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Showing posts from October, 2018

Oliver and Company

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Oliver and Company    Everything fell apart, everything. It all became a shamble of horrors, of mental disparity. Ghosts now cling to the walls, to the pictures, to the dusty cabinets that bare no food. No voices have spoken a single word within these walls in months.   Everything is gone, crumbled, vanished in an instant. Oliver is no longer whimsical in his thoughts, his heart, now a black hole. A cosmos of black space, a cold chamber of hate. He is now a friend among the cobwebs and spiders. He curls to the corners of his dark home and whispers as the infestation of madness infests.   His mind curtails any thoughts of joy. His bones poke from his flesh like fingers pressed to dough. He is mental in his own. A soul reaping of rotted stench and ugly woes. His mouth is foul with pity as he crawls on his hands and knees.  Mumbling nonsense beneath his breath. His teeth clattering to the frozen as winter proceeds to give him no warmth. He cries out, but there is no one to lis

Be Homeless

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Be Homeless I hear it a lot, that the day sucks, life sucks, or something sucks. I hear people complain as if everyone is out to get them. I hear people complain because something they bought at the store is fifty cents more than what the listing in the stores coupon book said. I hear people complain because they don't have a nice car, or a house. I hear people complain all the time about the lamest things ever. People complaining about situations they put themselves in and then bitch about how they got screwed. People complain about being pulled over when they broke the law.....hint, you broke the law. Worst part is, I used to be one of these people. A mouth full of complaints like a fat kid in cupcake shop. I was rampant about complaining with every breath I had. But today's thought is not about me, it is about those that fill mouths with complaints. It is about thinking deep into something you are not and hope you would never wish to be. It is about catching

What Must I do?

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What Must I do? What shall I do to appease the crowd? What words must I fling from my lips to caress your soul? Should I write of love? What of misery and torment? Will the depiction of shadows infesting a lonely heart suffice?  Must I not touch the politics of the world or may I, but I am not of the side you desire? Does what I write bore the mind? Are my stories too bleak, do they not bring enough happiness? Are my words too bitter, too painful? Do my thoughts not consume the very air you breath? Must I break character and fall inline?  Or is what I write done well that most fear of what I write? Are my words, my thoughts too heavy for the average heart? Am I to shrouded in my words?  Should I write more clearly more precise in my endings and my beginnings? Does my grammar cause your eyes to cringe? What must I be, what must I do for you, for all?  For I feel the lack of interest build as I build my collection of stories. I can see the lethargic collapse of my audie

A Genius Held by Fear

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  A Genius Held by Fear Therby is a man of science, of thoughts and genius. Every night he delves into his mind and plucks from it new ideas. He would plant each new idea onto paper. Quickly skimming through his mind like a comb through hair.  Every now and then something would stick. Something would become tangled in his mind. An idea that he would have to fight to pry from his entwined neurons. As they send an encrypted idea from all parts of his mind.  Shooting like a needle pricked upon the finger. On such ideas he would find himself lost from all others things. Lost from his daily errands, meetings, or any such other endeavor he would have. Many times, Therby would forget to arrive for doctor appointments for his treatments.  Treatments for his deteriorating body. He was diagnosed with Bright's Disease. The treatments given were opiates and the occasional blood letting. But Therby preferred finding himself enthralled in solving the idea that would ramble in his hea

She Weeps

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  She Weeps  Oh and she weeps. She weeps among the stars and the sadness in her eyes. She looks in her reflection and she is burdened. She sees only the darkness that runs along her skin like scales. But she finds no season to shed it.  She is ambushed in her tears. Cornered by the splitting of her thoughts. She is encumbered by noise, by the bristles of her mind. Pricked with each passing second as she tries to allude to something else. To anger, to hope, to anxiety, to coldness, or the hollow halls of the numb.  To anything but this miserable feeling of existence. Feeling useless in the breaking of her world. Watching as villains swarm her cosmos like the flames of hell. Oh she weeps in terror as her makeup cracks upon her face. Disgusted, she turns away. Looking to the far spaces between the vast expanse of space. Her eyes delicate, like fractured glass of an old church. She stares into the void of the empty black. Seeing only the lonely sparks that are but fading stars.

