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A list of poems to read is on the left, and the short stories are on the right. You can also scroll down to find them. Enjoy!

But first a blonde joke:

Two women, one of them blonde, were discussing their romantic lives. They spoke about the men they'd dated, attitudes and expectations they had about relationships, and so on. Finally the subject turned to sex, and after a little while the blonde confessed that she couldn't count the number of men that she'd been with. This shocked the other woman, who then exclaimed, "But I thought your current boyfriend was the only man you'd slept with!"

Sighing sadly, the blonde replied, "Yeah... but I'm really bad at math."


Poems : Stories

Seasons Shorter Than Should Seem
The Somber Sea
The Silent Moon
Impending Doom of the Goonmaster
Oh Canada, You Suck
Scheduled Medications
Orange, Apple, or Lemonade
The Neighbor's Orchard
The Reuniting of Isis and Osiris
A Christmas Story
Hitler's Snowman
Evil, Measured as a Percentage of the Gross National Product
The Great Inspiration
Damaged Space in Need of Bio-Esssence


Seasons Shorther Than Should Seem
By Amanita Ramuglia

Where does summer come from?
It always fades away
A quiet little memory
Of the day before today

How does Autumn turn
From yellow leaves to snow?
It always comes so quickly
To shortly flee and go

Why does winter stay
And take away our light?
It seems to last forever
And makes us cold at night

When does spring arrive?
It always seems to me
It never really gets here
Just melts with snow and sea

Where, how, why, and when
Do seasons fill our time?
Moments silent, fleeting,
Though pleasant and sublime


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The Somber Sea
By Amanita Ramuglia

Rivers flow endlessly
On a predestined journey
Liquid slips into the sea
A union holding mystery

How far does water ride
Before slipping to ocean bottoms
Or flying into clouds?
The answer retreats with the tide

A question to muse upon
Or to amuse in slow times




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The Silent Moon
By Amanita Ramuglia

The moon is where I gaze
It gleams upon the grass
Beams drift in scattered haze
And enliven a dreary lass

Sing hallowed, sing light
Envy the dusty moon
For on Earth there is none
So quiet in the gloom

On all your lumid paths
Without this face t'would be no glow
No lighted space to mark your pace
Naught to sparkle in drifting snow




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Impending Doom of the Goonmaster
By: Dana Ramuglia

An army of goons
Thick, thick
Thick with goons
And who are the goons goona get
When everyone is a goon?

The goonmaster!

The goonmaster knows
And is crafting
The great goon getaway
Disguised as a guru
High atop Mount Gloomy

But, lo!
The mark is upon the goonmaster
His gooniness
Forever festers obvious

It is a chilly end




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Oh Canada, You Suck
Steven R. Connery and Amanita Ramuglia

Oh Canada, you're so great
No wonder you're the envy of Americans
A tree for every idiotic idea
You are the forest of the world

Can hockey sticks and beavers save the world?
The beaver is such a proud and noble rodent
With it's fearsome buck teeth
It clogs the mighty dams

Did Dudley ever do anything right?

Your worthless dollar
Worthless like you
You think you're the true north
Alaska is further north
Alaska's snow kicks Canada's snow's ass

Maple syrup is the bane of evil
Your beer tastes like moose pee
Canadian bacon contains cow poop
The only things glowing proudly in your country are the fish from nuclear waste

In short, Canada, you suck
You suck, amen




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Scheduled Medications
Steven R. Connery and Amanita Ramuglia

They said I was a danger
Well, gee, maybe I was born in a manger
They locked me up
Said shut up

Gloria
God is triumphant

I'll be like a regeant crowned
With your blood splattered on the ground

Die bastards!
Vermin turds
Die!
Die!

We'll certify you for life
I bet you beat your wife
Nothing like domestic strife

Gloria
In excelsis deo

Oh, psychiatric scum
You beat the psychiatric drum, scum
You beat it 'til our ears are numb, scum
Die! Die! Die!

Your bowels will be turned to shish-kabobs
Elaine will snack on you in high obs.
Amanita will beat you bloody with a bat
You ugly, over-educated bear scat

Katrina will summon the Lord
To run you through with her righteous sword
That hippie bastard Jesus
Will cut you to pesus

James will reel you in with a stick
You arrogant prick
Steven will throw acid in your pompous face
You stuck-up bastards of the human race

They said I was a danger
Well, gee, maybe I was born in a manger
They locked me up
Said shut up

Gloria
God is triumphant

I'll be like a regeant crowned
With your blood splattered on the ground

Die bastards!
Vermin turds
Die!
Die!





