Ours

Tell me what you’re feeling cause my heart just started healing and I’ve poured my very soul into the words on this page

I need to understand you because I don’t want to go through all the things that locked my heart into a cold, dark cage

I’ve tried so many times and I have witnessed all love’s crimes and I don’t want to start the war my shattered heart might wage

The only thing I ask is to make honesty our task to get past each other’s pasts and make it into old age

Please tell me what you’re thinking I can’t let our love start sinking just pull back all of the curtains see, this world is our stage

The One: First Entry

Can we be honest with ourselves for a moment? I want to talk about some things. Things like Facebook. Twitter. Instagram, perhaps. Hell, even Tinder…anything that lets people advertise who they are (or at least who they want to be) without having to concern themselves with the real world.

Yeah, I know.

It’s not easy to examine one’s self. We’d all much rather be judging someone else. But right now, let’s do the hard thing and focus the lens introspectively.

Sure, it’s easy to look on at the spinning wheel that is social media, watching as the people we know and grew up with move on with their lives. Comparison is the theif of joy, ain’t it? That’s what they say, at least.

It’s funny though because everyone’s aware, whether consciously or subconsciously, that social media is just a highlight reel. If only we knew who we all are after each one of those many layers of social graces and obligatory formalities got peeled back. The real, you know? Because as much as we market how cool our lives are, at the end of the day…it’s validation that we really want.

Most of us, that is. And you know what? That’s perfectly normal. Not at all a thing to be ashamed of.

After all, most of us just want someone who knows us. Who understands us. Who IS us. We want to enjoy life with a person who gets, more so than anyone, who we truly are. And I’m not talking about the person at three o’clock, bringing in coffee with the same fake grin we all wear knowing we’re just waiting for the hour hand to get knocked ahead a couple notches. I’m talking about the person we are when the day’s facade is over, the candles go out, and the door closes. That person you see when the ambient light from the TV flicks on as it highlights the it-was-a-long-day-fucked-up-hair and feetie pajamas silhouette. That’s the person we’re searching for.

And you want to know something? I bet you’ve already met them.

I know I have.

What I’d Give

So bittersweet, this day to me

Each year it lies in wait

The pain so strong, the memories: glee

I’m struck by love and hate

The loss of those we hold most dear

Turns to tragedy, life’s play

And while you feel the hurt all year

We all have that one day

A time when all emotions rise

Consuming every thought

We try, in vain, to don disguise

Our mind, so overwrought

For her I write this, through endless tear

I’d give anything on Earth

To spend, with her, just one last year

This day: my mother’s birth

Wanderlust

Wanderlust, traveler, perhaps even gypsy

So many labels they’ve applied, but in reality

Living life is all she wants, it’s really that simple

Her spirit shines through both her smile, and her cute cheek dimple

Life is meant for living, yes, a thing she truly gets

Singing, dancing, spinning round, she loves without regrets

Always brightening what is dark, this girl, so free of care

Defined by “one day at a time”, she’s happy everywhere

Some may say she’s weak, not strong

But she knows that they all are wrong

She is not lost, like others say

This girl’s just finding her own way

For all the things we say and do

There is but one thing that is true

Life, she says, is nothing more

Than canvas, white, awaiting more

It’s you who gets to fill the blank

And for this chance, we all should thank

This beautiful and wondrous place

For giving us the life it’s graced

Love & Loss

Unforgiving, relentless, cruel

More sour than lemon or lime

Yielded by Life, this emotionless tool

Deals pain that’s inevitable: Time

No matter the love or the laughter it sees

It strikes without warning or sign

Its flame turns to smolder the most peaceful of trees

All beginnings, it ends by design

Why, all too often, is it the trivial, mundane

That seems to be our sole focus and care?