A Daughters Escape

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A Daughters Escape    "Come on, get the notes right, you only have one more day to the show. Father won't be pleased if you end up getting kicked out the show."  Lily turns her head back toward her sister who stands behind her. Lily's fingers remain positioned upon the harp. The sun glazes the room through thin white shades of the music room. It's dark floors resonate with a cool feel of a summereve as the sun rests upon it.  Lily, now looking to her sister Ashley, smirks and says, "Guess I will be getting kicked out, I'd rather be disliked by fathers so called friends than do something I find no passion in. Father only wants me to play because all his friends youngest daughters play instruments, but I don't want to." Lily drops her arms from the harp and stands up and turns toward Ashley.  Ashley, standing next to the window, the sun glares off her pearl skin like light upon soft ivory keys. She looks to Lily, places her hands upon h

A Boy's Shadow

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A Boy's Shadow    It's a cold winter morning, before the sun has risen. Snow covers all inches of the neighboring surroundings. The sky is engulfed in dark feathery clouds. The air is silent as the soft trickling of snow obscures with beauty.   On this cold winter morning, a young boy, the age of thirteen wakes from his slumber. From his dream of dragons and wizards. He opens his eyes slowly, gathering himself into reality. Like picking the last few pieces of a puzzle.    Awake, he sits up in his bed, as he does, something strange rushes through his body. He loses his ability to breath, but only for a moment. His skin flushes pale as he loses breath. What ever passed through him. It felt as if it was a dark presence, something ghastly.  The boy, feels his body regain control, his lungs fill with air. A sigh of relief overcomes his chest. But as he sits, he ponders the presence he just felt. He then remember such a moment, one as exact as this; but in a dream.   It

The Angels Have not Left

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The Angels Have not Left  The sun sets high, it's midday and the kingdom of Erlise is under attack by Herald. Herald is the neighboring king. A king of greed and power, his magic surpasses most. They say he sold his soul to the devil for the power he wields.  His magic is dark, it is fueled by anger and the souls of the damned. His eyes as red as the blood that pumps beneath flesh. He wears a cloak of black, draped over armor built by the hands of demons. His sword, designed in constriction to grow in height.  He wields such a blade with ferocity and rage. As the sun sits high Herald walks the towering steps to the entrance of Erlise. The guards, mere mortals, some bear magic, magic that is cast by word. But most mortals cannot reach beyond the ability to cast a fireball.  They wear armor of silver coated in spells to resist magic. But as they rush to strike down Herald from where he stands. Their armor is capable of no resistance. He slaughters them where they stand w

A Love at War

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A Love at War Darling, I stand before you as I prepare for my possible end, our end. For tonight I must take up my sword and fight for our country. I have bound myself to this country so that I may fight for it and allow it to stand beyond the test of time. To see its banner fly even through the darkest of times.  But my darling, as we take our last kiss and hold each other before we must say goodbye. Let it be known to you and the world, that I not only fight for the land beneath my feet and those that walk beside me. But fight for our opportunity of love.  I fight so that we may be safe in our homes. Safe, so that we may birth a family and grow old. I fight for our love darling. So that we may not love only for a moment, but for a lifetime. For we are given freedom to choose our love. To hold hands with whomever we may place our hearts upon.  I fight for these soils so that those who cannot defend themselves may have opportunity to live. Opportunity to do what they love.

Alone among the Rain

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Alone among the Rain Though the rain shall pour and I may sit alone atop a bench in an empty park. I have my dreams, my imagination and the pages I hold in my hand. Pages that are to be written as I wish. To be read as I mean them to be read.  Though this be an empty moment, a shallow grave for many thoughts. I shall continue thinking, being, doing. I shall live in the rain if I must, a constant wash of my suffering. I sit between the darkness and light, as do you.  In a struggle to not lean one way more than the other and sometimes I do. Sometimes the demons grasp my ribs and pull me. Sometimes the angels hold my heart and I allow such an embrace. I know demons be thy enemy, no matter their words.  But I am but a human. A soul torn from the eyes of god set upon this earth to fight. To win my way to my everlasting love. To raise up my wings and fly or set down my feet and walk. It is I who designs the story I read. It is I who sits alone among this cold night and it is I w

They are Watching, do you See?

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They are Watching, do you See? They are watching, seeing us through the lens of our own homes. They have nestled in the lines of contracts. Legal agreements we are either too lazy to read or understand little of. They are only expanding their reach. Knowing our words before we type them, say them. Recording conversations in silence as we play music from their design. We are sheep among a pack of wolves. They reach for the endless power of greed. Seeking new ways to generate the wealth they need no more. They salivate for the ability to control. To slither into the cameras of our technology. We ignore them, for we would rather be willfully blind than call them out. Than make a stand for our privacy. For it is easier to be told what do to, become slaves of our own suffering, than build character to breed strength and fight.  Our conversations are now as sacred as pile of dog shit in the grass. And they shall guide us to where we shall eat, sleep, and work. They are guiding

