12 Jan 2017 Deaths of Siggy and Aselthan (Season 3 Vikings), Dreams of fighting robots, Der Morgen Stadt – The Tomorrow City (short story I wrote back in 1985)

Hello to you family.  How are you?  I won’t complain because it doesn’t help anything does it?  I was thinking about what to write today and was kind of stumped.   Last night we watched Season 3 of Vikings and were already sad Siggy died and now Aselthan!  Both deaths were heart-breaking!  We both cried.  Afterwards I had to go outside and spend some time with the bright full moon and music to calm down before trying to go to bed!  This show is so well written and acted and I can tell that by how I can remember their names and I care about what happens to each of them good or bad.


May the long time sun
Shine upon you,
All love surround you,
And the pure light within you
Guide your way on.

kundalini yoga – farewell blessing

I did have some interesting dreams last night.  I can remember snippets.  I dreamt about two female robots.  One of them was designed with human sentience and the other entirely artificial and they had a fight.  I can remember seeing them fighting down to nothing but their torso’s on the ground and the one with human sentience was holding the artificial one and yelling at it, “Show me your eyes!!!”  The artificial robots eyes moved after she said that.  I guess it was the best way to determine if there was still “consciousness” in the artificial bot.  Then there was dreaming of walking in a park and finding a watch and picking it up and putting it on a table so the person who lost it could find it but then seeing a penny in a pool of water and reaching in and taking it out.  This dream flowed to being with a young man with very red hair and our talking about nobody taking him seriously.  He mentioned something about changing his hair color to peach or something and I suggested more blonde and he was excited about that.

Anyhew lol….

Next is a short, apocalyptic style story I wrote many years ago and for some reason I am “prompted” to share it again.  Don’t take anything for granted is the message that comes to me with revisiting it.  Not even one tiny thing…..do not take this earth, the creatures that share it with us,  anyone or anything we love for granted or assume they will always just “be there.”  One wrong spin of the wheel for this earth ship and there will be silence. 

Der Morgen Stadt – The Tomorrow City

(Jackie Schmidt – 1985 or 1986)

Smoke and haze drifted from the cities beams that now were charred black and barely standing. The city sky resembled a white paste; the sun could not be found. A lone, dazed figure, a poet, walked slowly through the smoldering buildings; a meager representation of the city’s past.

Oh what a spectacular site the city used to be. It’s buildings polished, it streets swept, it’s people broad smiled and proud. Yes, what a beautiful place it was. I can remember it’s flashing lights, the smell of hot dogs and the sound of children laughing. The laughter, it is so faint in my years now; there are no children now. I notice, as I looked at myself in a fragment of glass, I’ve aged. Gray hairs have sprouted near my temples and freckles have darkened my forehead. I can’t seem to remember very much about the day before or where I was that day. All I remember is what I feel today. Here I am, 25 years old, not too bad looking, intelligent, and I’m alone in this gigantic, smoky city. I’ve never really known loneliness, not like this anyway. I know when I was away at college my first year…. god! Then! Then I was lonely! Mom used to call every week to tell me she loved me, mom…. mom… Where is she? Dad? Geezus where is everyone?!  I can’t be the only one standing in the middle of a crumbling street crying. I can’t even cry real tears! Why couldn’t I have died right away?! I mean there’s no children, no music, no airplanes crossing the skies. Would you look at that sky? Look at it! It looks like someone was mixing white paint and splattered grey all over it. It’s so thick! Oh where is everybody? I’m so lonely, hungry, TIRED!

The worst thing is that I’m afraid to go to sleep. You see, I haven’t slept for two days. I haven’t eaten either. I’m just too afraid. What will happen is that I will go to sleep and I just won’t wake up…..that’s what happens….you just don’t wake up.

Everywhere one would dare to look, you find remains of every species; dogs, birds, humans. My mother and father are out there somewhere….no goodbyes. God I hate this!

As a poet it is my job to brighten up this gloomy setting, so I will try….here goes. The sky is sunny….really sunny like I remember when I was a kid on the farm. The sun as yellow as the sunflowers we grew on the farm….yeah…. And the sky is Philippine islands blue. The water there is so blue that as a kid I used to wonder if they treated it like they did swimming pools to keep it that clear. You would think with people peeing in it and all…. anyway.  Skies are Philippine islands blue and the sun is sunflower gold. With this in mind, we are sitting upon real thick, soft grass. It’s so soft that it might be like resting upon the featherbed. Here we all sit with fresh air ruffling our hair talking about our bright futures. We all have different dreams, but we all hope for the future and then we get sleepy… I have to stay awake! Let’s move on to another scene or image. Let’s imagine that we are sailing, yeah…. sailing. There is just enough wind to puff away our tiny, multicolored craft. Your laughing because the wind is blowing away our bags of potato chips. You laughed even harder when they splashed into the water and the chips spilled out across the rippling surface. They are so soggy and heavy that they sink and dissolve. I can’t laugh with you because I’m too hungry to laugh at soaked potato chips….but you’re dead so you can laugh….. I can’t go on like this. Have you ever felt so tired that you thought you’d never go to sleep? That’s how I feel. My eyes are all sore and red. I’ve got a pounding hammer in my skull and yet I try to be optimistic, for what? For you of course! I don’t want you to get bored up there watching me down here. You would do the same for me wouldn’t you?

Can you remember Mondays? I hated them…. Just despised them! You’d have a great weekend and bam! Mondays sledge was pounding your head in all over again. I think getting up was the toughest part for me. I’d pound my clock a couple of times or at least until it shut off, then I’d leap out of bed to avoid worrying about how cold floor would feel against my feet. After a shower and Cheerios I was fine. My life was so simple! All I had to do was go to the places and put into words what I saw. Stare at people and put to words what they were thinking. Man I miss people. You will never know the feeling. I’m really glad for your being spared that. You see, without people, you talk to yourself just to hear a human sound. You talk to objects like scraggly teddy bears just as if they could really understand you; answer you. You would probably think the person had lost their mind by watching them. Maybe I am losing it. Maybe I should lay down here and rest my eyes a bit. I know I won’t sleep because I’m too scared to sleep. Who knows what’s out there. I remember watching a movie about life would be like after something like this and it wasn’t pretty. Creatures that were once human eating other survivors. What an ugly site…. But I have to sleep….. I just can’t keep my eyes open any… longer…. but if I go to sleep…..I won’t get up again….. so I have to keep going a little longer.

Being a poet, I have to leave behind one last bit of philosophical nonsense. I guess a time capsule to represent me to the aliens or whatever higher level of intelligence exists beyond this atmosphere. I want them to read my little memo since I won’t be able to read it to them. I guess what I’m trying to say is that if I can’t have a tombstone or a proper grave to rot in, I want to be remembered for what I did best, leading the simple life of a not nationally acclaimed poet. So here’s a short but sweet:


You don’t know me

You never saw my face

I , like the others

Have passed on to the

Other place


My words may have no meaning

For you never spoke with me

You never knew what kind of life

I had to set free


As you sit there trying

Desperately trying to understand

I will be passing over

To the great never, never land



One comment on “12 Jan 2017 Deaths of Siggy and Aselthan (Season 3 Vikings), Dreams of fighting robots, Der Morgen Stadt – The Tomorrow City (short story I wrote back in 1985)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s