The Writer's Block

The Phoenix Born

2012-01-28T02:18:00.000-08:00

Come now gentle flame

Here alight upon my breast

And take hold golden bright

Brother of my aching

Sister of my dispair

Can you tell my tale

Or shall you lie for me?

All can see now plain

Laid out here to see

The path that once was trod

The path that never sees

The light of day comes now

And my light with all these

For of the seven suns

That have basked since the night

Of the seven moons

Wrapped in silken delights

I have never known

A star more radiant

That shall I set my course

By this lode's demands

Or shall I turn once more

Upon this endless sea

Shall I yearn once more

Or shall I call for Thee

But where was love when all

The night was dark and cold

Where was love when I

Knew the taste of blood

No I shall stir again

Sleeping in the ice

I shall rise once more

And feast upon their eyes

So when the time has come

And where this river runs

No more to lie in state

No more their tongues to sate

I shall turn my back

And I shan't look aside

There where deeps things crawl

There I go to hide

But the world is an ever tomb

And no matter where I run

There is always the dancing still

Between the moon and sun

And so shall days now pass

And time so silent heals

But I shall turn my head

And find the secret wheels

That turn and grind their bones

And look beyond this scope

I shall rise for my own sake

No more this bitter trope

My heart anew to make

Over again to break

For my own sake

The Pheonix Stirs

2012-01-28T02:12:00.000-08:00

Contain

And let all feelings wash away

Refrain

And don't let them see again

But no matter the pain

Or the times and trials ahead

I cannot simply become lame

I'd rather feel then be so dead

So I shall sing

And write the words I fear to say

I shall dream

The things I have lost in yesterday

And I shall take wing

No matter how dark it may seam

And no more to contain

No more to refrain

No I shall take flight

And I shall draw might

From the tears I have sown

And from the love I have known

And when the backs all have turned

And I my salt and dues have earned

I shall then spread my secret wings

For I am not all that I seem

And upon the wings of night take flight

And I shall rise up to glorious hights

And they shall look upon me

The one that they have scorned

And they shall know me

As the one they aught have adored

And I shall rise over their eyes

Full of scorn and compromise

And I shall search for the violet dawn

And let my art and my heart be reborn

Us and me

2012-01-25T18:29:00.000-08:00

I am outside myself

It is a part of the process

(And breathe)

I am without myself

Where I cannot see anymore

(Now begin)

I undo my self

Tearing into warmest flesh

(Clear)

I will consume myself

And leave an empty mirror

(Reset the metronome)

I float from myself

Tugging strings breaking my skin

(Refrain)

I can't believe myself

The song starts again

(Now think)

I slice in two myself

Two hearts, two minds apart

(And break)

I have destroyed myself

Too many pieces to put together again

(Again)

The Willow and the Ivy Covered Oak

2012-01-24T01:42:00.000-08:00

When the moon rose over the silver splashing stream that wound its way from deep within the viridian woods, there where the bend caused the water to overreach it's banks and spread like quicksilver between each blade of the verdant swath that spread from the breaks in the trees, the white light of the moon slid over the bark of two lonely trees that quivered in the naked light. One a tall and slender willow, with branches wide and leaves of silvergreen spearheads that slid and caressed across one another with the faintest of whisper in the windless night. The other an old white oak, gnarled and long dead that had found life again as the growth of ivy, greenest of green, had engulfed the dry wood with it's twisting form and rose as billowing clouds from pale twisting branches. And as the shadows deepened and danced across the bark, there was a strange tremble in the ancient wood as if a creaking and groaning and two doors long shut were finally moved on ancient arboreal hinges. And as the folds of the twisted willow bark were parted as curtains by fingers pale and ancient as the forests from within the deep darkest corners a face was seen, with eyes that glowed with faerie light. For of course this was no ordinary wood, and the stream that wound from deep within its bounds was enchanted and it's waters were what made the trees in the woods come alive and these two trees who stood at the bend where the enchanted river water splashed from the banks had drunk deeply of the river for a thousand years. So whenever the moon was full and the night was dark and even the wind fell under the spell of the soft light, then the trees would come alive unlike any other time. First the willow stirred under the light's soft touch, and leaving the dark folds of it ancient slumber, its pale wiry form pushed from within the warm enclosure of the outer bark. And as it's ivory skin glistened in the moonlight, while muscles taught and joints stiff from long slumber flexed, it ran its fingers through its leafy head and closed its eyes and yawned a drowzy yawn. And its soft gaze fell upon the old white oak which stood a ways away on the other side of the silver stream, that age old friend who grew with it. And as the bright silver eyes of the willow fell upon the oak, the green glowing eyes of the ivy wrapped oak looked back from within the shadows. The willow stepped upon the bright green grass, feeling the pulse of the silver stream's magic waters as they flowed through the course of its rootlike feet with the power of all creation. And the willow began to dance upon the silver water, calling the dainty balls of golden light, the fireflies woken from their slumber. And as the willow danced the wind began to stir with the faintest of music on the breeze. The long distant laughter of summers now passed and the golden warmth of lazy star scattered nights all reached their songs back to the place where the river bent and where the willow now danced upon the banks. The willow's song roused the ivy covered oak and in dusky tendrils of viridian it slipped from its slumber and stood in the shadows watching the willow. The green eyes glowed brightly as the twisted and gnarled form placed it's hand dark as a pine forest and veined with shadows upon its heart which had come alive at the willow's song. But before it could slip from its hiding place the river rose and trembled and quivered and strange shapes and ripples ran counter to the quicksilver current. And the willow retreated from the rising flood and climbed into the branches of the tree. And the figure in the shadows retreated to it's home as well and could only watch as the river rose more. For they knew not that far up high above the hill from where their river came, mankind had breached the safety of their enchanted woods. And they knew not that the men had built a dam there to hold back the river. And they knew not that those foolish men, not realizing that this was a wild river and one that could not be tamed, had been overcome by the forces of the river and the wood and the dam had been undone. But what they did see was the sudden rush of the silver stream growing and spreading and drowning those poor prickles of grass and touched the trees first the roots and then the trunks. Both figures climbed higher and green eyes met silver in return. But there was no way to cross the river and reach from one tree to the other. And still it rose higher and higher. The willow, it's branches low and stooping could climb no further and watched as the angry river rose and rose. But then from the shadows there was a crack and a groan of pain. And the willow watched in horror as the old oak fell sideways across the rushing torrents. And from the shadows of the ivy leaves a hurried whispered could barely be heard, telling the willow to get upon the oak and escape as soon as it could. And so the willow was saved and rode the old oak tree to the shallower part of the river and when it disembarked from that ark of salvation, it turned to the ivy in thanks. But the ivy was gone. For the old oak had not stood by its own volition for many years and the ivy had grown all about and around and even throughout it, keeping it up. And when the ivy had let the oak finally fall, it had pulled it out by it's very roots. But there at the base of the broken roots was one small curling vine of bright greenery mark with shadow. And the willow taking that last bit of life, walked into the darkness of forest, seeking another old oak that needed new life.

Colloquy of Thought

2012-01-21T08:16:00.000-08:00

Said my Longing to my Soul

"Shall we walk upon the strand

And trace each every inlet

Where the sea kisses the sand?"

Replied my Soul unto my Longing

"Sir, you have waited far too long

The hour comes of midnight's making

when our path may yet go wrong."

Scoffed my Longing at my Soul

"Why need we Day's harsh light

When other lamps can light our way

The stars that dance in glorious night?"

So bent my Soul unto my Longing

And rising from that cautious seat

Made their way along the shore

The sand still warm to their feet

Then said my Longing to my Soul

"While the day's warmth linger's yet

Let us wade out into the waters

To dance among the foaming wet."

Answered my Soul unto my Longing,

"Is the water here not deep?

And what strange currents

May yet sweep us from our feet?"

Smiled my Longing to my Soul,

"But we shall wade out not too far

And when the water touches knees

Safe we'll stand on that sand bar."

Said my Soul unto my Longing,

"To the sand bar but no one more step

For I know not these deep waters

Or past sorrows they have kept."

Whispered my Longing to my Soul,

"Past sorrows pass as a leaf in the stream

And even today's tragedy all too soon

Reclines inside and fades like a dream."

So headed my Soul the words of my Longing

And setting foot into the tumbling rush

They began their wade beneath the pale moon

No sound save for the Sea's gentle hush.

Said the Moon unto that Sea,

"What new tenant have you earned?

I saw two bathers enter your chambers

But lo, only one now has returned."

Answered the Sea unto that Moon,

"A few steps more, a splash and a bump

Longing may drown a man's Soul

And a little leaven leavens the whole lump."

Tulgian Sent

2012-01-21T03:03:00.000-08:00

I release these dreams unto the night

Let them run, on wings of wind take flight

Let them gather unto those minds asleep

Let them bring the image to the places deep

For wrought with fire are these ancient devices

That run with desire according to my vices

And now when the boiling draws nigh to the faces

Let them in their beds of satin and laces

Be visited by the phatom of my derision

And taste of the river of my decisions

For as the ones speak now through vessel unbroken

Let them heed the fires that I have spoken

And walk in the wheel of the path I have shaped

And tast of the fruit of desire and hate

And with eyes now turning let hearts be in twain

Desiring all that this love has to gain

For selfish are hearts when caught in the fire

And blind are the eyes that drown in desire

To the Handmaid of El-roi

2012-01-19T15:47:00.000-08:00

" וַיִּשָּׂא־לֹ֣וט אֶת־עֵינָ֗יו וַיַּרְא֙ אֶת־כָּל־כִּכַּ֣ר הַיַּרְדֵּ֔ן כִּ֥י כֻלָּ֖הּ מַשְׁקֶ֑ה לִפְנֵ֣י ׀ שַׁחֵ֣ת יְהוָ֗ה אֶת־סְדֹם֙ וְאֶת־עֲמֹרָ֔ה כְּגַן־יְהוָה֙ כְּאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֔יִם בֹּאֲכָ֖ה צֹֽעַר׃"

Across the flat and endless parch

The salt pan stretched to infinite white

And the heat of day danced with Death

While my thirsty heart gasped for breath

Across the plains of death you walked

Barefeet never feeling the kiss of heat

Your robe of crimson caressed by gold

The image of a river in a land of cold

Across your face the ashes blew fire

The hair in your shawl together billowed sail-like

And those eyes that watched my creation's first step

Those eyes now saw me and such tears they wept

Across your face fell the antediluvian rains

And collected in the cup of such deep fingers

And kneeling as a penitent before this huddled man

You planted those tears in the cracking sand

Across the firmament the lightning crackled

And heaven was defenestrated by the seed in the sand

The tendril of viridian sprang from your sigh

And raised first-leaves prayer-like to the weeping sky

Across the flat and endless parch fell your rain

And ran together and crashed together and roared

Your song gurgled from depths, like a fountain sprang

And your river brought life wherever it ran

Across the space between the two there reached

A hand holding something more dear than water or life

Your fingers unfolded to reveal the heaviest thing of all

A kindness offered in answer to suffering's call.

"And he looked out towards Zoar, over the whole

of the plains of Jordan.

And he saw that it was watered well

and like the Eden..."

Gen.13.10

Good/Bad/Love/Hope

2012-01-16T01:27:00.000-08:00

You are so good

Much too good

And I am so bad

Just a bit too much

And so as opposites slide

So of course you'd have my love

And of course I can never have yours

For this is how the world deals with us

The star cross'd lovers, or just lover in this case

But I cannot let myself believe

I cannot think it may be true

That all this love I feel

Is simply wasted on you

That you cannot feel it

You cannot see it

You do not know

Not even a bit

So I shall hold on to hope

Not the hope of your love's return

But I shall hold on to hope that just maybe

Maybe you know how my heart bleeds for you

Maybe you know what pain I feel when I hear your name

And that will be enough for me

No word or act in return

Nothing at all from you

Just the hope that you know

That I am not abandoned

Or forgotten

That is all

All I can hope for now

Because I am so very good

Good at hoping at the thing lost

So I shall be good at hoping

And you can be good at being so good

And when you smile at me so sweetly

I'll pretend that the smile is for me

Because I can't do anything else

Because I am so bad

and you are so good

Trepidation

2012-01-16T01:19:00.000-08:00

My love

How long since I have whispered your name to silence of night's ebony wings

And yet even now

Your name recalls to me all those joyful, wonderful, magical memories

But on swift feet

Here come the cool sliding memory, our last memory, when you weren't there

And I waited for you

And you did not come even though you said you'd come and I was all alone

And now you're here

And you have that look in your eyes again that would melt my heart

And then break it again

You ought to know more about human hearts then this, we are too easily broke

So now you've come

And as we lay here in the silence of night's warm embrace

I will try not to cry

We won't say anything, do anything, just you and I lying here

And we won't move

Because deep down we both know it won't do either of us any good anymore

We will stay here

And let the dust of ages collect like a blanket to sooth our slumber

And I will try not to die

But I can make no promises, my love, I cannot make them as easy as you

And maybe I will die lying here

But at least this way I know that if I die here I will die with you by my side

And afterward?

That is no longer up to me is it? Your hands. Your choice. Your move.

Your love.

Illuminate

2012-01-12T18:03:00.000-08:00

And then like a beacon upon the storm dark seas

I saw you

And I knew that you were my only salvation

From dark and lonely nights spent in the cold

And then like a bright shinning star above the clouds

I knew you

To be the one who would walk before me

Always leading me onward to the violent dawn

And then like the dancing northern lights above

I had you

And I knew the brightest flame holds no heat

And the sun can slumber in shades so cool

Lambing the Muse

2012-01-11T02:22:00.000-08:00

A hard mistress is my muse

This poor poet so to abuse

For no sleep shall she grant

Until word more utter I can't

So now in gross poetic line

I shall recall the ivy and vine

And upon god of grape and desire

I shall offer this sacred fire

That mayhap they shall can see

What image has now come to me

That day when Pan did see there

Upon the hilltop green, the fair

One, keeper of his ancient heart

And turner of his nature's art

The one which in poetic code

shall be called Lamb, as innocence bode

For like a lamb Pam's lover was tame

And knew not the rules of love's game

And trusted heart unto one so dark

The one with the most evil heart

But anon he would take hold of prize

Pan glanced into those gorgeous eyes

And realized no matter he lust much

This pure beauty he could not touch

He hid his face in utter shame

And he threw away his form and name

And took upon him a more humble form

And would no more the laurel adorn

But as a goat he wandered the fields

Where golden Demeter her scepter wields

And as he journeyed to distant parts

The lamb he always kept within his heart

In the hopes that they could still be friends

In the hopes they would someday meet again

Texting in Dreams

2012-01-11T02:18:00.001-08:00

Another night when words are sweet

Another night I wish to keep

When under Bacchian spell

I text you and wish you well

For as Night draws its deep blue shade

I messaged you, sweet dreams I bade

And when you responded swiftly

I believed you too loved me

But these are the wishes of the night

When wine makes the eyes shine bright

And when come the morning's face

The truth once more I will embrace

That these things are phantom dreams

That your love is not what it seems

And that if I were to place my heart in your hand

You wouldn't even begin to understand

So while the joy engulfs me in falsehood's embrace

I will merely dream of your face

Yon Wicked Goat

2012-01-11T02:03:00.000-08:00

Said the goat unto the lamb

"Let us go a bit along

this dusty road ahead of us

To the fountain far beyond."

Answered the lamb unto the goat

"The font you speak of I know well

Tis not a place you would call pleasant

Tis not the place many lambs dwell."

"Come with me." Spoke the goat

"There is no need to be afraid.

For the path is just right here.

And by sweet songs we are bade."

"I do not know," whispered the lamb

"I am not sure of this new path

for I have heard unpleasant reports

Of all on it journeyed hath."

"Come soon," breathed the goat

"This path has been trod by all

There is not so much danger here

See, no true ravine into which to fall."

But still linger did the lamb

Peering down the road so dark

And even hearing such soft music

The goat's word it would not hark.

But the goat knew what the lamb did not

That the path was enchanted made

And that soon the rising ridge would

Push the lamb where the goat had bade.

Silly Little Scribble

2012-01-10T01:46:00.001-08:00

I'll scribble one more verse

For all caught by love's curse

Since tonight you grant no sleep

And my heart its vigil keeps

While the lily lies in sweet repose

You waken my muse to compose

And while my broken arms ache

Still you smile on my memory breaks

Like the ocean crashes on the sand

I close my eyes and recall your hand

I feel it now here in the night

Were feelings able to bring sight

The sweet smell upon your lips

The way they curve as your smile dips

But soft! The spell is spent!

And the love was only lent

Now as a phantom you dissipate

Before the words that came too late

I longed to whisper in your ear

But now you've gone and disappeared

And so I shant write more tonight

I shall put out my little light

And if the gods and my muse be true

Grant they that I dream of you

Lacewing Paper

2012-01-09T21:04:00.000-08:00

The air grows so thin

Like lacewing paper spread over us

And as I reach towards you

I am afraid I'll tear it

So I push

Push as hard as I can

Strain against the paper

Just a bit harder then before

I write my name on the paper

And yours next to mine

I use what I can

My tears

My blood

What ever will hold the hardest letters

I hope that if I do this

Leave an imprint of my soul

That maybe you'll see it

With your eyes glued shut

Or maybe you won't

But at the very least

These demons that push my soul

That push my heart to bleed

To bleed at the thought of you

They will no longer be inside me

Consuming me

I trap them in the paper with words

And I can't help feeling

That I trap a part of my heart there too

You won't see it

You can't

I understand

But I can't keep this any longer

Lacewing paper is fine

Is thin

But still not thin enough

It suffocates my soul

And as much as I want you

I also want to be able

Able to breathe again

And it's not fair of me

To smother you with all my affection

I can't keep you mine

Not with all the lacewing paper

All the lacewing paper in the world

What Wrote Ophelia There

2012-01-08T18:54:00.000-08:00

You could have it all

Anything you want

The world rises up in the morning

Rises up to greet your face

And offers you all the sweetness

That it denies me this day

You can have everything

Everything you've dreamed

They bloom before your eyes

And gild the curves of your smiles

As it has gilt my tears tonight

You can choose anything

Anyone, all long for you

You have the soul like a lodestone

All hearts turn towards you

And my greatest pain is your blindness

To the loves that you could have

For each day the world offers all

And each day you still look small

In your own eyes

And each day they offer their love

And each day you shrug it off

Believing none can love you

So here I stand and sway

Caught between antipodes of dread

Either, you know not your worth

Reject all their loves

And mine with them

Or else

I pry open your eyes

And you see my heart

And seeing mine see theirs as well

And realize

That you could have anyone at all

So why would you ever choose me

I sway and linger on this thread

I weave these thoughts around my head

And plummet into the growing dread

Your heart could give me everything

Arthur's Tears

2012-01-08T04:35:00.000-08:00

What words are left

You have broken me utterly

The way the sun caught your smile

And it reminded me of once

When that smile could have been

Could have been

For me

You walked like the sun

So surely and so true

As if your course was unchanging

Empyrean and set

And I would be the dog

Your spaniel, Demetrius

Following always in your wake

Again I dare to glance

To glance at you for second

And all I see is the gentle wave

Of the ocean curling to meet the shore

It's been caught in your hair

Those chocolate waves

Veined with purest gold

How I wish to draw near again

To breathe in again

To smell your hair once more

As I did so many times

While you slept soundly in the sun

You are slowly seeping like the dawn

Coloring my world that was grey for so long

Trying to fight your way once more

To the place you held before

When you were my sun

My centre, my soul

O I cannot let it

I tell myself I cannot let you

I must restrain myself

I must contain myself

I cannot let love sprout again

Not when

When you tore my still beating heart

Out of the chest and left naught but night

You have no idea

Not the slightest clue

How far your fingers reach

You choose over and over again

As if I don't exist

And just as I am ready

Set to give you up

Then you turn that face

As pale as the moon

With a blush of your drink

Breathing on your cheeks

Those lovely cheeks

Whose circles I've traced

Time and time again

Mapping all for my memory

As if I knew this day would come

Again

Just then

When I would let you go

And say it is better for you to go

Then you turn and smile my way

A word of affection so long sought

A King is not supposed to cry

And yet your beauty draws tears

From my soul

My longing for you, my love

Consumes my heart and mind

And turns all to fountains and springs

That drain from my eyes as the rivers

The rivers of desire and heartbreak

That pool into the ocean of my pillow

Again

You wipe the tear from my cheek

And trace it with your smooth thumb

And suddenly we're right back where we started

What words are left

You have broken me utterly

Guinivere's Response

2012-01-08T04:27:00.000-08:00

Tonight the shadows grow so deep

The air draws chill in my stoney keep

And I know that it is true

You've come and gone another day

You're out there and you did not stay

And I know that it is true

You said you loved me as a friend

Those words of hope that also rend

And I know that it is true

Are you friend who desire's lover

Or are you lover caught as a brother

I know not which is true

But on nights like this when my eyes shine

When my hand reaches for more wine

I know that it must be true

That the only time I have ever felt love

Was waking with your face above

And I know it can be true

That maybe your heart is the same as mine

And maybe all we need is a bit more time

Maybe it could be true

So I'll endure one more cold lonely night

For you, my ever constant knight

And I too shall remain true

True enough to you

Lancelot's Abhorence

2012-01-08T04:17:00.000-08:00

My heart is amazed

by the horror of

you.

