Saturday, October 16, 2010

Reflections of Beauty

I stand in front of a square of mirror each morning carefully applying the paint of an urban female warrior. This is what I do, this is what I am trained for. Each brush is skillfully used to embellish every facial feature to perfection. Swirling colors to blend so you cannot tell where one stops and one begins. My face a daily canvas to be remade to reflect sexy, charming, in control.

Golden strands of hair fall around my face in soft flowing waves. All in place designed to be stared at; to be touched.

Matching clothing flattering just the right curves of the body.. coordinated handbag and shoes with not a speck of dirt on them. Which sunglasses to wear, to tie a pretty bow on the package?

A quick look in the mirror to ensure all is right. Pretty girl staring back with empty eyes. I look away for fear of confronting the truth.

Inside a slow scream starts to form.. pushing it’s way up, wanting to be set free. Push it back down, it cannot escape, there is no time for dwelling on what should be.

Echos haunt my mind, “you’re such a pretty girl” ; “how can you be sad, you’re so pretty”; “you have it made, you're so pretty”; “we like being around you, YOU’RE SO…. PRETTY”

SHUT UP!! I cannot talk to you now, I have beauty to throw around, tell your lines to somebody else. They mean nothing to me.

Look into my lifeless eyes and tell me how pretty I am once you really see me. Tell me how pretty I am now that you know the truth, now that you see reflections of beauty in me.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Star Dust

She was once the patient one, always willing to wait. The one who always understood being left behind. She was once brave, standing in the face of fear and shouting in it's face to end it's injustices against those who cannot defend themselves. The one who can hide the hurt bestowed upon her in the most secret places, no one can find. Falsified, personified by appearances, she was the pretty one, an easy guise to feign. To all who knew her, she was a rock, seeming to stand solid and strong, while inside she crumbled as easily as a thin layer of shale. She would hand out smiles she could barely muster, hiding tears that wanted to fall.

In the dark of night alone, wondering what it's all for, she is weak. She knows she has failed herself, has lost her potential to be someone, because she chose to always help someone else. Now she is alone and scared. She is tired, age slowly stealing her youth, wasted energy sapped away by the selfish ones. A willing sacrifice, her light slowly fades like the setting sun. She has no one to blame but herself, for allowing to be set aside like a little doll , to be abused, to be unknown. As she was in death, she smiled as she surrendered to the end, the darkness come to engulf her soul.

A shining star, dimmed by the world, to dust she does return.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Grams' Last Wish

I've always hated hospitals. They're where people come to die.

So here I sit holding onto Grams' fragile hand. Her skin feels soft, but paper thin. I think to the future, when one day it will be my young plump hand that will be transformed into an aging, fraile stick of bones covered by the thin sheeting of flesh. I wonder if anyone will be holding my hand when my time comes?

I look around the plain room, beige walls, one single picture of sunflowers hanging so the person in the bed has a view. Poor Grams, I think to myself. This room is so dreary, no wonder it's easy to die here. At least she is in her room alone and won't have to share her death with a stranger.

"Can I get you anything Grams?" I ask of the old lady whom I have adored my whole life. Her hair has thinned, along with the rest of her. Her gray strands surround her face like a fine feather down. Face wrinkled from her 86 years of life. Her eyes are still bright and knowing though. I am again grateful she never lost her mind. Sure people may have said she was crazy, but I know she just wanted to lead them to believe that.

"No thank you, my dearest child. You took care of what I asked you?" Her voice is raspy and weak. I know her time is coming soon.

"Oh Grams, you know I would do anything you asked of me. Of course I took care of it. He should be here soon." I answer her. Grams and I have always been close. I am the only person in the family she trusts.

"You're a good girl sweety." She smiles at me, her green eyes twinkling. I have Grams' eyes, and have been told by everyone that I am indeed, her spitting image. I can't see how that can be. I've seen pictures of her when she was young. She was a stunner. Besides, my eyes don't twinkle like that. It always surprised me she was never married. Always amazed me that she managed to have a child out of wed lock in her date and time.

