The Bell Tolls

Glass shatters
Beneath the waves
The mountains crackle and call your name
 A silent mourning beneath the sea
A siren's song it carried me

An observer nothing more
Darkness descends
Velvet shores
Touch my hand
Dry my eyes
Count the stars
Amidst the lies
Sprinkling dust between the trees
The earth trembles
On repentant knees.

Whispers

Whispers in the brain. Statics of electricity bursting forth. Giving birth to inspiration. Then vanishing into the night. Disappearing with no trace. Leaving you unable to recall from where or how or why. Unable to retrieve or recreate a moment. Lost in darkness. Shrouded by doubt and fear. Consumed. 

Until a spark releases you from its grasp. Then you run as far as you can before it reaches back out with its tendrils and drags you back into the darkness. Surrounding you. Suffocating. 

Alone. 

Whispers. Doubts. Sorrows. Fears. All consuming. All encompassing. Disorienting. Spinning faster. Becoming lost in the vacuum. Awake with unseeing eyes into a past before the future of now. Blind. Stumbling. Pulling. Higher or lower unable to know for sure. Right or wrong. Back or forward. Up or down. They are the same. Onward. What other choice do you have?

Fragrance of Innocence

So I've been watching DEM play this game for awhile now and since she's cool and all dat so I decided to play along. It seemed like fun. Here are the Trifecta rules:

