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thesconesyard · 1 year ago

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Yeehaw!

When the Cactus Blooms

27. A Whole Heap of Trouble

McCoy opened his eyes and made to stretch, but something was holding him down and he couldn’t. For a second fear passed through him, but he quickly realized it was Scotty sprawled mostly on top of him. He let out a breathy laugh, and shoved gently at Scotty’s shoulder. He got a grunt in return as Scotty turned his face away.

“Alright,” McCoy said softly, amused.

Carefully he slid out from under Scotty and off the bed. Light was coming through the curtain as McCoy got himself dressed. He looked down at Scotty’s still sleeping form, and love rushed through him. It was a tight squeeze for both of them in the bed, but Scotty had been promising to fix that. He just had a few too many other things to work on at the moment.

“We’ve got work to do,” McCoy said, as he rested a hand on Scotty’s shoulder and gave another gentle shake. He made sure Scotty was at least mostly awake, then left the cabin.

Out in the early morning air, McCoy stretched again, before heading towards the stables. As he walked the back of his neck prickled. He reached a hand up and rubbed under his bandana, but the prickling persisted. He looked around carefully as he walked, a feeling of being watched rising in him. He glanced at the house but didn't see anyone looking out the windows.

The prickly feeling left when he entered the stables.

“Morning Honey,” he said as he entered the horse’s stall. He gave her a pat on the neck and she nosed at his pockets. “Gimme me a minute,” he laughed at her.

Soon enough he heard the others entering the stables and going about the morning chores.

After breakfast McCoy followed Jim and Spock to look over some of the cattle. The prickly feeling crept up his neck again. He rubbed at it and rolled his shoulders.

“Alright Bones?” Jim asked, looking over.

“Yeah,” McCoy grunted. “Just got the strangest feeling of being watched.” He looked around them, but saw nothing but scrubby grass, cattle and sky. A few trees too small to hide behind.

“There appears to be nothing but us and the cattle,” Spock said.

“I know,” McCoy snapped. His hand rubbed his neck again. “It’s the damnedest thing though.”

The feeling stayed with him all day. As long as McCoy was outside, he felt he was being watched. He knew how irrational it was. There was nowhere in the open pastures for someone to hide, and everyone was in and out of the house and buildings all day long.

“What is it Len?” Scotty asked as they sat together by the creek.

“I don’t know,” McCoy admitted slowly. “I’ve been on edge all day.”

“Well,” Scotty said in a low voice, “maybe we should do something about that.”

McCoy looked over with a grin. “Maybe we should.” He got to his feet and lowered a hand to help Scotty up. Together they walked towards McCoy’s cabin.

Trying to be subtle, McCoy couldn’t help but look around them. Voices could be heard from the porch, but not seen. His unease grew stronger. The moon hadn’t risen yet and the stars were only throwing faint light.

“Oh! How delightful.”

McCoy froze at the deep voice coming from the shadows of his cabin. Scotty’s hand tightened on his.

“It wasn’t hard to miss the pull between you both. How nice you sorted it out.”

“Harrison!” McCoy managed to choke out.

“Now, don’t do anything stupid,” John Harrison said as he stepped from the shadows. A gun in his hand was pointed at them. “No calling out or anything that would let the others know.”

“What- what are ye doing here?” Scotty asked in surprise. “Why are ye doing this?” He took a small step forward but stopped as John Harrison raised the gun.

“Why does anyone do anything?” Harrison bit out.

“You won’t get away with this Harrison,” McCoy threatened.

“Oh doctor, I don’t think you have much say in that. And it’s not Harrison. My name is Khan.”

“Well, Khan, you’re still only one person and there’s ten of us on this ranch,” McCoy said, putting as much bluster into his voice as he could.

“Doctor McCoy,” Khan said lightly as he stepped closer. “I’m not alone. My family is moving closer as we speak.”

“I don’t believe you,” McCoy stated. He took a step that put him in front of Scotty protectively.

Khan gave a light whistle and footsteps could be heard behind him. In a moment another man stepped out from next to the cabin. His gun was pointed at them as well. McCoy frowned as he thought.

“I’ve seen you,” he said to the second man, trying hard to remember where he had seen the man. “The poster in town,” McCoy said suddenly. “M- Mar- Marcus!” he exclaimed. “Wanted for murder.”