She managed to eek a living, and feed her only son, my father, by selling things she made. She educated him and managed to save enough money for him to go to college. When he was 18 he left her, alone in her little log cabin in the woods. It's no wonder the rumors about her were created. Grams is the evil old witch who eats children, according to town lore.

My father broke her heart when he left. He never visted except one time to show her me. I used to sneak out of the house at night beginning when I was 5, to go see her. No one ever knew. She told me they would keep me away.

Grams taught me to make all the little things she did. How to cast spells, and to chanel the dead. Yes Grams is a witch, but she does not eat children. She told me it is a special gift, passed only to the women in the family. I always kept our secret and never told anyone about what we did.

"So your father will come see me on my death bed then?" She asked me.

"Yes, Grams. He should be here anytime now."

"I hope he hurries. I can feel my time growing thin. What's keeping him?"

"I don't know Grams. Maybe he had to work late."

"That bitch of a wife of his is probably trying to stop him. She's like that, as you know. Controlling bitch!"

"Grams, don't get yourself all worked up. Besides, that bitch you're talking about is my mother. I know you don't like her. I don't even like her. I wish it were her lying here on this bed, not you! I don't want you to go, Grams."

"I know my dear. Just remember that Grams is never going to leave you." Her eyes twinkle at me again.

I smile back at her, and try to make it as happy looking as I can.

"I don't deserve your love, Sophia." Grams says to me.

"Stop that crazy talk, Grams. I love you and that's that!"


I notice the sun setting through the blind covered window and wonder where the hell my father is? Grams has nodded off again, and I can't help but wonder if she will wake up this time. Her breathing has grown very shallow and she looks very pale. I wish he'd hurry.

I get up from the hard chair I have been sitting in and start to go through the closet and drawers, gathering her things. I figure I might as well start collecting her personal items. I don't think she's going to make it through the night.

In the drawer beside her her bed I find a packaet of stationary and furrow my eyebrows. I don't recall seeing it before. Perhaps one of the nurses brought it in to her. There is one nurse here that has taken to Grams. She is from another country, Sweden I think, but can't quite remember her name. I look through the delicately designed papers and find a note written in Grams' hand. I know I shouldn't intrude, but my curiosity gets the better of me. The letter isn't addressed to anyone in particular, so I read:

I want to thank everyone in my life for keeping me going. I am grateful for all the time I got to spend with you, getting to know you and watch you grow. I am thankful for the gifts you have given me each year and the gift you will bestow upon me in death. I have only one regret.......

"Hmmm," I say outloud thinking perhaps this is a draft of a letter to someone as it seems incomplete, no heading and no closing. I shrug my shoulders and set the stationary back in the drawer and notice Grams looking at me with a sad look on her face.

"I'm sorry Grams. I didn't mean to be so nosy, I know this is your personal business."

Just then the door to the room opens and in walks my father.

"Hello Sophia, Mother." He says as he sets a vase of beautiful red roses on a table near the wall under the sunflower painting. Those are so much prettier to look at. I smile and greet my father with a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Gregory! You made it!" Grams says with such excitment in her voice.

Father strides across the room, leans his tall frame over Grams and kisses her forehead. "How are you, Mother?" He inquires, emphasising "Mother" and with a strange smile on his face. Perhaps he is just trying to be strong. Perhaps this is really bothering him more then he is letting on. I'lll have to talk to him later.

"My you have grown into a handsome man, let me look at you," she says, a big grin on her face.

I unzip my jacket as I start to feel a bit warm. I've had the heat on al day since Grams seems to stay cold all the time . The heat in the room is stiffling. Father looks over to me, a worried look crosses his face. "Are you alright Soph?? You don't look well."

"It's just hot in here. I guess it's hitting me now that I am up and about."

"Sit down sweety, I'll get you some water." He walks out the door.

Grams reaches the control on her bed and moves it to a sitting position. I can tell it is taking a lot of out of her to accomplish.

I start to get up, "Let me help you Grams."

"No, no hun. You just sit tight. Your father's right, you don't look too hot."

"Oh trust me, I am hot." I try joking. I can feel the beads of sweat falling from my hairline down the side of my face. My father walks back in with a cup of iced water in his hand and offers it to me.

