Notice The Little Things

As the swallow flies through the clouds like a burning phoenix into the sun, the rays jump off the water like stones skipped off the surface. A rainbow forms from the overcast produced in the weather mixed with the sun settling comfortably above the water like a multicolored platform. People walk aimless around the cobblestone track that circles the fountain. The marble structure stands in the middle of the park, as it has for over 100 years. The fountain serves as this small town's foundation, it's loving character, it's heart. It's funny when there is something beautiful around, there is only silence in the air. The only breath you feel is the last rumble of the awe off the last vocal chord.
In the fountain is a couple. The couple are unknown, but there is various stories ranging from impractical anecdotes to probable situations. The most important is the mystery behind the couple. They represent the joy of the fountain, the love that the fountain brings to the area. The rainbow floats through the couples lips like a seal of forever. It forms an ever-lasting band, not only for the relationship, but for the honor of the city.

Otherside

I've been chased once again. I am being chased by him. He follows me in my dreams and to the bus stop when I breath. He looks up from the translucent window to stare back into my eyes. He grabs me by the throat as I couch up blood. He throws me into the den as the lions ravage my bones for a meal. He whips me when I am bare-backed and broken. He chases me into the burning room only to close the door. He is the right hand man when the left one is pulling me away. He is the nymphomaniac surrounded by gestures to relieve myself with the next worthy opponent. He is the world in my eyes that seems at bay, but in reality crashes like a tidal wave of flames. He is the devil underneath, the other one between the sheets. He is not me. He will never be me again.

Time To Pretend

There comes a time when reality really kicks in. You realize what your dreams are and that moment comes when you have to pursue them. You really realize what are really your dreams until they are out of your grasp. Unfortunately, I did not attack my dreams, or they didn't work our as quickly as possible, but I am stick young. I need to travel and I am going to vent my frustrations to the world in the form of a intellectual tidal wave.

I have been prompting myself for the impractical, but that will be no more. I am pursuing what is mine, and should be mine. Love has been lost and regained, just peering it's tiny rabbit head with a giant mutilating underbody. Never will I let myself fall through the legless abyss that I call the heartstrung rabbit hole. When I marry it will be to the next person I fall in love with. I feel as if I cannot let myself live correctly without it, but that seems pointless. Dont you think?

The dusty ambitions in my brain will be wiped off and kicked into full gear. The impractical thought process that I possess will become even more than practical, it will become a reality.

Elephant In The Room

Elephant In The Room

Alone again in this clouded space
Stranded in this love sick tomb
To overlook an honest truth
It’s the elephant in the room.
Aiding your denial,
Leaving you alone
Kissing your lips
Tasting your breath no more
The room grows closer with the fear
Fingernails singe into the mattress
My stomach is in knots
But I pretend to act like it’s gone
In fact, I am actually alone

You can’t overlook the fact that we were a pair
A pair of losers growing nowhere, but you left me drowned
Drowned in the noise, the sea of despair, surrounded by

The elephant in the room x4

Like an intricacy
You enticed my inner most thoughts
I stand before you on my knees
Begging you please
But it’s just fueling your fire
Fueling your walls
Instead of packing it in
You can pack your things and go
This you will eventually know
This loss is a looming void
An empty space
Overlooking the honest truth
Of the elephant in the room.

House of Mirrors

House Of Mirrors

I dig and dig and dig at my heart
Nothing seems to come out
Your wretched, fetched soul
Is all you’re about.

As time ticks
Through the labyrinth you have made
There is not a day, a day in the life
That I thought was too great.

I don’t know why you do it
You make me feel wrong
You make me feel alone
Just need a soul to sleep on

House of mirrors are no fun no more. It was you and I together before you walked out that door. I kissed your eyes goodnight as you hold on to my dreams. Forgetting my heart is ripping at the seams.

I looked for your face
On the back of the glass
The one smiling back at me
The one in love with me.

The glass appears half empty
and never half full.
I better where my hard hat
To protect myself from the true threat

Mirrors are all around me
I keep running into walls
I walk the halls
Just running into walls.