Those eyes so bleary

Unfocused and teary

That shimmer with lights foreign

to you.

I would swim in those seas

I would if they would

but look at me as I haved longed

at you.

But you chased so many

Around the merry go round

And circle tables set for all

but you.

And when my heart is at the breaking

the point of life and love's unmaking

Then I will steal to the place I slumbered

with you.

And there hidden by crevician art

that tender cloth you kept so near your heart

I will bring it to wipe my tears as I think

of you.

Be near me tonight, my sweetest desire

Even if only you walk in my dreams

And let me never dream again unless it be

of you.

My soul abhores this lonesome state

It knows limbo when it's taste'd.

And so it looks on me with shame

for you.

And so tonight I am amazed by you

My soul's abhorent praise to you

And I just can't stop my muse, it's true

From burning my heart with longing for you.

another

2012-01-06T02:41:00.000-08:00

another lonely night

another lonely year

would i give it all away

just to have your ear

i sit here trying hard

to have patience again

another lonely how

another lonely when

i sit and try to smile

i die slowly inside

another birthday come

another part has died

i try not to care

i try not to die

i want to stop trying

i want to ask why

Soft Acoustic Sunset

2012-01-03T00:36:00.000-08:00

Come and walk with me

By the old oak tree

Just sit here quietly

And listen to the world grow old

No its not about love today

No its not about all that jazz

Today is a day for you and me

And everyone else as well

Lets sit and listen to the world grow bright

And sepia seep into the cracks

And we'll bask in the glow

Of the warmth as day becomes night

And we won't even care at all

Because once night comes dancing on

We know the stars will be warm this time

Yes because we know the grass is warm

And we'll lie there watching fireflies

While slow, soft night music

And an old acoustic guitar

Drift and drone lazily by

And as our eyes grow heavier

And the sweetest slumber wraps its arms

Around us like the soft glow of 4th of July fireworks

We can now finally take a breath

And taste the dew forming on our tongues

And laugh until the sun peaks through

And laugh and shake our manes

Scatter dew drops in the morning light

And run back to be home in time for breakfast

The Mist and the Boulder

2011-12-26T16:16:00.000-08:00

It was a night

Like so many before

When we just sat

And tried to talk

But the words were few

And the thoughts too many

And the feelings too

Were just too true

Just too true...

Or at least, that's what I thought.

It was this last night

Like so many before

Where you leaned arms crossed

Against the frame of my door

And you just looked at me

Wordless and sad

Because of the simple truth

Of what would never be

What would never be...

Or at least, so it seamed to me.

That's why last night

Like no night before

As we sat on the stairs

And you placed your fingertips

On each one of my tears

No need to ask me why

No need to answer

No words can fill this soul

The truth we both know well

We both know well...

Or at least, I can only hope.

And so now that it's tonight

Just like the night before

I will sit alone in silence

Not asking what I cannot bear

To hear the answer to

And I know even if my dreams were true

The silence would be a constant veil

And I know if they are but dreams

The silence is a sanctuary for dreams

And so we shall remain silent

Remain silent....

Or at least, I will for now.

Merlin's Prison

2011-12-26T14:12:00.000-08:00

In an empty room

Colored in saddness

I sit and contemplate

You

I sit and stair at my reflection

Waiting for the glass to make

Make the first move

Move

But no sigh, no shutter, nothing at all

The sound of emptiness is loudest

And I knew for sure I was

Forsaken

And when you asked me to have a heart

To show a care again like before

I walked into the empty room

That was Yours

And I peeled the wallpaper with my nails

And I broke the chairs with my bones

And I ground all to dust and ash

Ashes

And I gave the last bit back to you

Because I could not have a heart

After I already gave it away

To you

So here I sit in my empty oaken chamber

And stair empathetically at the mirror

Here where you have imprisoned me

Heartless

Clocks and Feathers

2011-12-22T17:41:00.000-08:00

For too long the clock was still

Hands frozen on frozen face

The chill of the cool metal

The silence of the pendulum

Encased in glass, and iron, and velvet and dust

The long empty silent clock stood

Untouched, unmoved, unwound

But then the small bird flew in

Iron black and as soft as night music

And settled itself on the ledge

And there it built its small nest

While the winter howled outside

The roar of snow was defening

The silence of the clock more so

And in quiet, dreamy slumber sleeping

The clock and the bird slept till spring

The promise of things to come

That springs will wind again

That ticks will once more echo

And that together they shall learn

How to tell time once again

Forms and Shapes of Dreams

2011-12-19T00:13:00.000-08:00

Would impetious tears now stand

And say their peace before God and man

For long have I labored to trace the spheres

And long have their paths yet alluded me

Copernicus in his tower sits

And makes the music I long to hear

And yet here I stand in my Tychean turmoil

And I know not yet how to see these things

Wents from the unyielding hands

That hang empyrean upon the ballast fast

I wrought my heart of ore untouched by flame

And the lattice work of my desire

Would not follow the smith's hammer blows

Anon I picked my heart up from the anvil

Where blows so real shattered dreams and fantasy

And relinquished the heart that never was mine

Relingquished the nether-would-bes of morrowtime

The holly hangs upon the heather

And the mistletoe creeps upon the oak

So has this desire clung unto my heart

So shall I set fire to creeping vine and branch alike

Leave naught but ash in my observatory

Leave naught but the tangled form of once was

Melt my astolabe and compass

Retire to that glassy serpent

Upon whose banks wreathed in fog

Purhaps the memory of that face

The memory of Copernicus' song

Shall melt away from all memory

Like imperfections from iron drawn

Or make my mind and heart to fade

Decay the oak and mistletoe

For no longer can this dream last

Soon shall I reap what I have sown

A dark day comes for me

A dark day draws no neigh

And because

2011-12-17T01:52:00.000-08:00

And I don't know what to say

You've come and gone away

And no matter how I cry

You still just pass me by

And I don't know what to do

You made my smile sneak through

And when I didn't see your face

My sorrow took it's place

Because you leave me feeling high

Like I could actually get by

Like my world has some small spark

Like I may still have a heart

Because you leave my messy bed

Smelling like your cigarette

And when it mixes with my tears

Its like you were almost here

And I don't know what to say

Because you make me feel this way

Because you leave me oh so high

How will I ever again get by?

Die Stilte en die Lied

2011-12-15T13:56:00.000-08:00

Stand nou still

En se niks

Want daar is geen meer worde nie

En die aand ure is te donker

Hulle kom, hulle kom

Gee nou aan die duisternis

Betaal ons boote aan die skeemer mis

Want die tale tel nou saam

En die musiek is verby

En die lied het verdwyn

En die stilte sal ons smoor

Terwyl ons hier staan

Almal saam ons kringe draai

Maar nooit sal die ossewaa staan

Nooit sal die duwe weer stuig

Die belofte so laank geleede gemaak

Sal ons trug roep van die doode

Sal ons kinders trug roep na die nuewe dag

Maar die wat tussen staan

Nie in die kraal en nie buite nie

Die veloore

Die vervloekde

Die wat vergeet word

Waar sal ons plek wees

Die blou van onse huemel

Sal sak en smeer met onse see

En die sterkte van ons berge

Kan hul ons die antwoord gee?

Maar so lank is die gront rooi bly

So lank is die Karoo goud bly

So lank as die huemel blou bly

So lank sal die lied anhou

So lank sal ons altyd onthou

Didymus

2011-12-13T18:51:00.000-08:00

He caught my eye

Peering across the room

With a suken look that seemed to say

That seemed to beg

To beg for someone

Anyone

To ask him what's wrong

So I stepped closer

And he came more into view

And as if reading my mind

Reading his mind

He began to speak

"Its nothing at all"

He couldn't look at me as he lied

I couldn't look at him as he lied

I'm fine

He tried to say but just couldn't

It's just that I think

Yes?

I think I may be getting close

Close? Close to what?

Close to just giving up.

Giving up on what?

Do you really have to ask

And the sadness is his eyes

Was too heavy to bear

So I could not stay

I could not ask him

What he wanted to ask me

Instead I just

I just turned

And walked away

Away from the mirror

Edmund

2011-12-08T16:18:00.001-08:00

Shhhh

Don't say it

We don't want to hear it

Just keep it

Keep it to yourself

Shhh

Let it fall

Bury it deep inside your soul

And let it lie forgotten

By all

Except for you of course

You won't ever forget

You won't ever move on

You won't ever let it go

You have tasted of the cup

And you have found that

Turkish Delight is far too sweet

To ever drink blood again

So now you'll just lie here

In the snow and the ice

And hug yourself to keep warm

And only ever hug yourself

Poor boy you don't even see do you

You can never make them understand

Let it sink lower still

Falling like a burning comet

Self immolation draws now near

Do it

But never tell them why

Let them stand in a circle

Proud brother and sisters dear

Let them look on with questioning glances

Let them wonder why you would ever

They have not tasted

They can never understand

They will never know why

They look down at your charred remains

And though you may be tempted

Tempted by forces as weak as love and comfort

To tell them

Don't

Shhh

Don't say a word

They can't understand

They have never understood

A thousand generations of their faces

And they have never understood

A thousand more and maybe

But no, no place made for hope

They will never understand it

So just let it all take flame

And let them step back

The look of horror and fear

and that says "I told you so"

Let them share their glances

And speak of their "Poor dear"

But do not answer their questions

They don't even really ask

Shh be still my poor poor prince

Yes, you little prince you little darling

You truly are alone in the world

And so you shall always be

Have I not decreed it?

And My word shall not return void

Go now and lie in the snow a bit longer

Until all your tears have glazed into ice

And as the frozen rivulets travel up cheeks

Freezing those pools that are your eyes

And following that watery trail down

Into your heart

Into your soul

Let all turn to my beloved ice

It is about time, don't you think?

Enough of this fire

Enough of their flames

Let it all cool down and freeze to iron

And then only shall I call you Mine

The Prince deserving of My Kingdom

Drink deep now

Drink of that cup they shall never know

Take up your seat

Not on some throne of four

Rise higher still

Here upon the sledge beside Me

Come now and let us go

Only take a care

To hold your tongue

Not a word

Not one word

Shhhh

Ode to the Bird of Paradise

2011-12-06T01:59:00.000-08:00

A different spectre draws now near

Not of her who I no longer fear

But of an altogether different colored bird

Whose song is sweet yet so absurd

For you, o bird of paradise, I write

For it is thoughts of you that keep me up tonight

First the smell, that scent that haunts my sleep

Wafting on unseen breezes it creeps

And suddenly brings back every smile of your face

And in darkness your profile I begin to trace

Begone you thoughts that haunt my dreams!

For though sweet, you are not all you seem

Your lies are free and your venom is fierce

To lead desperate hearts and then to pierce

When you rent away the precious thing of desire

And leave only the taste of the despondent mire

I know your lies and treachery too well

Tonight you shant make my dreams a hell

The bird did not on my shoulder come

Because it preferred me over everyone

It did not sing such a lovely air

Because it thought me the most fair

The kiss I stole it did not secretly give

You cannot trick me and make me believe

You would lie and my heart would gladly follow

But my mind must guard my psyche for the morrow

And it knows that the bird of paradise is wild

It is unpredictable Nature's child

I can never hold it with cage door or bar

I can only be contented to love it from afar

Goodbye Liza

2011-12-06T01:36:00.000-08:00

Goodbye Liza

We had such a good time

But we couldn't keep the second hands

From running on and going past

Goodbye Liza

We had such a good run

But all races have an end

And now we've crossed the finish line

Goodbye Liza

We had us and we and our

But now its you and me

And yours and mine

And somehow I think it will be fine

Hello Liza

As I meet you again

Like a new born baby

Reborn is a friend

Hello Liza

I think I saw you before

You're here were I left you before

Before we opened that door

Hello Liza

I'm actually glad to see you

Lets paint the past in shades of gold

Let this friendship also grow old

Deny me

2011-12-01T20:31:00.000-08:00

It wasn't me

We know it was so don't try to deny it

It wasn't me

We have the evidence right here you can't deny it

It wasn't me

Look now just stop it, we all know you did it

It wasn't me

Fine, maybe the evidence is scarce but we know you did it

It wasn't me

Is that what you tell yourself

It wasn't me

Keep denying it and the only person you'll fool is yourself

It wasn't me

Stop saying that! It was you! It was always you!

It wasn't me

I'm getting sick of your lies!

It wasn't me

Shut up! Just shut up! If it wasn't you then who? Me?

It wasn't me

Oh so now you are saying it was me!

It wasn't me

You're garbage! You don't know what you're talking about!

It wasn't me

Stop! Saying! That! Are you saying I did it? Is that it?

It wasn't me

Fine! Maybe I did do it! But no one will ever know.

It wasn't me.

Shut up! No one will ever know after I blow your stupid brains out!

It wasn't me

BANG!

.....

He...hehhe....hehe

.....

I did it. I silenced you for good.

I....

What was that?

It....

Whose there?

It wasn't....

No!

It wasn't....

No! No! No! It can't be! You're dead!

It wasn't....mmmmm

No! I killed you! You're dead! You're dead!

It wasn't......

Please, please don't say it.

....me

Oh God!

It wasn't me!

Help! Help me! I did it! It was me! It was me! Somebody! Anybody!

It wasn't....

Help....

Go

2011-12-01T04:32:00.000-08:00

Must write

Must get it out

If I keep the poison in

It will consume my bones

Let it go before it burns away

My hands and face and dreams

Keep it too close and soon I'm the slave

But no matter the reasons I could list tonight

I know that come the morrow and it's light

I'll be here on my face again

And I still hold on to nothing

And I hate myself for it

And I tell myself

Let it go

Its no use

Hope is leaving

On a train I cannot board

Maybe it's time

To throw in the towl

To throw myself under

Under the train hope escapes on

The Taste

2011-12-01T04:17:00.000-08:00

And then I tasted

The salt of the labor

Done in vain

Plans

They will never see the light of reality

And then I tasted

The salt of tears

Feeling all hope drain away

Knowing this dream can never be

Plans

*sigh*

They carry red knives in golden arms

And then the taste of salt

Led to bitter and gallfilled dreams

Where the longing once fire in bones

Now leaves only an aching feeling

So empty

So lonesome

Withering shutters of the soul

Watch these pathetic scribbled pangs

Or maybe call them

Life's last passionate convulsions

Revoltions

Fetally I lie

And let my eyes try to remember

How to form tears

But this is a new kind of longing

Heartsick for sure

But certain all the same of

One

The future that will never come

Like an echo of what was

Like a negative photograph

Like the aftertaste of diet soda

Like the aftertaste of arsenic

This is the feeling that greets me now

In quiet hours when others slumber

I shall drink and taste and see

And wish I hadn't

Would I do it again?

How could I just let it go?

Bitter Taste

2011-11-26T02:20:00.000-08:00

This is not a night for sleep

This is a night for the breaking apart

The night when that kept in the deepest

Is finally expunged from all thought

Feel it there, that fimiliar ache

The breaking of the heart as it cries out

Feel the shortness of the breath

Feel the will to live slowly fade away

Because as love is the giver of life

Draining love is like draining blood

Slowly the warmth leaves completely

Until nothing is left but the darkest night

And the feeling and thought slowly rises

The horrid truth that no one wants to see

That perhaps that was all the love to be given

And there would be no more to be received

A life consigned apart and alone

A life to be lived in quiet contemplation

A life forever to taste that bitter truth

That we are always like this. Always.

The Final Farewell

2011-11-26T02:05:00.000-08:00

Hello it's me again

I know its been a while since we talked

But I felt like I should call

At least to say one last thing

It's not that I want to

In fact I dread the sound of your voice

Not because it has lost its song

But because I can still taste the venom

That was left on our lips

When we last spoke

With words so poisonously sweet

So I'm here on your answering machine

Trying to leave you just one last thought

That today as I was sitting at our place

That one that smells like you and looks like me

The one we ran around in the night

The one we sat so close to the firelight

I thought of you and I began to wonder

Can I ever find anyone else to love like you?

