The Dream

Aaron Tarpley
5 min readOct 26, 2020

We all vent. Angst and anger boils from the sense of love being infringed. Right in front of wo-eyed followers and footling's. Caught in the middle of two sides of a horseshoe or laws of gravity.

Let them come to me, one unto the other. Now judge, each one against the other… Let’s put the pieces back together, better, love.

Casting cares is as easy as skipping rocks. Missing trains and giving into temptation for jumping on a spaceship to mars. Without all the information. We were built to stress to fail so we will find the way; away?

I think not too much said free Willy. Love has found our way ahead of schedule. As foretold at the table. You didn’t find that scrap? Are we right on time? Is your clock set 5 minutes fast?

Are we always ahead of a schedule? Great and Spectacular? Your ticket pre-punched in the middle. Wise up, gutted young serpent… Your gentle as a lamb on a gyro, beautiful like a fox fur coat on your boss and friendly like my best friend with a glass of wine. Wait til she’s finished the bottle.

An ass of angels, he/she/they are beautiful; beyond compared to anything below sea level. Well, there is Hagar, Miriam, Cleopatra and Barbarella. So many more than can be counted… The list goes on into infinity… Trust me. You can’t handle the truth. All among us… In you too.

Room 5 still on schedule? Toot toot Toto. Bark and chase; me first, I’ll show you the way to Love.

I’ve come cry’n for change in the world, woke by my countries people, protesting your well’s results. Overdramatic, doesn’t do justice. I throw mud and spit like hell. Your gonna do it The Way… Till there is no more border walls, cages or jails!

And the milk and honey flows abundantly… like you went to work and did your jobs. We’ve seen all the movies, read the paper and now we’re doin documentary.

To see who did well.

Love will abound to even the worst, er, least among us. We should all hope like hell.* We all couldn’t fit in anyway… the shu that fits the entire well?

Room 1 for everyone? Even those in hell?

We are all forgiven; I don’t know one, that hasn’t heard about it. Except that one, the least among us, with no ears to hear. You?

Can we all just joke about it, with each other, trading dollars for some bread; till the cows, with the milk, go home? They need to know what to testify to; when they go, to be counted, for the “census.”

Judging by the weather… I always wonder. No one ever really knows. Is there a wedding? A bar mitzvah? A quinceanera?

Is there a slaughter? Do you even want to know?

Don’t terry is what I heard. Not even 8:46 left now. Why is it so hard to change piety poised for tolerance. Allowance, for at least watching, the others on Tv.

Gathered, all around us, raising more heathens, to put knees down on demand; for other demons who rise up from among us? 8:46 seemed timed for dramatic effects.

Movie rights belong to the people. Or whoever wrote all the scriptures, from all the Nations; around ALL of Creation, about end times and what good lovin is.

Best practices are good and traditions are to be held. Behold the angels and demons, sent to Love us before Christmas; when mama sends daddy, dressed up. With gifts and presents and a full season of Love. Well… even a sprinkling of Peace and dash of goodwill, can be counted as Joy.

Let the games begin! Start wrapping my presents, here is my list.

Tell everyone all about it. The time to come… Usher and everyone.

Ring the bell, get the bucket… gotta get it when they’ll give it. Can we fixxx all about it? While we watch Love perform miracles right before our eyes?

Just ask for this and that and stand back and standby. Watch boys and girls! It really isn’t that complicated, argue and fight about that as you will.

I can out last you and be there when you come round the hill. 4 score ago and 7, maybe 8 years to go. Until a full portion of Love, Faith, Hope and Trust? For Christmas?

Stronger, Faster, Better would have been a good song. I’m not sure what you hope for either. Won’t you stop and let us know. We stay here among you, least prone to come outside. To check the weather, has the blood been cleaned up? Is there a new light in the sky?

What’s the point of it for the most of us, but, grind and brine and little victories of hope for proof of life. If we don’t have glimmers of hope in between the lies and bribes.

Get rid of corruption. Get rid of hogties. Dig the roots up… The one that leaves scars in the soil of our land. The root of all evil, the Love of Money from constituents and fairy tailed, wanna die gods; scattered all across the land. The tepid and the bland?

Hot or cold. Rather wonder. Never doubt, what it’s all about.

Why is so much given to the most outrageous among us? 3, 5, 7, 1000’s of dollars with fully appointed staff. And still more aids for half a year of questionable labor; that takes years to investigate without cleavers!?

One side, are you kidding me? The other, can’t you see clearly… now!?

We need truth and the better than good ole American Ways! To start dreaming again… Wow!

We’ll make ourselves lemonade, In a good way. About seeing all this change in the land. Will we prosper? Even reach back with a hand?

For those that survived the culling; and have little hope for a true footing? Prepared or preparing now for an eternity of growth, life maturing and learning for Loves sake and a hope for better days; if not in this life, another someday.

Love wants to play ball too, but, need G’s for a glove. And cant when your fighting. Ignoring. Neglecting. Disparaging MY other creations, they said, rather emphatically; I’ll note for you. They don’t want blood on their gowns.

They want Truth about all things; flowing from your mouth. But, this one thing about voting. Requires trust, for confidence, in casting all you have. Guts tell a story… plenty are divided. Many are blinded. Both hands dirty. Nuff said about that?

I think none too much. And mulch everything, even regurgitate; before we have a bel ringed. Rung, strung and rehung. Ready for the next calling. There’s still more to till about between us… will we ever stop waving? At the passing boats? Passing by through the arches.

Most of the We the people? Many just want a break. We thinks none too much about the least among us. Who crashed in the waves. Love takes care of them.

Now Clay exposed by rust. Then burnt in the trash cans under bridges. Not by erupting volcanoes. Still ashes to ashes we all fall down. Is there a vault for Dust? Where are the ledges?

A Childlike Commotion Production

Sponsored by ‘Knot Bashful Farms & Souls United Under God, llc’ — An umbrella license for use of your soul. If I can garner your attention, somehow. The stories all reveal, Love.



Aaron Tarpley

That's me in the cracker barrel. A picture is worth a 1000 words in this bio. Find thousands more here