Monday, November 30, 2009

ODE TO PEANUT BUTTER

In response to @PuriChristos and my double dog dare

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

The Christmas Wish

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.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Eyes Closed

I am so very tired and drained. I need you with me now, so I close my eyes and think of you. My heart is filled with joy, my spirit lifts with my eyes closed and you near me. With my eyes closed this world is ours, we have each other to touch, to feel, to talk, to listen. You are mine when my eyes close.

Night is upon me now and with eyes closed I can feel you lying next to me in a bed that is our own. I can hear your heartbeat as my head rests on your chest soothing in my ear. Your arm wrapped around me tight, pulling me close to you, our hands entwined on your stomach. Our love encompassing my very being.

It is cold tonight, but the warmth of your body against me keeps the chill of the night at bay. The sound of your voice in my mind keeps me from breaking as you tell me "It's all going to be okay." You soothe me. I can hear you talking to me now, as if you were with me. With eyes closed the vibration of your voice calms my body, my tension easing away.

With eyes closed I begin to drift off to sleep next to you with the peace and comfort you bring. Before I fall into my dreams I lift my head, you lower yours, for a tender kiss good night. My heart fills with love and the cacophony in my mind stops. I miss you most at night but with my eyes closed I do not miss you anymore, because you are here with me as you will be in my dreams.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Truth Shall Make You Comfortable

I was initially excited when I was told about National Novel Writing Month. Sounds fun, I thought. I can dish out some words. 50,000?? No problem. Hell I tweet more than a porn bot. So I invested about 4-5 hours of time into the last three posts. See I can get some words out... that's the easy part. Guess what??? I had a problem. Seriously. Even before I sent this to a friend to have him look over it, I was thinking, this is just plain old crap. To my friend, I'm sorry I even wasted your time with that, but you dear sir are an inspiration. Thank you for being honest with me.

I tried justifying it in my head... this is about quantity not quality. It's crap, my little voice screamed at me. How can you possibly submit anything like that to anyone, even for shits and giggles??

I can't. I know this competition is really great and important for some people and I have a couple of friends who have decided to challenge themselves. One in particular is really rocking it out. Cool deal.

Me, I have gone back to the drawing board to mix it up again and give a full hearted effort into writing a novel. I feel more in my place now taking this path. I've also learned a lesson in all this... in writing, life, sex whatever you do, be you and do what feels right in your heart. Don't be compelled to keep up with the Jones' just be you and the world (and yourself) will love you more for it. Write from the heart, not for the count.

Love,

Me :o)

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Chapter III - The Studious Duo

Paul and Chris stand outside the study door, guns drawn, ready to fire. “Go ahead, open the door.” Paul nods his head towards the closed door. “Uhh do I look like Mikey, willing to try anything? You open the door. I’ll cover you.” Chris states. “Besides I’m a better shot than you are old man.”

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.

Chapter II - Halls of Hell

Brothers Phillip and Pedro walk through the dim lighted stone hallways feeling the damp chill the walls seem to always hold this time of year. “I don’t know about you, but this whole mess has my hackles raised.” Phillip says to Pedro. “Yeah I’m feeling you here gringo. Who would be crazy enough to go down in the basement?? They must have a death wish. I only hope whoever it was that went down is the same thing that came up.”

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.”

Chapter I - Night Terrors

Night was settling over the monastery. Brothers Paul, Phillip, Chris and Pedro were on guard duty this night. Checking all the windows and doors on the ground floor and working their way up the levels as they planned. They did not want to be too far from anyone at any given time. They were the only four among them that had any military training at all, other than Father Marcus, but he was out of commission at the moment. The Brothers insisted on being a night watch team each evening, sleeping sporadically throughout the day. Lives were at stake. Luckily for them, a few of the men that had come to the church to seek sanctuary from the outside had brought weapons and ammunition. It still wasn’t enough to defend against any major attack.

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.