Never, found a composer who could keep me composed.
Never, met an artist able of painting a tone.
Never, needed a novelist to write a melody before.
Melt away the first and last time we kissed.
Now, just a haunting song lost somewhere in the mist.
True lovers. Really true lovers, the kinds of fae tales. They may be unrealistic. Heroes and Heroines rarely, if ever, stand up against evil, at least the greatest ones. They also usually don’t possess from birth (or bite, ingestion, injection or hex) super human abilities or mutations that aid them in their fights. They also don’t cover their freakish identities with silly human costumes, secret identities. These lines written here have been utter nonsense. Things I probably heard at some point in my life in some rearranged order that I have dictated here to you, here today, in two-thousand-and-fucking-eleven… God, I even begin to forget what year it is… the comfort and expectation of those ever climbing and yet familiar nine-teen-nighties… seven, eight, nine… and then I was in high school. Looking for a love, a tale of woe, a sad, sad, weepy story. I found one. I found a few. Yet, I’m still proving to be most unrealistic.
April is National Poetry Month and it was a hard decision to forgo NaPoWriMo but I just couldn’t make it work with trying to find a job. Now I’ve had my interview and will be hired once I pass a pre-employment sandwich formula test…
I didn’t want to miss out on all the fun I just had to write some poems… Now, I’m feverish thinking I should just write the full 30! I may add in a few revisions here and there but I have a small start already…
Ageless Plastic People
I never could fit
in the plastic mold.
Thoughts run like a nose
in a circumstance of constant cold.
I unwrinkle the winks and smiles
that once indicated youth.
As the lines and frowns return
I learn to love the process of growing old.
Until, I too am resigned to the back shelf
flaking off next to greening cheese.
Throbbing, bobbing eyeballs popping
masked by the sound of knees cracking,
back breaking, body hurling toward the ground.
More to come in the next few days. Hopefully I can make it to 30!
I swallow the sky, taste stars and breathe out. Watch as galaxies glow in their iridescent emptiness. Worlds are cast in meaningless darkness until her eyes shine on them.
Sweet and gentle night where are you hid away?
Imagine a cold breeze whistle through dark trees.
Long for the moment when winds grow silent
to be held in darkness, hiding from secrets.
Light is far too hot and bright, burns scratched up eyes.
I need to see the moon tucked in its velvet sky.
Birds are far too noisy for sleep.
Days so sad they make me weep.
Yet, in memories of gentle nights I find, you.
Nice to dream when stars start to gleam.
Never forget the comforting song
of time spent all alone in the dark.
flames signal sin
melts tangled roots
leaves empty hallways
wait to be full…
a curved spine…
Asylum eyed girl
sits across a mirror
making crisscrossed exes
over hallow eyes, shallowly smiling…
A Technological Distopian Novella for Adolescents and Adults
Introduction– Luck’s dreams, eye-sight and upbringing
Prologue– Losing More than Sight
Chapter 1– Meeting Roman
Chapter 2– Checking the Map
Chapter 3– Three Travelers
Chapter 4– The Plan
Chapter 5– The Hospital
Chapter 6– Mom’s Room
Chapter 7– The Elevators
Chapter 8– Lookout Lighthouse
Chapter 9– The Other Side of the Wall
Chapter 10– The Many Faces of Naomi Lowman
Chapter 11– The Elders of the Wood
Chapter 12– The Tiger on the Carousel
Chapter 13– Reaching Roxy
Chapter 14– The Way Back
Chapter 15– The Record Room
Chapter 16– Ending the Program
Chapter 17– Lucky Downloaded
Chapter 18– Captives in Comnet
Chapter 19– The Machine-Made Man
Chapter 20– All We See or Seem
Chapter 21– Back to the Woods
Chapter 22– Finding the Key
Chapter 23– Face to Face with the Past
Chapter 24– Awakening the Dreamers
Chapter 25– Locking In
Chapter 26– The Operation
Chapter 27– Disconnected
Epilogue– On the nature of science and art of dreams
Waltzing in a whirl wondering when I will feel the warmth again. Dancing in circles desperate for more, a deeper feeling, more meaning of being.
Lost and alone, you stand there, but where is our world? I can’t find you so lost in mine, in and out of consciousness, barely aware, mind confined, to the place hide in.
So scared you’re not here. Have we have grown apart and lost it? I hunger for the love we had, I want you in my bed, I want to know us again.