Friday, November 16, 2012
“Did you go and throw away the butts out here? ’Cause I was a savin’ ‘em.”
“Fer what? Ya got a whole carton inside.”
“’Cause, Woman, I was savin’ ‘em! Do I ask you why you save your damn yarn scaps?”
“Well, I didn’t touch ‘em, you old cuss!” Mutters an old lady as she comes outside carrying a tray of lemonade.
“Here’s your dang drink!” she says, setting the glass down hard.
“So you’re saying it was Rumpelkin…” Begins the old man, nodding off the patio to the one yard ornament the couple had.
It was hard to see him through all the weeds over growing the once beautiful yard, but he was there. Tattered and chipped as he was he was loved. The old pair, in years gone by, would spend hours in silent conversation with dear old Rumpelkin. They would mutter and wave their hands about from time to time; some thought them a bit on the queer side.
Yet in reality Rumpelkin helped the twosome keep a bit of their sanity after it was found out that Bess was barren. He would be a sounding board, a shoulder to cry on, friend to share a joke with and so much more.
But that time had passed. It pure luck if they woke up remembering they were married anymore. Poor old Rumpelkin forgotten and left to rot.
“Well, could be, he’s old ‘nuff to smoke now anyhow.” Says Bess as she twirls her bangs with her fingers, smiling all the while.
“But Bess this ain’t the first time...”
Idea! The old man thinks, blowing smoke like a dragon deep in Contemplation, I’ll catch ‘er red handed…crazy hen, hehehe.
“All right, Bess, you win.” Says the husband, standing and pulling his suspender straps up.
“I…I gotta go to the store and pick a few things up, need anything Ma?
“Naw, Pa…Hurry up, Bout to cook supper 'n it’s best hot.”
“I know ma.” Replies the man looking up to the sun at high-noon.
Hours pass and dinner grows stale by the time the old man finishes his project. Oh Imma get ‘er good! These lights’ll wake me up I’m sure, Rumpelkin,the Blacklung…pfft..
He couldn’t help himself, the old man fell to his knees, laughing.
It was three A.M. Blinding flash.
Oh, Lordy Is it my time? Ponders the old man before he remembers the trap. Oh yea!
He sits up. Looking over He sees Bess missing from the bed. I knew it was’ er, crazy bat!
So, the old man hops out of bed and runs through the house, knocking over trash can and stepping on the mangy cat they keep. Damn cat!
Finally, he gets to the back door and open’s it up
“AH, HA I GOT Y…..”
His words hung in his mouth. It…It ca….can’t be! He thought
Before him sat Rumpelkin, a halo of smoke rising from the half burnt cigarette in his mouth.
“Hey Henry, bout time you caught on.” Said Rumpelkin in a gruff, deep voice
And with that Henry’s world went black.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
I hope to do this as often as I can...A poem on my feelings for the week,I hope you enjoy them.Let me know what you think,if you please.
From a filter tinted blue
the light of the world shines through
Yet non-the-less truthful
Cold river rushes by
Pushing me down to the ground
Muddy water on the bank
Then a trip
Red is overlaid
purple is my pigment now
A sad mix
A mad mix
Blinding rage flashes ruefully
Rend the soul
Green is laid upon
Grey the world is now
Longing for more
Life goes on
In the current below
Me caught in the dead spot between
Blurred and jumbled
Clarity is needed
Foresight to forge on
One then the other
Up the slippery slope
World all shine and glare
I walk on
Friday, November 9, 2012
OK, I'm trying something new here.Not sure how it'll turn out.Let me know.
White washed walls. White screen door. Paint peeling. Lovely. Home.
Havoc, chaos, death. Hollow eyes, hungry gums, icy skin. Unforgiving. Cold steel, blinding flash. Soul broken. Family lost. Bloody hand print pressed to mesh.
Cool mountain forest. Leaves crunching under foot. Running head long. Vision red-edged. Lungs burning. Heart beating against brain.
Broken leg, bone through skin.
Life failing. Light fading.
“Oh Hun, its perfect!” squealed Marnie, her blue eyes shining as the sea on a summer day.
We found our home.