It takes moments like these, meant for family; not pain

The harshest reminder – her cold, empty chair

How fickle it is that this Life seems to be

Just a path we all struggle to cross

It’s proven by Time, regardless how desperate the plea

That if you ever know Love…you’ll know Loss

Winds of Change

Softly cup my hand to ear

As wind blows whispers that I hear

Sadness, loss, regret they bring

All shadows from my yesteryear

Words escape me, ones I’ve lost

I never knew how much it’d cost

When I thought not to buy a ring

The path I should, I never crossed

Now I’m forced to walk, move on

Time has passed; those moments, gone

And though I wish to have them back

I must stay focused on the dawn

For life is cruel, it won’t concede

Regardless if I pray and plead

And though I may not be on track

Faith in myself is all I need

Things in life, they come and go

And as I lift this small window

I look outside, only to see

That we reap the things we sow

Every action, every word

Is seen, or felt, or tasted, heard

And whether it is you, or me

Life’s purpose always seems so blurred

So, to you, who has a past

Do not let your transgressions last

We’re here, together, throughout our time

And everyone has sins amassed

Live with love, try to arrange

The life you want, an open grange

Do not break rhythm, just to rhyme

And always, ride, the winds of change

Trust.

After all the hurt and pain I’ve seen, I realize things aren’t what they seem

Life is one unconscious stream, to most a nightmare; some a dream

I like to say I think things through but don’t know if I really do

Can’t comprehend the things He knew and yet I keep on trying to

It simply can’t be justified, His answers – I’m not satisfied

After all those nights I cried, in silence now I must confide

They say his plan is just too grand, his reasons we can’t understand

No longer will I idly stand, to You right now God, I demand

This hatred was my missing link, the ship You sail I’ve set to sink

I care not for what others think, these words I write in blood and ink

I look you now right in the eye. Why was it her who had to die?

This place you’ve made; it is not just

Deceit. Corruption. Betrayal. Lust.

That is the world on which we’re thrust

Shining once, now rot and rust

This isn’t what you and Abe should have discussed

This world should be love. One of laughter; robust

Yet I look all around and see so much disgust

Poor, helpless families that never adjust

You had so many ashes; all you created was dust

So I stand here before you, because someone must.

I take my life back now, God. You’ve broken my trust.

The Fear of Death

Some time ago, I sat upon a balcony, just staring on

My mind, my thoughts, my very soul, sat wondering where it all goes

I pondered whether, when we die, the scrolls are true, or just a lie

And as I sat there, lost in thought, a child came, a book he’d brought

Sitting down right next to me, he looked me in the eye, said “see?”

“Can’t you tell that he’s up there, and wants to free you from despair?”

Softly smirking, to he I said “my child, so many things I’ve read”

“Allah, Buddha, Krishna too; the testaments, both old and new”

Sadly sighing, this boy looked down and shedding tears, began to frown

“But mister,” this boy said to me, “our souls live for eternity”

“And if you doubt this, so I’m told, you’re cast aside ‘till time grows old”

I paused a moment, listening, and thought back to my christening

“Listen, son, for Matthew says, seek the kingdom; righteousness”

“The truth is all I want to know; to gaze upon a clear window”

“Do not let past transgressions rule, do not let dogma play the fool”

And then, with one last final breath, I said to him: “Do not fear death.”