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Orange, Apple, or Lemonade
A poem by Steven Connery and Amanita Ramuglia

Orange, apple, or lemonade
The flavors that never fade
Give me apple
Not Snapple!
Give me lemonade
Not a hand grenade!
Orange, the drink of the insane
Who do not complain

And the cartons are so much fun
We'll make a spaceship when we're done




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The Neighbors’ Orchard
By Amanita Ramuglia

The light that morning hit the neighbor’s garden beautifully. The air smelled fresh and pure, and the grass was sparkling with scattered dew. This was a day full of promise, a day filled with beauty and peace, a day that inspired me to take charge and do something I had been meaning to do for weeks. The neighbors were home, but I didn’t care. I had come for the delicious, ripe, juicy fruit that hung seductively from the firm tree branches.

"Pups," I said, "Look at those peaches sitting way over yonder. I ain’t ever had peaches like those. They are just so scrumptious looking. Mmm, mmm, MMM!"

"I have," Pups said, "and they are the best darned peaches you could ever eat. They are sweeter than pure fructose."

"Then let’s go!" I exclaimed.

Before jumping the log fence I looked around to make sure no one was watching. It looked clear, so we headed in. Before grabbing the peaches I wanted to try some of the other delicacies in the garden. We headed back towards a stream that flowed near a luscious strawberry patch. We saw a coyote lying in the strawberries, but he ran away as soon as he saw Pups’ sharp teeth. We feasted mightily, and our bellies filled quickly. Eventually we decided to grab the peaches before we were stuffed, and headed west towards the orchard.

Within a few minutes we were there. So many peaches hung low and high throughout the canopy that I barely knew where to start. There were big ones and bigger ones, ripe ones and riper ones, sweet ones and delectable ones. They all looked so tantalizing, but I had to find the yummiest one for my first, most sacred theft from the neighbor’s tree. It would have to be carefully selected and thoroughly savored, an experience to be remembered for a lifetime. I felt as though I had been saving myself for this one fleeting embrace with the most lovely peach of my life, and it had to be the right one.

"Look up in the treetops, I think I see a nice looking peach up there," Pups said, nose pointed skyward.

I looked up, unsure of what I would find. There were so many peaches that I didn’t know if I could locate the one that Pups mentioned. I scanned the leafy screen dotted with shapely figures of orange and yellow. I saw something unique, I thought, but continued to scan. Again I noticed something. What was it? I took a careful look, squinting at it. While I looked I thought, "Is that what I think it is? Can it be?" I gazed for several minutes, unsure. Then slowly I realized that this peach, bestowing its surroundings with magnificent shades of yellow, orange, and red as it gleamed vivaciously in the sunlit treetops, was the most glorious peach ever beheld by human eyes! It was so perfect in shape, size, and more that I knew it must be The One.

I wanted to reach my hand towards it, to touch it, to love its enticing flavor, but the peach was elevated beyond my reach. I would have to climb this grand tree to its slender top, carefully take the peach in hand, tug gently, and descend with it cradled in my palm.

I eyed the canopy and prepared for my ascent. I reached one branch, tested it, and pulled myself up. I reached for another branch, hoisted myself, and then grabbed another. Soon I was near the top. I scooted up a little higher and leaned out, seeking the one I desired. My fingers inched toward it, I nearly had it in my hand, and then...

"Hey! What do you think you’re doing! To think I was blaming your dog for eating my peaches! Now I know that it was the both of you!" yelled Mr. Silvers.

The branch rustled as I yanked my hand back. Within a few seconds I tore down the tree, then Pups and I raced away as fast as a greyhound. Our neighbor was a furious swarm of bees wanting to sting us for stealing his honey peaches, and chased us unwaveringly. Pups and I were terrified about what would happen if, or when, he caught us. Soon I was only a few yards ahead of him and he nearly grabbed me! Then, through some miracle of luck, or the fact that he only had one leg, he stopped! With yellow, shining eyes he threw us an evil laugh more sinister than my grandmother’s.

"Next year I’ll spray my fruit, then no one will want to eat it, especially you two thieves!" Mr. Silvers proclaimed loudly after us.

We ran home, not looking back. When we arrived I locked the door and we flopped out on the couch, exhausted. Pups and I did little during the rest of the day, but this morning was more than enough excitement to last us a week. We may not have had a long adventure, but it was certainly a memorable one.

Later that night as Pups and I got into our beds, Pups started talking. "Yup, Mr. Silvers sure had some really nice strawberries. Maybe we could head back again when he’s not home sometime. I haven’t tasted any of his blackberries this year," said Pups.

"Pups, his fruit was mighty delicious, but I ain’t ready to think about going back. You know how he laughed at us with those yellow eyes. I ain’t ready to face that again," I told Pups.

"Yeah, but you didn’t get none of his peaches, and they are the best! We should go back, and soon! You know you want to."