Your task this week, should you choose to accept it, is to write a love scene in no fewer than 33 and no more than 333 words. 

~~~~~~~~~~

He felt her without opening his eyes. Her fragrance filled the room and he breathed her scent deeply into his lungs. He liked the way it filled him with her from inside to out. Her sheer robe brushed his cheek as she walked by, but he didn’t dare open his eyes. He could feel her watching him. Her eyes boring into his soul as if she were attempting to read the thoughts that drifted through his inner being. He shifted, feigning sleep. “Would this be the night?”

She’d been coming into his room for the last three weeks. Every night her scent taunted him, but she never allowed him more than a single breath before vanishing. Her scent came stronger, closer. He could feel her breath upon his neck. To be chosen, was all he wanted.  He’d done his research carefully before entering the Coven. He knew why she’d cast aside every chosen before him. He made sure not to repeat the same mistakes. It seemed his plan to gain the Queen’s attention was working. He just had to be patient for a little while longer. He nearly opened his eyes when he felt her nails outlining the perfectly curved stomach he had spent months working to achieve. As her nails continued tracing his body, he almost forgot why he was there. He could have taken her then, but that would have been no fun. “Patience, just a little while longer then I’ll be her Chosen, and then I’ll take revenge for the death of my sister.”

Her scent disappeared. He’d passed her test once again.  He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. How could something so bitter smell so innocent? He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep; knowing soon his bed would not be empty but filled with the Queen and her blood.

UnWording

I just realized how long it's been since I wrote here. Sometimes the days blend together into one big blob and I forget they're really individual entities. Moving along through the universe, pulling me along with them. Then it suddenly  stops and I jolt forward, awkward into the silence of tomorrow.

Soldiers

I wonder 

if I tugged and pulled 

would they come

words

sounds

syllables

pulled taut between lines, periods and dashes. 

Good little solider lads lined up in a row. Knock one down where will they go,

to a land of not forgotten, a land beneath the sea, a land of long and yesteryear unseen to you and me. 

So I stretch and turn and twist and tug and force them to be. Into their tiny mirror land tucked tight in between dominoes and marigolds and fishermen by the sea. I tried to convince them it was much more fun to be free, but the words they are a fickle bunch for it is with their ears they see. A world of shining sparkles a world unknown to me so I sit in silent shadows and watch them take form. Dancing to their master's tune like good little soldier boys. 

Scrivener

Hear the wind call
Hear its gentle breeze
Hear the sorrows cry
Scattered forgotten seeds

Endless words written
Lines upon lines
Long now forgotten
Rhyme within rhyme

In the nothingness
that once existed when
I drop a bit of ink
and close my mind til then


A scrivener I'm not
Nor shall I ever be
A wanton wayward soul
Trapped betwixt and between

Litotes

Words
Jumbled letters locked in place
Frozen in time
I wonder
Do they get bored
Standing there all lined up
Like good little boys and girls
Do they ever wish they could whirl and twirl and spin
Do they ever try to waltz or zag or zip
When no one's looking
Always expected to perform on command
No deviations no exceptions
Straight lines without chaos or vacuums or jabberwockeys
Always neat rows untouched
untainted
unscarred
Words
Jumbled crows amidst the cornfield
Scattered by a pen
Tied tight against the scarecrow's chest
Ink stained rows pressed against the page
And then the Wiz goes flying by.

While He Sleeps

I whisper to the darkness
Encompassing me
Devouring me
Cheeks wet
from silent tears
Unseen
Unheard
he doesn't know
I hide from him
My fears
My pain
My worries
I don't want him to see
The real me
The me I hide
But when he sleeps
Out I come
For a moment
Inhale
Exhale
I breathe the saltiness of the tears
For just a moment
Then back into the darkness
Before he wakes
Before he sees
Before he knows
I hide the me
That bleeds

Scribbles

Lost innocence
Broken by tomorrows
Of what were and never will be
Fading into nothingness
Discarded
Probing eyes
Unwanted
Touching waiting wanting
Alone
Silent cries escape
Bound by time
Erased
Evaporated
Longing for time
to stop
Disappearing into emptiness
Shattered broken glass
Shadows appear and retreat
Hiding behind veils
Screaming unheard sounds
Broken
Unhuman

Human Repellant

Silently I watch the world pass before me. A silent observer of humanity, watching as its participants interact in a play I don't seem to be a part of. There are times they call me forth and I  get hopeful. Hopeful that this time I'll remain, but it never is to be. Only for a short while am I allowed into their inner sanctum. To be tossed out once again. Never knowing what it is about me that causes them to run away. Why I seem to have to hold onto them so tightly, until my grip fails me and they slip free. 

It always happens. The one certainty that exists in the ever changing chaos that is my world.

At first I feel sorrow. A deep ache within me longing to be wanted. Longing to be a part of something. Anything. Longing to feel remembered, but a reality it shall never be. I shall spend eternity in the land of in between. A shadowy figure lurking at the edges of humanity. Unwanted. Unnoticed. Discarded.

Innocence Misunderstood

Jigger came home for a little while this morning and then left again to go to the funeral. While he was here I was asking him what had happened. If his friend had been sick and things like that. He was telling me all about it. Then he was telling me about his friend's 5 year old daughter.