“If you’re sure babe,” I said hesitantly, looking at all I had to do before Bryson came to us. “I mean it’s a lot of work…”
It really was. The porch roof half caved in on the right side. The paint was god awful, all shades and states of flaking. The screen door ripped at the bottom on rusty hinges.
“but Brice….” Her freckles scrounging together around her nose as he caressed the battered screen. She turns to me smiling, so lovely.
She knew I couldn’t say no to that beautiful face. She was my world, my everything, my love. Stepping in close to my little Mermaid and caressing her perfect tummy, our future.
“Okay, I’ll find a way to make it work, I just want the best.” I kiss her neck.
“I know. I love you.” She says, reaching back to rub my hair.
“Not as much as I love you.”
We hold one another each wondering what the future holds.
Wet oak leaves. Redder still.
Teeth marks swollen.
Blood oozing to shirt. Like wine on sand.
Fever. Blackness comes again.
“Daddy, look!” Bryson Exclaimed with only the joy a kid can have, pulling the plastic bucket off the wet sand throwing it to the side, forgotten.
“Great son! All by yourself too.”
It was the first vacation we had had in a few years, what with Bryson being young and house repairs to pay for I didn’t have time to get away.
“I’m glad you got away hun, you needed it. You work too hard.” Said Marnie , smiling her little smile driving me crazy.
It’s been ten years I’ve known her, been close, and she still makes my heart skip. I wasn’t concerned with the white, warm sand or the bright blue ocean I was just happy to spend time with my family.
“What did I do?” Ask Marnie, giggling and sipping her wine.
“Nothing Marn…I’m just happy.”
Staring off in the distance I notice Bryson’s gone too far away from us.
“I told him to stay close”
“Hes four, what do you expect dear?”
“I know, I’ll go get him”
I kiss her on the lips, the peppery flavor of the vintage sour on my tongue.
“Daddy! Daddy! OUCH….OUCHY!DADDY!” I hear him scream from the ankle deep water
I get there and pull a clear blob off and run back to Marnie, Bryson crying all the while.
I don’t answer I grab her glass and pour it on his leg.
Sand turning red as blood on a shirt.
Waking vision blurred.
"Damn it Marn..." I say looking at the check statement "I told you things were tight this month"
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't pass the deal up though" She replies meekly not knowing what to do,tears welling at the edges of her azure eyes.
I really shouldn't of been so mad, I know how she loved her roses and forty wasn't bad for six Anne Hathaways. Besides it would complete the left side perfectly.My, how we'd waste away the time looking at her work.
"What's wrong Dad?" Bryson ask coming down the stairs, hair a mess in his night clothes.Freckles darker and more numerous than eve his mom's.
I sigh.I dealt with arguing all my child hood.I wouldn't let that happen to him.
"Nothing son, I've just had a rough day." I say getting up to kiss him on the forehead. "You've an early morning, up to bed,k?"
"OK, I love you."
"Love you too, Bry-bry"
I turn to Marnie, My love.I sigh.
"Hun...I...I'm." I rub my face and hair.
She walks up to me, all hint of sadness gone.
"I know, its ok. I'm sorry too."
She looks at me, I get lost in the sea of her eyes as she moves closer.She kisses me deeply.
Loss,Emptiness,Loneliness,Release just a short crawl away Delirium closing in.
Delusion fades, bright clear sky over head.
White pale skin, white trembling hands find steel.
Red hair hanging low freckles on her nose.
The bitter taste of tears and pepper and steel.
The boy, crazy hair, giggling.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Poor Ezrah is slamming around inside, trying to tear my meninges.Clamping veins, giving me headaches;He isn't dead. In fact, I've finished the little adventure I started in #FlashFriday a few weeks ago and started a few more plot points.I'm just seeing how far I can carry it.
As far as my #FlasFriday entries go I'm trying to do something new every week, a self imposed challenge if you will.Trying to see what works and what doesn't.I'm trying not to be a one trick pony.
Please, read if you have the time and let me know what you think.If you like Subscribe.
So I hope to see you around, my Friends!