One Fine Day

Main words sandy come boring
Upon lower in delineated good-ranking
We come with sin, day die void as them
Build him, camps in worst zoo dens
Habanera wisen, die ire Filling die
Volley, die say per passed die sum
Inner thrills that is sung in
Melt balding august open this there
Great ranking die generating day die
Script like with other pens.
In man’s life is or so gross

We cement ego for in Zest

Southern day beginning to presume him alas

See Kentucky beginning to see time.

The Thin Flow

The sun came up

The water went down

And I took

A hard look around

Then, I saw him lyin’ there

Couldn’t believe what I saw

He was looking …50 miles offshore

And then he says



Son, just step away

From your mind

Look in the water

And far behind


I look down the beach

Towards the glistening sand

I seen the most beautiful girl

And she happened to be so grand

I thought to myself About what the old man said

And I couldn’t manage to

Get it out of my head


Son, just step away

From your mind

Look in the water

And far behind



I look to my left

My girl to my right

I was thinking

It’s going to be a long night

And what should I do with my life

Should I just get up and go

Instead, stayin here

I’ll take control



Son just step away

From your mind

Look in the water

And far behind

This Morning Was Nice

Today was a good day
Slept really well
Spread out the butter

Toast cooks brilliantly
Not time yet to bathe
Look

Television is on
Scan and run down
Outside the window

Squirrels nestle tightly in pairs
Remaining still
No time to glide

Walk out of the door
Sky smells wonderful
Stay tuned

Filled to the brim
No more bites
Work hears me coming.

Tainted Nature

As I look out to the lake I realize what I have done. I have taken my own life along with others. By others I mean I took my pride and others have come along with that.

The lake is so peaceful, very morbid. Life is a lot like a lake. At times, the lake can be wild and very bumpy like when being skied on or being occupied by boats. Then, at night when there is nobody on they’re besides maybe the teenagers hanging out in the water at night skinny-dipping. Other than that, the lake can be very placid and quiet.

The lake is also a lot like me. It can give and take lives. Water can help some plants grow and to provide a fun lifestyle for people of all ages, but it can also be a conductor for drowning victims.

The lake sits here quiet, bluish-green and flowing towards one side. It lays so smooth that it looks as if you could skip a rock on it for days.

The fish swim in the beautiful water day and night providing fishermen with something to do. It’s just another version of the water helping take a life or give life.

The fish are born in this water and provide for different life cycles in the depths of this blue body. On the other, hand it is a fishermen’s play ground. Sometimes a fisherman will throw it back, but many take it and eat it including myself. That would be thrown into the category of ending a life.

The night sky lies over the water and as I look into the endless lake I see beauty and life. The orange and blue sky seem to just go as long and the two bodies seem to connect to make this amazing ore that really makes one think about life and happiness throughout this crazy world.

Around the lake there seems to be green life in itself. In the murkier parts of the lake by the brim their lies cat tails and algae filled leaves. The frogs fling their sticky tongues towards the sky catching the lightning bugs. It looks as if the frogs are turning off a light in the sky or stealing a shooting star when they do this. Willow trees and long lawns off the lake houses sit freshly cut and taken care of well.

All the fresh smells of nature make me realize that life is important and everything is beautiful in its own right. So, whatever I have down and why I executed is coming back to sit in my stomach like a 30 pound hot rock and make me sick to it.

Rebuttal

You had your chance, you threw it all away
I need a break, was the right word to say

I found someone new, He’s better than you
I should have known, That’s the truth

I should have seen the signs, Of slowly drifting too
To the arms of another man, Wrapped around you

But your in luck, I’m actually ok
I am a lone rider, And this is what I say


Go Ahead! You devil woman, Get out of my life
I can go on my own, And find a new wife


You played me like a fool, I fell for it too,
The first major sign, That we fell through

Was when I looked at in that way,
And I didn’t even know what to say

I thought we had something, For a moment, this was true
Love was the first thing, that I got from you

But I want to thank you, Each and everyday
Because I don’t need you, And this is what I say

Don't Do As Others, Do As You

ree…….forming…….fools…….fall…….from…….facilities.

Faith…….from…….fools…….falls…….freely…….for…….fun.