He said she was so excited to have so many people there. All of her family and friends. She was running around playing and kept asking "why you so sad" to her mom and uncles. He said for him that was the hardest part. Watching her and her complete unknowing that her father won't be home from work tonight or ever again. He said he felt so heart broken for her because now she is so happy but soon her world is going to change and she won't even understand why.

I could see so much of myself in that little girl. I could see her future. Her emptiness. The hole that will grow inside of her as she grows and she won't even understand why the hole is there. But she'll know it's there. She'll try to fill it with odds and ends that don't quite properly fit, but no matter what she does that hole will remain. Until either she surrenders and accepts it as a part of her or it consumes her and she disappears inside of it.

There is also a two year old who'll grow up never knowing what an amazing father he had. Never knowing that which he lost. It seems such a waste. Three young children fatherless. One minute he was totally fine and the next erased. 

Jigger was going to help him in his business. Some advertising and things for him, but now that'll forever remain unfinished. It's strange how yesterday the world was one color but today it is another. Spinning and turning on while we sit. Helplessly being tossed about where it sees fit. Passengers on an unwanted journey. Stopping at destinations that are not our own. I'm ready to get off now. 

This is my stop.

Another Day Ended

Deep breaths. Slow to inhale. Allowing my lungs to expand until they almost burst. Then slowly releasing the air from its confinement. I listen to the  sound my breath makes as it enters and exits my body. Repetitive. Consistent. In. Out. If only people were that simple. If only I could understand what it is they want and give it to them. If only I knew what I was suppose to be/do/become. 

I hate asking for help. That's not really true. I hate NEEDING help. I hate the feeling that I cannot do something without HAVING  to ask someone to help me. At the moment, I need a lot of help. I hate asking. I hate needing. I hate that feeling of dependency. Of being dependent on another. Because people are undependable. People are not to be relied upon. They let you down. It's easier to do by myself for myself. Except now I'm too far in. I can't get out. I have to depend on others. I have to wait for them to let me down. 

I worry when I need to ask others for help. People have limits. They only help you when they get  something in return, but when you have nothing to give in return, then no one wants to help you. The minute you no longer benefit them you're forgotten. Tossed aside. Unwanted. Discarded. Replaceable. 

This is why I don't ask others for help. This is why I don't want to NEED help from others. Others disappoint you. I learned this from my mother. A woman I could not depend on to protect me when I needed protection. To support me when I needed encouragement. To hold my hand when I needed a friend. She  taught me people are unreliable. They break their word. They remember you when they want something and forget you when they don't. She taught me people cannot be trusted.  

What's funny though is that I've come so far in my life even though I have so little because of the lessons taught to me by my mother. When you have nothing, you do one of two things. Surrender or fight. I've been fighting for 34 years. I'm ready for the bell to ring. I'm ready to take a break from fighting. There has to be more. Something invisible. Hiding in the crevices. Just beyond my reach. There just has to be. I guess that is why I'm crazy because I believe in things I've never seen, never touched, never known. I believe they exist and I search for them. I throw away that which is in front of for that which may or may not actually be. 

I hate myself for the person I am becoming. A whiny, complaining, needy female. I hate those females. With a fervor that I cannot put into words. I don't want to be the person I see myself becoming. I fight hard against it but the harder I fight the more I become that which I fight against. I don't want to be needy. I don't want to be whiny. I don't want to be the person I am. But I don't know how to change the reflection in the mirror. Some days I wonder what lies beneath my skin. If I peeled it off, would I find that which I seek? Is that where the magical world between fight and surrender is? Beneath the layers of my skin. 

My fingers ache.  My bones ache. My eyes sore from the continuous overflow. My soul aches. A pain so deep that it rocks my core. An ache that I want to cut from my chest. To rip it out and stomp on it. To make it cease to exist. To scream at it. To unleash the wrath that is bottled inside of me upon it. To take vengeance for all the wrongs. To feel I deserving of vengeance. To understand the purpose of being here. 

What was the purpose of my creation? To be a toy for a father whose hands roamed in places no father's hands should have. To be forgotten by a mother whose only concern was getting fucked. To be broken by a husband who took pleasure in pain. To be tossed aside. Discarded when the new wore off. Understanding. Maybe that is what is hiding in the crevices. Deep within. Just beyond my reach. 

Understanding and purpose. Time to inhale.

Playful Verbiage

The bells rang. 

A ray of sound piercing the silence.

A sigh escaped the forgotten one. 
Frightened and  frail she waits.

Patiently.

Smash 365: Wordplay

Cast Away

Alone
Tossed aside amidst the darkened ruins
Silence fills the air
Air that hangs heavy choking the breath