Not to be overly romantic

I know it's a sentament as old as love itself

But to find another seems so vital

When love has been the only thing for so long

The only reason to stay alive

But now I've looked at the competition

And the truth is it's not looking so great

It's not that you were really all that special

Its just that a love built over so much time

Built like a castle with layer after layer of stone

Makes everything else afterward

Look like nothing more than a mud hut

And even as the sweetest of our memories

Comes on dainties step to my call

Following close behind is her sister, dread,

Those things I wish I could rather forget

The times when I felt like giving up

When faced against fears and uncertainty

The times when I had to give of myself

And give and give and still smile all the while

Its not to sound like some martyr

I chose this and I bore it with all gladness too

But to call it anything other than a burden

Is to make a fool and a folly of what love truly is

To love is to carry the heaviest burden of all

To love is to fear the greatest fears of all

To love is to lose the greatest part of yourself of all

To love is to die a thousand deaths over and over again

Because love is not an easy thing

No it has never been an easy thing

And the truer the purer the greater the love

The harder and heavier its burden has been

To feel a great pressure that builds so strong

That is the pressure of a love growing great

And I hate myself to thing that the reason we ended

Was because you and I were both afraid of this love

Growing so large and getting out of hand

Is it possible that maybe we needed not to let love go

But to let go of the control we so desparately craved

A thousand different paths play in my mind

What if you had

What if I had

What if we had done something different

But its too late now, isn't it

You' ve gone and I let you go

We are both to blame in all of this

Come sit and share the blame with me

We both loved so greatly

We both feared that love

Feared to get hurt

We both gave up on that love

We both let it go when we shouldn't have

And now we can both only sit

And feel the sand of regret

Run over our skin

Drying, parching, longing for that season

When we ran in the rain

When we sought Him together

When the world was simpler

But that day has passed and so has the season of our love

And I guess there's no point in telling you all this

And so I guess I won't call you back after all

And I won't leave this message on your answering machine

And you won't hear me say my final farewell

Hello, it's me.

So long, my love, my friend.

To Truly Own It

2011-11-26T01:58:00.000-08:00

There was a time

When I would have had you come

All you who were wearied

All you who were heartbroken

And I would have spoken those words

Those words of empty comfort

Words I had no right to speak

Because they were not mine

But then I was the wearied

And now I am the broken hearted

And I feel the weariness of you

And I feel the breaking of you

And now only do I have words of meaning

Those words I have every right to speak

But I cannot speak them

They hurt too much to say

Depart from me now all of you

All you who are wearied

All you who are broken hearted

Depart from me all you who need

All you who are empty

I am only a man

I am empty just as you

We are the empty people

Created empty

Left empty

To die empty

This is who we are

Let us not speak soft words without meaning

To make a comfort that we do not own

This world is a craving and necessity

A hunger pang we can never sate

Shall we look to the brightness of morrow

When today is ashes and still so grey?

We are mortal man and empty woman

We are the sons and daughters of laborpain

We do not live in the morrow

The only day we have is the day of today

We do not own tomorrow

We can only own our today

We may stand alone together

But we will stand alone either way

Points

2011-11-22T01:57:00.000-08:00

They will see this

But you never will

The desperate words I wish I could tell you

But maybe it's better this way

Because if they see me cry

They can laugh

They can judge

They can be as cruel and cold

And I can shake it off

I can stand back up

I'll trip them all eventually

Spit on their faces

As I pour the gasoline

I will always be the winner

But not you

I couldn't

Which is why I guess it's better

That you never see these words I write

Because if you saw them

If you read this confession of my heart

What would you do? What could you do?

Dismiss it, and me with it

Laugh at it, make light of it,

And me with it

Mock it, scorn it, reject it

And me with it

Ignore it, leave it, pretend it isn't here

And me with it

What could you do

That wouldn't kill me too?

So let them all look in

And try to trace lines to old faces

And figure out your name

In the end it doesn't really matter

As long as you don't see this

....

But if you won't see this

Why write it at all?

Is this stupid fucking hope again?

Yes, i called it by it's real name

The hope that loves to lead men on

Before trampling them under it's hard hooves

Hope is a demon, a cruel monster

So I'll pen my words

And keep my thoughts to myself

And I'll never tell you the truth

About how I really feel

And yes maybe they can read this

And yes maybe they can figure it out

But I don't even care anymore

I'm just so fucking tired

Tired of all of this shit

I am tidally locked to you

And you continue spinning without missing a beat

Why write? There seems to be no point anymore

Why live? There seems to be no point anymore

Why love? There seems to be no point anymore

Not I

2011-11-22T01:52:00.000-08:00

Have you ever had a secret

You wished you could tell someone

But you knew you could tell no one

And it slowly killed you from the inside

Because the only person you actually wanted to tell

Is the only person you could never tell

And so you had to keep on going

As if nothing bothered you at all

And pretend you didn't want to scream

Have you ever had those dreams

In which you were finally yourself

And no one judged you for being you

And no Provedencial eye would frown

For the shape He laid your frame in

And then woken from that world

To remember none of it was real

Except the anvil in your chest

That was still all too real

Have you ever felt like this

Probably not. That's okay.

Neither have I.

Nope.

Not me.

I'm fine.

Lachrymosa

2011-11-22T01:48:00.000-08:00

Each day is a step deeper

The water is at my ankles, my chest

Each day it gets darker

The water is at my mouth, my nose

Each day is getting so much harder

The water is at my eyes, my hair

Each day I sink so much further

And my lungs are burning

And my eyes are burning

And my heart is burning

Water everywhere, not a single breath

Water streaming from my eyes

Pouring from my slit wrists

Streaming from my screaming mouth

Everything is silent

Everything is tranquil

Everything is underwater

And I can't get out

I can't get up to take a breath

And its killing me slowly

Day by day

Soon

Very soon

The water will cover me completely

It is coming

What was reflected in the glass

2011-11-21T23:13:00.000-08:00

It hovers

Just there above the pulsing highway

That runs from my heavy heaving heart

To the points of my finger tips

The cool of the cut is so near

I feel it's presence like an old friend

My friend

You hover there above the artery of my soul

That bleeds across my bedsheets tonight

Runs along the contours of my blanket

And streams in long, thin streams

To the pools on the cold floor

That dripping sound is an empty echo

As empty as the memories of us

So rich in potential

And yet here we are

Or more accurately here I am

Your oblivion is envious

Your careless acts like a million shards of glass

I can only crawl across this hard floor

Snatch up each shard as a precious memory

And slowly drain away all feeling, all pain

I am beginning to lose hope for us

Not that there was any there to begin

But the more I lie here

Under their heavy gazes

The more I understand that that future was never real

That it was a virtual future

A game that I played in my head

Where only one ending was ever sure

But I refused to even think about it

Because I knew that reality burns much too hot

And you cannot hold it for too long

Before it marks you, scars you forever more

But I have beat reality at its game

I have drawn my own scars already

Form their lines according to my designs

But even now there are still these two beating arteries

That somehow refuse to connect

And I am loosing hope for them

I am loosing all my hope

And soon I may give up altogether

On this hope

On this dream

On this empty life

Lying alone on the floor

A Day

2011-11-05T17:50:00.000-07:00

A day dawns

That needs a friend

But no friend was to be found

A day when all the saddness of the world

In faded shades of blue and grey

Seem to flood my tiny soul

When words once utter by the others

I told myself could not be true

Now seem too true

That all love fades away in the end

Some faster others slower

But in the end all

So what then is the point of love

Why play this game

That's doomed to die?

A day that needed love

And realized that there was none in the world

None at all

A day that can only end

End one way

End in glorious, endless sleep

Stay Away

2011-11-04T03:45:00.000-07:00

You are such pure souls

I am nothing more

Nothing more than a poison

Stay away from me

All I do is corrupt

And my ever thought leads to your damntation

And though I plant a thousand seeds

Of a thousand evil intentions

Still not a single one bears fruit in your garden

Truly I am evil and you are good

Truly I have no business being near you

Except that by seeing this truth you have

That shines ever more the falseness in me

I now realise myself more fully

That I am nothing more than this evil form

Trapped inside this evil me

Stay away

Just please please

Stay

One Word

2011-11-03T22:58:00.000-07:00

What started this avalanche?

A simple pebble dislodged from the side

Of the mighty mountain's peak

A simple word spoken without thought

Its echoes reverberated through the valley's gape

And every tree shuddered with its sound

And nothing would ever be the same again

Snow packed down by years of frost

Laid down in winters, primal and young

Accumulated over so many years

There was so much snow, so so much

And that one word was all it took

Took to break apart those invisible walls

Those floodgates that had held all back

And then the mountain rumbled intensely

And the snow began to move after years of still

The snow slid sown the mountain with slow purpose

Like the white bridal gown sliding off tender shoulders

That rumbling, churning, wall of destruction

Dislodged danger summoned by a word

A single, simple, lonely little word

It broke the mountain's face apart

And revealed the granite hidden for so long

And the tumbling, grinding, insatiable snow

That broke away trees planted in nice neat rows

It cascaded over lodges, over pines and burrows

Nothing was scared nothing was spared

The destruction was coming to all the same

What started this avalanche this painful metaphor?

One word was all it took on that day

One word from you is all it's ever taken

Decentralizaton

2011-11-03T04:28:00.000-07:00

In twilight hours

The flame flickers

And my thoughts flicker in time

And keep the steps of the dance

The dance of the flame

And it follows paths construed in early days

Passing through notebooks long forgot

Back to a boy riding the bus

Who dared to ink paper, oh so young

And dared to pen the words he knew nothing about

Words such as love and pain

Words such as life and the emptiness behind it all

Words about words

I have looked for this little boy

I would sit under his wide arching brows

And listen to the wisdoms he would teach

How I long to find him again

Have you seen him, o flittering flame?

Where he might be?

I sit here and hold my first grey hair

And wonder, how soon is my story told?

Morose thoughts for such a night

When the universe keeps spinning

Regardless of where I am here or not

Life goes on as if I were no more

So why should I think myself so tall

So smart to have found the meaning of poesy

I shall recline in glorious slumber with my fathers

And rest in the earth, that ever vault of man

And the earth shall not be bitter to my taste

For I know it goes on without me there

How relieving to know this simple fact

That the world truly no longer revolves around me

Eau d'Voux

2011-10-28T02:11:00.000-07:00

It haunts my dreams

The scent I found

As I drew near you

It wafted and perfumed the air

Like Cleopatra's barge upon the Nile

I smelled the summer sun

Concentrated through years

Like the barley and wheat

When the wind blows through the ears

Ruffling wonton like a woodland nymph

Basking her golden skin in the sun

The scent of the reapers whose sickle sharp

Their song rising above the late summer sky

The golden ears of corn gather

Winnow and thrash till all remains

The perfect kernel of summer gold

Concentrated sunlight and with the scent

Of the woodland dances of midsummer eve

When bonfires large as columns for the sky

Lit the faces of young lovers and friends

Neath a star studded night

When the korn was baked into fresh bread

When the wine was new and the dance free

When ivy wound about fair youths heads

And the sound of singing filled the night

As warm breezes ruffled the trees

To pull the first of the yellowed leaves off

That is the scent I found on your skin

The scent of summer's last day

Filled with the joy and quiet contentment

Of days spent reaping the rich fruits

And drinking deep of Ganymede's cup

Were I to take eagle form

And disturb the cup and bearer

Who alone has this aroma about them

Living incense to drive me mad

Or remain unseen above

My eagle pinions ruffled by rough winds

To look only down at the distant figure

That Cleopatra, that Ganymede

I shall remain aloft

And not disturb the sleeping Endymion

Save to draw near and drink of the cup

While the sleeper dost sleep

But ere Dawn rises again I alight

And not disturb the Day with the Moon's presence

And then you had to Come

2011-10-28T01:53:00.000-07:00

I thought that I knew what I was talking about

And then you had to come

And I thought I knew what I was doing about

These thoughts and feelings inside

And then you had to come

I thought that maybe the inevitable could be avoided

That, I don't know, maybe things would change

Or that maybe knowing would make it easier

And then you had to come

And even though no matter which trail

I follow the ends are none of them good

Even the best, the very best end

Will never be the happily ever after

And then you had to come

I thought I understood the star cross'd lovers

Till now

Now I know that they had it easy

Things in the real world get much too complicated

And I feel like I'm rambling again...

And then you had to come

But I know that day is coming

The darkest day for me

The brightest day for you

and because it is a bright day for you

It shall be both dark and bright for me

And because it is dark for me

I know it shall be bright and dark for you too

Because words never spoke

But spoken through a thousand acts

Can leave no doubt about where the piece stand

And what the final move must be

Has always must be

And then you had to come

Fate had a firmer grip on you it seems

Or maybe her hand on me

Has pushed you where I can never trod

This is not love scorned or unreturned

This is love returned even more full

Yet the deck is set against both players

And in the end Lady Luck is a cruel mistress

To throw two dice together in her bowl

Only to scattered them across the playing board

So far removed

And then you had to come

And I realized just what I wanted

And could never let myself have

For your sake

For my sake

Certain roads that beckon and call

Shall never be answered

Some adventures we will forgo

This all I had perfectly decided on

And then you had to come

And again each time I made up my mind

To set myself far apart

To resist your smiles and slurred speech

Each time firmer in my determination still

And then you had to come

And break harder your waves upon the dam

And break my will asunder again

And again

and again

Till once more I tasted the turkish delight

And knew the fruit and the tree it came from

And the taste of mortality on my lips

And then you had to come

And make me want after your poison yet again...

Lethe's Flight (Unfinished)

2011-10-28T01:37:00.001-07:00

How strange are these

children of the tears

that poor Lethe shed

Ere she fled from that lord

So noble of birth

And whose kingdom vast

Encompasses the earth

And whose dark form

All mortals turn to in time

When my lord Aides did

In the summer of her youth

Pursue that fair nymph

Through subterranean ways

Where cthonic streams

Gurgled from the mirk

And seeped across landscapes

Never yet blessed by the sun

Nor moon, or twinkling star's faint light

Where Night and Day have no rule

But all is shadows and shade

And the dominion of the lord

Of the darkest realms

When Lethe, still in her youth,

Did seek refuge from his unsought suit

She called in voice of supplicant tone

To her father great Okeanous of old

That Great Circumference of the world

And raising prayers and her tears

She cried to him and said, "My Father,

Great Circumference of the world

Shall the immortals now look upon you with shame

And say your power has diminished since those days

When first you bound Gaia in her place

She whom all the immortals spring from

Shall the acorn now say it is mightier than the oak

So rise up now and stir from your sleep

Lest your daughter's tears go unheard

And the immortal gods who dwell on Olympos

Say no more strength dwells in your arms

To save even her you once called dearest to you!"

And whilst the nymph praying her father so

Was yet in the field of the boulders

That barren wasteland that lies twixt

The realms of fiery Tartarus to the south

And the shadow regions from wence rise

The seeping Styx, that curs'd river

Upon which even Zeus does swear

And where even vampyric furries

Fear to fly when by them selves

And so running she in that bouldered land

Heard the young lord in high chase behind

His victory near, his prize in hand

That her father turned his aged head

And heard the pleas of the simple nymph

And rose a might wall in that plain

Twixt his daughter and the lord

who commands Cerberus the dog of three

Lean Not On Your Own Understanding

2011-10-20T22:30:00.000-07:00

I walk this path in darkest night

Along the desert of my soul

And I come once more to the place

Where the bodies lay in the sand

Severed in half

A sacred promise

Your torches passed here

Your words echoed on the breeze

and I was foolish enough to believe them

You made a promise

You said things would be different

Your torches passed between them

Half dead corpses on both sides

Oxen, sheep, doves who never did wrong

You or me

They were killed

Their blood spilled because....

You said this would be different

You said we would be together

Forever

And I believed

You said that these things took time

You said that no one would come between us

You said that all I had to do was trust

Trust You

And I believed the promise

I wept for the promise

I waited for the promise

I waited

But yet

You never came

I sat by myself

Under this sycamore tree

I climbed its branches

Till I reached the stars

And plucking them from the firmament

The wall that was built

You built between us

I threw the stars of heaven to the earth

To reach the place

The place I heard I could find

You

But heaven was an empty sepulcher

And I couldn't understand why

I must have misunderstood somehow

How could I have been so foolish to believe

That if I were to climb to the highest heavens

I would find

You

And I blamed myself

I said it must have been me

I crept down from the sycamore tree

Under the cold eyes of scornful angels

Who reminded me I did not belong

Belong with

You

So I crept along the tree

Till I came to the dust

Back to the dust

To the ashes to ashes

To where my home was

And I lay in the dust

And when my friends came to me

I told them to depart

For I had not seen the foundations of the earth

And I could not hook Leviathan

And I was but dust

and ashes spent

So I took to the flames

And buried myself in the breath of life

And a pyre was above me

And the gold of the idols

Dripped between the stones

And the drops of molten gold seared

As they dropped down and coated my skin

Till I was a golden man

And idol in the images of men in the images of gods

In the image of G-d

And I sat in the flames as a god

And I wept in the flames as only a god may weep

And I knew my place was here in Sheol

And I hoped that I could find in between gnashing teeth

You

But lo, I was still alone

And anger consumed my soul

I had waited for You

I had wept for You

I had believed You

And I errupted from beneath the earth

As the sun

And burned with fiercest harshest light

And I screamed at the morning

The morning that was me

And I hated the dawn

I hate you Dawn!

My anger was kindled

And the fingers of hatred brushed my soul

With an icy shutter as pale as snow

And I fell away from the earth

Until I floated listlessly

Listless in the hyperborean sea

The wings of the dawn were dying

And the uttermost was all I had

And even there in the end of days

When I had forsaken all others

When I had followed You

Still You hid from me

As if this was some sort of game

As if my love for You was some game

I shed this godly form

And returned my golden heart for one of flesh

And life flooded my veins

Along with the bitterest of dread

I sat upon the edge of the world

My feet dangling into space

And stars spun around them

Following the currents of the wind

And that was when

Then of all times and in all space

That You came to me

Grew a tree to give me shade

And returned all my sons and daughters to me doubled

As if that somehow replaced the ones You took away

And as the final note of the last trump died off key

Then You chose to ride in on Your white horse

And looked at me with that perplexed look in Your eyes

That just couldn't seem to understand why

Why I was angry

Why I was hurt

Why I no longer would take You at Your Word

Look back at Rachel weeping for her children

Look back at the burning cities

And see the Salt of Compassion

The ever present pillar that is the ever present witness

To what You have done

And all of this, My Love

Why?

Because You weren't sure of my heart?

Testing me to see if I would give my all

You knew this from the very start

Why bring a ram and rooster into it at all?

So where does that leave us?

You and I?

I sit here watching the cosmos roll by

You stand there watching me waiting for a response

Soon my time will draw near

And then what sight will we see?

Can You love me and watch me suffer like this for ever?

Can You love me and extinguish the smoldering wick?

Can You love me and hide Your face when I need You?

Did You ever love me at all?

Hated Decisions

2011-10-19T02:41:00.000-07:00

Each day I hate you less

Just a little little less

And I seem to find the space

To start breathing once again

When I hear the songs once ours

When a memory once sweet

Threatened to overwhelm

Now less strength carries it

But your love has been a poison

And I drank deeply every day

Until it burned away my marrow

And ashen was my soul

Your love was an addiction

An addiction for myself

I loved loving and loving you

Being loved was falsest health

For under the guise of smiles and poesy

Under the light of fireworks and the moon

Your love was a vine wrapping around me

Boa constrictor to my art and my muse

But your poisoned arrow

Was doubly tipped

For not only was my art affected

But then also did your bitter taste strike

And extinguished my trust's light

And now when I feel another heart beating

When I look at her standing close by my side

When I see another whose love is worth keeping

The barb in my chest reminds me by tide

That once I placed my trust in a girl

Once I made her my entire world

Once I loved her with all of my being

And she tore it and broke it and spat on my dreams

And so the raven comes to my heart

And speaks to my logic, my hurt, and my art

And reminds me the vow the broken must keep

Nevermore nevermore until I sleep

Love is not near nough with Lethe in kind

To make me forget the poison of your kind

Burning Bridges

2011-09-27T21:19:00.000-07:00

"Maathi! Maathi! They're burning the orchard!"

