Thursday, December 10, 2009
Do you hear the call??
Of darkest whispers and crimson fall
Stand still don't move...
Did you feel it's touch??
The painted dreams of lies and such
Quick now move..
Did you delay??
Escape the pain, perhaps you may
Run faster now...
Do you dare???
Into the woods so bleak and bare
Again you stop...
Can you hide??
The demons welling up inside
Take a breath...
To stop the sin???
The feelings coming back again
Open your eyes...
Do you see it shine??
The brilliant light that tells the time
Are you so old??
Fight the crimson and the cold
Now take a step...
Did you just falter??
Just breath again and take another
This is how we make the choice
To live in darkness or rejoice
Just step again and keep on dancing
This is life, we take our chance in.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Peanut butter you are a wonder
I dream about you when I slumber
Not the creamy icky kind
Crunchy suits my taste just fine
Except of course when you are in a cup
Surrounded by chocolate, I eat you up
Smooth then, I will enjoy
Paper wrapping peeled, Oh Boy!!
Mixed into a cookie batter
I'll eat you raw, it doesn't matter
Cooked up fresh, you are the best
Burnt up bottoms I detest
You look awful nasty in your jar
A good source of protein, definitely by far
You have a strange tan brownish hue
I would not want you in my shoe
A little knowledge removed from some
From my hair you remove the gum
Yes you may smell a little funny
But in my tummy you are very yummy.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
White snow glistening all around, the forest trail unwinds
A path that leads to no where, two lovers slowly stride
From the town they hear the sound of children's happy glee
Skating on the frozen lake, and running wild and free
Years have passed since they first met, and never could let go
Of feelings toward each other, that only seemed to grow
An ocean apart, but close at heart, they held on to the wish
That come one Christmas Eve some day, they would share a kiss
The time has finally come for them to never be apart
He holds her frail and aging hand, as he's always held her heart
They stop amidst a copse of trees, the perfect place indeed
To share this long awaited gift, to fill an aching need
This will be their first kiss, a distant love they've shared
His eyes have grown quite tired and there's silver in her hair
He reaches out to hold her, she moves to his embrace
She turns her chin up towards him, he looks down at her face
He leans his head in slowly, their hearts pound and race
He kisses her so softly, with love and with such grace
The Christmas Wish they've waited for, granted for these two
Now they'll never be alone a Christmas dream come true.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Paul shakes his head “you are the biggest pansy of a tough guy I have ever met. Fine I’ll get the door, but if something gets me then I am coming back to haunt you every night for the rest of your life.” Paul takes in a deep breath, trying to steady the nervousness he feels. He exhales and reaches his hand towards the door knob.
Chris raises the Glock holding it with two hands, aimed at the door. “I’ll try not to shoot you. Count of three?”
Paul grasps the knob “three, two, one.” He turns the knob and throws open the door. “No lights, can’t see anything.” He reaches blindly around the corner, fully expecting something to grab his arm and tear him to shreds, flipping the switch, he pulls back to allow Chris space to clear the room.
Chris steps through the door glancing quickly around the entire room watching for immediate danger. He then begins a thorough visual scan starting on the left side of the room working his way around to the right. This is a moment when he is very thankful for sparse furnishings, nothing for some creepy to hide under or behind. “Clear!” He speaks loudly so Paul can hear him.
Both men visibly relax, tension melting from their shoulders and neck. “Okay, no witch waiting in the wings for us. So where did the who or whatever go that dirtied our floor?” Paul asks out loud.
Chris just shrugs his shoulders in reply.
Three gunshots echo through the monastery, the two men look at each other then take off running towards the sound.
The two approach the closed double wooden doors of the impromptu infirmary. “Did you hear that, amigo?” Phillip comes to a stop holding his hand out signaling Pedro hold up“Listen.”
Pedro freezes and tunes his hearing into the silence, “I don’t hear anything, gringo.”