"Thanks, Dad." I gulp at the water, the coolness winding it's way down my throat. It feels good. I hand the cup back to him and lean my head back on the chair. I feel very weird, like I am in that stage of sleeping when you aren't quite there and not quite awake. I swear I see my father bring some candles out of his briefcase and light them. How peculiar this dream is. I giggle a little. I hear voices chanting around me and feel something wet being put on my forehead. I can't seem to hear what is being said and don't know what is on my head, but it feels cool. I can't move. I hate dreams like this. Then I start to fall into a deep sleep, met by darkness.

I don't know how long I slept, but feel very groggy and weak upon opening my eyes. Everything is blurry for a minute then my eyes finally focus somewhat. I still can't quite manage to focus. I am staring at the picture of the sunflowers, and the vase of bright, blood red roses under it. I am confused. Am I sick??? After all, hospitals are where people come to die. They must have moved my chair.

Then I hear my voice asking me, "Grams, grams, are you okay?"

I shake my head and try to speak, but my mouth won't work. I can barely breath. I turn my head and see me staring back at me. God, I've got to wake up!! This is freaky!! My father walks up behind the me I am looking at and leans down and kisses my neck, only it is not my neck any longer is it? This just keeps getting creepier and creepier. And ewww on my dad hitting on me.

I feel a warm hand on what is now my own and look into eyes that are mine, but not mine. My eyes don't twinkle like that. I realize this is no dream. "My only regret, love," I have visions of the letter written on the pretty stationary, "is that it had to be you. I am sorry for this, but you see, I had to find a way to be with your father again. Gregory and I have been in love since we were young and we found a way to be with each other forever. A soul for a soul and you are my sacrifice."

Panic engulfs my mind as it gets harder and harder to breathe. The door opens again and in walks the Swedish nurse. "Is it done?" She asks in her heavy accent.

Gregory steps forward and stares into my eyes, "It is done." He is smiling as I feel my last breath slip away from me, then all is dark again.

Shadowed Dreams

I close my eyes and think of you, smiling in the moonlight. We've known each other all our lives but have never met. Souls collide towards one union, forever in Love's embrace. I feel you near me, can smell your primal scent. I feel your lips at my ear, whispering promises of pleasure and release. My body quivers at your touch and I am under your command. Fingertips glide through my hair as you press your lips to the back of my neck, soft and warm. I cannot find the will to fight you, my desire burns. I am under your spell, pliable to your every whim. I try to pull away, but you will not allow this show of rebellion and firmly pull me back to you. Pinned against your body, I am once again contained. Flashes of lightening streak across the sky, I feel the electricity sizzle in the air, heightening my arousal. I gasp for breath as your hands transverse my body. I am unable to contain the energy flowing through me as I turn to press my lips to yours. I reach for you but there is nothing. I slowly open my eyes to the early morning light, my heart aching for you, longing to be near you again. Tonight my love, we shall meet again in the dream scape that is our secret place.

Friday, September 17, 2010

KITTY CATS ON THE PROWL

















Little black cats, when the moon is full
Creeping through the darkness
Looking for their souls

Fur shining bright, on a full-moon eve
Lurking in the shadow
Looking for reprieve

Muddy little paw prints, leading up your walk
Right up to your front door
You didn't hear them knock?

Little black cats, sneaking through your dwelling
You can hear them closing in
There is no reason yelling

Claws tippy tapping, all across the floor
As soon as they can catch you
Your soul will be no more

They'll find you in your closet or underneath your bed
The covers cannot save you
You're as good as dead

They're scrambling much faster, scenting on their meal
Target dead in their sight
Tracking on your heel

Frantic racing all around, trying to get away
The kitty cats are coming
And they want to play

You are now encircled, feline beasts surround
Moving in to steal your soul
They bring you to the ground

Final screams are never heard, by neighbors in your know
One kitty cat has eaten
One hundred more to go

Kiss the Bride




It had finally arrived: the day every girl dreams of. Beautiful dresses, dancing, marrying the man of her dreams. Here I sit in my exquisitely decorated room ,compliant to my handmaids perfecting my hair, weaving fresh jasmine in my curls. The scent is intoxicating, I feel light headed. I am fitted into a white, gauzy flowing gown, making me feel vulnerable and erotic. I do not know who it is I am to marry, I've never met the man. My handmaids all wear the same expression of sorrow that reflects my own. I can't help but wonder if they know something about this man and are keeping some secret hidden from me. Perhaps he is cruel, or wicked. Whatever he may be, I am to be his bride on this night. I have no choice.