My Hands

Never idle, on the move, ink pours on the page

The force that drives, a needed guide, is with me on this stage

I try to be an optimist, but sometimes I’m consumed by rage

Thinking of how things are done and how they could so quickly change

Yes all the world’s a stage you know, it’s something that you shan’t forget

The sun and stars would get along if only they’d shake hands and met

Humanity could follow suit, we’ve got the tech but somehow, yet

We manage to exacerbate the very things we should forget

Fossil fuels and everything, you know that it’s all temporary

But tell me more of how it works, and how mining isn’t mercenary

If you truly want to change the world into a gilded sanctuary

Then play the long game not the short, and hire you an actuary

Maybe they can run the numbers, project a truth that you won’t like

Their findings likely point to truth like human beings should take a hike

Sure, we all know that we need to build that interstate or that turnpike

Yet as we do this trees are cut, it’s like the land of the Third Reich

Yes it’s so, the world’s a stage, it’s just a game of checkers, chess

We put our pieces on the board, where we think they’ll help us best

And when we find a new chance to establish ourselves, let me guess

You want to build a military presence just to clean the mess

Sure my man, come on down, bring your gadgets and your tech

Cause I don’t really care what happens as long as I get that big check

You see this is why the world is wasted, all it’s countries are a wreck

We let the people be in charge that only care for their own neck

Maybe one day you’ll wake up, realize that this dream of yours

Doesn’t have to happen this way and you won’t be on all fours

Rising up and taking charge, you’ll fight and finely take these lands

Until then I’ll try my best, just writing with my moving hands

Letter to My Lost: 1

My love. My all. Such memories do we share. Memories such as the times we’d awaken to the sun’s shimmering rays darting through the window, on those soft linen sheets as you’d rollover, greeting me with the morning’s first kiss. Memories of your fingers gently gliding, cusping the back of my neck, holding me as if you’d never let go.

I so long for these moments. I cannot help but wonder where you are and what dangers lie ahead. Each day, without exception, I sit gazing out this window at the calm beach and its soothing waves; the soft sound of the salted water drifting to the shore. I think of us, my love, walking along that cool, flawlessly smooth sand with our hands clasped tightly together, enjoying the warm breeze as it passes through us without a care in the world.

The days are proving harder, my love. Each day without you further shatters my soul, as my thoughts are imprisoned by the uncertainty of your welfare. I miss you every waking second of the day, and am greeted by your embrace only in my most deepest of dreams.

Tell me you will be returning soon. I cannot bear the thought of going through this every day. I miss you, my Braden. I hope my letter finds you well.

Please come home to me.

With everlasting love,

Your Lilliana

Keep the Prayers

Keep the prayers, I request, to your own faithful self. They’re distant to me, meant for somebody else. I was close to your God, admittedly you see, until he ripped me apart; abandoning me. I’m told “There’s always a reason”. Yeah, well I disagree. No purpose is found in response to my plea. His “love” ripped the life from my family tree and left nothing but branches, bare as can be. Yet I’m expected to thank Him for who he DID leave? The knuckles and thorns that cause nothing but grief? I’m asked to embrace this great Sculptor and Thief, who steals life from creation yet demands its belief? How twisted the logic of Religion must be to pass judgments on those who don’t blindly believe; we who dare question the infallibility of He who locks his own house and gives evil the key, corrupting his own tenants that in one breath could be free, if only the Lord would allow their release?

I don’t care what your pages, prayers, or priests tell you. There is no realm in which the amount of unwarranted death, suffering, and destruction this world is subjected to can be justified. No false eternity, no empty promises, and no alleged punishment of those who oppress, rape, or murder will ever merit the evil allowed in this world. These are nothing more than lies to masquerade the suffering as something worth tolerating. A pathetic grasp for meaning in a meaningless reality.

Breathe.

Listen, I don’t want to offend, just please comprehend that the time that we spend in devotion and admiration of who we thought was our friend is now something that, sadly, I can no longer commend. The magnitude of my mind’s malcontent effects pain impossible to mend, as I see nothing but an empty dead end for which I can no longer expend what little strength I have left to fight or contend. It’s like He created hope just to strip it away, to apprehend our only tool to desperately suspend the realization that for every start, there’s an end; that the shadows and darkness will always descend; demonically disregarding the tales we believe and the life we pretend.

I’m conflicted, consumed and confused by this sense of abandonment I’ve no choice but to feel, ashamed I took the bait; deceived by a false rod and reel. I can no longer find cause to embrace, heed or kneel to He who ignored every cry and appeal, my pathetic attempts to take her pain and conceal all the heartache she suffered and the hurt that he’d deal. And yet, through it all, she still prayed that she’d heal, to one day finally break that constricting tight seal, in hope that the answers she sought would at long last be revealed.

There are no words in existence which can adequately describe the degree of sadness, emptiness, hopelessness and hatred that such hindsight instills.

