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Islamic State fighters have found themselves in heaven (Jannah) after heavy street fighting. To their surprise they find that there are many impure undesirables in heaven and they decide they must try to reestablish their Caliphate in heaven.

How old. How long ago. The numbers were shorter and most people's in the book then, and in the abyss of afternoons you swam through at that age,...

you hear some music in your mind you want to give it breath if there's no notes on paper it will die a lonely death . a tune relies on instruments...

This yarn is a fabric woven of several earlier warped works, lightly laced together with fur-ther braided tales of human frailty. The looms were loosed, purling frantically this febrile fable Some pearls may be found wanting - unwanted or unwonted - piled or hang ing loose, dangling free within a fuzzy flight of fancy The threads of this untethered tissue may be fastened, or be forgotten, or else be stranded by the readers and left unravelling in the knotted corners of their minds 'twill be perchance that some may laugh or lool in loopy stitches, else be torn or ripped apart, while others may just simply say ‘ 'tis made of hole cloth’, ‘sew what’ or ‘cant seam to get the needle point’ yes, a proper disentanglement may take you for a spin on twisted twines of any strings you feel might need attaching or detaching picking knits, some may think that such strange things ‘have Never happened in our Land’ such quaint things ‘could Never happen in our Land’’ such murky things ‘will Never happen in our Land’’ and this may all be true , if credence be dis-carded such is that gooey gossamer that vails the human mind and thus was born the teasing title of this fabricated Fantasy: NEVER LAND

An excerpt from my blog "Comments From the Blue Corner". I don't normally do this, but I thought this section was particularly interesting and thought-provoking.

"How many times do I have to tell ya, Betty? Ain't ain't a word." "Sorry, Mr. Danger. Let me repeat myself at the risk of soundin' de ja viewic." "De...

Only the soft chaff, drifting slowly, across the wheatfield..

Ah Me !Ah My! Grandpa yearns for days gone by...now he's pushing seventy two there's much we have to help him do, Dad said that it would be just, if...