From the open window, I can hear the cries of the wind sweeping across the fissured limestone of The Burren, a lifeless tract of land that lies at the foot of the Cliffs of Moher. Echos from the cliffs scream out into the night, warning of the danger should one try to climb this time of year. The sound is haunting and frightening. Stories of wild, shape shifting beasts eating men alive are passed down to keep children from wandering to that barren wasteland. They are just stories, I tell myself as I shiver, from the damp cold or fear, I do not know. Something seems amiss, no one will talk to me. My thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door, it is my guard, Gavin. He has come to collect me and escort me to my wedding place. Hesitantly, I rise from my chair feeling a deep abyss form within me. I do not want this night, I do not want to be given to a complete stranger. I open the door to see Gavin's face looking down on me, a deep sadness in his eyes. I lightly touch his hand and smile. This is the man I would rather be bedding tonight as wife. This man with hair as black as coal and eyes bluer than ice. He is my secret love.


As we begin the decent down the castle steps, I begin to shake. I feel hungry, perhaps I should have eaten earlier, at least a wedding means a feast. Gavin takes me gently by the arm and continues to show me through the castle and out into the cold, dark night. I walk bare footed along the dirt path feeling bits of stone and patches of cool grass beneath my feet. Through town, the people await my arrival, lining the streets for this exalted event. As we pass, the crowd grows behind us. I look up as we walk the gauntlet, seeing the dour faces of my people. I glance briefly at Gavin, looking for comfort, before turning my eyes back to the dirt. I want to run, right now. I could hide in the cliffs, surely the legends aren't real. I could survive. His hand grips my arm a bit tighter as if he can read my thoughts of escape.


At last we reach the site. Gray, stone pillars reach towards the sky, torches are lit, shedding spectral light upon the scene. Bouquets of fresh, scarlet roses and white baby's breath adorn every surface. A wintry breeze numbs me. It is alluring and majestic. I see my father standing off to the right, adorned in his best velvets and silks, he smiles sadly at me. I return his smile and start my hesitant walk to the altar, where my groom awaits my arrival. To my surprise he is handsome. Tall, elegant, with dark hair, green eyes- how lovely he is indeed.


My apprehension is dissolved, I am looking forward to having this man who stares at me with large eyes. Hot feelings flash from my inner core, making me forget the cold, as I approach the altar and kneel. The priest begins his ritual words binding this delicious man to me. I can smell the scrumptious aroma of tonight's feast being prepared, my stomach growls, my mouth waters. At last the priest finishes his solemn words to us, we are bound forever.

I get up and lean to my new prince for our first passionate kiss. He struggles against the chains binding him to the altar and screams as I climb atop his writhing body and plunge my elongated fangs into his flesh. He thrashes against me, as a lover in the deep throes of passion as I drain his life's blood from him. I am famished and do not take my time with him. Quickly he grows silent and lifeless in my arms.

I feel a strong hand on my back, letting me know the deed is done. Gavin assists me in getting down from the altar. Smiling, he wipes the remnants of tonight's feast from my mouth before pressing his lips to mine. Smiling in return, I kiss him back, thinking to myself, mmmm dessert!!

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Stranger Danger

She blushed like a school girl the first time she saw him as they passed in the crowded street. He was so handsome, how could God have made a man so beautiful. Tall, lean with short cut hair, and oh those green eyes that seemed to glow. Green eyes were always her favorite.

He smiled a crooked smile when he noticed her looking at him. She turned her head downward, looking to the sidewalk under her feet; a huge smile played across her lovely face. Oh shit, did he see how red I am, as if I've never seen a man before. Geez Louise, you're such an idiot. She scolded herself.