“I know I heard something, sounded like someone dragging something. There it is again.” This time the noise was accompanied by a low gravelly growl. “I know you heard that one, amigo. “
Pedro throws the safety on Colt .45 in his hand. “It’s behind us, man. This sucks.” The low growl becomes a piercing scream as Pedro senses movement behind him. Instinctively he drops and rolls to the left, where he has more room to maneuver, coming up in a crouched position on one foot and one knee. He draws on the Colt looking for a target to sight on to. He feels more than sees the looming figure almost directly in front of him and fires three rounds. Pedro is thrown back against the wall as the weight of the creature falls on him. “PHIL, MAN, HELP ME HERE. IT’S GOT ME!! GET IT OFF, SHOOT IT, SOMETHING!!”
Chuckling, Phil says “Pedro, it’s dead, you got it. Open your eyes and look. You should see yourself lying there screaming like a woman. “
Pedro pulls back his head and opens his eyes and stares directly into the gaping mouth of the creature. Elongated fangs dripping with frothy saliva stare back at him. He has flashes of what could have happened had he not fired when he did. Pedro does the sign of the cross as he pulls himself from under the beast. “Bless you Santa Maria, bless you for saving this humble Mexican’s butt.”
“Now what do we do with this thing?” Phil looks at Pedro, “It’s your mess. Didn’t your mother teach you to clean up after yourself?”
“Let’s go check on everyone first.” Pedro says as he fires off two more rounds into the creature’s skull for good measure. Phil stares at him as if he has lost his mind. “What? Don’t you watch horror movies? Things like this always come back. If I had a stake, I’d drive it through it’s heart as well.” Phil laughs at his friend, “Only you amigo, only you.”
Making his pass near the basement door, Brother Chris is taken aback , his eyebrows furrow as he looks at the floor. He cautiously approaches the door to check the locks, it is secure and in tact. “We’ve got a problem here boys!!! Basement access, now!!!” He shouts as loud as he can as he quickly turns 180 degrees to scan the kitchen. Not too many places for someone to hide, but still don’t want to take any chances. Brother Chris switches the safety off on the Glock 9 millimeter semiautomatic he is carrying and loads a round into the chamber. He would never admit it, but feels somewhat relieved when Brothers Paul, Joshua and Pedro enter the kitchen, weapons at ready.
“What is it??” Brother Paul asks, a quizzical expression on his face.
“Look at the floor” Chris says.
The other Brothers notice the muddy, wet foot prints tracking from the door through the kitchen towards the dining hall. “But how can this be?? There are orders no one is to go in the basement. Surely these things haven’t adapted to walk through solid objects. So what is going on here?” Brother Pedro asks as he bends over to inspect the prints. “Looks like some blood mixed in here too.”
“We have to secure everyone. Pedro, Phillip, you two go and make sure everyone is safe. Chris and I will follow the breadcrumbs to see where they take us.” Brother Paul orders.
Pedro and Philip take off towards the make shift medical ward designed to tend to the ill; where everyone should be.
“Well Hansel, are you ready to find the witch??” Brother Paul teases. Chris rolls his eyes at Paul’s ever corny sense of humor.
Paul and Chris start tracking the footprints through the kitchen, out the side door into the dining room. Weapons raised, they swiftly scan the room, checking both sides of the door working their sights inward towards the center of the room. They each take a side and canvas under the long oak dining room table where they used to have their meals. Empty.
They continue to follow the tracks through the room towards the study. Walking over the multi-colored area rug they notice there are no more tracks on the other side. They glance at each other, “What now Sherlock??” Chris asks Paul “Elementary my dear Watson, we continue this way and back track if we don’t find anything in there.”
They both raise their weapons, tense with the knowledge that the study has no other doors. Either they are going to have a confrontation with a beastie or they have been fooled by a brainless wonder. Worse yet someone might have been down in the basement doing something criminal like letting a creep or two in. None of these conclusions seems to make either man feel at ease.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Keep me close beside your heart, so I can hear it's beat
Let me feel the warmth that's you surround my very soul
For when it's daybreak in morning light I know that you must go.
But for that intermittent while, when in our secret place
Let me feel you next to me, in your warm embrace
Breathing slows as comfort grows and into dreams we go...