Also, trying to spread the word:
my friend Larry Kollar has a few books out.He is a wonderful author whom I've had the pleasure of seeing grow and one I've known for a good chunk of my life.And I'm better for it! So show him some love too!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Not even a big one at that.
But, As Ezrah knew all too well, that’s where bad days and sleepless night were born. The trouble with life on the Borderlands is that they border on crazy. You never know what sort of beast or man you’ll find there. To a few that’s the joy, seeing giant spiders scurry across the plains, or play host to the few wild elves left for a night. To the rest it’s a nightmare, full of ghost and ghouls and other beast much worse, all gnashing teeth and angry eyes. It’s a wonder the Hex-guns can keep up. Yet, that’s what stoked the fire deep inside making Ezrah shine bright and true; a beacon of light in these unforgiving lands. Well it didn’t hurt that Tesla asked a favor of him.
As the settlement grew closer the ground changed from grey featureless rock and cracked earth to something that felt like crushed limestone, yet red as dried blood and soft enough to crumble to dust at the slightest touch. As the vermillion sand fell from his hands a gust of wind carried the specks away.
“Looks like a storms acomin’.” grunted Ezrah to the darkening west.
Ahead was the river bed from which the place got its name sake. A handful men, women, and children were gathered round the trickle that ran out of the mine, bottling the liquid metal in cast-iron flask to be shipped to Tesla and used on all kinds of odd experiments.
“Why’ve you gone and chawed up the land here you crazy old coot? I’d bet ol’ Isabella here that that’s where your trouble’s from.” muttered Ezrah, caressing his revolver as he tightened the strap, smiling. “No need for hostilities just yet, m’lady. I’m sure before it’s all over you’ll have some fun.”
Through the red dust came a shadow of a boy running from person to person, pointing to the coming squall. With that the lazy pace changed to a fever pitch; everyone chucking bottles in crates and crates on wagons almost as if the storm itself is the problem.
“Hey, you there,” a voice calls from behind the open gate, now only about an acre away, “You better hurry up and get on in here. Thingis ‘bout to get rough…”
“What ya mean by “rough”?” asked Ezrah, hiding his surprise at being called out from so far away.
“No time! Just get in here Hex-gunner”
“That easy to spot are we?” asked Ezrah, adjusting his belt so his coat hid Isabella better.
“Naw, not usually, but we knew you was coming ‘Gunner, and your hand cannon’s marked. Makes it easier to tell you apart from the rest of us. Now hurry up and get in here, we need to close the valves holdin’ the door open, unless you’re volunteerin’ to clean them when the storm passes.”
“No, no I’m not at that.”
As the distance closed the body behind the voice showed itself. He was a portly man, weathered by time and trials unknown; and they didn’t leave the man unmarred. Where his left eye should be was a glowing orb of electricity, crackling out at the edges singing what hair was left on the wizened man.
“Name’s Jed. Thank you for coming ‘Gunner.”
“Ezrah.” Replies the Hex-Gunner shaking Jed’s outstretched hand. “Now, why the panic here over such a small dustup figured you guys’d be used to it out here on the Border Lands”
“Oh, it ain’t the storm, my friend, it’s those little buggers that come out of the mine when it hits.” Declared the overweight gentleman, his enchanted blue orb staring off in the distance as the gate slammed to. “Gremlins, things used to just muck up our gears, nothing new there, right? Well, that the men and I could handle ‘till they started draggin’ ‘em off. Like nothin’ I’ve ever seen.” Pausing to look at his pocket watch, “Well, friend, lets head on over yonder I’d like a rest before the cow patty plops down.”
As the large brass valves swung the gate shut Ezrah finally saw what a ghost town the ‘Creek was. Not a soul in sight down the lane of shacks, most of which look to have seen better days with windows boarded up and roofs caved in from disrepair.
“Used to be so nice out here…”Sighing and scratching his eye-socket. “…Damn thing ain’t, never gonna heal, works a sight better though. Ha! Sometimes I even surprise myself with my wit.”
