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   Our

destiny

   must

certainly

be more

    than to

simply

   serve as

custodians

   of old

  ideas

    and

  time-worn

   tradition.


The old world is irrelevant.

The past is gone.

All there is left to do is ... let go.

The only thing that stands between present and future is revolution ... and the rapid generation of wonderful new ideas.

---  from a fine horse named Crinkle-Morton.

       A
  meeting
       of
    Art,
      Free
    Verse
      and
  Short
    Stories 
    sharing 
       slices
      of
  modern
      life.

One day a

Cave Dweller

    set out some

rocks to define

    an area of

    ground.


Then he said

‘This is MY land ... 

     stay off it!’


Did the

concept of

‘property

  ownership’

begin on this

      shaky

  foundation?


Just wondering.

Musings

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murmur had not yet melted into the order of a meeting when Franklin was seen to rise, chair and all, from the wooden floor, eight inches, then ten inches he rose, levitating until his legs dangled in thin air and a curious, empty space hung between the chair and the floor.  Sheepishly, he nodded with a thin smile.  The chair rotated 90 degrees, then moved effortlessly through the air, toward and out the open front door.

      A strange episode, indeed.  But merging with the convulsive times and the traumatic birth of the new nation, it evoked little lasting notice.  Franklin, like his peers, became known for more tangible feats.  By day, he flew low in his flying chair.  Just high enough to avoid ruts and the litter of Philadelphia’s byways.  By night, he was the explorer, soaring high over the crooked rooftops of old Philadelphia in silver moonlight.  Benjamin Franklin’s reasons for not sharing his Secret of the Flying Chair have baffled historians for two and one-half centuries.

© SRErwin