He did notice her. He noticed her long, silky looking blonde hair, styled so it fell freely around her shoulders. He noticed the large, bright, blue eyes that jumped out from her lovely face, and of course he noticed her large breasts. She tried to cover them, and succeeded in only enhancing the curvaceousness of her chest. A girl simply cannot hide breasts like that no matter what she wears. What caught his attention the most was how bashful she became when he smiled at her. He was used to having women look at him, but seldom do they react so innocently to his looks. He had to get to know this lovely woman. He glanced at his watch, checking the time and committing it to memory so he could try to pass her by again the next morning. Hopefully this was a regular route for her morning commute. He'd have to come on gently with her, obviously. She isn't like most of the other women, who like it brazen and bold. As he walked on he contemplated how he would meet the blonde.

Her work day went by as usual with Mr. Saggysac (her name for her flirtatious, old, wrinkly boss) harassing her. Dropping papers so he could watch her pick them up. She always thought it would be funny to bring in one of those poky sticks they use in the park to clean up trash. That would teach him. By the end of the workday, she was ready to be home. She gathered her bag and her umbrella as it was forecast to rain in the afternoon and began her venture home.

Upon walking out of the mirrored high rise where she works she was greeted with clashes of thunder and a bright flash of lightning bolting across the sky. She sighed deep and looked down at her shoes. I forgot my damn sneakers again, and I can't let these babies get ruined. She managed to kick off her shoes and get them tucked safely away in her bag just as the first drops began to fall from the sky. In her rush, she did not noticed the man standing at the end of the building entrance and ran right into him, he umbrella prongs poking him in the face.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" he exclaimed as he fought off the attacking beast. "I'm so clumsy, I'm so so sorry. Are you okay?"

Finally wrestling the umbrella from his face, he looked down at the little blonde before him. Laughing to himself at her bare feet and the fact that she barely stood as high as his chest. "It's okay, I'm fine," he said casually.

"I'm so embarr," she started to say as she looked up at him, her breath hitching in her chest. OMG, it's him! And you nearly poked his eyes out, gahhh how dumb can you be? "Geez, I wasn't watching where I was going, I can't apologize enough. I'm so glad I didn't poke out your eyes!" she exclaimed.

"Really, no worries here. So anyways, I'm glad I ran into you. I know this sounds nuts, but I noticed you this morning, and I was just going to wait until morning and try to see you then, but I thought I'd just go out on a limb here. Okay, now I am the embarrassed one, but I saw you, and thought you were so pretty, and well I was hoping you might let me have you over for dinner, maybe see if we get along? Corny, I know, but I don't get out much and I thought I'd just take a chance."

She was stunned and could only stammer out a few "uhs" as her brain swirled and she felt the excitement of going out with him.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot. I don't go out to bars, and well like I said, I hadn't been out in a while, so umm never mind, okay. Just pretend this whole moment never happened." He started to turn and walk away.

"No, wait!" she called after him, "No, don't be embarrassed. I was just a bit shocked. I don't get out much either, obviously. So you know what? If you're taking a chance on me, I'll take a chance on you and say yes. I'd love to have dinner with you. When would you like to?"

The sky broke open at that very moment, beginning to drench them both. He grabbed her umbrella and raised above them and placed his hand on her back and led her to the shelter of the building outcrop. They both laughed at the situation. Damn, he's even more handsome when he laughs, she thought to herself.

"I'll call a car for us," he said as he pulled his blackberry out of his pocket. "The car will be here in a few minutes. Why don't we just do this dinner thing tonight? We can run by your place so you can change, then on to my place. I have a fantastic chef."

All of her mother's warnings shot through her head; "Don't get into cars with strangers." "Don't talk to strangers." "Don't bring strangers home and let them know where you live." But Mama, how's a girl supposed to meet anyone if I do those things? She chided herself. Besides she was taking a chance here. He was cute. She glanced up at his stunningly handsome face and smiled, "Sure, that sounds good."

He smiled back at her, a twinkle in his eye.

The car pulled up, again she was surprised by him, as it was a long black stretch limousine. Geez, Louise, don't act like a girl from the boondocks here. Just pretend it's no big deal. What would he think if he knew your roots. But who'd have thunk it, the girl from the swamps, is now riding in a limo. Hahaha, everyone back home would be so jealous, especially Ida Mae.