Once more, I ask that you respectfully forgive what many would label as harsh conjecture. This is not the shallow recant of some closed-off, short-sighted miscreant. These pages contain the unabridged passion which defines me; nothing more.

So I ask that you forgive, as every night I can’t help but relive that month which felt more like a year, when I sat plagued by inexplicable fear that her death was so close; unavoidably near. How vivid is that memory, hauntingly clear; the image of she who I held so close and so dear, lying in tubes on that bed as the shell of the person who used to appear; now drifting away with no life to cohere. And as I sat next to her writing through every cry, sob and tear, I tried my absolute damnedest to be strong, persevere, begging God that He’d save her so for once in her life she could taste happiness; cheer.

I watched the tube being pulled from her. That final, feeble lifeline pathetically attempting to breathe life into her poor lungs. I collapsed, terrified, against the wall. Defeated, completely helpless and puddled in tears as I witnessed her unconscious body desperately gasp for the oxygen that her fragile body’s grip could no longer grasp. It was, without the remotest doubt, the worst sensation I have ever experienced, and one which I would not wish on even the worst transgressors of humanity. Feelings such as those felt that moment would not exist in a world claimed to have been created out of love. This is the harsh, unarguably candid truth.

Regarding my opinions and views of God, I ask not that you agree. I have no request, nor desire, for sadness or sympathy. I merely wish that my words and contempt fall on minds that are free; free of the judgement which has for so long met my plea as I fail to articulate that which I now so passionately see.

For thirty years I have bowed, as my whole life I would vow, yet I stand here no longer acting holier than thou. I can simply not continue to allow my unjust allegiance, as every drop of sweat from my brow is shed for He who destroys, whom I tonight disavow. It’s not born of vanity, and not that I’m proud. I’ve just at last cleared the malicious dark cloud that’s wrapped my plagued mind in the blackest of shrouds. Despite His cold embrace, I’m finally free; and the death of my mother is the answer, to how.

Please, keep the prayers. I just…don’t need them now.

My New World

The other day I went out and bought this big ass terrarium. At first I wanted something else, like a ferret, or salt aquarium. But I ended up changing my mind. Something about that enormous, transparent habitat just appealed to me. Not sure why. Anyway, I took it home, set it down, walked away and spent the rest of the day doing various chores around the house. Later, as the day wound down and I finished getting ready to set sail to Slumbertown, I stood beside my bed and stared at this empty tank in front of me, and thought: “Now what?” Well, I stared for awhile longer, pondering all the things I could put inside. Like lizards, or turtles, or the disembodied limbs of my enemies, ya know? But then, for some reason, I figured I’d try to think bigger, like a sugar glide or boa snake or some awesome theme park hamster slide, but then I internally heard a voice say “Hey Matt! Can you kindly shut up, and actually decide?” (Sometimes I forget that my brain actually speaks and isn’t just along for the ride).

Okay maybe that last part, I confide, didn’t really happen. I lied. So what? This is MY story, dammit, and I’m the guide; you’re just here for me to preside as YOU sit there along for the ride. Like my bitch ass brain should be. And you know what el – okay I’m just playin. I apologize.

Lets get back to the empty tank, shall we?

There I was. A literal micro-world of possibilities sitting there before me when all of a sudden, it came to me. Oh my God! I can populate this thing with like, an entire cornucopia of different organisms and let them all co-exist. Just like Earth! It’ll be my own little universe to create; with myself, of course, ruling over the entire domain in control of its fate.

So I thought about that for a moment.

As I stood there, so many things started coursing through my head. Things like how the tank sits next to my bed, and what if I moved it to the corner instead? My brain considered that but eventually said “Just leave it there Matt. Heavy lifting? We know that’s a thing that you hate and you dread. Because to be candid, you’re kind of a pussy.” And before I could reply to my ever-annoying mind, something happened. I, at last, realized something of grave importance which would directly affect the internal debate currently transpiring in my skull.