I just said no and shut my eyes. Pups looked at me for a minute and then went to sleep. While he lay there dreaming I streched my hand out and pulled today’s clothes off the dresser. I emptied the pockets, set them in the laundry bin, and went back to bed. I thought about the peaches on our neighbors’ trees. So beautiful, so sweet, so far away... I sighed and let my imagination wander. Thousands of peaches filled my dreamy eyes, one shining forward and making itself obvious despite all the wonderous fruit around it. What I knew was The One sailed ahead in my mind.

I rolled onto my side with my hands balled up beside me. As I lay in bed thinking of the day’s adventure I was washed over by a sense of pleasure. Slowly, I sent my peach-filled hands to my lips, and lengthened my mouth into an open, juicy smile.



THE END!


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The Reuniting of Isis and Osiris
By Amanita Ramuglia

"Isis has died!" were the cries throughout Egypt. She had been unintentionally stabbed through the belly by her brother Seti while he was playing darts with his golden spears. By nightfall everyone in Egypt had heard of this tragedy, and Egypt prepared for her mummification.

Passing through the underworld was strange and awe-inspiring for Isis. Never before had she seen such odd creatures, or heard such interesting sounds. Slowly she made her way, and at last came to the first gate...

"Ho, Isis, goddess of fertility! Speak your password or never reach immortality!" bellows the gatekeeper.

"Pickled eggs on rye, hold the zombie sauce, with cream of zucchini flambae," speaks Isis confidently.

"Alright, you may pass, but first could you guard the gate for me, because you've really made me hungry?" asks the gatekeeper.

"NO!" says Isis firmly, and passes through, unheeding of the gatekeeper's begging.

Later, after having passed through the last gate, Isis comes before me, Osiris, and she speaks.

"Osiris! My husband, how I have missed you! Let me be immortal without the weighing of my heart!" says Isis.

"Isis, you know I cannot do that. Even I, god of the dead, cannot let you become immortal without your being judged," I state sadly.

"But Osiris!" exclaims Isis, "Don't you still love me, your wife, your..."

"ISIS!" I yell, then speaking calmly, say, "Isis, look at me, your husband, what I say now I deeply believe. You have not committed any inequity against men, you have not done anything that which I think would cause the Devourer of Souls to eat your heart, so be judged and live forever."

"Yes, my dear husband, I trust and believe you. If I must be judged, then so be it." She then says what she must.

While she speaks, I stroke the Devourer pleasantly, smiling and nodding. Soon she has finished, and her heart has not tipped the scale.

"Isis," I say, "what was the color of my first robe?"

"Blue?" Isis guesses.

Her heart becomes heavier, tipping the scale. Isis becomes terrified, and the Devourer pounces. Ripping her heart chunk by chunk, the Devourer eats hungrily.

"Isis," I say casually, "my robe was green, not blue. I'm sorry, but it looks like you're not going to live forever after all."

I smile, and begin to laugh. Poor Isis, it is so sad that I no longer love her, but I now love the Devourer. Just before she passes into oblivion I kiss the Devourer and say, "Isis, if only you had died sooner. I might not have tricked you into oblivion. But just know this: I did love you once, but now I care for none but my new love and my children. Oh, yes, it is true that you could have passed into the afterlife without being judged, but I would not let you. Sayonara!"

I am pleased, and the Devourer of Souls is satisfied.



THE END!


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A Christmas Story:

By Dana Paul Ramuglia

Before Jesus got into resurrecting the dead, he was into erecting homes and such... one day, he noticed the blueprints called for an indoor fountain where the water ran uphill. "This blueprint ignores God's structural law for gravity within the confines of this universal subset!" He exclaimed. "If I build this thing to specs I will be doing a disservice to the intent of my creator; indeed the substrata that is myself."

Just then, the devil appeared in the form of an Italian (Roman back then) keystone archway, and said, "I'll show you something natural that makes water flow uphill..." as a beautiful orgy queen (appropriately dressed) appeared before Him.

"I want to be level about this," Jesus said. So he threw down the blueprints and went out to practice walking on water.

Just as He was getting the feel for it the contractor saw him and said, "What are You doing? What about work?"

Jesus replied, "The blueprints were off. Besides, it's My birthday."

"In December?" the contractor asked.

"Don't get technical with the Son of Man!" Jesus shot back.

"Well, then, what's wrong with the blueprints?"

"Water doesn't run uphill... and don't argue with Me in any diabolical verbiage."

The diabolical arch went "poof!" and reappeared as a trough in some distant pig pen.

"Let me see that," the contractor muttered. "You must have been holding them upside down."

"Not so! See... it says on page 3 on this part of the worksheet."