Monday, October 5, 2009
My twin sister, Kakra, who is minutes younger than I, loves the attention . She is a self indulgent, narcissist. She thinks she is prettier than me, although we are the same. Kakra constantly chides me " You are father's favorite, blessed and named by the Goddess Isis at birth, you really think you are something special. One day I will see that you pay, Eshe!! You will NEVER rule these lands as Queen. I am stronger than you and will be ruler!!"
Dealing with that who wouldn't love a little time alone with the crocodiles and toads??? "I heard that," I hear Kakra say in my head. Okay so I don't ever really get much time alone, my sister and I, while completely different in personality, share a psychic bond and are in each others heads all the time. As little girls, this was fun. We could share secrets and no one could over hear. I know everything about her and she about me. I know she too, has been studying, although she has a preference for the black arts. "Leave me be, Kakra." I hear her laughing response, oh how she loves to torment me.
I open my book to read, but begin to feel very sleepy after sipping from my cup of wine. The words on the pages are a blur and I cannot make them out. As I drift off as I hear echos of my sister's laughter.
I awake to find myself laid out on a stone table stripped of my garments and adornments. My eyes are open and I can see. I can hear the High Priest cast his last rites as the others, adorned in their death ceremony masks chant around us. I wonder who has died??? I try to sit up to see, but cannot move. I feel hands on my body, rubbing scented oils and realize this is the purification ritual of the dead, and they think I am the dead. Panic seizes me, I try to fight, but once again find my body paralyzed by whatever evil spell has been cast. I feel a burning like acid, begin to course through my body and know that she has poisoned me. My own flesh and blood. "I told you I would be Queen" I hear Kakra in my head. "Help me, Kakra, please. This is wrong!!" All I hear is her evil laughter in response to my begging.
A hand reaches across my face and gently closes my eyes and I feel the cool, metal of silver coins being placed on my lids, my fee to cross the river Styx. I scream, but it only resounds in my head. I begin praying to Isis, who blessed me at birth. "Mother Isis, please help me, please let them see that I am still alive." I hear Kakra "No one will help you, you are dead to everyone."
Two strong, masculine hands grab my head and tilt it back. It is the priest. I can smell the burning incense mingled with the sweat of his body as he speaks the death blessing to me. I know what is next and try with all my might to move, to blink, anything so this madness will stop!! I feel the hook begin to make it's way up my nasal passage. It's goal is to remove my brain piece by piece. I try to mentally block out what is happening. It seems to work as the world goes dark.
I come to, feeling dizzy and confused. I can move and breathe, it was only a dream! I open my eyes fully and am taken aback. I am still in the death chamber, although on the floor. I see my body laid out on the table, the priest inserting the hook. I hear my sister in my head "NOOOooooOOo!!! How can this be???? " Now it is my turn to laugh "I am the blessed one Kakra, my name, Eshe is life. You were merely a shadow of me. Now you're body is my vessel, and how convenient it is that I don't have to change a thing. It's great to be twins, is it not, Kakra??" I laugh again at her horror. " I must excuse myself now, it's seems Father is about to come down with the same ailment as I, oh wait, you. I must prepare myself to step into his place."
As I walk out of the chamber, I hear the wet pop and squishing noise as the hook jams into Kakra's brain. I giggle softly as I set out to rule the world.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
For some reason all children want to be older than what they are. My seven year old wishes he were ten, then life would be great because he could walk down the road to his friend's house unaccompanied. Every child I've ever spoken to wishes this blessing upon themselves, to be more grown up.
All except my five year old who wishes he was a baby again because, he says, " I was so cute" . So I asked, "Do you not think you are cute now?" His reply, " I am only kind of cute now, but I am growing up. Babies are very cute." This lead him to discover a new philosophy: For every birthday we skip, we grow a year younger. He is looking forward to growing younger as the years go by, and reasons that when he is nine, he will be at the perfect baby age to achieve his ideal cuteness.
In the meantime, he will have to suffer through days of "Boring, nothing to do" school and cleaning his room. Which he finds annoying because he will just have to dump everything out again to find that one perfect toy to play with.
So, I sit here now and think, this one is going to be trouble. He, I believe, will grow into one of those who goes against the grain of society's rules. Perhaps there is hope for our up and coming generation to make changes for the better in our world.