“Very good doctor,” Khan said sarcastically. He turned his head slightly towards Marcus.

“Everyone is in place,” Marcus reported.

“Good,” Khan said, triumph already in his voice. “Take these two in there and tie them up. They were already planning on getting close.” Khan smirked.

Marcus moved behind them and jabbed his gun into McCoy’s back. “Let’s go,” he said.

“This isn’t going to work,” McCoy told Khan as he passed him.

“I think you’ll be surprised,” Khan gloated.

McCoy held tight to Scotty’s hand as they entered the cabin. Just minutes ago they had been headed to it for a different reason. He could only hope Jim or Spock or one of the others noticed something was wrong before Khan could strike first.

#yeehawgust #day 27 a whole heap of trouble #star trek #leonard mccoy #montgomery scott #someone comes back #wonder who?#when the cactus bloom

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lunarfae714 · 8 years ago

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guatemaya & mecksiko

12.29 Atop Yaxha Pyramid

when we can measure our journey

in love shared,

found, exchanged?

instead of in fear of disease

hijack eyes of mania

panic

feeding-off-conflict

the beauty is known no ego

only offerings

can the love always be

charged like the Sun,

infinite, and changing

in each hour-

when does it become a service,

the exchange?

when can it be fully free

undrained, exuberant?

for yourself & for all

for the earth

for the wind

for all that is—

changing form

a leminascate

can it all be

selfless

words & actions,

are they enough?

like the rocks that love the water which kisses them,

the eternal dance

of stability & moving union.

***

after noon

soft dreams

downstream

count backwards

from twenty

& forth

until the numbers dissolve

facts turn to feeling

& the border boxes break free

natural & unseen

patterns yet changing

each non-moment still

like pre-dawn’s cirrus

the dance like curtain

unfold away lights

strong-

the elements

burnt sun

ice water

really

feeling it all

full

heart

full

mind

full

nothing

as it should BE

always still

& moving

seed to harvest

sow

in to morrow

with Love’s light

blasting

1.17.16

amethyst

charged

emerald & selentine

dreams directed

by the mind’s wind

candlewax drip

fixed on fingers

the torch lights

our nightcrawl

naked under the quarter moon

& the river runs high

poison toads

& branches that split,

graze under the soles

night becomes dawn

time told by Sky

the visions change in Ember’s logs

consume gadgets not necessary

almighty mother fire force

acts, destroys, creates

our womb ignite

as we place hot stones on our sacral chakras,

active the living unacknowledged children

the family of us

the natural

All living as one.

water pulleys from the creek,

the new flow.

the same water near passes

over our feet twice

our collective feeling,

on solid foundations.

***

when I’m alone

& write poems

of travelers notes

how real addictions can be

to communication

sugar from the parasite

all the world addicted to the white mans crystal

ancient ruins of conquest

how to get away

from conquerer mentality?

can we remove ourselves from history?

why do we capture another?

separate, control, dominate

trapped in the material system

material hunger

we are spiritual beings

meant to live like plants

will it disappear as the bombs go

the few who print the papers

the chemicals & vaccines

police and sex tourists

drag us where?

the north and south pole

on the same earth.

morning meditation on the river dock

silver smokerings oscillate

tubes of ashes fall

the air moves east

& the river rolls west—

wind & water

frankincense & appelblauwzeegroen

their dance

smooth & constant

like thoughts dancing along the rivers

(background noise is all)

no use to anticipate

the next moment

or dwell

the past moment

who you were

what you said

what you thought

what you felt

meaningless

when we live in the mind

in our fears, pain, or planning

we will miss the sweet kiss

of wind on our lips,

the first sip of coffee, bitter

the way the monkeypod shines crimson

gleams bark in the noon sun,

the glory in taking a inhale deep

in tune with the sway of the trees,

you may not see

the makeshift fishingrod

of sticks & shells

the bearded fishermans tailored pants

beside me on the dock

what are we trying to catch?

how simple to speak in silence

when we are at peace,

knowing we swim through these bodies

beyond our crown

beneath our feet

complete

in the profound simplicity

of stillness.