The driver got out, and opened the rear door for them. Once again he placed his rather large hand at the small of her back and ushered her to the car while holding her umbrella over their heads. He handed it to the chauffeur as he entered the car behind her, smiling as he got a good look at her ass bent in front of him. He knew then she was not accustomed to being driven in a luxury car. Any lady knows you slide in, so as not to show what you don't want seen.

"First time in a limo?" He inquired.

"Umm, yes, how'd you know?"

"From the nice view you gave me when we got in," he said with a grin.

Then he laughed when she turned bright red. It was quite an attractive look on her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel awkward, but really, you have a very nice"

"Don't you even say it to me!" She interrupted, "I have to listen to Mr. Saggysac say things like that to me all day long, and I won't listen to it from you, Mister!" She said sternly, as she pointed a finger in his face. Oh God, please don't let him be another butt crater.

"Yes, Maam," he replied, a smirk still on his face. He reaches out a takes a lock of her hair between his fingers, enjoying the silky feel of it, he leans in and sniffs it. "Mmm you're hair smells good. Why don't we just head to my place? You can wear some of my clothes. It's already 7:30 and really I'm quite famished." He asked casually.

"This is just weird, maybe you should just bring me home and let's forget about dinner. Maybe do it another night when we can plan. This is crazy. I'm barefooted and soaked, I imagine I look a fright, and well you looked at my ass and didn't hide it. Your looking, not my ass. What kind of man admits to those things?" She said.

"I suppose I am coming off a bit strong. I'm really not used to women like you. Most of the women I have known have been hard and tough. Part of what appealed to me about you was how you blushed when I smiled at you. I thought, this is a nice girl. But maybe you're right, what am I going to do with a nice girl anyways?"

I can't believe this stupid line is working on me. Okay so what's the worst that happens, huh? You go to his place, eat something, hell girl, have some sex for a change. It's normal, and who could blame you for doing that? She sighs in resignation, "Fine, we'll go to your place and I'll dress up in your over sized Godzilla clothes."

"That's better," He says as he reaches for the bar and pours up a couple of Scotches and hands one of the crystal highballs to her.

Great, Mr. Pretty is a giant ass crater she thinks, a feeling of disappointment washing over her. But hey, perk up sister, at least you can have sex with a hot guy if you want. Pssshh he's probably too self involved for it to even be worth it. One day a man will come along who knows how to treat a lady, and know how to do a lady right.

They arrive at his penthouse apartment, no surprise there. His butler shows her to a guest room and hands her some dry clothes to put on. "I'll be taking my leave now, Miss, so if you need anything else, please enquire of the master." He bows as he makes his retreat out the door. She strips off her wet clothes and stands naked in the middle of the room. She knows she is just here for this one night, he hasn't even asked her name. He expects you to be his whore for the evening. You aren't anything more to him than that. Why even bother putting any other clothes on?

She walks out of the bedroom completely nude, winds her way down the hallway and into the living room. It's a very boring room, all white; white carpet, white furniture,with a glass wall over looking the city skyline. He raises his eyebrow as she enters, "We both know what this is about, so why bother pretending?" She says flatly. "So fuck dinner, and let's get this over with."

He growls in the back of his throat as he begins unbuttoning his shirt, "I like a woman who gets right to the point," He says. She walks over and grabs both sides of his expensive button up shirt and rips it open, sending the buttons flying helter skelter. He smiles. She continues to work his belt off, and undoing the buttons on his slacks, and lets them fall to the floor around his ankles. He's already kicked off his shoes and socks. His breathing increases and his excitement is quite visible at her actions. Heat begins to radiate off his bare skin, a hotness she has never felt off another human. His breathing gets faster and faster, like a panting dog. A shiver works it's way through her. Her breathing is beginning to keep pace with his. The excitement is thick in the air.

Lightning flashes across the sky, striking something on top of the building next door. Sparks fly, a beautiful display of fireworks, just for them, then all of the lights go out, leaving them both in the pitch black of the night.