Be…….bountiul…….because…….boys…….bout…….breathlessly

Become…….beautiful…….back…….before……..boredom

I…….I…….interchange…….initial…….inter-scopes…….inside

I…….I…….interfere…….internally…….I…….inform

Where…….we…….went…….was…….wild

Where…….we…….were…….was……..worthy

Don’t…….do…….as…….others

Do…….as…….you

Flying High

Flying so high above the clouds, it feels as if I can never come down from this magnificent heaven. If I fly high enough, can I reach it? On the other hand, why would I want to pass up that beautiful landscape down there? God has really has his work cut out for him in making something so astonishing.
The grass is a beautiful green and looks like a flowing river of color as I fly over it because of the swift speed that I’m traveling at. Also the trees almost look like, they should be part of the of the landscape, like when they were just sprouts. The leaves blend in with the grass at an overhead view. The only thing separating it is the brown of the dirt and wood.
Everything is just in unison with each other. Each piece of nature feeds off of each other like a parasite off of its host. Like a leach ,who just cant get that last drop of blood out of its delicious body that it’s been intertwined with. My eyes are the same way with the earth, the colors of nature all coming together in one to form the stunning harmony that should never be messed with or ever harmed.
The animals know that nature is the most beautiful object in the world. The scenery cannot be duplicated, especially this one. As I fly over this amazing sight I will always remember this moment as long as I live.

Berkeley In The Sixties

Berkley in the sixties was a time of change, of wonder, revolution, art, music, and free- speech, among many other things. Important figures, such as Mario Savio, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and Allen Ginsberg helped lead a movement that changed the history of our country for years to come. To fully dissect the situation of Berkeley in the sixties it will take observation of literary evidence and film footage. Although these pieces of footage are what is needed in present day to piece together the times during that era, it is safe to say that the activism still remains an important issue today.
The first issue you is the role of government in all the activism. To find a central understanding a more civil way could have come from their style of handling things. The government decided to use force, in which to succumb to the activists. The use of democracy could have been put to an honest effect in considerable fashion. Take the civil rights movement for example. The blacks were technically free, but oppressed. It is agreeable that everybody has the own rights, which includes refusing to sell to certain customers, but it’s human decency. If a law-abiding citizen comes into the store willing to purchase food, then they should have that right. Others did not think similarly. Dating back to the times of slavery, blacks were seen as savage people and less than an actual human. If a black American is allowed to attend school and succeed, then shouldn’t it be fair to allow them fair treatment throughout other characteristics of society?
A second issue is the role of the activists during the sixties. Martin Luther King Jr. stated, “We learned to swim the sea like fish, but we can’t learn to walk the earth as brothers and sister.” In other words, we learned as creatures to work together when forming as organisms, but now we can’t as different looking individuals. Ironic, that the civil rights movement, provided a political baptism with the hoses, which provided for public violence. Activists want to bring peace and equality into the sociopolitical order, but yet, students of Berkley feeling oppressed, surrounded a car a flipped it, on numerous occasions. Is this peaceful thinking? Does this spread equality? Activists are at fault for drawing, and inflicting, public violence to get there point across and the abolitionists from groups, such as the government and Operation Abolition should find a happier medium than striking these activists with high powered water hoses and splinter bound wooden Billy clubs. A simple form of peaceful thinking and discussion in a court room or something of a related matter settled this. Though it may take some extreme give from each wing. Both the left and the right wing, swallowing their pride, could have found a just equilibrium.

Do's, Will's, Should's

Should I be a teacher when I graduate?
Should I go for my Master’s?
Do I have enough money?
Do kids like change instead of candy for Halloween?
Will I have kids?
Will I get married?
Should I get a house?
Should I settle down?
Do I look like a guy who settles down?
Do you want to go to this party?
Will I talk to that girl?
Will she even like me for me?
Should I mingle with the crowd instead?
Should I think so much?
Do you think that girl likes me?
Do you think she looks like an alien from halo?
Will I study abroad?
Will I visit Europe?
Should I just live my life?
Should I ditch my girlfriend?
Do I want to work 40 hours a week?
Do job opportunities come with my major?
Will I keep my sanity with work?
Will I keep my sanity with her?
Should I rethink my life?
Should I just, live?