***

day mares

1.7.16

cold breeze & hard nips

a woman sings go ask alice

and the naked children shushing me

under fallen ladders ex-lovers

with newfound company locked

out of the room of togetherness

outside, the observer watches

the time

a stolen wristwatch

a sun blistered lip,

salty like sea waves

& bad barganing

what golden melancholy brings

an even pace a meditation

a clearing of nebulous brain lobes

rotten with acid washed

down gopher holes

bruised & fallen tangerines

which do we shape shift into

focus our energy our hearts

we can be the potted plant

or are we already,

and who is the gardener?

****

san marcos sound wave

lights across the lake, starry

dogfights in the calle

endless & ghastly

cries of infants constant

like crickets

& fireworks

thrown reckless

like the piles of shit

scattered on cement

trumpets & flutes

balancing cop cars on fire

across the lake

peace in the balance

of turquoise caldera

the mother lake

has waves.

when i heard pretchel speak of

the navel—

bellybutton of the earth

blood sacrificed from the

hard hits

deep fingered

dirty regrets

just to sleep in a bed

away from the nightmares shadow/work

9-5 & 5-9

what a way to pass the time

we jump off the piers onto boats

trembling volcanos make our circles as we

kiss on the mouth

bless the food

break the blender

pull the Devil

karma

as orange the Sun understand

could twist that way

pure BLISS the goddess

we are all a part of

perfect nothingness

nonetheless

i am you

are me

what i do to you

i do to me

when i pour out my mind

like lemonade

the sun shines through

shitshow brigade

body ecstasy

outside the body

we were born as two

we were born without shoes

without the navel of the earth

that keeps

pulling us back.

***

friends with scorpions

the all-knowing scorpion

aliens

why do they return

to the same places

same beds like

second-time lovers

who think they can get by

hiding beneath your pillow

while you wonder in silence

what it will take to be strong

amid Surprise

5.18

sleep paralysis

& dead drunks on the sidewalk

brains hanging loose over

puddle of blood sangria

faerira any excuse

to drink to death

feel the pain in my kidneys

free the beating heart parasite

pulse in my body

pulse in my pulse

in my despair,

mary oliver’s wild geese sing,

tell me of yours

i will tell you mine

tell me why the shadow man

comes at the coldest part of night

sun rise before

we rise too

pretend these bodies

will keep us going

and the wind will carry us

in the way she pleases

living to die noble

or living humbly?

***

6.20

sweetwater

the little pleasures-

to graze my tongue along a frozen mango

perfectly ripe

deep orange, unique & so sensual,

craving union with the mouth

to remain nude all day in the jungle

to dance wildly to a drumbeat capable of visioning

to hear ruiz shout the problems of the mind

to think of life outside misery

to cook granola on the fire

to free the lice eggs from my head

to view problems as roadblocks

water-filled potholes choose

how to get through and admire the turtle.

reptilian overload

to see the birth of the day—

the fresh black baby chick

bounce under mamas wing

to roam freely & pick cactus spikes

to prepare dinner

all when the negativity has stepped out.

***

jellyfish regenerate, they are the aliens of the sea.

how to live naturally, harmoniously

here i am, meant to

reflect the fucked up system i am from,

to encourage others to return to the land.

wake up & work together

return to simplicity

not selfishness, pleasure & comfort

we meet the right people at the right time.

truth comes in action & awakening

not the the illusion of movement

or perception deception.

thank you iyke

***

not feeling

vs. feeling it all

meant to ascend

& experience nothing

do you love rollercoasters

or are we?

poems hidden in moleskins

in a sugar-addicted consumer country

malnutrition consciousness

school teachers in system to know the enemy

there’s a reason why the madmen cooped up in the jungle

away from us all

& there’s a reason why the city folk stay cooped up in concrete,

swarm like fish, absorbed in screens & button

virtual reality, where Gaia Mama

shows her pubes in remote rooftops

the belief in the debt coins & papers

manifest by three generations of puppeteers.