I realized l had bolted the damn tank to the table earlier that day, and that I couldn’t move the stupid thing even if I wanted to. So that took care of that.

Then things started to get a bit more serious. The above realization had freed up my thought, and I started to jot what kinds of things could be bought to populate this little glass plot. I wondered how much time I’d allot to spend in this spot, as the truth that I fought is that there’s only so much time that I’ve got.

That’s when I decided.

I’ll put whatever the hell I want in this thing! Let’s Noah’s Ark the Hell out of it. After all, I own this dominion, no? Of course I do. This tiny world was mine to create. So again, that took care of that.

I would run the place my way. Or ways, I should say, because hey – why limit myself to one set of rules or pathway? Wouldn’t it be more fun to rule one way on weekends and another on workdays?

So that was my decision.

Ironically, I decided that deciding didn’t warrant my abiding by the expectations usually presiding over the world WE live in that, admittedly, could use much, much better guiding. Would I mimic this world of constant dividing forcing families into hiding with a fear that’s never subsiding as their dreams are ever sliding down a hopeless, empty chasm? Or would I opt to be providing? The latter, if I’m confiding, that I wish was more closely coinciding with the regimes currently overriding any form of free thought or challenge to their authority as they quell dissent with brutal chiding. Perhaps I could create both environments, depending on my mood. Sky is the limit I suppose.

Yes, this will be Matt’s world.

This would be a world for me, alone, to create. A world where Matt can dictate who they’ll love and who they’ll hate, and whether one lives in an estate or whether they instead await a much less privileged, unfair, sadly hopeless fate. A world I own; my own private city-state where I can close the real world’s gate, retreating as the night is late to the creatures I rule, as I mandate that they worship me as “Matt, The All-Knowing; The Loved, The Feared…but Mostly The Great.” I imagine that would very much elate, as my animal instinctual desire to dominate can be an appetite that finally, I can satiate.

That’d be cool, right?

Then my Brain did that thing again. That thing I keep telling it not to. It dug. Deeper and deeper.

And I had an epiphany.

All of these creatures that I dreamt to control might actually have their own aspiration or goal. Who was I to keep them tied to this pole that my mind had created; after all, they all have a soul, don’t they? And, if we’re being candid, for one to feel whole they shouldn’t have to hide in some hole that they dug to avoid paying a toll to some hovering, judgmental ruler who more closely resembles a troll than the benevolent creator that some poor schmuck described millennia ago on a crusty, crumbling scroll.

So I changed my mind yet again.

And I bought a fucking turtle. Because truthfully, my brain was annoying the hell out of me. I installed this little mini-swimming pool for it and everything. Hell, I even got the little shit a floating lily pad for those times it desired extra, extra laziness. Oh, turtles. How uneventful their lives are. This turtle’s existence, however, would be eventful as shit. ‘Cause this turtle, unlike any before in the history of Turtledom, lived in Matt’s World. It would be treated as a King. Actually wait; let’s say prince. It’d be treated like a prince. I’m the King. Duh.

Lucky turtle.

Oh, and I call the thing an “it” because I have absolutely no idea how to identify the gender of a turtle without using means that are entirely too…intimate. So how do I name it, I wondered? Well, I decided on the path of least resistance, and just named it Pat. Sure, there are dozens of gender neutral names, but hey. Pat rhymes with Matt. Now we’re two peas on a lily pad, god dammit. And to anyone making fun…you’re obviously just jealous you don’t have a Pat of your own. Haters gon’ hate.

Anyway, a curious thing happened after I (and Pat) got settled to go to Sleepburg.

I thought back to that thing which, before, I would laud. All that power I wanted, which to me now just seems odd. I pictured an image of the creator I so recently imagined I’d be, and suddenly I was swept by an eerie sense of awe. Awe by that place where my mind’s steps had just trod. The thing I fear most; that power is a thing I desire and applaud. A thing, to be frank, that’s just a corrupted facade. The empty, false confidence of believing my own fraud. A dream that I now realize exposes a harsh truth; which is the fact that I’m enormously flawed.