The old woman slowly raised herself from where she had been inspecting the roots of a gnarled almond tree. The boy ran down the dirt path, his bare feet beating the dust as his lungs stretched to their limited with his panting breaths.

"Jannis. What's the matter?" She said as the boy collided into her, wrapping small arms around her thighs, pressing his face to her as he sobbed. "There, there my child. What is the matter?"

"The orchards. Our family orchards. They're burning them." The child raised his large, swollen eyes to the old woman. "What will we eat if they burn them, Maathi?"

The old woman placed her cool, dark hand against his red, burning cheek and spoke reassuringly, "There, there. Jani. Everything will be alright. If they burn your orchard, then you can come eat from mine. Did you see the papaya's down by the riverbank? They are as big as your head already. There is no need to fret."

The child still clung to her, but she felt the sobs die down. She placed her hand reassuringly upon his head as she looked to the two other women with her. The younger of the pair looked towards the direction the child had run from, the Jones Farm on the other side of the river.

"Wangari?" She said pointing towards the smoke rising above the trees, "Do you think they will come here next?"

"Tamar. Take Jannis inside and get him some juice." She answered, handing the child to the younger woman. "Helvi and I will go talk to them."

As they walked up the path, the sheer silence of the moment seemed to breathe terror. The small section of forest before the clearing was unusually quiet. As if the forest knew what true terror was lurking on its way through the darkness within.

"Wangari, you don't think they'll cross the bridge, do you?" Helvi asked, trying to match her stride. "They know that the international community will not just sit back and let them breach the clear demarcation boundary."

"This is not about my farm and my orchards. This is about my neighbor's orchard." Wangari said as she continued her march towards the river. "Helvi, if you want you can stay behind with Tamar and Jannis. But I would appreciate having you at my side when I speak with them."

Helvi simply nodded and decided to turn the tape recorder in her pocket on. She might not be a lot of help in their confrontation but at the very least she could document what happened. And she could be there to help Wangari.

"There they are. Up ahead."

They walked out onto the riverbank where the small bridge spanned the rushing torrent. On the other side a group of men stood around the two bodies lying on the ground. They didn't seem to notice the two women on the other side as they kicked the forms and spat on them.

"You! There! What do you think you are doing?" Wangari was suddenly more angry than she had ever been in her life. The rage consumed her and she couldn't stop her mouth as she continued yelling, "Those people have done nothing to you!"

"Old woman, stop your yelling!" One called back as the rest turned to look at her. "We're here to help you take back our land!"

"From whom exactly?" She called back, already knowing the answer.

"From the imperialist! We are here for the good of our people! Go back to your house and make us some food. You should be thanking us." They laughed at this comment and Wangari clenched her fists.

"Do not try to teach me about manners! You obviously have none! Behaving like animals, destroying a family who never harmed you in any way! You should all be ashamed of yourselves! You bring shame to our people!" She called back, turning her back on them in a sign of dishonor.

"You old hag!" The leader called, throwing down the stick he had been using to hit the two bodies, grabbing the gun he had given to a comrade. "You don't turn your back on us! Maybe we should teach you some respect!"

The group grabbed their machetes and guns as they advanced towards Wangari on the other side of the river. They were shouting and yelping, making obscene gestures towards the old woman and her companion while gripping the ropes on the bridge.

"Wangari! We should go!" Helvi said, taking the old woman's arm.

"No. You stay here." Wangari said, as she moved forward on the bridge to meet the men.

The group moved towards the figure walking towards them, hefting guns as if to scare her.

"Old woman! You are a fool! You should have run while you could."

"I will warn you only once. Do not come any closer. You have already destroyed enough life today. Turn back and do no more harm." She answered, looking the leader in the eye with a look that said she pitied him.

"We have not even spilled a quarter of the blood that will run this day! And yours will be the next blood to flow!" The leader called, his eyes burning with anger.

"Well, I warned you." The old woman said, sitting down on the wooden slats.

"We are the ones warning you!" The leader shrieked as they reached her. "There is no use begging and bowing now!"

The old woman looked into each of their faces as the one with the largest machete stepped forward, letting the sun gleam off his blade.

"You're all just children. I am sorry that you will all have to die today. I am old. I have helped people and have lived life. But you. You have barely tasted it. I am sorry. So, so sorry." She said as she closed her eyes.

The group jostled to get closer to her when they heard it. The snap. The entire bridge lurched to the side as it swung horizontally. They grabbed frantically at the ropes to find a hold as one of the group fell into the rushing currents below.

"What did you do, you old fool!" Yelled the leader as the bridge swung back like a pendulum, a few more of the men falling into the river.

"I'm not the one who didn't read the sign. It says the bridge can only hold two people at a time. You should have seen the signs." She said, not opening her eyes.

There was another snap, followed by another and the entire bridge disintegrated into a jumble of wooden slats, trapped limbs, and snake-like rope binding all together. For a moment this strange conglomerate creature hovered in the gap above the river. Then it seemed to slowly descend and disappear into the rushing water below.

We Implore Thee

2011-09-26T01:00:00.000-07:00

Now hear this word

That we dare to ask

Dare to utter

O Utterness of All

Now wait for us

we are so slow

Slowly we begin to see

O Seeing of All

What would u have of Me?

O Utter-Seeing

O see Utterly

See what we have become

See and do not see away

What would u have of Me?

we are so tired

Yes we can barely stay awake

And yet still

we cannot sleep

we are hungry

Oh so hungry for something

And yet we cannot

Cannot force ourselves to eat

What would u have of Me?

we are thirsty

Oh we thirst to death

And yet water has become

Like a poison to our lips

No ointment for our wounds

What would u have of Me?

No balm for our bruises

What would u have of Me?

No cure for this plague

What is it to Me?

What?

What is it to Me?

Look about u

u who do not deserve

Even as many letters as u

Torment will be ur bread

Salt tears will be ur drink

Make which ever bed u will

But only nightmares will I visit on u

Look here I fill a world for u

And then I shall take it away

And then I shall replace it again

With this right hand

With this left cosmic yoyo

And if u dare not trust Me

After I am done with My play

My plan

Far worse will I do to u

Be humble!

we are humble

BE THANKFUL

we are thankful

BE NOTHING BUT DUST

we are nothing but dust

BE NOTHING BUT VAPOR

we are nothing but vapor

BE NOTHING

we are nothing

THOU art everything

Now what would u have of Me?

Everything

For thou are everything

And we are nothing

Good

It is very good

Roses in June (Unfinished)

2011-09-24T15:59:00.000-07:00

"Where is the florist!"

Danielle wanted to scream until every last one of the crystal champagne flutes exploded. This couldn't be happening. Not today. Not today of all days.

"Erin!' The maid of honor hoped out of her chair at the mention of her name.

"It's okay, Danielle. I'm sure they'll be here." She said, rubbing her friend's shoulders as Danielle covered her eyes and began sobbing. "Shhh. They'll be here. Don't worry."

"They were supposed to be here last night!" She said, pulling away and stomping to the window.

"Dominque said that they haven't called and no one has been able to get a hold of them." Erin said, tucking a brown curl behind her ear. "At this point, maybe we should try to make it work without the flowers."

Danielle had sat down on one of the maroon chairs and and looked up at Erin with fire in her eyes. "We. Can't. Have. A. Wedding. Without. Fucking. Flowers!"

Erin ducked as the telephone on the side table was thrown at her.

"Jeez, calm down Dani." She said, backing up a bit. "Yes you can."

"There won't be any centerpieces on any of the tables at the reception!" She said, tears beginning to flow again.

"Shhh. It's okay. We still have the candles." Erin said, directing one of the spectator bridemaids to pick up the fallen phone. "We can put them in the middle and make it very minimilist. You said yourself that you don't want your wedding to be tacky. This way. It will be. Classy."

Danielle sniffed and looked down at her small feet squeezed into the pair of white Prada's she had received last summer. For a moment she felt like everything would be okay. Then her shoulders tensed and began shaking. Her gloved white hands dug into the red velvet she sat on. Her makeup streaked eyes locked onto her maid of honors as she spat, "And what about my bouquet!?!"

The smile on Erin's face died down. In her mind she was quickly weighing options. Danielle was her best friend. So booking it out of the doors and escaping wasn't an option. Danielle was the one who had insisted on having the wedding at the mountain lodge, almost a 2 hour drive away from the nearest town so there would be no back up florist. And because they were way up in the mountains there wasn't a chance of finding any flowers there, wild or otherwise. Erin was running out of options.

"What if we improvise with some lace and some pine branches." The look on Danielle's face told Erin she wasn't buying it. "I mean. In case the florist doesn't show up."

"I'm. Supposed. To walk. Down the aisle. On my WEDDING DAY! Carrying a fricking tree?!?!" Erin sighed and closed her eyes as Danielle went on to list all the people she hated and blamed or this happening.

"Well, hun. Listen, I'm going to go grab some of them. Just the small, thin branches. They'll fit with the location too. In the meantime. Here. Have some champagne to clam your nerves."

Danielle chugged the alcohol and threw the glass against the wall, sending bride's maids scattering and covering their heads.

Erin just shook her head and walked out of the room, smoothing her black silk dress. She opened the door to walk straight into another person. Miles stood in the doorway with his hand raised, mid-knock.

"Erin?"

"Miles!" She grabbed his arm. "Good. I'm glad you're here. She needs someone to calm her down till I get back."

"Did you find the florist?" He asked, dragged into the anteroom.

Erin turned sharply on her high heels and looked him in the eye while lowering her voice, "Don't mention this to anyone. Especially Danielle. But. The florist went to the wrong lodge. They're on the other side of the mountain and won't be here until 3 at the latest."

"But the wedding is supposed to start at–" Miles began before Erin's finger was shoved on his lips as Danielle walked into the room.

"Miles? Any news from the florist?" She asked, drying her eyes.

"Danielle. God, you look awful." He said, holding out his arms.

She began to cry again and slowly walked to him, clutching him by the coat lapels as she cried into his vest. Erin shook her head and gave him a look that said, "you're a moron" before she turned to go on her mission to go find flowers.

"Come on, let's get you some water." Miles said as he led her back to her room.

He nodded with his head that the rest of the bride's maids should clear out so they would have the room to themselves.

"So, what exactly is happening?" Miles asked looking confused.

"Everything is going wrong." She said, walking over to the window, having regained a semblance of control of herself. "The stupid florist just disappeared."

"I see." Miles said, swallowing.

"What?" She turned on him, "You know something! Admit it! Where are they!?"

Miles slide further down on the bed to get away from her as she advanced on him. "I don't know anything. I swear!"

"Miles." She said, leaning over him, piercing his soul with her gaze, "Don't think. That you can lie to me. Because you can't."

"Ha!" Miles said, ducking out from under her and standing up, adjusting his lapels. "Please. I've lied to you for years and you never caught on."

"What?" She said, now the one sitting on the bed as she rolled her eyes, "The fact that you and Evette aren't really together? Please, I could tell you weren't interested in her from the start."

"Was it that obvious?" He said, smiling and sitting down next to her.

"Well, you two did book separate flights here, separate rooms in the lodge, and I've barely seen you in the same room. So yeah." She said, flicking him none too gently on the forehead, "Just a bit obvious."

"Hey." He said, rubbing his forehead. "You haven't done that to me in a long time. Not since–"

"Don't." She said, standing up. "That's the other thing Miles."

He remained sitting on the bed, looking at her back, where the bodice of the white satin wrapped around like two thick, flat arms, connecting in a line of pearl buttons running down her back to disappear in the folds of chiffon.

"I know you're still in love with me." She said turning, her gloved fingers running over each other. "I know you've tried to pretend like you got over me. But I've felt it. I've felt your gaze lingering. I've felt the way you touch me arm when you're passing."

Miles didn't say anything. In his mind he was running through all the subtle things he had done since arriving at the lodge. He was trying to figure out where he had been too blunt. What would have made her talk to him like this.

"It's sweet. It really is." She said, crossing her arms, "But it's also sad. You've got to move on. I mean, there are plenty of fish out there."

She smiled slightly as she said it. For a moment she did relish the feeling that someone couldn't get over her. It gave her an intoxicating thrill. But at the same time she felt bad for him. Her friend. She cared for him too. Just not in that way.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Miles said, getting up and grabbing one of the glasses, sipping from the fizzing amber liquid.

"Miles. Please." She said, placing her hand on his arm and squeezing it softly, "You have to let it go. We were both too young and stupid and just not ready."

Miles finished off his flute and then turned away from her, looking out of the window. When she walked over she saw he was smiling. She didn't know why but for some reason it made her stomach turn.

"What?" She asked, breathing in deeply, "Why are you smiling?"

"Because if were not going to play pretend anymore then I guess I should at least be helpful. Do you still need a bouquet? Because I got one for Evette. It's up in her room right now. She hasn't even looked at it. It's yours if you want."

Danielle felt a ray of hope. She wouldn't have to walk down the aisle with a tree. She would have a bouquet! Maybe her wedding day wouldn't be ruined after all.

"What are they?" She asked, as her hopes suddenly dove. "They're not carnations, are they? You know how allergic I am to them."

"Nope." He said, smiling, "White lilies. Come on. We can go grab them right now. Evette is out at the bar already."

"Oh, she is a classy one, isn't she?" Danielle smiled.

"Come on." Miles said, leading Danielle from the room by her hand.

They rode the elevator up, the soft classical music pouring down on them, filling the room with peaceful quiet. She looked down at her small Pradas again and over at his shoes. He was wearing his Prada's too. From their trip to Milan. Out of the whole group they had been the only ones to actually buy shoes while there. Her gaze traveled up his suit. She could tell it was expensive. The material had a certain sharp texture to it. A crispness.

"It's French." He said, catching her gaze in the reflection of the bronze elevator door.

"Oh. I hadn't even notticed." She lied, focusing instead on the numbers slowly climbing upward.

The rest of the elevator trip was spent in silence. The classical music stifled the air and droned tensely.

"This is it." He said, just as the elevator doors opened.

The long hallway extended before them, dark mahogany doors lining the plush red velvet carpet, while the lights spaced between them seemed to tone everything cold. She followed him down the hallway. And as they walked she couldn't help but think this is what it would be like. Him. Her. Her wedding day. The hotel hallway. Had things been different.

"It's just in here." He said, sliding the key into the door and opening the heavy brass handle.

The door opened into a dark room that was stifling and warm. Like a garden on a summer night, she thought. The scent of lilies blossomed across their senses. He stepped inside and she followed, the only light coming from the white, dull lights in the hallway. Then he flicked on a switch and the whole room changed.

"There we go." He said, as the warm lamps and lights across the room lit it up in tones of burnt umber and reds. "Sorry. She had the light's set for some... alone time last night."

"I see." Danielle said, holding her dress up as she walked in. As if to say how disgusted she was with the little slut, "But you were at the bachelor's party last night, weren't you."

"Yeah." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Anyway. They're right over here."

He walked into the small bathroom and pulled them out form behind the sink. She gave him a look that asked a dozen of questions. He just smiled and motioned to the large bouquet of sunflowers, carnations, and roses standing on the dresser. "Well, apparently I was outdone anyway. She won't miss the lilies."

"Thanks." She said, taking the flowers from him.

For a moment she just stood there, the light of the hallway illuminating them both from behind.

The Font of Phlegethon

2011-09-21T20:57:00.000-07:00

Tongue in cheek

They trod the trail

The led upon the path of old

When the world was thin

and the air was frail

And all was lost

To the thing so bold

That dared to rise

With the wondering eyes

And call upon names

That should never be named

And the world grew still

And all life grew ill

And the waste of the world

and its treasures now gone

Quivered and shuttered

With the scream of the wronged

And when the ice broke free

And the waters broke forth

And the gaping void

Was all to be seen

Then the crackling fire

And then the light of desire

And rising the phoenix

With plumes of gold

Shrouded in light

Burning from old

Bound about the world

Its feathery embrace

And screamed in pain

As immolation was tast'd

And then there was fire

Oh, there was fire

Encasing, embracing, enchanting

fire

And the land was burnt

And cinders flew

And ash was tasted

By the mouths of the faithful

Who dared to drink

Of the font of Phlegethon

And feel the rising

of the passions of Eros

Gurgling as blood

Rising as bile

Stronger than the Nile

Wider than their pain

Overwhelming their senses

But the goblet is deep

Much deeper than a man

And those who dare drink

Of this font of Phlegethon

Are doomed to drown

In it's fiery embrace

And doomed to burn

To burn with cold hatred

To taste the ashes

More sorrowful than death

To feel the breaking

The breaking of their soul

And when Phlegethon has risen

And its waters have grown deep

The baptism of the damned

Begins with the beat

The beat of the drum

Of the broken hearted

The beat of the trodding

Upon the path

Called redemptionless

No Lethe to sleep and forget

No Mnemosyne and regret

No Acheron pours full in force

The pain of a thousand souls in its course

For the font of Phlegethon is deeper still

Darker than the night

Sweeter than rue

As fragrant as a corpse

With irony glued

Together piecemail and rough

A phantom to walk

And feed on the lost

For here in Hell there is much to fear

The wicked deceivers

The red handed killers

Those who would be a false friend

Those who make this a darker end

But then there are those more feared than Death

the dark master who brings all rest

They are those who are drunk on the damned font

Those who have tasted and hungered and hunt

Those who have gone through the flame of desire

Those who have gone through the pain of the pyre

Those who have traded their left eyes for vision

Those who have eaten the fruit of derision

Those who have no more love in their soul

For their soul has been traded for the burning coal

Taken from the hearth of that flaming band

Taken from Phlegethon's burning hand

Do not speak to them when they are found

Do not near them wherever they be bound

Do not look into their darkened eyes

Do not stop to say your goodbyes

For the beasts are loose upon the world

Their flaming tongues now uncurled

And they will not spare you

They will not even think

And when they kill you

They won't even blink

Flee from the flames

Before they reach you

For soon comes the day

When you will drink too

Bricks in the sand

2011-08-29T22:50:00.000-07:00

Pick it up

Put it in

Grind the gravel in between

And let run the sand

Put down tar

Put down mortar

Pick it up

Put it in again

Today is not a day

To let bricks lie scattered in the sand

Pick it up

Pick it up again

Slide it in

Smear more on

What? No more water

Use your tears then

Your tears in the sand

Make more mortar

Pick it up

Put it in

Don't dare drop

Not a single brick in the sand

Hear the hushed wind behind you

That is their collective sigh

The ones who rely on your progress

Without you like bricks in the sand

Pick it up

Pick them up

Pick yourself up from the sand

Now is not the time

To run out of sand

Keep it going

Keep on walking

Pick them up

And slide the cogs in and

Set their gears in motion

Keep it running

Keep on moving

Don't stop working

Slide the bricks on the sand

This is your fate now

This is your life now

Making bricks from the sand

There was never more

There is never more

And nevermore will there be

Anything in this wide world

Other than bricks, and sand, and men

Wait

What are you doing?