Stuck Inside These Walls

Stuck inside these walls again
Nobody’s gonna win this fight
When the boys come tumbling in
Nobody’s gonna treat her right

She’s looking for Mr. Right
Somebody to call her own
When he’s wished away
She makes her way back home

Chorus:
She’s stuck inside these walls again
Looking for a way out
When she’s with him
She’s in constant doubt
As she sails along
Deep into a mood
She knows change
Wont happen to soon

She has a sense of loneliness
floating on her mind
If you don’t let it through
It’ll get you every time

Just be patient, don’t let it bother you
It will come soon
You’ll have your time to shine
Just listen to my tune

Chorus

Listen to me baby
Don’t choke on every word
If you follow down the path
You’re bound to get hurt

Steer clear of the problems
You feel inside
Look on through the temptations
Triggering your mind

Haunting Father

Steve Zwilling Series of Unfortunate Events

“Go to bed, Jonathan! And I’m not going to tell you again!” slurs the mother, fresh off of her silly drunken slumber. Jonathan decides to stay up, seeing as it is only 6:30pm, guessing she would just crash ‘n’ burn into another deep intoxicated sleep soon.
The mother is not always like this. She developed this drinking problem around the time her husband died. She used to be a happy, loyal housewife that devoted her whole life to her husband. She was also a beautiful, petite woman with big blue eyes and long blonde hair.
Then, it happened. It was about 3 years ago today that her husband died. She remembers the day like it was yesterday.

The phone starts to ring at about 4pm which is usually the time her husband made his way home and sometimes he calls to see if he needs to pick any groceries up for dinner, so when the phone rings she sprints to the phone, like she is racing somebody to it.
Out of breathe and sighing with every word she speaks like a young asthma patient having an attack.
“Hello?” she says excited, yet worn-out.
“Mrs. Taylor, this is Mr. Burns from Burns Steel,” he says
“What is it, sir? Is there something wrong.” She says also concerned.
“Well Mrs. Taylor I don’t know how to say this, but…. ugh…” he chokes up momentarily, “Well, Mrs. Taylor its about your husband. He—He died in an electrical fire. I’m so sorry.”
Mrs. Taylor breaks into tears and calls her son Jonathan downstairs. The phone dropped to the floor as if she spikes it purposely. It bounces off the floor into three different, cream- colored pieces.
When Jonathan hears this he ran quicker than he usually came when his mom called him. He slips on his Tasmanian devil slippers with the hole in the right foot making the devil look like he got his eye ripped out and makes his way down the solid, oak staircase.
“What’s wrong momma?” Jonathan says.
“Honey, your father isn’t coming home for awhile,” Mrs. Taylor says sobbing, barely getting the sentence out.
“What do you mean momma?” he says alarmed.
“Well honey, there was an accident at work and he didn’t make it,” she says.


“Go next door and have Mr. Wilson buy me a pint of Brandi’s.” Mrs. Taylor says to her son as she chokes on a cigarette. She just started and she hacks as if she has too much phlegm clogging her throat passage.
Jonathan makes his way to school and he runs into his principal.
“Get to class Mr. Taylor or you have a detention this afternoon.” Mr. Jones says so nonchalantly.
Mr. Jones is a bigger man that looks as if he has eaten breakfast, lunch, dinner, and then did over again everyday his whole life. He has a comb over and he wears knickers and penny loafers along with his suede vest and tie. He also sweats more than any normal human being.
Like, an honest student Jonathan makes his way around the corner to his class until he is out of Mr. Jones’ sight and then he dashes for the bathroom. Then, BAM! He runs clean into something in the hallway, but there is not a thing there. There is not a locker, a person, or even a drinking fountain. It is just like oxygen solidified for that brief moment. The hallway is like any other hallway in a school. It was filled with different color squares inside of a blue border to the sides of the hall. It smelled as if it was freshly waxed although it was caked with dust and dirt. So, generally it was very dry so he couldn’t have slipped on the floor.
Confused, he gets up, brushes himself off, and then makes his way into the bathroom, thinking what that could have been that left him flat on his ass.
When he gets into the bathroom. He walks up to the second urinal of four, pulles his pants down, and began to do his deed. When Jonathan’s done, He turns around and again BAM! It happened again! He hit something that makes him fall right towards the ground. He fell right into the urinal this time though, soaking his butt from the bottom to his belt line.
“God damnit!” he says in a rage, “What the fuck is that and how the fuck does it keep knocking me over?”
Seeing as he was already late he sits still in the bathroom for the duration of time until his pants dry, reading the writing on the stall walls. “John loves Jane 4E,” and “H.G, 4-5-07,” he reads the writing in the stall he was waiting in.
He washes his hands and looks into the mirror to see if his hair was ok. Jonathan has this dirty blonde kind of hair that really bothers him because it is awfully curly so he tries to use gel to mat it down. Unfortunately, the gel never works correctly, so he has to keep up on the matting. Behind him the stall doors start to move interchangeably, but he is the only present in the lavatory. It’s like when crept through the bathroom moving these stall doors.