Because why, so recently, had I thought to maraud an entire universe of creatures as if they were just inmates, helplessly at the mercy of my personal firing squad? This question, which sawed at my brain as my frozen thoughts were all thawed as I started to prod, questioning my own moral fibers with a psychological measuring rod – I was suddenly, overwhelmingly consumed by the most profound of considerations.

See, this world I had imagined just hours ago wouldn’t be far removed from the world that WE know. Had I thrown those poor creatures in that tank all alone, sitting back as I watch them all fight, die, or grow, knowing that I could intervene at any point down below – shouldn’t I? I mean if with all of that power I could use and bestow, what reason would I have to let my own creatures woe? As peace, I forego; what kind of monster would that make me, watching them suffer when at the snap of my finger, away it’d all go? What kind of creator could do that to the very things he put there to begin with? They didn’t ask to be put there! They owe me nothing, right? Why would I do that?

Then I recalled my old thoughts yet again. I recalled all that darkness which my own brain had thankfully outlawed just hours before, as I was confronted by a question that was narrowing my beliefs that were once far too broad.

I asked, though I silently feared the truth; were those the same thoughts that were considered…by God?

When Finally, It’s Built

The last years of your life

So confined and constrained

Arthritis was rife

It hurt, and it pained

No solace you had

But to lay in your bed

Retreat to your books

Build a world in your head

I’ll never forget, Mom

All the stories and shows

We’d read and watch together

To forget this life’s woes

CSI, Nora Roberts

Your favorites, I know

You’d gleefully immerse

In her books, or that show

Oh Mom, how it hurts

To think of these times

It rips me apart

But keeps me alive

All that’s ahead

Everything I achieve

Is all due to you, Mom

And your love for me

You deserved so much more

How so badly I yearn

To turn back the clock

Give the life that you earned

The impossible, I want

The impossible, I need

Yet I’m forced to move forward

And to carry this grief

Your love for those stories

They’ve inspired me, Mom

And I promised you one day

That’d I’d carry that love on

One day, Mom, I swear it

No more tears will be spilt

When I cut that bright ribbon

When finally, it’s built

My Life

Monday, Friday

Every day through the week

Working, writing

Never hanging with the weak

Paying, my dues

Those that came before me

Same grind, same time

Time off? Please that bores me

No sir, no ma’am

Sure, I talk politely

At night? All night

Writing, it consumes me

Let’s take a break

A break from what, Matt?

That rhythm there

Oh, you don’t like that?

Okay, no way

See what I did there?

Symmetry, those beats

Flip it over still the same thing

Hold up, last verse?

No the one before, damn

Oh shit, that’s right

What’s this poem about, man?

Who knows, I don’t

All I know is writing it

Has been, no joke

Fun as hell and now it’s ten

Sure is, turn in?

Bitch you must be playin

No chance, next glass

Man Baxter is sleeping

So what? Wake up

All these tasks on my hand

Right now? Yes now

His ass can sleep at work, man

True that, no doubt

That dogs my dog, see

No joke, I know

Little guys my world, B

Okay!

Lets hold up

Time to pause for a cause

So I can fill my cup

Okay!

For real this time

Tomorrow imma read

Laugh my ass, this rhyme

Okay!

Time for bed, for real.

Cmon Mr Baxter. Seriously. Come on.

The Battle Begins

The Battle Begins

You think I like this?

Dark nights but my lights are all on as my head splits?

Look back at regret

All the should that I could

The times that I left

The times that I cried

The times that are lost

The day that you died

I hate it

The pain that I bare

So I sit in this chair

My pen to this page

Raising the bar of minimum rage

That clock, it just taunts me

Spinning around silently

Turns the direction I don’t want it to be

Smirking and laughing, sadistically

You think it’s funny, follow behind – see?

Go through this shit and then stand beside me

Bah, fuck it

Where to from here, Shao?

