautiful figure! You feel so good in my arms! I missed you so much! I love you to no end! Let's make love right now!" "Just like a typical guy years younger, Max is always ready to go before I am. "I am so horny," he whispers hoarsely into my ear. I smile, enjoying his eagerness... "I want to kiss you all over," he mumbles into my neck as his hands begin to roam... "There's something I want to do, and I hope you will allow me." he begins, rather formally... "I want to kiss you all over and lick your vagina!" "I gasp, feigning shock. "I'll let you as long as you do it as long and as thoroughly as you did last week." "We did it last week?" ~~~ Ageless Erotica Edited by Joan Price I met Joan on line a number of years ago when she was writing a book. Finding her name in my files, I we...

The Harbinger - Continued Reading... Have you become Interested?

Nuriel Kaplan has convinced the individual to whom he is pitching his book... and she is willing to listen... “All right, Nouriel. Tell me about your mystery.” “It’s not my mystery. It’s much bigger than me. You have no idea how big, or what it involves.”  “And what does it involve?” “Everything. It involves everything, and it explains everything…everything that’s happened, that’s happening, and everything that’s going to happen.”  “What do you mean?”  “Behind September 11…” “How could an ancient mystery possibly have anything to do with September 11?”  “An ancient mystery behind everything from 9/11 to the economy…to the housing boom…to the war in Iraq…to the collapse of Wall Street. Everything in precise detail.” And it’s not only a mystery, it’s a message, an alarm.” “An alarm?” she asked. “An alarm of what?”  “Of warning.” “To whom?”  “America.” “Why?” “When you hear it,” he said, “you’ll understand why.”  ~~~ OK, how good are ...

Emotionally Damaged: Living With Job Burnout - The Beginning - Open Memoir

...a lazy afternoon and my Sunday night shows, especially Madam Secretary have been replaced by ballgames! A shame! I knew something was wrong... It was Saturday and I was home alone... Mom had died and there was nobody to see me cry.... It had been going on for some time. I knew I needed somebody to talk to. I called Nancy, friend and our choir director, who also worked wher e I worked and I thought she could better understand what I needed to say...But she didn't answer... I called my Pastor. He and his wife came, it seemed quickly, and as soon as they came toward me, I cried, "Pray for Me..." I didn't hear any of their words, though. It seemed like one part of my mind was watching...watching the scene of my crying while the Pastor prayed. At the end of the prayer, they started to talk to each other, saying things like, she certainly needs help... For me, I couldn't seem to think coherently to form sentences. I felt like I was in a daze. Then I heard my ...