“What the hell happened?” Mrs. Taylor thought to herself, “Where in the fuck is Johnny with my damn pint?”
Then, she realizes he is at school. He was always a good kid. Very independent and has his head on straight. She is very proud of him. On the other hand, he doesn’t listen to her when she needs him to do something.
“Well I guess I’ll just go get it myself,” she thought.
“Shit, where are my car keys?” she says rifling through her pockets and found them in her coat.
“Ah, here they are.”
When she steps out of the house she hits something and falls down abruptly. Still drunk from the night before, it takes her awhile to gather herself enough to get up.
“What the fuck?” she mutters and looking around, but there is nothing there. It is like she hit a huge invisible wall that is made out of pure steel. So, she continues down the blue-painted wooden steps that sits in front of the porch like old dried up pieces of plywood that would break if stepped on wrong.
She pulls out of the driveway and notices all the buses. This meant she observing that Johnny should be on his way home from school. In a daze, she continues down the road to the liquor store on the corner. It goes by the name of Bob’s Beer House. Ironically, named this because they have the slimmest selection of beer in town. As she walks in the store, she is looking at all the kids passing and disappointed in herself because she wonders if her drinking has an effect on Johnny since the passing of his father.
Johnny always seemed irritated and quiet with his mother. She, although in her drunken state, still realized when something was bothering her son. Mr. Taylor was a big part of Jonathan’s life and still is, even after his passing.
She asked for her 8-dollar pint of Brandi’s and jingled through the change in her pockets like she was trying to make a bizarre melody with the coins and finds some dollar bills at the bottom.
“Here you go.” she said. Then, she makes her way to the front door.
Before she got to the door a wild man barrels in bearing a gun in his left hand.
“Give me the god damn money and you get down!” he shouts very demandingly, “No, fucking around lets go! Lets go! Lets go!”
Willingly the cashier did it and threw him the bag of money. Quickly, the man runs away and right before he hit the front door he just falls backwards. It looked as if he slammed into the window on the door or an invisible wall, like she had earlier.
“What the fuck?” said the Robber.
He gets up quickly brushes himself off and continues to the door. As he gets there, he runs to his car and starts it. Right as he pulls away, he has to swerve around her car because she didn’t park to respectable in front of the store. My front end is sticking out into the street and kids on their bikes have to keep going around it. The car looked as if she cut the wheel way to early while parallel parking and just satisfied herself with that.
All of a sudden, outside there is an atrocious sound of screeching tires and busting glass.
“O shit! Shit, shit, shit!” yells the robber as he jumps around his open door.
As she runs out she sees a bike twisted up under the car and the feet of a child lying motionless on the ground sticking out in front of the car. She makes her way over there to see if there is something she can do. When she gets there she couldn’t believe her eyes. It is her beautiful baby boy. Johnny lay there motionless on the ground. “Speak to me honey, speak to me!” she says crying, kneeling to his side. “Not another one! God please no.”