“I’m sure you do Jed,” Grumbled Ezrah,looking west “but that storm ain’t gonna wait till your done slack jawing. I thought we was in a hurry now”
“Right, right. Sorry.” Stifling his laugh, and opening the door to his little hovel. “Here we are good sir. Back to point: That’s got my men spooked, most of the ones that weren’t taken off have scattered to the four winds. I’ve even overheard the old wives’ tales of dragons in the earth waitin’ to pop up again and eat us all. That this mercury Tesla is having us get is the blood coming back to the source, awaking one.” Propping his feet up on two rackety chairs the veteran continues. “ Hogwash, but the men buy it. Just don’t see how they go from these little snots to a dragon.”
“I’ve heard tell of then taking lesser creatures at thralls, if you take the stories to heart. Something has these things acting out or sorts. So, what do you need me to do?”
“Well, first off get your gun ready. By my reckoning we got ‘bout five minutes till they pop their ugly little heads outta that cave.” Declared Jed, nodding at the red shadow moving closer.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
A work in progress, but here's a bit of a tease:
Quick Silver Creek, just another boom town on the dusty edge of a river bed…
Not even a big one at that. But, As Ezrah knew all too well, that’s where bad days and sleepless night were born. The trouble with life on the Borderlands is that they border on crazy. You never know what sort of beast or man you’ll find there. To a few that’s the joy, seeing giant spiders scurry across the plains, or play host to the few wild elves left for a night. To the rest it’s a nightmare, full of raiding goblins and other beast much worse, all gnashing teeth and angry eyes. It’s a wonder the Hex-guns can keep up. That’s what kept Ezrah going though, knowing he was the beacon of light to those out here, didn’t hurt that Tesla asked a favor of him.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
On a ledge
high upon the wall
sits a statue
grand and tall
A wonder to behold by all!
With chin held high,
eyes defiant and daring,
Its shoulders and feet
set square and true
holding the weight of the world evermore!
But look close
and you'll see the flaws...
A thumb print here(to make sure it stayed in place),
mismatch tone there (really,who cares?)
and many, many more.
All hidden, not laid bare.
look closer still
and you'll see
it was damaged long ago...
Dropped without care to the floor;
Beaten as a rag doll.
Packed away unwrapped,
left in the dark to rot.
Even tossed about in a box of rusty nails.
and nicks and scraps and bruises
all along the way
not sure if it was a push this time
or a fall
but really its been cracked all along...
Patched with mud and straw
time and time again
It was made thick,
yet broke again
and thicker still.
It never helped-
to much clay mashed on will only make a hollow thing cave in
This time things aren't the same...
Yes, the pieces are picked up,
are glued back together again.
Yet we find parts all shattered to dust
or ones that don't fit quiet right at all.
On the ground,
deep below the ledge the Proud One lays.
Patched and dejected
A wonder to behold by all!
With teeth clinched to the gum;
His back contorted and compressed,
His knees pushed too far in,
and His legs off kilter
He holds the weight of the world Evermore!
Look closer still
and you'll see more flaws
and love him still...
I'll stand right here,
with eyes unblinking
and heart beating in my chest
and admire His reflection evermore!
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
I plan on getting some of the poems I've written over the years on here and get some feed back(after I look up some html tags). I also plan on organizing my bullet point on a few worlds I've started creating and refine them;start digging deeper into the mythos locked in my mind(I know its there rattling around somewhere, dang it!).
I'm wanting to use this as a tool to expand my writing...to help me get better,lets face it while I love to write and whatnot, I'm not the best at getting the ideas across,but with practice and time I hope to fix that.I've no idea how to go about this but I have a friend or two on here who post Flash Friday stories...I'd like to start as well.Seems like a good chalange.
well, as late as it seems to some my day i just beginning.I've got things to do.So, once again,take care my friends. Don't forget to keep a look out for new blogs soon!
Ok, so I've found out I actually had this blog all along...
Not sure how many people know or care at this point(lol).I plan on getting on here more often.I'll add blogs as needed for separate worlds/writing styles.
This blog I'll be updating with whayever strikes my fancy from updates on other blogs to rants on the odd(and wonderfully colorful) people of Wal*Mart I see, or just pop in to say hi.
I do hope you find something enjoyable on your stop here my friends,and please, feel free to leave constructive criticism where needed.God knows I need all the help I can get!