Just keep those eyes locked, it won’t be long now

Sit back and enjoy, just give it some time

You can’t storm a castle without ladders to climb

This siege has just started, it’s hardly begun

And it ain’t gonna end till I’ve looked back and won

The Tiki Torches: 3

“Alright, everyone. This evening we have an excellent opportunity to show these people just what we mean. We’ve tolerated centuries of oppression, decades of condescension, and countless years of bigotry! I say unto you all, stand up for your rights! Stand up for your freedoms! Stand up for the God Given, inherent capabilities of existing as a human being!”

Hurrah!!

Standing tall in front of a melting pot of human beings, the mayor of the city of Perth gives an emboldened speech at the municipalitie’s town hall meeting. As a champion of all races and creeds, he has garnered the support of pretty much the entire town. Except, of course, a small minority of closed minded bigots who refuse to adapt to change.

“We will stand strong with our brothers and sisters, no matter the cost!” The mayor shouts from his podium inside the town halll. “This is but a small town, but we are a united town!” He adds, a finger shaking in the air to reiterate his point.

“We will not allow a small contingent of oppressors to light up the evening! We will stamp out the flames of injustice!” Hurrah! “We shall stop them in their tracks!” Hurrah! “We shall meet them on the battlefield of intellectual opposition, and let none leave without exposure to our light!” HURRAH!!!!

As the mayor lets the crowd’s energy die down, he holds out his arms.

“My friends.” He says. “Let us begin preparations. It’s been reported that there has been a spike in Tiki Torch sales at the Wal-Smart across town. Let’s show them that these torches shall not have been bought in vain! We shall show them the error of their ways.”

Hurrahhhh!!!!!!

Slowly walking off his town hall stage, the mayor finally takes a moment to catch his breath.

“Great speech, sir!” One of his constituents says.

“Yeah. It was. But it was just that. A speech.” The mayor snaps back, obviously caught up in thinking about something else.

“But sir, you moved the entire town! That surely must count for something.” The constitutant says.

“Yes. They’re motivated. And for that I am grateful. But there is so much else left to do.” The mayor says.

“Come, we must prepare for the Torches.” He adds with a sly wink, clearly indicating that he has something in store for the folks riding his way.

For Better or Worse (Ch 8)

IMPORTANT: HUMAN BEINGS ARE VOLATILE, DANGEROUS, AND EMOTIONALLY UNPREDICTABLE 

***Handle with utmost caution. Do not allow these creatures outside of the included habitat***

Setting her instruction booklet aside, the little girl takes one final look at her “teenie-weenies”, before clearing the tank to make room for her next batch of creatures.

“Sorry little guys!! I know you’ve been having the time of your lives in there, but I’ve got some new teenie-weenies on the way!! Daddy says they are even more exciting than you guys! Much smarter and more fun to play with. I’m sooooooo sorry!!!!!!”

Grasping the enclosure with her trunk, the little girl dumps the entire habitat of human beings into the drain inside her bathroom, flushing them down into the abyss below. 

“Have fun down there!!” She shouts, smiling as the very last human swirls around in a vortex of death. 

“All clean Daddy!” The girl shouts, waiting for her father to bring in her new pets. “These humans were fun.”

For Better or Worse (Ch 7) 

“Ho hum ho hum deedeedee!”

Joyfully skipping around her bedroom, the little girl is singing and humming to herself as her furry pigtails bounce around behind her. 

“Now, what are my teenie-weenies up to today?” She asks, skipping over to the terrarium.

As she peers inside, she sees that her little creatures have erected an enormous statue of her. Chiseled to perfection, the monolith displays her every feature, dimpled smile and all. 

“Wow! Well look at that!” She squeals in delight. “How did you guys do that without me noticing?!”

Leaning back to admire the sculpture, she beams at the tiny inhabitants inside, who appear to be bowing before her.

“You guys are just so adorable. Thank you for my statue!” She says to them.

Entering her room, the girl’s father approaches the tank as he puts his hand on her head. 

“Time for bed, sweetie.”

Noticing the statue, he chuckles.

“And what have we here?” He asks.

