sell me some courage
sell me some courage / sell me a pint / a wannabe human declared / before resisting the plunge / sell me some courage / a bottle of dew / so I might continue / I beg you / I do
the unbreakable chains
the unbreakable chains holding me in place / the bars of my involuntary cage / the locks to which I have no keys / …
“Of what are those unbreakable devices made?”, you ask
“Fear”, I say, “out of fear are they made, out of fear are they kept alive. Fear I fear; the answer…”
Resurrection
An accidental departing the box called home, I found plants limping and my frog belly up just so, Hoseing down the pots in joyless sunshine then, Plants in recovery; my frog - unlikely I say
as I rise
Tomorrow, as I rise all will be as they intended, Black and white across my skies the magpies sure will fly Tomorrow, as I fall all will be as they intended, Bloody crosses under purple skies; the magic slowly gathering Tomorrow, in the land of addictions; they will wake me; hurting Tomorrow, in the land of searching; my fingers crossed and bleeding Tomorrow, as I rise and fall all will be as they intended, Black and white; turning grey their observations I obey
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note to self: when your tutor suggested that you should drop your character into a situation and watch them develop, your story would probably have benefited (in length) if you had chosen a situation other than “open ocean + boat sinking + protagonist wearing concrete boots”. A short story does not imply a short life!
I Blame
I blame Satan’s Little Mignonettes
I blame an innocent reboot of the black box in the corner
I blame stupidity on the part of the accused
I blame the stress being much too much stressed
I blame it all on the rogue DHCP server which served up
the drinks; the smokes; and the invalid IP addresses
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No stone; unturned,
No spell; unspoken,
No truth out there,
There; on the stair,
I sit,
I ponder,
I am stale,
I am sorrow,
The dreams I have are
not of tomorrows,
,
Hear me! Gods of Dawn,
Hear me! Lucy; lucidly dreaming,
Dreaming; screaming,
I stink; of yesterdays,
I stink; of mold growing,
I sink; slowly,
I ink; poorly,
I age without dignity,
I age,
too,
fast
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vrtl6
After [pause]
a decade of drought; a minor dry spell,
I don the virtual-world helmet, and
It all comes back to me,
sex; pure and virtual,
physical or imagined,
bouncing or … not,
becomes once again,
reality
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Whisps of white mist linger
Between Thumb and Index finger
Grasping the gravity of patterns
Energy is all and that which matters
My hands thus hover on scarred tissues
Reflecting not on personal issues
Channeling the love that is all around
Universal healing for you is inbound