A sound of loud sirens and heavy-duty engines comes barreling around the corner. It was an ambulance and a fire engine. The fire engine is from the local firehouse engine 45. The lights were reflecting off the car along with the sun. it was almost blinding to look at. The puddle of blood the boy lays in is also a heavy conductor of the reflection of the lights.
The paramedics and firemen came out and asks questions and tends to the boy. Speaking his name trying to get his attention
“Hey, Buddy, Hey!” says the firemen, but there was no response.
He turns to Mrs. Taylor and asks “Whats his name?”
“His name is Jonathan, It- It’s Jonathan,” she said in a quivering voice.
The fireman continues to yell his name, but there is no response and so they try C.P.R and to revive him.
The paramedic’s pump on the kids chest, as if they are trying to collapse his rib cage, he was a rather large boy so this is required. After several failed attempts, the paramedic gets up with a stern look on his face, wipes the sweat from his brow, and signals the fireman to come over.
Mrs. Taylor stands in the arms of a stranger who trying to comfort her, nervous as a mother would or should be. She is trembling and sweat is beading down her face like rain drops on a windowpane.
“Is he alright? Sir?,” she said.
The paramedic looks at her walks a rather significant distance and then looks away and announces:
“Time of death, 3:35pm.”
Mrs. Taylor drops to her knees as if she is purposely trying to shatter them and starting mourning for Jonathan. She looks at him lying there and decides to crawl over to him. She looks like she is an infant who can’t walk yet. When she does get to him she holds him with blood all over her body from his. She rubs her red stained hands through his hair.
“It’s ok baby, It’s ok, momma is here,” she said crying.
The professionals have to grab her and separate Jonathan from her, which is like pulling a leg from a bear trap. She held on to him as tight as she could and continued to yell at the top of her lungs in bereavement.
The paramedics put him into the body bag and go through with the necessary procedures. Then, they continued to express their regards to Mrs. Taylor and go on their way and Mrs. Taylor lies in a puddle of her son’s blood, weeping in her own sorrows while strangers are caring for her. She looks up as if something called to her and sees a shadow-like, figure following the back of the truck as it pulls away.

“The funeral was nice,” said Mrs. Taylor’s sister, Penelope, while sitting in the car after Jonathan’s funeral.
“Yes, it was,” states Mrs. Taylor.
Penelope’s car sits running in the driveway of The Taylor house and she continues to tell her sister, if she needs anything to call her as soon as possible. Mrs. Taylor expresses that she will be all right for now, but she thanks her for the offer. Penelope drive’s away leaving Mrs. Taylor alone to walk up to her vacant house. Without a son or a husband she feels alone in the world. She felt as if God is punishing her for something she did wrong in the past.
She looks at the dead grass in the front yard as she walks up the driveway. The grass sits so yellow and brown. It looks as if death himself came up and draped his cold lifeless hand across the top of it.
“This is awful looking,” she says disgusted.
Then, she walks up the same tattered wooden steps as before and has the similar thoughts as before. When she gets into the house she feels the vacant nature of the house. Feeling hungry she makes her way into the kitchen and proceeds to make dinner for herself. She pulls out some chicken and throws some corn into a pot on the oven. Then, she continues to pull a pint of Brandi’s out of the freezer and continues to pour that into a glass that she pulled from the cupboard. The cupboard was filled with empty pints and dust that she has to maneuver around, just to get a glass.
When she turns she saw an image appear in front of her face, but then in a flash it whisked its way on up through the ceiling. Nervous, she runs into the living room and grabs a barbecue scour that lies in front of the fireplace. The scour was long and black with a sharp end.
The figure that showed up in front of her looked like a floating black shadow that just has more detail to it. It looked as if a man outlines himself in black and pulled all the rest of his body off and continued to move around like that successfully.
“What the fuck is that?” she says scared for her life.
Upstairs there is a violent crash. It’s sounds as if there is somebody up in the bedroom throwing objects in the room around or that there is some kind of party and people are crashing. Interested and nervous at the same time Mrs. Taylor slowly creeps up the steps making sure not to be heard. She finally gets to the room and calls out the first thing that came to mind. Immediately regretting her decision.
“Hello?” she said, “Is anybody there?”
When she got fully into the room the door slams shut and there stands a figure. The figure like downstairs, but in more detail because she stands closer.
“Who-Who are you?” she says quivering in fear.
The spirit than forms to a vibrant bluish glow and the image of her husband came to be in front of her. He looked as if he just got back from a wedding or a proper event. He is young and dressed up in a suit. His hair is slicked back with the grease he used so much when he was alive and he had a smile that went on for days.
“Hello, honey,” he says, “How are you?”
She stands in shock not saying a word and Mr. Taylor begins to laugh.
“Now, come on now, honey it’s me.”
“No, No it cant be,” she said confused, “Your dead.”
“Yes, Yes I am, sweetheart, but that’s no reason to be scared,” he said laughing still.
He walks up to her as if he were a real person. There was no floating or hovering like a typical ghost stereotype. He walked up to her like a normal person of the flesh.
“Now, listen to me baby,” he says, “Jonathan is alright. He is with me now. We needed him up here and he fits right in and he’s happy. Do not worry about him.”
“How can I not worry about him? He is my baby--.” She says quickly and upset.
“Shh, Shh, don’t over work yourself. I got him up here,” Mr. Taylor says smiling.”
He hugs her and holds her as she cries into his suit that he is wearing. She hugs him back so hard, but loving at the same time. She missed him so much it hurt her to even live another day without him.
“I tried to prevent you from problems baby,” he says
“What do you mean?” she questions him.
“Do you remember when you ran into something before you went to the store?” he says.
“Yes-“ she says confused
“Well that was I. I was trying to prevent you from trouble, but there is only so much I can do at one time,” he says, “I cannot fully prevent you because I will be messing with the scheme of things. However, there are some loopholes that I found, but I can only get in your way, not fully stop you. I did it to Johnny too”
“What did you need to do these things for?” She asked him.
“Well baby, the way you guys were living your life was inappropriate and appalling,” he said concerned, “That was the only way I could stop you guys from going down the wrong path. You were making Johnny unhappy and ruining yourself. I just had to but in and try to keep you from walking into bad situations.”
“Well, why didn’t you help Johnny then?” she questioned him.
“Because it was his time baby,” he said, “I hate to say it, but it was. You were supposed be coming too, but I prevented it. When that robber ran into something in the store that was I. His intentions were to turn around and shoot you and the clerk, but I threw his mind off by getting in his way.
“Well, I still don’t understand why you didn’t help Johnny!” she said very upset.
“Sweetheart, I tried, but he was hit before I could get to him. It just didn’t work out in our favor, but it’s time for me to go. I love you.”
He began to disappear into the shadows and then Mrs. Taylor began to yell.
“No! No! NO!” she screams.
Then, she hears his voice, but could not see her husband. It sounded as if he was on a stereo system talking to her from a higher altitude.
“It’s ok baby, I will see you soon enough,” he sas to her confidently, “Live happy for me.”