“My teenie-weenies built me a monument, Daddy! Look!” The little girl says, pointing to the newly erected obelisk.

“Very impressive!” Her father laughs. “You are clearly a generous God. Now come, let’s get you tucked in.”

“Okay Daddy.” The girl says as her father lifts her up, placing her under the sheets. Kissing her on the forehead, smiles at her before walking out the door.

“I love you, kiddo.” He says. 

“Love you too Daddy.” The girl replies, yawning as she softly falls asleep.

The Pearl

Some time ago, there came to be, a gorgeous dame, just twenty-three

Beauty she was, in entirety, with eyes so blue, as deepest sea

 

Kind and gentle, she cared for all, the rich, the poor, the short, the tall

A heart of gold, her charm enthralled, she loved the big, adored the small

 

But something was hiding, behind her bright smile, a thing she that she longed for, a love to beguile

She watched all around her, all of the while, dreamed of her own day, to walk down the aisle

 

Despite her perfection, the kindest of soul, her father was evil, forbidding that stroll

His eyes never left her, he took a hard toll, his heart was pure hatred, and blacker than coal

 

He feared all the others, and made the decree, no one shall wed her; she’ll stay here with me

He assumed that all men, they all thought like he; and viewed other women, as their property

 

A day fine’ly came, and much to her joy, a kind man arrived, a respectable boy

But sadly the dad, became quite annoyed, the kind man he shunned, the girl’s dream destroyed

 

Fearing him not, the man formed a plan, to save this fine lady, to win her fine hand,

To free the fair maiden, from father and land, to give her a life, where she’s in command

 

So off the ‘gent went, partook in this quest, to find the solution, he puffed out his chest

He saddled his horse, he put on his vest, in love he believed, in armor he dressed

 

He rode through the night, through thick and through thin, the hot and the cold, still air, and the wind

He fought many battles, when chances were slim, passion would guide him, love always would win

 

At last the day came, to fight for the girl, and meet eye to eye, the father, this Earl

And as their blades clashed, the swish and the swirl, the maiden came out, her hand clasped a pearl

 

She shouted to them, “Please, just get along!”, and “Why”, to the father, “What is so wrong?”

“Why say you hate him, he doesn’t belong? Why can’t you see how our love is so strong?”

 

And as the girl cried, she fell to her knees, she begged for her father, to put doubt at ease

To let his grip go, to fine’ly appease, she begged it be so, with passion, and “please”

 

As the damsel distressed, the dad heard her cry, he turned and he faced her, a tear in his eye

“My dear I’m so sorry, for all of this time, I’ve missed your poor mother, I’ve needed respite”

 

Hearing these words, the kind man dropped his sword, he hugged the poor father, whose words had struck chord

“Forgive me”, Dad said, “I’ve been a bad ward, your life is your own, to live and go ‘ford”

 

And so on that day, the girl fine’ly found, the love that she’d dreamed of, her chains were unbound

All men can change, when truth is abound, remember this story, when tough times come around

Toe in the Water 

It looks so cold 

This water, bold

As evening reaches crest 

And yet I know

Aft icy blow

The warmth will be abreast 

Is it so hard?

Why do I guard?

No logic can be found 

Just jump right in

But wait! I grin 

I will! The next time round

I promise, then

I’ll dive right in

I know the shock is short

Okay, let’s go!

Hang on! Go slow

No wait, I must abort

I must prepare 

And get some air

For easy, it is not

To take the leap

It looks so steep 

One chance is all you’ve got

This life’s not long

So sing your song

Leave worry in the past

For when you’re old 

You’ll wish you’d told

Yourself to have a blast 

Don’t be the one

To miss the fun

Make every second count

As fortune faves

The bold in waves 

The risk worth all amount 

Your life is yours 

Not boring chores

This, please understand 

It starts with you

That water, blue

Don’t waste away in sand

Just take a toe

And dip it slow 

The cold will soon feel hotter 

The time is here

No more “next year”

It starts with toe in water