And yet-

who feels more alive?

i see the frustrated alien bacteria control the game

war mentality,

beheading kittens

craves community-

yet blows them away with the word vomit violence.

hate the system, know the system

to use the system,let the system

control how much can we control?

how much will outside stimuli satisfy?

busy consume interweb-reliant

instantly gratified

forget what is really gratification, blessings

how many systems

no different species

we are infinite,

nonlinear time

no reptiles control

don’t get caught up in the spiderweb of the world

who weaves your dreams?

the spiders body, lemniscate

forever expanding

intend, manifest, unchain, let be.

you hate poetry because it doesn’t move fast enough

& paints a portrait too pretty

unknowing that scenery

& the white spaces

speak and move in in ways

the human body could never.

spinning in the cycle of earthly life

creatures on the wheel, darwin

hired to tell us dog-eat-dog

& win not work together

lets separate for power & call it evolution.

but we eat too. we eat chemicals in candy

the white man’s crack, let memory be a hard drive

in the computers of our minds.

backpacker dilemma

live in love

live to get high

live in fear

live to die

live to live

***

morning coffee with crazed

one way to wake up.

irony of sitting & talking

the real parasite the defeat of pessimism

when truth speaks

don’t be insulted

swimming in sweat

in the mexican sun

caked dirt

being in isolation

makes one angrier?

lonelier?

working together

the real solution

instead of believing

in the money go-round

that separates us in our boxes

our safe.

in a meat-excessive society

to fight, kill, invade

poison the food

control the water

damage the sea

leak nuclear waste

when free energy

could fix it all?

ets walk, step by step,

mindful

in our place

in the evolution

of being, aware

of control, corruption

of our ripple, on ourselves

into the universe and under the stars.

remember what hicks said,

we are all expressions of the same ocean

6.16

each day i’m asked by a mexican man

why I’m traveling alone

they don’t understand

im not alone

last weeks companion

a parasite in my gut

and now i have a family of lice on my head.

eggs waiting to watch

you see

i attract the finest suitors to share myself with

you wouldn’t think they wouldn’t want to join me

as i walk for hours in vernal Mexican sun

eating only fruit

living away from traditional travelers

caught in the system

on vacation oil their money runs out

drinking their way along the hostel road

sightseeing the hits of their tourist books

you are your surroundings

you are your environment

express the unique wave

you image yourself to be

all your beliefs

shaped by stimuli, external

reflections

pregnant in the dreamscape.

fast-paced taqueria tales

i find it silly to spend much money on myself

pay the price of locals

& sit at the tamale stand

on the street corner

with teens and papas

& saucy mujer server

(always love that central american women are not afraid to laugh at you)

behind the counter like a dealer

in the casino of the calle.

bright lights

of the coke machine behind her

& bad television, sports that fuel the town

in the sugar-addicted novella.

division as entertainment.

hit me.

another tamale strikes the bar

with swift hands,

the 40 peso workday

soft camote sleeps in a bed of corn

under a blanket of hot sauce.

hit me.

a week of accidental fruitarianism.

can’t stand the heat

reptilian land

a far walk to the village

flesh-eating bacteria going around

the one who passes gives me a ride

with shotguns in the backseat

he eyes it & grins,

“are you scared?”

today a gang member

tattooed tears under his eye

in an iron blue shirt

large bodyguard

working the tourist turtle beach

like a chessboard

eyescans

hustling at the entrance

to watch all who come & go

like prey. he lent me

his nephew’s jacket

from his swanky rick roller

family car

and thought about

the slice of cheesecake in the dumpster

you can find sweet things hiding

in all corners of the earth.

pat watches as papayas

do the reverse-rainbow dance

satisfied, self-reliant

as the green parrots pass

& a new pair of eyes

hatch from the egg.

meanwhile, the masses dive

in binary systems

of separation, run the wheel of the money-go-round

chew on the potent chemicals,

live inside cement boxes,

domesticated mice working for money-driven madmen

but

since time isn’t linear

& the seeds have been planted

what you seek

is seeking you

in the karmic cycle

of non-attachment

non-aversion

true action.

with steady hands,

a quiet mind,

patience

you’ll watch the earth

return to tribe or die.

flora teaches us

to honor what’s growing

follow new life

all realities created

christmas eve in the mayan jungle

mules do the pleasure bankroll not he dirt

as the rainbow scale turkeys peek aimlessly from the forest

the jaguar stalks the deer behind us

& the howler monkeys do the tree-top tango.

their call like a lion

i practice the guitarita

watch makeshift football

& lazing hammock brothers sway

blistered soles from miles of dirt deep

treks through mosquito village

i miss my blood family

yet present with my tree family.

my ancestors in their mysteries

corn & snake gods

modern looters & night guards

body full like the moon,

blood sacrifices and love rituals on the jaguar pyramid,

solstice of the waves of this recycled life

of forgiveness.

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