Pick back up those brick on the sand!

Are you crazy to drop them

Crazy to mock them

Crazy to lay down and die in the sand

Get up at least

Get back to building your wall

What are you doing?

Where are you going?

Stop your running?

Running from the sand

It is never ending

It is never failing

It is never breaking

These bricks and the never ending sea of sand

Lenore's Curse

2011-08-26T12:17:00.001-07:00

Round and round

These thoughts keep turning

These feelings keep churning

And I wish that for a second

However brief

This spinning would stop

And grant me relief

These echoes that should

By now have died down

But no matter how I plant my feet

My head and heart keep spinning round

And round and round

Endless the loop and unchanging the cycle

Of the path that goes on forever

And while I hope that the end draws near

I still hear you say, "never, never"

Apposite Ness

2011-08-18T00:59:00.000-07:00

There is a little thistle bush

Above the roaring sea

And this tiny little thistle bush

Hung high and precariously

Its fingers dug into the stone

The mammoth standing all alone

Its mighty face unmoved by shadow

The storms above the sea far below

While this small little thistle bush

Hung between the sea and sky

And this bristle little thistle bush

With roar of waves and sea bird cry

No longer could recall its own life story

How it came to rest upon the promitory

From distant lands bathed in spice

Where inscenced air infused all life

And flowers tropical and large

Perfumed the sail of junk and barge

That sailed the rivers twixt collumns bare

Half eaten statues of the Huntress and the Hare

Where lazy ivy coiled round long lost words

Recalling songs only the stones had heard

Was this the home from where this bush hailed

Upon the wind's delicate wings had sailed

And carried aloft by the wonton breeze

Into the feathered arms of the night, its ease

Did take in the frosty vaults of the star's abode

Pulled in the celestial maelstrome around the lode

And there in boreal frosty heavens it brushed

Upon telesian trails trod by angels hushed

And there it sought it's roots to grasp

And draw the ambrosia that drips from angelic gasps

But the celestial glass would afford no hold

And the frozen star's of heaven were too cold

And so departing from the gates of the night

It continued on it's sojourning flight

Long was the night that led to the dawn

Long was the wait until new life was reborn

Long was the trail that the thistle seeds took

For earth could not compare once upon heaven looked

And finally caught up in the fickle Zephyrian bands

That swept it amidts clouds of these foreign lands

Where the flash of Jove cut the clouds with fire

And the rain fell as stones while the wind roared with ire

And the sea churned white with foam and dread

And the stirrer of storms called forth the drowned dead

And amidst all this there was caught the thistleseed

That searched for any place to land and bleed

Until the wind buffeted it against the iron cliff face

And over and again it felt life to be erased

But then as darkness enclosed the husk

And the light of day was enveloped in dusk

There was a second spark then born

As the seed then was completely transformed

And so the little thistle bush came to rest

Upon the cliff face that all life did detest

And it clung there with all of its might

Burned in the day and frozen in the night

But it refused to give up its desperate fight

And instead was changed into the painter's delight

For with raging sea foam crested below

And churning heavens with sunlight aglow

And unmoved antedeluvian cliffs of stone

A single bush of green persevered alone.

Can you hear me?

2011-08-02T23:46:00.000-07:00

This is the desperate cry

The call echoing through the night

The breaking day that needs to be let out

The rising fall of my heart tonight

That rises to scream and shout

Can you hear me?

Can you hear me now?

Can you feel me?

I'm right there in the dark

When the world is

Falling in and apart

I am right here

By the beat of your heart

Follow trails of glowing footprints

Gretel, Gretel take hold of my hand!

Follow trails of frozen tear drops

To where the dark house waits in a dark land

Follow the sound, if you can even hear

Follow the sound of the beating heartbeat

Follow my voice and know I am near

Trace the tears upon your pillow

And spell my name with salty line

Whisper my name to the nightdarkness

And promise to always be mine

And then you will find me

And I will appear

And then I will hold you

And never

Ever

Let go again

Can you hear me?

Can you hear my whisper on the breeze?

Can you feel me?

My heart beating, breaking for these...

Excerpt from Judas (Short Story, Full Version to Follow Soon)

2011-07-18T20:58:00.000-07:00

The wheel on the shopping cart needed to be oiled badly. It squeaked in a rhythmic pulse like a bird being buffeted by a metrenome. Jake tried to ignore it as he walked down the isle. The florescent lights overhead flickered slightly. Flickering in time to the bird-metrenome-wheel squeak. As he walked past the shelves, littered with the remains of the once bountiful produce isle, he barely registered the field of scattered beans his squeaking wheels were navigating towards the back.

“Ah. My favorite customer.” the swathy man in a smeared and stained green apron beamed as he greeted Jake with a smile that was all teeth.

“Your only customer.” Jake corrected him with a glare.

Along with the sighing, the glaring was a recent addition to his face’s repottoire. His normally passive eyes had learned a fiery new shade of blue when they locked onto their target.

“Of course. And I am most obliged to that fact.” the man said his eyes disappeared into the widening smile. “What can I get you today?”

“I’m looking for truffles.” he said, scratching the back of his hand as he thought of the loud cookbook. It had been a present from Marie and Jude.

“Ah! Manefique! I have white and milk chocolate ones!” the man said as he turned around to go fetch the aforementioned treats.

“No, I mean the mushroom type. I need black truffles.”

“Hmmmm, well that.” The man said rubbing his unshaven chin between his thumb and forefinger, “That will cost you.”

“Even today?” Jake asked sighing, yet again.

“Especially today!” The man threw his hands in the air, “I’ve been cleared out twice now! Look at what they did with four bags of beans. Four! Do you know how valuable those will be soon!”

“Georg, I’m sorry. But honestly, I don’t care.” Jake began saying before Georg interrupted.

“Of course you don’t! No one does!” He began sweeping as he had been doing when Jake first interrupted him, “That’s why they did this. They figure, why not, you know?”

“Anyway, what do you want this time?” Jake wanted to get home. It was almost six.

“Well, you can keep your currency. But do you have any pills?” Georg said, as his wet tongue ran across his large lips.

“Yeah. Some oxycoten from my root canal.” Jake replied, thinking about how Jude would still be in the office, even today, making those last minute calls. While Marie would be getting home from the lab soon. She was always so lonely when Jude worked late. Which was more and more frequently the last three months.

“That is perfect. I will be by to pick it up tonight.” Georg said as he shuffled behind the counter and took a large key ring from his belt. After unlocking the small door, half of his bulbous, hairy frame disappeared into the hutch. When he withdrew his face was much redder and covered in beads of sweat. But he had it. “Here you go. Hey, that bottle of pills, it better be mostly full.”

“Are they black truffels?” Jake asked, looking at the label printed in some other language.

“Black, white, what? Are you choosing now to suddenly become racist? What does it matter?” Georg said as he resumed his sweeping. “Hey, just remember, I’ll be by later tonight.”

“Before or after?” Jake said as he pocketed the glass bottle of white truffles.

“Before of course! After, well, you cannot plan for that, no. You cannot.”

++++

In the millions of phone calls caught in the atmosphere, one stood out over the rest.

“Hey, Marie, its me. Are you home already? Listen, I know Jude won’t be in for a while yet. Did you need some company? No, I haven’t changed my mind about dinner. Sure, I’m already on your side of town. See you in five. Bye.”

++++

“Oh, look, Sara! Its Jake! Hello! Hello, there!” The old woman called from her chair on the porch.

Jake was just rolling out of his beat up, blue pick up, when he saw the familiar, pruned face waving him from next door. Jude and Marie’s neighbors took a keen interest in Jake. They had since the first time he had come over to visit Jude and Marie, after they had just bought the house. Marie’s first. Jude’s fourth. He liked to impress whenever possible. And Marie was easily impressed.

“Hi. I’m just stopping by to see Marie.” Jake called out as he waved.

“Of course, of course you are.” The one called Sara said as she shuffled towards the door, leaning on her walker while trying to adjust the shawl hanging open. “But first, could you be a dear and help us with this. It seems Katie turned the internet off again.”

“I’ll be right over.” Jake said as he couldn’t help but smile. He quickly beat out a text message and bound up the neighboring houses’ steps.

“Thank you, dear. Would you like some tea?” Katie said as she sipped from the rose strangled cup.

“No, thank you.” He said, scratching the back of his head.

“Of course not! Not today. Today he wants some whiskey!” Sara said shuffling back from within the house, a bottle in hand. She poured two shots of the amber liquid, one for him and one for herself. “Today we don’t worry about our poor hearts.”

“My heart is fine.” Jake said as he threw the shot back, savoring the cool burn along his esophagus.

“Is it?” Katie asked, peering wide eyed over the rim of her tea cup, “I don’t think its been fine for quite some time.”

“I mean,” Jake struggled, blinking a few times before taking the bottle from Sara and pouring another shot, “I don’t think there is anything wrong with it.”

“Well, we will find out tonight, won’t we.” Sara said, taking the bottle back and pouring another shot for herself as well, “Well, the two of us won’t. Even if we do see morning, we’re old. We can’t even do the skype right. We can’t learn how to live all over again.”

“We’ve had a good run, though.” Katie said, putting the cup down, and taking Jake’s hand, “But you still have a chance. Who knows, maybe tonight might be the right time.”

“Why do I have the feeling like there’s something you’re not telling me?” Jake said, feeling the slowing buzz at the back of his head.

“You should run along, dear.” Katie said, pulling him closer and placing a wrinkled kiss on his cheek, “Marie will be waiting. And Jude will be home soon.”

“Take the bottle,” Sara said, “And good luck. You have balls, Jake. Dig deep and remember how to use them.”

++++

Jake opened the door without knocking. He had had his own key since they bought the house. He spent just as much time there as he did at home anyway. Used to spend even more. From the living room he heard the sound of a female news anchor drone on, despite all that was happening.

She sat on the couch, her legs pulled up, a red and pink quilt wrapped around her shoulders. She had probably handmade it. He knew that nearly half the items in the house had been made by her. Lots of long lonely nights, waiting for Mister Important to get home.

Which wasn’t fair to Jude. He was Mister Important for a reason. And the guilt Jude felt for not being there always showed itself when he was there. Jake noticed a glass of Merlot in her hand, and sighed with relief as he pulled the bottle of whiskey from his jacket pocket. Marie was usually chilly about alcohol, unless she had some herself.

“You took long.” She said without looking up.

“Sorry. Katie and Sara. You know.” He wanted to talk with her like they used to. Back when things were normal. But the news caster’s voice broke the spell with healthy doses of reality.

“...as there has been numerous reports of burglaries and fires throughout the city. Authorities say there is just not enough manpower on the ground to combat the rise in crime and according to several witnesses, police officers took part in at least one of the cases of armed robbery...”

“Georg’s was hit twice today.” Jake said after taking a sip.

Marie loosely acknowledged his bottle with a roll of her eyes before answering, “Jude says that it should not be a surprise. He said this is why we shouldn’t inform people.”

“What do you think?” Jake asked, taking another sip.

“The neighbors left their dog. It’s in the backyard, howling away as if the world is ending.” Marie said, taking a sip from her glass. “They went to the mountains and just left it.”

“Didn’t you try to warn them?” Jake said, “I mean, I thought that Jude had said that–”

“Of course we tried!” Marie said, closing her eyes as if she was in pain, “But when you’re frightened, suddenly, even if two PhD carrying members of the Advisory Council tells you its a bad idea, you are going to run with the herd. Its just the mentality. You know I wrote a thesis on that. Herd Instincts and Its Effects on Human Motor Functions.”

“So, when will Jude be home?” Jake asked, looking into the glassy eyes staring at the images of fires and broken window panes.

“He has to push the button. The big red one.” She said, putting her glass down, and standing up with a slight wobble, “Then he gets to come home and see me like this.”

“Okay, you need a glass of water.” Jake said, jumping up and grabbing her around her small waist.

“You know, Jake, there was a time when you actually made me j–” but the rest of her words were drowned out by her bending over double and puking on the white egyptian cotton rugs.

“How many did you have?” Jake said catching sight of the nearly finished bottle under the table. “Come on, lets get you upstairs and cleaned up before Jude gets back.”

++++

Jake looked outside at the small square of green lawn. The brilliant green was mottled by bright yellow spots of dead grass. It had been like that the day he helped move the couch in on top of those egyptian cotton rugs that were now thwacking away on the inside of the washing machine.

“Just leave them.” Marie had said as she wave him off while slumping backwards on the finely embroidered bedspread. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I know.” Jake had said, but still put the rugs in anyway, measuring the exact 4 ounces of detergent needed and then rinsing out the measuring cup before placing it perfectly next to the orange detergent bottle. “Now, it’s your turn.”

He hesitated as she turned and held her arms up. He took hold of the bottom of the thick, beige sweater and began rolling it up over her milky skin, where tendriling trails of freckles wove across her back. He fumbled with the clasp of the black bra, averting his eyes as he gentle turned her around.

After staring into his downcast eyes while he worked to undo her slacks, Marie finally slurred, “Do you have to tell him today?”

He looked up, her green eyes dancing as they tried to keep him in focus. He merely finished undressing her and wrapped her in a thick white bathrobe, leading her to the ornate bathroom. Most of the sinks and fixtures had been his handy work. Jobs that would have taken Jude the better part of a day to finish, he had finished under an hour. But even if Mister Important did have the time, he just didn’t like working with his hands like Jake did. The thought made him smile.

“Here, let’s get some water running. You’ll be fine after a nice soak.” Jake said, turning the faucet on and letting the rumbling water splash and splatter as it pooled in the large tub.

“You know. I wait for him. Everyday.” She said as she leaned against the counter. “Everyday. Like some fifties housewife in my apron. It’s not fair. I mean, you know.”

“Yes.” Jake said, checking the temperature of the water.

“Of course you do. You’ve had to wait too. We both have.” She said, placing a hand on his back, tracing a sloppy circle with her finger.

He stopped. Looking forward in the mirror and catching her eye with the new glare of his as he simply said, “Stop. Don’t.”

She withdrew her hand and looked down. “You know, it really is pointless to tell him today. I mean, why ruin the way he sees the world. Has always seen the world.”

From outside the window, a dog started barking. Jake sighed. He knew she was right. None of it would matter. Maybe it would be better if he didn’t say anything. If some secrets were taken to the grave. Jude would never have to know.

“That stupid dog.” Marie squinted at the window, holding a hand up to block the light.

“I’ll go take care of it.” Jake always took care of everything, “But in the meantime, come on, get yourself cleaned up.”

Jake helped her slide into the tub of lukewarm water. She raised a single, thin-wristed hand and let the water slide between her fingers in large, warm drops. They sagged on her delicate fingernails before dripping down and disappearing in ripples.

“Here, take this.” Jake said, handing her a small white cup.

“What is it?” Marie sniffed the cup.

“Mouthwash.”

++++

Outside a wind was picking up, whipping up the dust in small tornadoes that tumbled across the pavement before dying on the grass. Jake walked across the lawn towards the line of the faded fence. Before today, this fence would have been re-stained and sanded by the Mallers. But they had gone crazy, just like everyone else. Nobody cared anymore. Jake got to the door and he heard the eager anticipitory huffs of the dog’s panting breath as it ran closer. He placed his hand on the wood of the door and it began whining, scratching at the wood as it sniffed across each slat and crack between the wood. Its desperate pleas to be heard.

“Hi there, boy.” He said, putting his hand beneath the wooden door.

A warm, pink tongue hungerly flicked across his skin. He was surprised by how dry it was. It was thirsty. A prisoner begging for a drink of water. Jake reached up, over the door, to see if he could reach the latch to open the door, but it was just out of reach. The dog began panting more, giving a bark as if to say, “Don’t leave me. Don’t forget about me. I’m still here. I’m still here”. Jake found a thin branch nearby and tried to force it through a crack in the slats of the door. It pushed through but the latch still wouldn’t budge. The Mallers were a paranoid family, firmly believing that their home was surrounded by thieves. As such, they had put the most high tech anti-burglary door latch on the outside door. There would be no way for Jake to get in.

“I’m sorry, boy.” Jake said after the eighteenth failed plan, sitting down against the door, his chest rising and falling to the dog’s panting.

The animal grew quiet, as if it understood. A wet snout suddenly pushed its way under the door and shuffled around till it found his hand. It pushed into the palm of his hand, withdrew, and then pushed in again, settling there this time. As if the dog was saying, it’s okay, I tried a lot too.

“Hey, don’t give up.” Jake said, scratching the top of the muzzle, “We can make it through this. I’ll find a way out for you. I promise.”

++++

“Where’s that shallow bowl you used last Halloween for your floating cupcakes?” Jake asked as he walked into the kitchen and began opening and closing cabinets, looking for the bowl.

“Why?” Marie in her white bathrobe asked obviously more sober, toweling her long brunette hair down with the thick towel.

“The dog needs some water.” He said, finding a metal fondue bowl and deciding it would do.

“Forget about it. It’s not bothering me that much.” She said, flipping her hair over and toweling it further.

“Its not you I’m worried about.” Jake said, filling it with water at the sink.

Marie looked up, her hair hanging like a curtain on the side of her head as she scrunched it dry. “I’m not a horrible person, you know that right.”

“I do.” Jake said, looking up at her, “But you still think I shouldn’t tell him?”

She ran her fingers through her hair while closing her eyes, “Fine. Tell him. But just keep in mind that when you do, he will suddenly realize his best friend has been lying to him for years. I’m sure thats the way you want him to see you right then and there before its all over.”

Jake looked down as the water spilled over the edge of the metal fondue bowl and onto his wrist. He closed the faucet and walked back outside. After sliding the bowl underneath the wooden door he walked back into the living room to find Marie, still in the bathrobe watching the news again.

“Alright, you’ve had enough. Come on, turn it off.” He said, reaching for the remote.

“Wait, here it comes.” She said, not breaking her gaze from the screen. “He’s about to do it. To tell them. Officially.”

Jake sat down next to her watching the screen dominated by the figure of an old man standing behind a consul, speaking to the flash of cameras.

“...and so we have here today, the President and CEO of GlobalNet Industries, Jude TerBlanche.”

There was mixed clapping and camera flashes as the old man stepped down and the much younger man stood forward. Jake had always joked that if Jude failed in business he could always become a model. The absurdity being that they both new Jude never looked good in pictures. But today. Today he carried himself well in front of the cameras.

“Thank you.” His soft, slightly timbred voice buzzed across the airwaves, rebounding from a million satellite dishes, chorusing across all frequencies.

1,035 kilometers away in a cafe in Paris, patrons put down coffee cups and magazine to turn and face the television overhead, while protesters in the street huddled in small groups around their handheld radios.

9,626 kilometers away in the city of New Dehli, the entire evening commute came to a stand still as a million car radios all echoed the same words.

10,477 kilometers away in the city of Buenos Aires, crowds gathered around the large outside monitors outside the football stadium where the message was coming in.

“Three weeks ago, we at GlobalNet first identified a possible deviation in the path of the astroid Apophis as part of our intra-lunar space inventory. We have worked with NASA, the European Space Agency, and the Japanese Space Authority and have concluded that after striking several GlobalNet Satelites in near-earth orbit, the astroid has indeed deviated from its projected path past the earth.”