His fingers run gently through her hair, then grab it firmly. He pulls her head back and places his lips over hers, kissing her hotly, his tongue forcing it's way between her teeth. She relaxes in his embrace and allows her natural feelings to wash over her. He growls in her ear, she can feel his form under her hands begin to move. The muscles growing taunt, a hardness over taking him. She feels the change, the silky fur entwining in her fingers and then she knows. Her screams are cut short by his sharp canines tearing into her throat. Flashes of the evening going through her head, his leering smile, his doggish ways, how he said he wanted to have her for dinner, and that he was famished. She should have listened to Mama's warning about strangers. She should have remembered about stranger danger.










Sunday, August 15, 2010

Summer Rain

Summer Rain

It's not the warmth or rays of sun that bring me joyous glee

It's the summer rain we had that day beneath the big oak tree

The day we ran through puddles of rain that caught us unaware

The way you looked at me as your fingertips brushed my hair

Your hand upon my cooling cheek, the love I felt inside

The way you kissed me on my lips; I thought that I would die

You may not comprehend, my love, my breath you took away

And in my ever beating heart, forever you will stay

A simple kiss that will always shine brighter than any sunny day

So have your joy of summertime, for me it shall remain

My kiss beneath the big oak tree amidst the summer rain

Saturday, August 14, 2010

The Dying Ward

"Another damn nightshift," nurse Linda bitched as she ran across the parking lot in the rain to the hospital entrance. "And you couldn't remember your stupid umbrella either," she scolded herself.



The automatic doors swooshed open as she approached and Lars, the security guard looked up, surprised to see her. "I thought you had the night off?" He asked as she signed the security register.



"Oh I did, but Brigitte called in again at the last moment, so here I am." Linda stated with distain in her voice. Brigitte has been calling in a lot lately and Linda always covers. "One of these days I will tell her no."



Lars laughs, "Yeah right that'll be the day when you turn down helping someone."



Linda rolls her eyes and smiles at Lar, "Have a good night, Lars." She hustles down the long hallways to the elevator to take her up to the 2nd floor ward where she will be on duty.



She steps onto the floor and notices the three other nurses crowded around the desk talking in hushed tones. "What's going on?" she inquires with a smirk on her face.



Hildy looks to her and says, "We have a new patient in 207 who refuses to eat. He keeps jabbering on in a language none of us knows so we don't know what he wants or what he is asking. It's just odd."



Nurse Linda sets her handbag down on the floor by the desk, "Well what was he brought in for? Obviously he is terminal if he is on our floor. What do the doctors say?"



"According to his chart, he came into the ER early this morning, almost comatose, covered in blood. His wounds were centralized to his torso area and were treated and sewed up. It's strange though, I don't see the orders for him to be transfered here, nor does it say what his condition is. The orderlies brought him up at about 5ish and left without saying a word. And I can't seem to make out this doctor's signature. I don't know who is assigned to him. How weird." Hildy says as she reads the strangers chart.



"Well hell, we can't call records right now, they are closed. Maybe someone will be here in the morning that can help. I don't know what else we can do right now but look after him until we figure this all out," Linda replies, a smirk still on her face.



Linda picks her bag up, bringing it into the locker area so she can lock it up. No one notices the item she takes out of her purse and hangs around her neck. Glancing over her shoulder, she closes the locker door and sets the combination.



She walks back to the desk and picks up her cheart assignments, wouldn't you know, she has the new guy. Great, I'll just go see about him first before seeing to my other patients, she thinsk to herself.



Approcahing the door to 207 she can't help but notice the lights out at the end of the hallway, making the doorway to 207 very dim. She glances in and sees a form writhing on the bed, soft moans coming from his mouth. She stands a moment longer, watching as a chill creeps it's way along her spine. Something inside her telling her to stay away, she shakes her head laughing at herself and proceeds into the room. The man in the bed stops moving and opens his eyes staring at her. Linda looks to the man and is stunned, it seems as if his eyes are glowing in his almost cadaver like face.



"Don't worry, Mister. We're going to take good care of you." Linda says to the man, knowing he can't understand her.



He mutters something back to her she cannot comprehend, but she can hear the pleading in his voice. She reaches out and touches the man's hand, shocked by the coldness radiating off of him, but ignoring it as her job is to offer comfort to the dying.