Suffocating the lungs
Noise and chaos surround
Yet alone she remains
Unseen, unnoticed, unheard
A silent voice screaming
Meaningless words that no one hears

Why does she torture herself this way
Why not flee from the silence
Fast and far
Run
Yet amidst the silent darkness she remains

From the corner I watch her
Sitting, silently
Longing to break free of the chains tied tightly to her
Binding her in place
Even though she has the power to break them
She remains
Silently bound

Ignored, alone unheard
I watch and wait
Her every move enchants me
She is strong but appears weak
She allows herself to be ravaged
The others taunt her "weakness"
They do not see her strength
They do not see she could break them
It is only her will that stops her
Not their hold

I dare not breathe
For fear of breaking the silence
Slowly I make my way towards her

Suddenly she sees me
and I freeze
Uncertainty and doubt flow through me

She pretends to not see me
Encouraging me to come
Beckoning me like the siren that she is
A willing slave I continue towards her
Like a mother welcoming a lost child
She envelops me
Taking me inside of her
She allows me to roam freely

Not wanting to miss the opportunity
I eagerly search from within
The silence moving to accomodate my presence
Incorporating me into it
A living entity

Time ceased to exist inside of her
Patiently she allowed me to roam within
Smiling at my amusement
I searched every crevice
Caressing its smoothness
Until it consumed me
and I ceased to exist
and there was only she

No Words Needed

in the face of 

or having 

after experiencing

and being able to see the 

hidden amongst

or simply feeling

because underneath 

Folks Crazier Than Me

So the other day I was feeling all whispery and shit and sent some stuff to Indie Ink and what do you know they published it. So if you didn't read it before go read it again before they realize what a crazy ass idea it was and come back to their senses.

Different Parts of Me

* stupid blogger was scheduled to post this yesterday and didn't although I don't know why I am surprised it's not as if blogger does anything that I actually want it to anyways.

Different Parts of Me

A part of me wants to RUN AWAY...
to hide from all that is and all that will be
to forget that any and all things exist
to just disappear

A part of me wants to REMAIN...
safe in the comfort of now
sure in the uncertainty of tomorrow
lost in the space that is between

A part of me HIDES...
whenever you exhale
when the world becomes dark
when the light ceases to radiate

A part of me DIES..
with each unfulfilled breath
with each moment of could be that isn't and never will be
with each moon passing

A part of me is SILENT...
whispering only to itself
songs of nothingness, emptiness
longings and dreams unexperienced untouched

A part of me SCREAMS...
to unhearing ears
unbelieving words strung together
ceaselessly in unison they deny

A part of me wants to curl inside of you..
to become you....
to be lost in the expanse that is you....
far from the world..
far from the nothing that is and never was and never will be...
far from preying eyes, ravaging tongues, searching hands...
deep within

Encompassed.

Surviving the Storm

For weeks I have felt it coming. I could feel it in my bones. A storm was brewing and a big one at that. Even though I tried to prepare for it, even though I did my best to stand against it, I crumbled. It picked me up and tossed me about. Ripped at me. Crawled inside of me and tore me open. Then when it was through, when it had satisfied its craving, it threw me aside like unwanted trash.

Discarded by the side of the road. Frightened and alone, I lay there. Wondering if someone would come along and pick me up or if I would lie there for eternity. Forgotten.

Unwanted.

So there I lay. Exposed. Vulnerable and scared. Until from nowhere, she appeared. Beautiful and strong. Radiant and alive. She kneeled down beside me and for a moments just stared. I was afraid she was going to pass me by. I was certain that she would not want me. No one wants me. I am unwantable. Then before I realized what was happening she scooped me up and placed me in her pocket.

Safe.

And there I remain. No longer discarded. No longer abandoned. Protected in a pocket. I snuggle up and sleep.

Any Moment Now

The whirling, twirling, spinning vortex will spin into nothingness

The rumbling, moving earth will break into a tiny pebble
The ocean wet with life will become little more than a trickle

Any moment now....

The abyss will close and the inky blackness of its cloak will wrap tightly around me
The raging turbulence will become a lullaby soothing the crying infant

The roaring thunder will be silenced

too afraid to speak

too afraid to break the nothingness of what surrounds him

too afraid of shattering the protective arc that has covered its roar

Any moment now...

So in the abyss I wait

Wait for that moment

Unknowing when it will come but certain of its coming

Unknowing if it will be this one or that

Watching, waiting, patiently silent

As each moment passes by

Smiles and gently cradles me

Helping to ease that which is growing

Helping to calm the savage beast

Helping to silence the raging fire

Any moment now....

Life will begin

What My Innards Look Like

“I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

What message is yearning inside you?  What is something you know deep in your soul?  Don’t look for someone else to describe it.  You do it.  Write it down.  Write it as a poem, a sentence or even just a string of words.  Just make sure you get it to paper.

Through silent waters
Knee deep in mud
Struggling and straining


On and on
Never ending maze
Circle unbroken
Eternal flame

Into the vortex
Slip and slide
Forgetting tomorrow
Lost in time

Broken petals
Pierce the sky
Darkness evading
Passing by