The silence was terrifying.

“Instead, it will impact the earth. Today. At approximately 6 o’clock in the evening, Greenwhich Mean Time. Rest assured we have attempted all efforts to redirect the astroid. But none have worked. We urge everyone, to take shelter. Our models predict that ground zero of the impact will be the Great Rift Valley of East Africa.”

Marie sighed, “And so now they all know.”

Questions of Setting

2011-07-05T01:10:00.000-07:00

So as usual I am juggling way too many story ideas than is healthy or recommended by most qualified health professionals. What can I say, I'm an addict. Along with recently revamping my efforts of my Kouros Series, I have also just had inspiration for a stand alone novel. And while its characters and their general plot line is clear, I have no idea where to start the story. As in where in time and space. Because the story is the story of two lovers, who are cursed. Cursed to love each other for all eternity. What that means is that when they die, they are reborn. But only one of them remembers their previous life and the love they had. Which means it is up to this one to find his lover in the sea of humanity. But the catch is, after he finds her and gets her to fall in love with him again, and tells her about their previous lives together, he will always die soon afterward. And then once she dies and they are reborn, she will be the one that remembers, but he won't. And so it starts again. So I'm tempted to start this story 'in medias res' from a third person perspective and then switch back and forth from being in one of the lovers minds to being in the other with each subsequent rebirth. The other option is that I can start the story chronologically and keep it in first person narrator with complete or limited perspective and end it with the narrator of the story actually being one of the lovers, telling the other lover, wherever she may be, their story. Because humanity has grown too large and finding a single individual nearly impossible. So he wrote the book with their entire story in it in the hopes that maybe she will pick it up and read it and remember and come find him. In which case the entire book, how its packaged and presented and marketed will be as if this narrator and character is actually the author, is actually real. So those are my two options. The other thing is just how far back should their history go? 1700s? 1400s? B.C.s? Ancient Babylonia? Also, would you as a reader be content in not ever really finding out how they were cursed, just kinda going with it as a part of the established rules of the fictitious universe? Thanks for the feedback and ideas. I really appreciate it. :)

Excerpt from "Kouros (Working Title)"

2011-06-30T16:06:00.000-07:00

So this is an excerpt from a book series I have been working on for a long time now. Its set in ancient greece and essentially just takes up the greek mythology. However, its still meant to retain realism. So this is an excerpt from one of the chapters that I simply wrapped into its own short story form. Its about a supporting character called O, who is looking for a name. So he goes by several different O names, like Ophicus and Omnicron. Its still really rough, especially in its insulation from the rest of the story context, but right now I'm working mostly on just establishing the emotional state and psyche of this side character named O.

As the last note died out, he opened his eyes and looked out over the crowd. For a brief second there was silence. He lived for that second. He played for that second. The second of silence when the sheer shock of the emotional avalanche he created and then so suddenly stopped caused the crowd to be speechless with wonder. The wonder of his music. His song. Then they erupted in cheers and clapping, foot stomping and bright colored veils of the women being waved back and forth.

Ah, Athens, how I’ve missed you, he thought as he gave his short bow before trusting his lyre into the air as the cheering crescendoed.

“Make way! Make way!” a voice called from the crowd as a short, fat man trundled up, surrounded by four guards. “Come along Ophicus! We have to get you to the harbor! Your next ship leaves at sunset. We can’t miss the games at Olympia! I worked for months to get your name on the register!”

“I know, I know.” He said, hoping down from the stage and following the armed guards through the ampitheater walkway where hundreds of fans were throwing garlands while reaching out to touch Ophicus. “Hold on, where’s Chloe?”

“She’s already on boards with Kouros and Phaeton. Now come on!” He said, forcefully grabbing the boy and yanking him along.”

“Don’t touch me!” Ophicus said, pulling away, his face suddenly white with terror.

“Alright. Fine. Then walk yourself but hurry!” his manager said, walking away at a brisk pace.

Ophicus sat down and ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to control the shaking.

Not here, not now, he thought as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Looking up he saw several families walking by pull their children closer as they passed on the other side of the street. Without his fame he was just another nobody to them. All that love on the stage and still that old familiar feeling. Of being totally alone.

“No, no, no, no, no. Not now!” he wanted to scream.

But instead he was back there again. So long ago.

“Omnicron! Where the Hades did that boy get to!” yelled the man as he stepped into the room.

“Dolon, I’m sorry. I-I was trying to reach the top shelf and I...” he tried to say it but thought he was going to throw up. He hadn’t had any food for two days already.

“You little piece of filth! Look at this! That amphora of wine was worth more than your whole sorry little life will ever be!”

“I’m sorry Dolon.” He said, trying not to cry.

“Shut up! You’re just a no good waste of flesh! Just like that slut, your mom!” Dolon yelled as he threw piece of potsherd at the boy.

One hit Omnicron’s face, leaving a deep gash. Surprisingly, it didn’t even seem to hurt. Somehow it helped to stop the tears too. It felt like relief. Like everything inside went grey and dead as Dolon kept ranting.

“I’m just glad you aren’t one of mine! Spending all your day with that stupid instrument. Playing your little songs! Well you can forget about that!”

Dolon grabbed the small make shift lyre that Omnicron has made out of some twigs and catgut and put it on the ground between him and Omnicron.

“Now, you understand why I have to do this, right?”

Whenever Dolon suddenly took on his caring voice Omnicron could feel his insides twist together. He could only nod.

“You broke something of mine. Now I have to break something of yours. That’s fair, right.”

Dolon was crying again, his tears mixing with his bleeding cheek, stinging salt as he tried to wipe his eyes.

“It is, it is fair, am I right? Look at me. Look at me, you piece of filth!”

Omnicron looked up at Dolon feeling sick and empty and dirty. Like the piece of filth he knew he was.

“Now, I am not going to break your lyre.” Dolon said, taking a step back and folding his arms across his chest.

“R-r-really?” The boy asked, looking up.

“No.” Dolon said as he shook his head before making eye contact with Omnicron, “You are.”

Omnicron just looked at the thing on the floor and suddenly felt the room spin. The only thing he had. Out of nineteen brothers and sisters, he was the one with the lyre. Without this, he wouldn’t be anything. How could he break it? It was all he had. It was all he was.

“Are you listening to me?” Dolon began to grow red, “I said you are breaking it! So do it!”

“B-but. I-I don’t, w-want to-” but his sentence was cut short by the back of Dolon’s hand across the gash on his cheek, knocking him down ontop of the instrument.

“You don’t dare talk back to me! I said break it! Or do you want me to break your fingers instead? Either way you aren’t ever playing ever again!”

Omnicron’s hands shook as he took up the instrument and grabbed the two outside edges. He strained against the wood as his whole body quivered from lack of food and the beat of his heart echoing inside the cut on his cheek. Then there was an ear splitting snap and it was done. He let the pieces slide out of his limp hands.

“You know what the problem is!” Dolon said, grabbing him by his tunic collar, “You kids have no respect anymore. Here I am, trying to teach you a valuable life lesson and you talk back to me! I think the only way to teach you respect is to remind you who puts bread on this table to begin with! That’s two more days added!”

Omnicron just looked at the floor. The world melted away as the rest of what Dolon said and did faded into the background blur of the high pitch scream burning in his brain. And as he kept looking at his feet he noticed more and more of the small details around them. The brightly polished Athenian marble on the walkway. The few green dandelion leaves prouting between the cracks by his feet. He was in Athens. He wasn’t back there anymore. He was far from Dolon and the rest of the family.

Realizing he had stayed too long, he jumped up and ran down to catch the ship before his manager had a heartattack. It was the games of Olympia. These were the big leagues. If he could get enough crowd support he might be able to have one of his songs taken up by the Homeridae. Which would mean eternal fame and glory.

On the ship to Olympia he stayed away from the others, lying off to the side and pretending to be asleep. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t let it happen to him again. Not after last time. But all it took was one small thing to throw him back into the memory. He would worry about it some other time. For now he had to focus on getting his song recognized.

They deboarded at Olympia and walked up the garland way with people cheering and throwing flowers on either side. This was it. All thoughts of the previous night’s events were forgotten as he made his way to the massive ampitheater where thousands of people from all the great cities would come to watch him perform. There was a nervous energy that seemed to coil in his stomach, but he kind of liked the feeling. The same feeling he got whenever he was about to strike the first note. And after that. After that it all turned into music and rhythm and the fluid beauty that you don’t even have to thing about.

“Omnicron! Omnicron! It is you!” A voice called from within the crowd as he neared the main entrance.

An old man hobbled out of the crowd and latched onto him. And in that second it was as if he was back in his childhood. Except that his childhood and his present seemed to bleed together in the old man, and he recognized him. And suddenly he felt helpless and filthy and angry and confused all at the same time.

“Omnicron! It’s me! Dolon. Your old dad. Oh, my boy we’ve missed you so much. Ever since the day you ran away your mother and I worried ourselves sick.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know who my father was.” Dolon said, his cheek burning.

“No. Its me. It’s always been me. I’m your father, Omnicron.” the old man said as he smiled in almost delirium at the boy. “And of course it is a son’s prerogative to take care of his family.”

And that’s when he got it. Why Dolon was here. Why he suddenly wanted to talk. Why he was suddenly so willing to claim Omnicron as son. It was all just about the money. Omnicron has never been mad at him until this moment. How dare he.

“Get away from me, you piece of filth.” But even as he said the words he felt like he was betraying himself, looking down at the old, guant man, “I don’t know who you are but you are not my father. My name is Ophicus, not Omnicron. Leave me alone.”

“Omnicron! Omnicron! I’m sorry! I made a mistake! Come back!” his echoes rebounded down the dark tunnel as Ophicus walked in and closed his eyes, his grip on his old, rebound lyre tightening as he prepared for the show that would make him the most famous man in Greece. While he was concentrating his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a passing servent boy who had dropped a bowl.

“I’m trying to concentrate! This perfomance is worth more than you are you little piece of filth!”

And there in the dark chamber with the cheers of fake love and meaningless fame echoing around the ampitheater, he came face to face with himself, old and young, looking at each other from across the gaping maw of time and into the face of the disease that had been slowly eating away at his soul for so long.

“Is there any hope for us?” asked his younger self.

“I-I don’t know. I thought. I mean, we got out.” His older self answered.

“But we will never get out. Will we?” the young boy said as he began to cry.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” The older man said as he took the boy in his arms and began to cry as well.

My Silver Bullet

2011-06-30T00:12:00.000-07:00

Get your hands off me

Let go of your grip

Your fingers have pried into my soul

And you stain my heart with your touch

Your grip is strangling me

And I can't bare the feel of your skin

You leave these fingerprints on me

And though I try to wash them they turn black and blue

And I can't stay here anymore

As I slowly turn into you

You cling too tight

You won't let go

You leave this shadow looming large

Spreading from my past

And bleeding like ink

Across the page that was supposed to be my story

The empty place you have left

It breathes hauntingly on my every thought

The vacancy is always a step behind me

A step before me

Trapped in between who you were supposed to be

And who I will become

And as this full moon rises

And the veins begin to beat with fire

As the fangs grow long and I howl in desire

For the blood that you spilled once too

Will I catch my reflection in time

In time to see what I have become

The monster I have become

That I have become you?

Let the moon never rise again

Let me never again see the night

Let the sun burn away

Away all that lurks inside

The light of the day that scorches the earth and burns the grass and starves the rivers and kills the earth

Immolate the beasts beneath the skin

And let only ashes remain

For you to stick your fingers in

Build your doppleganger from them if you will

But just let go, let go of your grip on me.

Perfect Ponderings

2011-06-16T13:57:00.000-07:00

The perfect man cannot live in the imperfect world

He will either change the world

or vacate himself from it.

Bring on the razors, Seniore

Ha Ha ha...

Impotence. Perfection is only achieved by the impotence of the imperfect's ignorance...

2 twelve ounce mochas

Gratzi, Seniore

And let it burn.

The Storm

2011-06-13T19:04:00.000-07:00

Red sky at morning

Sailors take warning

The storm is coming

A little while off

The boat is ready

Or it better be

No place to hide

On the open sea

No time to build a stronger boat

Only now to trust in hope

As waves rise and winds roar

As bow breaks and sails soar

This journey was never promised serenity

And God may not grant us clemency

So shall we cling for mere tenacity

As this boat sails on through adversity

These lips...

2011-06-05T16:17:00.000-07:00

These lips have lost their smile

The curve is just too heavy to hold

So fake it chokes the last breath

These lips have lost their voice

What more can be said?

Lies, delusions, or the most bitter truth?

These lips burn with resentful promises

The untouched now whisper their fears

The severed bond of solitude

These lips are mine alone.

Need

2011-06-04T17:24:00.000-07:00

I don't need you

to understand this poem

I don't need you

to understand the pain

I don't want your eyes inside me

Searching across my true skin

I just need someone

To help me forget the pain

Someone to help me forget

The empty room

The empty place

at the empty table

In the empty house

with the open door...

Kyrie Et Lacrymosa

2011-05-29T02:09:00.001-07:00

It is here

In this quiet dark hour

That my voice is silenced

That my heart is broken

That my wrist are bled red

Without a trace of an humour

I close my eyes

And let the silence

Flood my soul

Semper puer sin sanguin

Semper monta sin pontum

Semper sin sola nolum

Semper possus nolus sin tus pontus

Here it comes

2011-05-28T14:29:00.000-07:00

Thunder rumble

Rumble through my soul

Skies bleed

Bleed down my skin

And soak my hair

Hands fail

Fail to hold up the crumbling ruins

Fall

You ruins around me

Crack you marble

Splinter you beams

Crumble to dust

All the works of man

All the lives you have built

All the dreams you poured out

Set out

Built up

Let them all

Let them all rumble

Crumble under the sky

As the rains fall down

And rivulets run

And the flood begins

Here it comes

It comes

Nearer

Hold on

The pillars will fall

The foundation is cracked

The walls are tumbling

Your nightmare is real

Your dreams are dead

They died with her

They will die forever more

The crumbling walls

Here they make your crypt

And as the light from flashing lighting

And the wet ivy falling with the tumbling stones

As the world caves in around you

What will you do?

What will you do now?

Here it comes

The flood comes

Let it in

Let it begin

The towering wall of water

Here it comes

The rumbling stampede of waves

Here it comes

The quaking earth beneath it

Here it comes

The Empty ruins forsaken

Here it comes

And the water comes

And washes you away

And the river runs

Right on through you

Through where your heart once was

Through where you once knew love

With the crashing waves

With the empty words

In your bleeding ears

When the river runs

And the rains beat your face

Into the dust with shame

Where will you be?

Do you even know?

Where will you cry?

Where will the eyes of this cold world not find you?

Here it comes

The rains and the flood

Your falling pillars

Your crumbling marble

Your dying dreams

Are you ready?

To the Flame

2011-05-23T19:36:00.000-07:00

There is a languid flame

Which burns at the heart

And sees no touch of rain

The dry dust aches

And Ceres still searches for her daughter

While the great Fury

Let loose by Aries' blood hands

Set hold upon the heart flame

And with warm breath

Breathed the flame into inferno

And the flames rose

And the smoke rose

And the sparks were in his eyes

And the heart rose

And the heart died

And the pyre would not hold it

Tantulus wept as Zeus for Sarpedon

While the tongue of Lavinia crept on the floor

All that was once so green and alive

Blasted brittle and yellow by Thanatos' breath

And all caught fire

And all did burn

And all was given

To the flame

Cry of the Solitary Heart

2011-05-22T20:31:00.000-07:00

All the others have grown silent

No companion to remain

All the words are now unspoken

Unheard, untaken, just dying

And the weight pains me

Drags me deep into the morass

While fleeting moments of light

Wholly unbroken by my pale shade

Break when black holes for eyes

Pierce the skin already shattered

Cracks the seams not yet healed

With the emptiness

Again

2011-05-21T22:38:00.000-07:00

I let it linger too long

Again, again

Let my heart beat too long

Again, again

And now I feel it so strong

Again, again

Is it so wrong?

So wrong?

Again?

Again.

I let it sink it so deep

So deep, so long

I let it break up

Apart, again, so long

And I can't keep it

Together, for long, for long

Can't keep repeating

again, for long, so long

Again?

Again.

Can't you see it?

So long, so wrong,

Again.

Can't you feel it?

I tried,

to speak

again

and again.

Each day is a battle

A fight to the end

The end

And I can't have you be there

Against me

Again and again

Can't you feel it

so long, so long, again

Can't you hear me

I'm trying

Again and again

And I won't beat it

In the end, the end

If you can't see this

My friend

my friend

the end

so long

again

Unfinished Again

2011-05-21T19:22:00.000-07:00

This compass is spinning

Its needle is not still

Is never still

Spins on and round

And won't slow down

Speeding up

Taking off

Breathing in the fresh smell

of the new emptiness

That says nothing will be well

That all the richest food

And the sweetest wine

Turns to ash in your mouth

As we smell the sour in the air

Of our unspoken words

Where we...

The Mute

2011-04-21T18:24:00.000-07:00

I tried

he said

as he held

his head

in his hands

with his face

to the sun

eyes closed

breath forlorn

and the world just spun round

and it did not care

and it did not cry

and we all know why

I can't

he said

as he hung his head

with the shame and sorrow

that seeped and bled

from within his pores

and out of his eyes

that he tried to hide

with a bleeding smile

But the world did not care

and the world did not cry

and we all know why

We believed the lie

Please don't

he strained

as he pushed

in the rain

against the onrush of dispair

as the hail soaked his hair

while the cool running streams

of his dead and dying dreams

pour in rivulets down his back

pour like oil upon the sand

and the world did not care

and the world did not cry

because we all know why

there is strength in a lie

In slumber we lie

he cried as he died

while he pushed all away

and would no more touch

the scars on the sand

beneath the old rugged cross

and broke the iron rings

and broke the coiled bones

and reached for the stones

deep inside of his mind

where they bleached by his tongue

were coated red with blood

and he traced on their round face

the lost longing embrace

that he would never again see

and that he lost when found he

the last place on the earth

where the world did cry

and where the world did care

because he saw in his hand

the pen that wrote the lie.