She has learned to overlook some of the gross things that happen to the body in death. Has learned to look into the persons soul, rather than the shell that surrounds them. She digs in deep with this one, for he seems soulless. Squinting her eyes she says, "You've been an evil bastard, haven't you? I know your kind, but I will help make your transition easy for you. It may hurt, but you'll see, once the pain is gone, you will be in a better place." She pats the man's hand and smiles at him.



"So why haven't you eaten? You are refusing nourishment, this is not good. I will have to get you to eat something." She reaches for the green jello sitting next to the bed and digs a spoon in. The man's face scowls as the sppon nears his mouth and he turns his head away. "You really need to eat if you can. It will help."



The strange man turns his head back to her and hisses. Linda jumps back, "Fine, if that's how you're going to be you can starve for all I care." She sets the jello back down on the table, housekeeping can clean it up.



"I have to go see my other patients now, I will be back shortly." Linda walks out of the dimly lit room and down the hall, making rounds on her other patients.



Linda has grown accustomed to seeing the ill in their last stages of death. It's even come to not bother her like it used to. She has a better appreciation of death working here, a better understanding of the different ways to die.



A loud screaming comes from the hall as Linda is checking the temperature on an old lady on her last stages of cancer. She runs out into the hall and sees Brenda running from the opposite way. "What's happening?" Brenda asks.



"I don't know, I think it's the strange one," Linda replies as the screaming continues.



She and Brenda run into the man's room and see him on the floor, writhing in pain, screaming. Neither nurse can make out his words, a language that seems archaiac and unintelligable. Both nurses begin their check down on the man, to look for injury as he obviously fell out of the bed.



"He seems fine to me," Brenda announces.



"No injury here, " Linda says, "But he has not eaten, he must be delusional, his body starving for nourishment."



"Help me get him back into the bed," Linda orders Brenda.



The two ladies work together to get the strange screaming man back into his bed. "What the hell is so funny, Linda?" Brenda says.



"Oh nothing, I just realized something. I think I know what is wrong with him."



"Well what?? Do whatever to shut the guy up, this is crazy!" says Brenda



"Okay" says Linda as she reaches across the bed and grabs a handful of Brenda's hair pulling her down across the bed. Brenda strugles, but only for a moment, as Linda takes out the small dagger she keeps hung around her neck and jabs Brenda in the windpipe.



"She's all yours, love." Linda says smiling at the man as he sinks his elongated teeth into Brenda's neck. It doesn't take long for the vital essence to fill the man, his features transforming back into the young handsome man he is.



He tosses Brenda's body aside as he rises out the bed and approaches Linda. She doesn't move, she is not afraid of this man, is familiar with him. "I wondered what the hell happened to you. You hadn't shown up in months, I thought you were dead, you idiot. Now get the hell out of here before someone sees."



He leans in and kisses Nurse Linda passionately then turns and takes his leave through the window. Linda smiles her evil smile, then starts screaming, "Oh My God!! Someone get in here!! Brenda is dead!! He attacked Brenda!!!" .......











Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Visiting David

I was asked by my friend David to guest post for him this week down at The Writer's Den. He asked the big question, "Why do you love books?"

I couldn't pass up the opportunity to answer, as reading and writing feel like a basic raw need for me....and it seems I'm not the only one.

So follow me over to

The Writer's Den

and find out why I, @ggSpirit , @Donna_Carrick , @JosephLane and @TheWritersDen himself love these bound pages so much...

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

An Addicted Mind

spiraling twirls of color rein down through his brain
red, blues, greens conjoin and entwine
weaving threads of thoughts and dreams
the line is clearly blurred
wells of feelings drift to the surface
marring perfect ideas of fantasies
reality shifts to the world around
in death it's perfect entirety
surely this must be madness
this hope, this love, this world
so much death and violence
so much pain and suffering
it can go away easily, simply, just swallow
the hopelessness the loss is just too much to bear
it's gone, it's all gone now
the colors drowned by shadows
He is drowning and cannot see the light
it's okay, no it's not, just one more
the calm caresses the soul
he's here, he's gone and cannot find himself
an empty shell with incoherent thought
follow the path of emptiness, it's safe there
no one will know, no one will care
no one will see to the real him, no one but me