"And you tell me not to get technical."

"Hey, you know, if you work at it the soles of your feet, I mean My feet, can atomize the water and replace the surface with a variable magnetic flux, you know, a force field, I mean, like, I'm so pure I can walk on water!"

"What's that got to do with your work?"

"Hey, are all contractors as farsighted as you, or are you just the cream of the crop?"

"What?"

"Hey, I'm union, it's My birthday, I'm not getting nailed with this job today for you or anybody else. And I don't want to hear one of your lectures about how someday I'll have to assume responsibility, that life is not one big donkey ride, and the rest of it. Don't keep telling me about your years of experience as a man and what it means; I don't want to hear it. Experience this!"

Just then a thundercloud appeared and rain gushed out of the sky.

"What do you think about that!"

"Looks like rain."

"Yeah, but... hey! Where are you going?"

"You may know how to walk on water, but I know enough to come in out of the rain. Enjoy your day off."



Well Jesus got the last laugh; he used extra large pipes for the fountain that ran up quite a cost overrun. It was a beautiful fountain, though, and the extra surge of water greatly improved the appearance of it (He had a touch for kinetic grace that seems to live on in the spirit of his work). To this day, some of the finest architectural firms would like to solidify their position by acquiring His touch for the fundamentals upon His long awaited return. Scheduling is still in the works.


THE END


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Hitler's Snowman

By Dana Paul Ramuglia

When Hitler was a child, and he being a fairly ordinary child, he loved winter and couldn't imagine a nicer time of the year anywhere. After the first deep snowfall, at the age of six, he became ambitious and set out to make a snowman. He rolled a great ball of snow for the base, which he packed firm and made perfectly round. He placed a smaller ball just as neat atop the first, and a third, smaller still, upon the second. He carefully placed two pieces of coal on the top ball for eyes. He then took a carrot for a nose and accidently smeared coal on it. He removed his gloves to wipe off the coal discolored carrot, but only spread the dark substance more. He began to cry and wiped his eyes, which blurred his vision with tears and coal dust. Other children began to laugh at him and he ran home, dropping the carrot.

His mother saw him and noticed his darkened eyes. She spanked him and yelled, "Think of the impurities you have exposed yourself to!"

Hitler never forgot.

-Historical research by the Ramuglia foundation-


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Evil, Measured as a Percentage of the Gross National Product

By Dana Paul Ramuglia

Business and government had long recognized evil as being a necessary evil of a free market economy. One day a highly placed politician decided it should be quantified. He hired a consulting firm with a solid reputation for its work in evaluating the relationships between various intangibles.

The first problem encountered by the consultants was the discovery that evil was inherently self-defeating in any quantifiable goals assigned to it. It was decided, therefore, that the Gross National Product, while quantifiable, must in itself contain no inherent goals, such as a relationship between the GNP and quality of life or a relationship between the GNP and any other value system. Dispensing with a goal oriented approach to the GNP established evil as a 7% quantity that would devour the remaining 93% if these assumptions prevailed. Not only would society become completely evil, but the Gross National Product would triple as a result. The politician publicly released these findings while declaring his intent to run for the presidency in front of cameras at an abortion clinic to the stars. "Prosperity is right around the corner," he declared.




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The Great Inspiration
By Dana Paul Ramuglia

"Within the same time frame, gravity centralizes in a mass of given volume. Within different frames of time, gravity between two mass volumes diffuses, giving a gravitational force between the distance of each center of mass as an attraction diminished by distance cubed times the diminished pull through time squared.

"A consequence of slowing the rate of passage through time of an object such as the sun would be its collapse, whereas an acceleration through time would cause it to explode and rend more furiously.

"As a mass collapses into the form of a black hole, the central interior rips the fabric of time, leading to an explosion of its matter into opposing temporal realities where it may become unsprung as a big bang funneled into various universes through time. As the black hole regurgitates its essence, it may also draw more mass to itself, maintaining the process."

Nero contemplated the words of his enslaved Arabian genie, and considered revealing this to the people. He noticed flames breaking out in parts of the city as he stood on the balcony and, in distraction, was inspired to call for his fiddle. It was to be the most illuminating night of his life.

Fall 2000. Based on personal discovery from the late 1960's



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Damaged Space In Need of Bio-Esseence

By Dana Ramuglia

In the zone of level nine, the walls of Valhalla have endured the drying of essence by misdeed and misuse. Godhood shall not be denied nor the needs thereof. The life essence of plants shall prove as means repairable of damages incurred by observing bio-mechanics of plants in how they pass off moisture from their essence. The flower of the Venus flytrap and the root of violets both may be used in this process. This will be the means to deconstructing the damage to space in Godhood level nine.


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