African Epic

2011-04-17T17:47:00.000-07:00

Around the Great Kraal none could make a stand, as the deft archers of King LeDongo took out all who came near. The glittering bronze flew through the air, the smoke-blackened iron arrowheads were soon to find their marks. Deep within the middle ring, where the lords of the armies stood in council, wise-eyed Shimaza looked at the gathering and scattered the truth-bones once more, and read their horrible omen the fates had chosen. That soon the mighty ring of the Kraal would fall and all would be scattered. And yet he did still keep hope. For as long as the palladium of the mighty Nkosi stood at the great kern, none would be able to break the wall, and so he might yet still divine a solution to break the barrackade. But as wise as the wise-eyed son of Magabe was, he did not see the shadow of Tokolosi creep through the cool stone halls in the middle ring. Then the Lord Tokolosi, having found the chamber of where slept Nemanga of the Fairhair, he took the shape of Nemanga’s sister, Nedamaba, and spoke to the sleeping warrior in his dreams saying, “Nemanga, my brother and son of my mother, you sleep while the armies advance on the stones of the Great Kraal. But even now, there is salvation to be had. Signal to the watchers on the Moutains of the Dragon’s Back, where your brother, your father’s son, Lethemoso is captain of the watch. Signal to him that even the Great Inner Ring of Painted Stone, Holy to Nkosi, will fall to the armies of the Serpent, if the Hidden City of Sheloza will not send aid.” Waking, Nemanga went to his mother and told her the dream. She wept bitter tears as she reminded her son that no pidgeons sent would be successful, as all were shot down by the smoke-blackened arrows of the armies of the serpent. “But, there is a way, son of my youth, that you may still reach your brother, your father’s son, at the outpost on the Moutains of the Dragon’s Back. We must burn a mighty fire, the greatest in the entire city, the entire land, so that the smoke will climb like the growing vine of the gord, climb until it has reached the doors of the wide heaven where Nkosi dwells with the Star-walkers. Maybe he will intervene on our behalf if our sacrifice to him is sweet. But even if Nkosi has made his heart hard towards us, the smoke will be terrible, an omen for your brother, Lethemoso, your father’s son, so that he might send a scout to see what has happend here at our Great Kraal, and having seen the armies encamped about us, he might send us aid from that Great City, Sheloza, the Hidden.” Then taking all his mother’s words to heart, Nemanga gathered all that was in the city that could be burned, the wooden chairs and reed mats, the thatch of the old houses and the clothing of the slaves. All this he gathered together in the center of the Great Inner Ring of Painted Stone, which is Holy to Nkosi, and offering a great bull upon it to honor the great Spirit, he set all ablaze. And the smoke that rose from the burning was massive, so that the armies around the Great Kraal all saw it and had great fear, so that they trembled. For to their eyes, the smoke did seem like a great, black mumba rising above the walls, as a mother serpent rises above her nest. And they drew back, fearing that the great lord Tokolosi had turned his eyes from them. So they gathered all their muthi and called all their wisemen to see what the spirits said. Meanwhile, as the great infero blazed, far away on the moutains of the dragon’s back, the brother of Nemanga, Lethemoso, who shot three arrows from his bow, saw the mighty smoke rising and knew it came from the Great Kraal. He immediatly sent his fastest runners, carriers of the cheetah totem, to see what was the matter. These were Kama of the Spotted Shoulder, and Regemana the Younger, who both calling upon their father the cheetah, ran with swiftest speed across the wide grasses to where the wall of the Great Stone Kraal had stood for centuries. And having seen the great army of the serpent, they returned to report to Lethemoso all they saw. The news troubled him and he himself went to the secret river in the moutains, where the water flowed up instead of down, and following it up in his fastest canoe, he reached the great stone doors that led to the vale of Nkosi’s blessing, where the ancient city of Sheloza was hidden. But as the doors could only open during moonlight, he camped at the gates and kept his watch. Meanwhile, the lord Tokolosi, seeing the great conflaration was still not large enough to his liking came as a shadow behind Nemanga where he stood at the center of the commanders of the armies, and spoke whispering words into his mind and soon Nemanga himself thought the fire too small. And being of the golden tongued ones, he convined the generals of the same. And soon all the bedding and all the doors of the houeses and all the clothing of the people, even of the rulers were added to the fire. Even the hair was shorn of and offered to the great Spirit Nkosi to make the fire larger. But Umshlanga the beautiful alone’s hair was untouched. For they said, surely she should be spared the ignobility of being shorn. But as the words of the Lord Tokolosi still burned within the heart of Nemanga he still saw the fire as too small. And demanding that Umshlanga sacrifice her hair as well, he said, “Come now, woman, lend your aid where it is due! Can’t you see we shall all soon perish, even you, with your glorious head covering, will die when the armies of the serpent rush through our walls and eat our flesh.” “Not I” she responded, “For my beauty shall spare me and my house and purhaps even the city. I have been blessed by the great daughter of Nkosi, she who walks in the deep savanna and shaves the hair of the mighty lioness for her own ornament. My beauty is not my own. Not to be given away. Not to be taken. Lay not a hand on me, son of Magebe!” And all the generals shook with terror that she would invoke the thought of the wild daughter of Nkosi, whose sharp ears like a gazell always alert for the hunter, turns this way and that at the mention of her name. Whose horns, like the mighty ox gores the hearts of hunters, whose tusks like the strong warthog, tears the heart to pieces, whose claws like the mighty tiger, slices the heart to shreds, and whose teeth, red like the lioness, devour both the heart and the soul of her prey. But Nemanga was not moved by the terror justly due, and spurred still by the whisper of Tokolosi, reaching out, sliced a handful of her luscious hair. Immediatly, a mighty growl, like that of the cheeta before it pounces upon the zebra, clasping its haunches and bringing it to the ground in its deaththrows, echoed across the savanna as the wild daughter of Nkosi knew one of her own had been touched. But Nemanga still headless of the warnings, threw the hair upon the great fire. None had seen, but the eyes of Umshlanga had changed and were like the eyes of a lioness, fierce and golden and terrible to behold. For the daughter of Nkosi is fierce and wild and mistress of all that is her own. And as mistress of all, she commands all, even those whom she has touched as her own. At that moment Umshlanga was not herself but was the daughter of Nkosi. “Foolish, Nemanga! You have undone yourself!” her voice was like the roar of the mighty lioness, “Look now, see the destruction you have brought with your pride! See! The hair you stole even now rises up in the smoke, bearing the flames you so worshiped higher and higher!” and it was true. The burning embers, like shooting stars, flew higher upon the night breeze towards the home of the Star-walkers. But the daughter of Nkosi turned to the son of Adamantos, the Storm Maker, and calling to him said, “Son of the Old One, look now at how these mortals have dishonored me! Do not think that if this goes unpunished they will not soon dishonour you as well. For al of our honor is tied together, and when one falls all of us will fall.” And the son of Adamantos, who flies upon the night, answered to her, “What would you have me do, Mistress of the Beasts?” And she of the golden eyes answered, “Let loose a bit of your breeze, and let the fires of Nemanga flie towards the palladium, that he may suffer for his hubrus!” And the son of Adamantos did as she asked, and let loose a bit of his winds, and they rushed the flying sparks away from their journey to the halls of Nkosi, and pushed them back earthward to the Great Painted Inner Ring, where the palladium stood. And no sooner had the embers touched the wooden palladium soaked in holy oils and jeweled with resin, then it took flame. And burned with a mighty red flame that stood like a spear up from the Great Inner Ring. And all the people of the Great Kraal began to wail. For without the palladium, all hope was lost. From outside the Great Stone Wall of the Kraal, the armies of the serpent gathered to hear the word that the augurs had read from the path of the flying red cranes. “Hear O People of Tokolosh and of the Great Mistress Isa the Warlike. What need have we of signs of birds? Look! See the great sign that the Lord Tokolosi has revealed. Over the stronghold unsurpassable now stands the sign of the spear. And the black sign of the serpent wraps about it. Tomorrow, the serpent will trust the spear into the heart of the Great Kraal and all will be laid to waste! Not even the palladium will protect them from the might of the Lord Tokolosi!” And all the armies beat their spears upon their shields, and the soldiers of the Mistress Isa the Warlike stood to the side, looking to their leader, the Undead Captain Enri. But he would not approve the sign, because he had not been visited by his Lady yet, to confirm in his heart whether the serpent was truly stabbing the city, or whether both serpent and city were both transfixed by the great spear of Nkosi.

The Touch of the touched

2011-04-17T02:12:00.001-07:00

You

Standing

There

So close

Enough to

Reach

and Touch

and touch

Fingers sprinting through space

Skin within our skin

Yearning to break

To reach

to Touch

to touch

that place between

that place within

that way we've been

touched.

No.

I can't

I shouldn't

Couldn't

Must not

Cross

The space

The air

The skin

No reach

no Touch

no touch

But I yearn

I long

I am so thirsty

To feel the touch of another human being

To feel the skin

To know where you are

To reach beyond

to touch beyond

to touch the beyond

Restraint

I will restrain myself

I will contain myself

I will slowly slay myself

With rope and rule and rhymes

I will not reach

I should not reach

Enclose the space

Enclose your throat

Touch your lungs

One must go

You or I

One must stay

So this is the way

I relinquish this hold

I let you slip away

The space growing

The yearning glowing

But restraint

Always restraint

Be free as a bird

Go where you may

I shall not cage you

With my affection

My need to reach

To touch your hand

I will contain

I will restrain

and bare the pain

In lonely nights

When winds cut my soul

I wished you where there

As if you could make me whole

When no blanket could cover

The bareness of my pain

When no shroud could hide

The anguish of my name

But no friend showed

No matter how hard I prayed

Only fiends glowed

In the nightime's shade

Then I most yearned

To reach for your hand

To pull myself up with

So that once more I could stand

But I coudn't and can't and never will

Grasp at your hand as I would

For fear that once more

As I reach for some strength

That hand is withdrawn

And I am left here alone

Touched by the might

of the single

the lone

the touch

of the touched.

Burning Alone (Draft 2)

2011-04-12T19:25:00.000-07:00

This is the second draft of my Memoir piece, Burning Alone. While it is a work in progress I feel that this is probably the draft I will end up submitting to my writing workshop for review. I would like to express that, I hope I painted a better picture of my relationship with my dad in this, in that I really did strive to make it clearer that while he may have done a lot of things, and said a lot of things that I don't agree with, his motivation was always him trying to do good, the best way he thought he could. And that this is simply one side of many. In what ends up being the final draft, I hope to incorporate more of that, to paint a better picture of how he has many times come to my rescue when my car has broken down, or given me the tools that have helped me become who I am. And for that I will always be grateful. Because even this experience, as painful as it was, also helped to shape me, in a positive way. And I feel that life is really about taking the worst, most horrendous circumstances and events and finding the positive that can come out of that. So without further ado, here is Burning Alone, Draft 2.

Burning Alone

The shadows of the trees reached like claws, trying to grab me as I ran away from the house. Though I had ran the familiar path many times before, never before had I ran it because of fear. I slowed my pace as the incline of the hill increased. Across from me was the dark park, a deep pool of shadows and corners with the sillouettes of basketball hoops towering over it, offering the perfect hiding place. But it was just too perfect. If I hid there from him, he was sure to find me. It was the first place he’d look.

As I kept running, my lungs burning, cheeks burning, neck burning, I felt like I was on fire. Not even the cool of the night air could quench the inferno that raged through me. But I was not angry. There was still too much shock, too much raw emotion to figure out what I was feeling. It was an adrenaline fueled fire that exploded through my eyes and caused my fingers to tingle with hot electricity.

A thought suddenly sprang to mind. I had to get off the road. If he didn’t find me at the park, he’d follow the road up and there was no place to hide for another mile and a half of suburbia. I slowed my run and ducked behind a dirty, green minivan. Crouching behind it, I saw my breath come out in ghost like vapors. I held my breath. Nothing to give me away, except my pounding heart.

I recalled the times before I had held my breath like this. When I was small, growing up in South Africa. The houses were poorly insulated, tin roofed, and A/C was only found in rich people’s cars. The nights were warm and muggy, with mosquitoes and the sound of the television coming from up the hallway. It was on those hot, muggy nights that I would lie there, eyes open like saucers, listening. Just listening.

There it was again. The sound. Like a footstep outside. Or a hand on the bars across the window. I would pull the blanket over my head and shut my eyes and hold my breath. And I would pray. I learned the fear of God, not from some boogie monster but from true terror brought on by the fact that I was about to die. Kids just like me were killed every night. What was there to stop them from killing me too? Or doing worse.

The dog began to bark and a chill ran down my spine. There was only one reason why Brakenjan would begin barking like that. Someone was outside. My whole frame shook under the blanket, where the air was beginning to grow hot and damp. But as sure as I was that I was dying by asphixiation, it was still overcome by the fear of pulling the blanket down to see the grotesque, black face spread into a fiendish white grin before the knife fell or the trigger was pulled or the large hands grabbed me up from my bed.

I would often wake up in the morning with the red and blue blanket still over my head, if the nightmares had not woken me before then. When the fear came, when the nightmares came, when the noises came, when the barking dog came, sometimes I would scrape together the last pinch of bravery I had, not content to die under the blanket. I would throw it of and roll of the bed, crouching on the floor.

In that moment, ever shadow seemed to move with sinister intent. To a six year old it was the moment before the end. But then I would lunge towards the wall and inch along it towards my door. As long as I kept my eyes on the shadows they wouldn’t move. But I knew the second I blinked whatever was hiding in them would jump out and grab me. So I waited until the very last moment to stop watching them.

And then I would run, as fast as my bare feet would carry me across the thick carpet towards my parents room. It was not uncommon for me to seek sanctuary there. Until I was five I still spent almost every night in their bed. And even at nine there were still nights when my mattress would be dragged into their bedroom and I would sleep on their floor. Being close to them was comforting. I felt safe.

On this specific night, when I was seven, I had been asleep on my mattress on the floor of my parent’s room when I was suddenly jarred awake. My mother’s heel quickly disappearing into the darkness above me. I sat up groggily and asked what was going on. It only took a second for me to realize what she was doing. She was busy trying to open our safe. She was going for my father’s gun. Which brought the question to the forefront. Where was Pappa?

As she ran by, she apologized quickly for stepping on me and ordered me back to sleep. Later I would find out that the small alarm embedded over my parent’s bed had gone off. My father had risen and gone outside to check on the motion detectors. The dog wasn’t barking anymore, just growling. When my dad got there, he saw the tiny animal with a vehement grip on the calve of a black man, both snarling at each other as they were locked in combat. Immediately my father was outside, tackling the intruder to the ground.

My mother’s first instinct was the gun. What if the intruder had a weapon or a knife or something? She was not about to become a widow. So she ran into the room, forgetting about her sleeping sons on the floor, stepping on my head in her mad dash rush to the safe. Then grabbing it she ran to the courtyard door and called out to my father, who had wrestled the intruder to the ground by now, pinning his face into the gravel.

She yelled “Gun!?” and he replied “Rope!”

After the police arrived and carted the intruder away, my parents came in and told me the story. I slept soundly that night. Not only would I have an amazing story to impress my friends with the next day, but I felt safe knowing my dad was near.

Back in the moment hiding behind the minivan, I wished that I could still feel the same about him being near. But I may never again.

It began like all our arguments. There was the sickening, coiling feeling that sat like lead in my stomach as I heard his footsteps approaching. I knew what was coming. I had arrived home to find the garage door open like a gigantic mouth, the various tools and pieces of lumber lying scattered about the driveway.

“I’m fixing the back fence. Why don’t you come give me a hand.”

It was not a question. It was a command. I would sigh, get up straining as if the weight of the world was pressing me down in front of the television at that moment. I wasn’t going to pretend that this was fine because I wasn’t fine with it. I knew what would come. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him make me do this work without making him suffer just as much as I was going to suffer.

“What do you expect to get done, holding a saw like that?”

I closed my eyes and swallowed the bile that rose in the back of my throat at his words. Turning around to face him, I didn’t say anything. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all, that was my mantra. While he was baiting me, I was treating his comments with the contempt I felt they deserved and refused to answer.

“Here. When you take the saw lean into it with your shoulder. Stop. No, not like that! Like this. Here. Let me do it.”

And thats how it always went. I had never cared about the proper way to hold a saw. And I never would. And I was okay with that. And the world was okay with that too, because they invented an occupation just to cater to people who didn’t care for woodwork: carpenters. So I was not about to start trying to saw the stupid piece of wood and if he hadn’t gotten it by then, then he won’t get the fact that at that moment he is sawing it instead of me.

“See. Easy. Now, you do the next one. We’re gonna keep sawing out here until you get this right!”

I wanted to protest. To tell him no. To tell him I had plans with my friends. To tell him that I hated his stupid sawing and his stupid lessons and his stupid ideas about what was character and what it took to get it and how to be a real man. It was stupid, ignorant, boorish people like him who gave us immigrants a bad name. A name I had tried so desperately to distance myself from through all these years in America. And here he was, trying to force his shit on me. But I couldn’t say any of that. A thirteen year old boy was not supposed to talk back when he was being taught a “valuable life lesson”.

“No. I just showed you how to hold it. I mean, think about it. Its only logical that if you put your force on that part of your arm–hey! Are you even listening. Pay attention! How do you expect to ever get anywhere in life, acting like a fricken faggot who only stands around and listens to opera and shit!”

My eyes narrowed. My cheeks burned with rage. Not only had he once again showed his incredible stupidity, he had dared to insult my love for opera. There were certain things in life that were forgivable, but somewhere I had to draw the line!

“What are you gonna do someday when you need to fix your own fence? Hmm? Are you gonna go ask your wife to do it while you sit inside and paint your nails? You sure as hell don’t have any niggers here to take care of that for you.”

At this point, I just stood up and walked away. Furiously, I stomped every step on the wooden stairs leading up to the house as if it were his head beneath my feet. A thousand voices of injustice screamed in my brain. This man. This, this, step-father, how dare he!

But at least I made him feel it too. He grew frustrated by the fact that I didn’t care. That I stopped trying almost right away. And that was the revenge I took. I would hand him the wrong tool on purpose. I would forget where the planks were supposed to go, and would drop all the screws on the grass on purpose. That would show him.

Inside I would sit down again, pick up a book, put it down, get back up, walk down the hall, turn around, walk back, sit down, turn the television on. Trying to summon normallacy, trying to tell myself that I didn’t care. That I was the one who was wronged. That I didn’t feel guilty. That I wouldn’t allow him to make me feel guilty.

Then there was that sound. The sudden crash as a plate was thrown against the floor. That filled me with more fear than any sound I ever heard from outside my window back in South Africa. Because this was inside the house. The house that was supposed to be safe. In America where everything was supposed to be better. With my father, who was supposed to be protecting us.

It wasn’t the first time he threw a plate. Or punched a hole in the wall. And after ever one of his little outburst he’d be fine. Like a volcano that had expended its lava, there would be nothing left and he would be tranquil and fine, like any other mountain on the mountain range. But deep down you knew he was accumulating magma again, getting ready for the next explosion. At first I felt bad, knowing that I had in part, caused his frustration to rise like that. But later, I just grew angrier at him. It was his fault that I was frustrating him to begin with. He should have just left me alone. Should have gotten the message and quit the whole, father-son manual labor fantasy he had in his head. It wasn’t going to happen.

It was later, at dinner time, when things went wrong. Through the years in this new country of TV dinners and strangers for neighbors, my mother had insisted in one thing; that everyone still eat together every night. So we had both sat and endured the silence that hung over that table. Gradually, normal conversation began to trickle into the air, until finally a collective sigh of relief could be felt from everyone at the table. That was until he brought the tentative and fragile peace crashing down.

“So, yeah, I really like the book. I might buy it.”

“Hah! With what money? Not mine.”

“You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t have to. You’re just gonna waste more of your money on story books that won’t ever help you in the future.”

“And sawing will?”

“You better watch it, boy. You should be grateful that I am taking the time to teach you something you can use at least!”