A Risky Book

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A Risky Book "Open the book!" Misha says as Soush holds it in his hands. His light silver hair reflects the burning flame of the candle as Misha excitedly holds it over Soush's head. "Quickly, quickly, open it before mother gets home!" Misha wiggling her excited body as a drop of candle wax lands on the cover of the book. Soush pulls the book away as soon as the wax lands on it. "Look what you did...keep the candle away or you'll ruin the book." Misha pulls the candle away quickly as her face falls with unexpected disappointment in herself. But pulling it away quickly, more candle wax drops from the melting stick of wax. Some even splashes onto the ground and onto the surrounding books that are sprawled out on the floor. Soush, see's what Misha has done. He stands up in haste, drops the book on the ground. His eyes glare upon Misha as he attempts to grasp the candle. But Misha resists, she pulls the candle away from Soush as he fig

Spared from Death

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Spared from Death  It was our last meal, I remember it well. It was the meal before everything changed. It was the meal  that tasted so sweet yet so bitter. I remember what it was to this day. It was rice, beans, and a packet of salt. We were given water that had run stale from sitting in horse troughs.  The air was cold that day, the fog was dense. The clouds were low and hovered with authority.  They were of a darkly color, as dark as rising smoke from burning tires. I remember Looking up at them as I ate my food in a huddled crowd of others, I remember they gave me an ominous feel.  But they also gave me comfort. Like a wet coat in the rain, it may not completely protect you from the rain, but it is better than not having it. As I was eating my food, I remember feeling an elderly man, probably fifty years older than me shivering wildly.  His eyes were dark, circled in depression and misery. His skin wrinkled like an old rag. His breath was shallow. His hands shaking as o

The Endeavors shall Reward

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 The Endeavors shall Reward  Its is easy to fall behind, to let things get away from you. One minute you are ahead and the next, things come crashing down. Now you are in a rubble of stress and trying to compile everything to where you can at least start to organize.   Then, when you start to organize, you realize you have missed a few more things. You fall behind  even more. Anxiety starts to manipulate your thoughts into wild distortions. You now feel even more stressed, for a moment you thought you were almost back in order.   But a wolf came by, while you were busy rebuilding your barnyard only to find that sheep missing from your herd. You find the blood, but no victims. You now panic, as you have lost a piece of your resources. You feel the world around you constrict like a rope tightening around your throat.   The clouds above turn grey, it begins to rain. You become seemingly uncomfortable. You want to break down, to fall apart and leave it. Maybe, start all over. Bu

An Exit to Paradise

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An Exit to Paradise The pressure of today has gotten to me.  My job feels like an overbearing weight upon my back. The world feels as if it will never allow me to catch up. I feel my heart being thrust into the atmosphere like a rock hurdled into the sky. I reach for it, but my grasp is to slow. So I watch it blend into the shadows of space. It twinkles for just a moment between the darkness and stars, as if to say goodbye one last time. It's five O'clock, I can finally step out of my office and breathe some air.  I'm walking down the hall to the exit, I can see the exit only a few more steps and I'm free. The glass doors shimmer from the evening sun. Casting shadows beneath the trees just outside. I long to bask in such shadows with a drink in hand and nothing but the wind. But as I leave and my hand touches the handle of the exit a voice calls my name, "Aires!"  I want to keep walking  but I know who it is and I know they know I heard. I he

My Execution of Love

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   My Execution of Love Do as you wish, this heart is a traveler of darkness. Scars have found home upon my heart like termites to rotting foundation. Day by day my heart slowly crumbles, it is nothing without you. Without us.   I am catatonic to love. Frozen in the position of melancholy. A possession of dark clouds have gathered in my mind. I wear a cloak of obsession, an obsession to drown this catastrophic wound.   My floors are covered in lust as I pounce from lips to lips. Seducing the hearts as bleak as mine. But no matter the sedation, I can hear you, feel you. My eyes are green, envious of your ease to cope; to find another.   I have shriveled to bone, to dust. Place me in your hand and I will be blown to the faintest wind. Wild images of darkness shade my thoughts. But if I had the chance to tell you of these, would you even care or would you do as you did when you left?   Walking in blankness as if nothing had meaning. It hurt, our separation, you pulled pain

What is Your Why?

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 What is Your Why? Before you begin on a journey of discovery, before you start down the path of your heart. Ask, what is your reason for such an attempt? Why step into the passion of your heart? What do you want from it? Glory? Fame? Wealth? Freedom? Health? Love? All the above?   These are questions I believe all should ask themselves before they leap from their edge and spread their wings. For one needs a destination and that destination is the why. Without a why, you are surely to fly above the clouds only to end up falling, crashing to earth in a blaze of exhaustion.   I am not saying you shall fly forever the moment you find your why. For there may be many why's you find before you find the one that holds to you. The one that truly sparks you to start and never stop. I have fallen many times from my why's before ever landing on the one that has kept me going.   I have risen as a phoenix many a times. I have watched my wings crumble beneath heavy winds