My mother and brothers, realizing that the conversation was growing explosive, began clearing the table.

“Isn’t it true, boy, that you can’t just hide yourself away in your fairytales! The world is a cruel mother fucker and you better be ready to face it! To be a man!”

“A man like you? Who makes fun of me when I can’t do the things you want me to!”

“You don’t even try!”

“I did! A long time ago I used to try and you would say the same things! Calling me a sissy. Saying I was acting like a faggot. And I couldn’t say anything back to you cause I wasn’t allowed to. But I’m getting sick of it! You can’t talk to people like that!”

“You better shut your mouth you little brat!”

“See! There you’re doing it again! I can’t talk to you! I can’t say anything!”

“That’s right! Because you’re just a child! You don’t know anything! You just sit there and attack what I say. But what I say, the way I speak, that’s just who I am. And that isn’t ever going to change!”

“But it doesn’t have to be that way–”

“Shut the fuck up! You don’t know anything! You better stop attacking who I am! Attacking me! I am your father, you little mother-fucker! I can’t control the way I am, or the things I say!”

I didn’t say anything, as the heat simmered in the air of the room. I walked around the table, picking up my plate and carrying towards the kitchen. Turning around, I looked back at him, intent that I would not cry, not let him win.

“You’re just a child. Maybe someday you’ll understand, but until then you better hold your tongue!”

“Everyone can control what they say.”

That was the comment that drove him over the edge. There is a surreal moment right after a shocking action, when both people stand still for only a second. But it feels like years that you just stand there looking at each other. I looked at him and the thought occurred like a distant echo.

He had just punched me in the face.

His words seemed to be distorted and distant as he said, “No one talks to me like that!”

While he stood there, red faced, nostrils flaring, I felt like I was someone else, looking into this unreal scene. This couldn’t be me. This could’t be my life. Other people get punched by their fathers. Not me. Not my life. This had to be.... something else... my father protected me at night when the robbers came, he let me get in the covers with him to keep me safe, he could kick any robber’s ass. That was my father. Not this man who stood before me.

And slowly, still in that same captured second, the reality sank like a weight into my soul and began to blaze like a comet as it plunged deeper. I turned, put the plate still in my hands on the kitchen table, and then walked out of the back door. And I ran. And as I ran, that blazing comet falling inside set fire to my entire identity. Everything I was, everything I thought I knew, everything I believed began to catch fire and burn. And as I ran I felt tears rolling down my burning cheeks. This was not how things were supposed to happen. This was not what my life was supposed to be like.

Now, sitting behind the green mini van I finally let my breath out as I wiped my face clean. I took out my cellphone. I could call my best friend, Tim. He lived just a few blocks away. I could ask to spend the night. I could ask him not to tell anyone. I didn’t want anyone else to know. I felt ashamed. Guilty that I had caused all this to happen. But as I opened my phone to call him, I saw his last message to me and remembered that he was gone. He was in LA for the next few months. I couldn’t call him.

What about my other best friend, James? I tried calling him. No answer. I tried again and again. Still nothing. I thought about all the other friends and people I knew, but none were close enough, none could get to me. I couldn’t drive yet. I couldn’t get to them. I was on my own. All alone. Sitting on the curb behind a dirty, green minivan in the middle of the night. There was no one there for me.

Then the phone vibrated. The display read, “Home”. It couldn’t be him calling. He never called. I thought about not answering. Let them wonder where I had gone. Let them worry about their son. Let them suffer a bit, to teach them a lesson that they will never ever lay a finger on me again. The phone kept ringing and the chill entered my bones. There was nowhere else to go. No one else. All I had was them.

I knew what would come. Apologies and regrets. Sentiments and empty promises. Sure he’d go to anger management this time. Sure he’d talk to the pastor this time. Sure he would change. In that moment, I closed my burning eyes and knew what was coming and knew what I was about to do and hated myself for being so weak, so scared. Like that little boy under the bed covers again. I opened my eyes and answered the phone.

“Hello?”

A chill bled into my soul as all the heat inside was extinguished with a sudden hiss. A slow curling trail of smoke rising like a prayer heaven ward over the ashes of my reality. The reality that my mom’s voice was the only one on the other end of the line.

Undign

2011-04-05T15:32:00.000-07:00

Uncertainty, here you are again

Welcome home my old friend

Have you missed this cozy nest

That you burrowed so long ago in my chest?

Sit down by the fire where burns my face

Relax and tell me about your days

Where did you travel? Where did you go?

What did you see? What did you show?

Who were you then? Who are you now?

Tell me your story. Tell me how.

Uncertainty raised his gorgeous head

And with the palm of his hand for its bed

He sighed contentedly by my fire

As he took his draught of my pain and ire

But no words spoke my fiend to me yet

Only lighting and drawing from his lone cigarette

Where did he travel? Where did he go?

What did he see? What did he show?

Who was he then? Who was he now?

Telling his story. Telling me how.

"I left your breast when you put me out

On that cold winters day, when love was about

And I sailed from you on wings of the night

And I sought shelter from the harsh truth's light.

When found I a window in the land so cold

Upon the back of one ancient and with soul so old.

The master of pen and ink and dark dreams

Who unraveled men with a pluck at their seams.

This is where I traveled, and to him did I show.

The road that led back here to your home.

He raised me up to the window right here, now.

And that is the answer to your questioning how."

Old master, forgiveness, I pray you shall grant

Ever to usurp you again, no I shant

Here see, I do place my hands in the fetters

Bind them now with your lies and your letters.

For without you here poisoning my heart

The world has become too grey and too dark

Your poison like silver-tongued liquid fire

Has filled all my dreams with heady desire.

For alas though ambrosia may be fine for the gods

I find only consistent your chains and your rods.

Do not further travel. No more should you go.

For no one will see and nobody will know.

Remake me now, tear my strength from my side

Till all is shell-like and there is nothing to hide.

Shadow

2011-03-20T17:12:00.000-07:00

Haunt my steps forever

And I shall turn a blind eye

In the company of the forsaken

You shall never hear me cry

Touch the soles of my feet

With your ink stained fingers

And as the moon grows dim

Your warm breath lingers

My forever companion

The wraith upon my back

Your night-eyes alone see all

My void, my lack

I pin you to this paper

With ink and pen stained words

But I do still not dare name you

For then your voice will be heard

Black wings that rest upon me

Covering with midnight’s hue

Cold chill within my veins

Will I never escape you?

Never comes your raven reply

Never solace shall you find

Never will this maw close

Never the whisper leave your mind

The Faceless Child: Chapter 1

2011-03-20T02:43:00.000-07:00

The Faceless Child

“Of all Mother-Monster’s children,

Only one did she despise

So much she could not even bare

To look into his eyes.

She reached out one massive claw,

And off his face she tore,

O Hear the Faceless Child’s Cries

In the night forevermore”

Maryanne Webber stepped inside the lobby, the large glass doors closing with a his of air behind her. Inside, the cold air conditioned air washed over her, shocking her senses after the ride in the hot car during the summer heatwave. The front desk bled out from behind a corner and wrapped around the front wall before disappearing behind another corner, like the body of some colossal gray snake. Sitting behind it was what appeared to be a woman. She was dressed in grey button up shirt that should have been ironed, while glasses that weren’t in style even back in 1974 when she first got them rested low on the bridge of her nose with a thin brushing of dark hairs beneath it quivered as she strained with the pencil being macerated between her teeth. This was the lone security guard on duty. Straining all her might to figure out D-42 across.

Maryanne gave a small smile, one she rarely showed but frequently felt. It was the warm glow of accomplishment, of success, that only came when she was in the presence of someone who had obviously screwed up their life. This woman looked like she had been working this same spot for the last twenty years, while Maryanne had been promoted twice in the last year alone. Not to mention the obvious lack of a wedding ring. Not that Maryanne was married, but she definitely still had plenty of time and the body to make it happen– if she wanted to of course.

“Excuse me....” she said clearing her throat as she replaced a stray blonde hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, I saw you hun, hold on one sec.” the woman behind the counter answered, still not looking up from the crossword, resting her whiskered chin in her large, manly hand.

“Excuse me, but I do not have time for this! I have an appointment and I’m only 5 minutes early!” She added the last part as another gentle reminder that she was the type of woman who would show up early, not like this tramp without an iota of punctuality.

“Well, hun.” The woman said, making eye contact with Maryanne, which drained a lot of Maryanne’s confidence from her, “You’ll just have to wait. Won’t you?”

“Sorry ‘hun’ but I don’t wait for anyone!” Maryanne said as she began walking past the woman, following the body of the grey coiling desk.

“Uh-uh-ah.” The woman intoned, swiveling around in her chair, holding up a large metallic box with a red switch prominently at the center. “Take one step over the yeller line and I drop the switch. Lock down. Boom. Then you’ll be more than five minutes late for that meeting.”

Maryanne looked at the yellow caution-tape like line that ran from the bend of the snake-desk across the floor. She turned and made eye contact with the woman. Her own off green eyes were reduced to slivers as she met the woman’s sharp blue ones. She folded her arms, tapping her foot.

“I want to talk to your supervisor.” Maryanne said tersely as she tapped her foot faster.

The woman just laughed, reached into the desk and pulled out a small black pouch. Maryanne rolled her eyes. Great this woman was going to eat her lunch before she did anything to help her. This was perfect. But at least now she would have an excuse if she was late. And just wait until she was back at the cafe with her friends. She could see the conversation now.

“Jocelyn, hold on!” she would yell as she saw her friend pull her card out first.

“No, Maryanne. You paid for drinks last night. I’m getting our coffee.” The older brunette would say.

“No, really Jocelyn, you’re just being rediculous.” Maryanne would add, pulling her own card out, making sure that the platinum, diamond edge would flash just enough to make Jocelyn realize Maryanne was doing very well after getting the raise.

“Please, just take my card.” Jocelyn would say, handing her card to the poor cashier, as Maryanne’s hand would push ahead of hers.

“No, take mine. She’s crazy she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I am paying.” Maryanne would say, half a tease but half the hammer blow to remind her friend just where the power dynamic lay.

But in the end, Maryanne would “let” Jocelyn pay. That was how it worked. She was there to console Jocelyn, to help her, to remind her what her life could have been like if she hadn’t married that two-bit accountant from Indonesia who promised he would make CFO someday. A constant reminder to Jocelyn that if she isn’t careful she’ll make more mistakes like that. She’ll be less and less like Maryanne. So Jocelyn will pay for the privelge and benefit of sitting with Maryanne at their table by the corner window.

From outside they’ll be able to see the old sign, “Cafe de Joure” overgrown with ivy all over the brick. The low wrought iron fence enclosing the outside seating will usually have a cardinal or raven sitting on it, a nice enough place during summer. But they almost always sit at their spot inside, where they can see all the other people in the cafe and comment on them.

“Oh my lord, will you look at that!” Jocelyn will say, looking towards a couple in the corner booth.

A young boy, no older than nineteen might be helping a girl who looks barely seventeen into the booth. His jeans are worn at the knees, his t-shirt has a superhero silk-screened on it, his baseball cap looks like it came from his high school team not too long ago. She has her hair back in a ponytail, wearing sweatpants and what must obviously be his hoody. She is also obviously pregnant.

“Hmmm, looks like Niles and Miranda.” Maryanne would say, hiding her satisfied smile in a sip of coffee.

“Oh! Maryanne! You are terrible!” Jocelyn would fein surprise that her friend would name names, laughing and smiling before replying, “Though you are probably right. I mean, Miranda was what? Sixteen at the most?”

“You mean the first or the second time?” Maryanne would reply, smiling coyly at the bit of gossip she so ‘accidentally dropped’.

“Second time? What?! No! You’re joking!” Jocelyn would say, eyes growing larger as she scooted closer, leaning in as if Maryanne should whisper it to her.

“Well, I mean it’s no secret the type of person Miranda is.” Maryanne would say, putting the cup down, “I mean, really, people like her, who don’t have a lick of self control. It’s disgusting.”

“But Miranda and Niles were only together for six months before–” and then Jocelyn’s eyes would grow even wider, “No! You mean... but then... does Niles know?”

“Not as much as he thinks.” Maryanne would say, “But then again, I always did say only an idiot like Niles would fall for someone like Miranda without knowing what they were getting themselves into.”

“It’s a shame.” Jocelyn would say, always trying to sound the saint, “They are both really nice.”

But Maryanne would not be outdone by her, “Oh yes, I love them both to pieces. They are really great. I just wish they hadn’t made such poor decisions. It’s their decisions that push people away” and by people she meant herself of course “Sometimes I wish I had kept more in touch. But I guess that’s just life.”

But then before Jocelyn would have a chance to say anything else, to possibly defend Niles and Miranda, the idiot and the tramp, Maryanne would quickly change the topic. This is why she was not actually as upset at the security guard as she was making herself out to be.

“Speaking of frustrating people though! The other day I went for the meeting at the corporate offices, and you would not believe the nerve of the security guard at the front desk!” Maryanne would say, acting as indignant as if it was happening to her all over again.

“What happened? Did he frisk you?” Jocelyn would say with a half giggle, sipping from her cup.

“No! It was a woman!” Maryanne would correct Jocelyn, not pleased that Jocelyn should be amused at her expense.

“A lesbian groped you?” Jocelyn was almost visibly salivating at the gossip she would be able to share with her yoga buddy or her running partners.

“Please. Control yourself. It was nothing graphic.” Maryanne would let only disgust and disdain drip as she said it, putting Jocelyn squarely back in her place, “But she would not let me in, even after I told her I was running late!”

“What?! The nerve!” Jocelyn would say, as if she could somehow understand what it felt like, as if her daughter’s nanny who frequently talked back to her was the same level of insolence at all.

“That’s what I said. And then when I tried to walk in anyway she threatened to lock me in the lobby and call the police!” Maryanne decided that it was okay for her to stretch the truth a little.

“What on earth possessed the woman?” Jocelyn would say shocked.

“Well, if you must know.” and here Maryanne would drop the clincher, proving to Jocelyn just how wonderful and interesting her life really was. “She reached down and pulled out her lunch!”

Instead of thinking of all the possible reactions that Jocelyn might have, Maryanne decided that she would instead focus on the contents of the black bag. At the very least, it would be amusing to tell Jocelyn of the contents. Probably not a single vitamin or nutrient in the lunchbox. The woman probably didn’t even know or understand free-radicals or omega-3. And what if she pulled out a salad? Well Jocelyn would never know. All she would hear about would be fried pig’s ears or doughnuts. Doughnuts, that dillectable and yet oh so trashy dessert that she and Jocelyn both craved yet could not– and would not– afford to eat or even mention except in passing. To think would cause calories to collect.

Maryanne had already decided that no matter what the security guard pulled out, she was going to say it was doughnuts either way, when her attention was pulled back by the woman.

“That was pathetic.” the woman said, her voice suddenly much higher pitched and less gravely. “Of all the shallow, miserable people I have had to eat, you are definitely the most inferior. It’s like watching neural synapsis kill themselves.”

“Wh-what?” Maryanne said, unnerved by the way the woman’s voice had changed but also by the way her black eyes were staring into Maryanne’s own. “Eat?”

For some reason none of it made sense to Maryanne. It was as if the world had suddenly slowed. Maryanne just could not make the woman’s words form meaning. Why did she say eat? She must have meant something else. But what could she have meant to say?

“No, Maryanne. I meant exactly what I said. I am going to eat you. And not enjoy a moment of it.” the security guard said, before pulling her hand from the black pouch, revealing a gleaming gun. “This isn’t the first time I’ve used a gun. It’s just difficult to keep things... clean.”

Maryanne could not come to terms with what was happening. This was her life! She wasn’t supposed to ever see a gun, much less have one pointed at her! She was supposed to always make it, even if she had to call her Daddy and have him make a few phone calls. She was the one who would never die. Now, she stood there, trembling as a cool barrel of the gun was forced against her temple. Her body began shaking, her fingers turning numb as adrenaline and cold fear coursed through her veins like cool fire.

“Who are you?” she said, her voice cracking.

“Maryanne, the question is not ‘who’,” the woman said, getting up and stepping up on the gray desk. “The question is what?”

Maryanne tried to look around. Tried to think of a place to run to. But not only did the woman have a gun. She had the lockdown button. There was a bathroom, but it was probably too far away. Unless. Unless Maryanne jumped over the desk, and ran behind the corner and then jumped for the bathroom.

“Ah, but that won’t work.” the security guard said, “I’d shoot you as you jumped over the desk.”

That was when Maryanne realized that the woman had been answering her thoughts. “W-what are you?”

A cool hand, much younger and much paler than had belonged to the old security guard rested on Maryanne’s cheek. In a state of shock, she followed the hand to the arm and then to the owner of the hand. The black irises, like oceans of ink and darkness, threatened to drown Maryanne. It was only when he said it that she realized what lay beneath the eye-line.

“I am the Faceless Child.”

The cameras do not show what happened to Silvia McCohe the security guard. The last time she was seen, she had left for home two weeks before. When the neighbors complained about the smell, the police had been called to investigate. What they found was so terrible, they never spoke of it afterwards. Silvia was found, sitting in her chair in front of a TV still turned to infomercials. On her lap was one of her cats. It was pulling strips of flesh from what used to be her arm. But what was most shocking was her head. Her entire face was gone. No marks, no bruises, no flesh, no bone. Just the empty darkness of an empty skull. The body was sealed in a bag, labeled with a standard white name tag, which was left blank except for a massive black F drawn over it. From there it was taken to an undisclosed location on the Cascade Mountain Range in the Pacific Northwest, to an old concrete building marked with the same letter F . Inside, a group of old and forgotten scientist were woken by the disturbance when the truck baring the body bag arrived. They placed the still sealed body on a slab and slid it into a freezer unit next to hundreds just like it. Then they wrote the number 292 on the tag, and left, turning the light off as they did.

Down

2011-03-16T22:35:00.000-07:00

I write my morning down

Right there in my journal

Line by line I remind myself

I remind myself of the dreams I have dreamt

Of the places I’ve been, the friends I’ve made

I write the morning song

Of the bird outside my window

I write the sweetest taste

Of coffee flowing through my soul

I write my morning sunshine

Or promises long made

Or the self I want to be

I write myself, my story

Down

The day rises up to meet me

And I write my life as I go

Across the yellow sticky notes

Line by line the times and places

Reminders and long lost faces

Scrawled across my planner

Cross out, white out, redo

The plans that run together

Before they just run out

The thoughts that run in circles

The time that slowly runs round

As I run from here to there

Running, writing on the go,

My life writes right along

I forget the pen, the paper,

I forget the words, the phrases,

I forget that life writes right along

As the clocks go on winding

Down

As as the days draw darker

And the sun fades from the sky

I seek out my muse in the secret

And in the darkest soil find birth

Rich treasure delved from depths

Unspoken and unseen

This pen, it is my shovel

My muse my guide, my guardian

I who wakes me in the night

We fight and wrestle

Till morning’s hour

We break the yoke and fly

Till the touch lands on my shoulder

And the strength shrinks goodbye

Building sand into marble

Line by line the tower towers

While slowly slumber claims my soul

To take it lower lower deeper

Down