Unfair Chromosones

Torn to smithereens,

by a misogynistic swine

She rumbles through the streets of Brooklyn,

feeling the eyes of every flesh colored human,

Within the outlooks, under the divine sky.

She comes to a loading dock where more men

Hoot and holler at her womanly physique

“Can I get some of that sweet ass?”

No money

No Coat

Sandy Feet

Decked out in her waitress uniform,

she looks like a stewardess, fancied with an apron

Muddy water splashes her face as a horse carriage passes

with a newly married couple.

James Brown screams, “It’s a Man’s World” on the radio,

she starts to believe it.

The Euphoric Flower

As the young man walked flawlessly and aimlessly into the mist he couldn’t help but notice an interesting plant that had a wild, but distinctive glow.
He walked up to the plant and took a long, hard look at it and realized it had a bulging bass that the majority of the glow was consolidated at.
“This is like nothing, I have ever seen before,” he said. Then, he continued to look around embarrassed. Dissecting the plant by picking it with a hard stick he snapped off a deciduous tree that rested above his head. A pungent juice came out filling the air around him with sparkling objects and glitter like objects. He didn’t seem to have an idea what to do.
He consumed the heavy fumes that irradiated the air and felt his body come to a euphoric float. Tingling feelings, loss of senses, aimless wondering; he didn’t know what to do with himself. He has never felt anything like this before. The plants mystically aroma helped enhance all of the man’s inner feelings.
His brain was racing with ideas. His body felt like he couldn’t be harmed. Everything in the area was amazing and beautiful. He was on cloud nine and some.
As he walked down the long lonely road a group of dancing gnomes jumped out at him dancing. Behind them were, flowing colors and vibrant patterns that seemed to chase there every movement.
The gnomes sang a song as they pounced around the road. It was a unique sound that filled his head with laughter and consfusion. It sounded as if a symphony orchestra was playing in fast forward, but in key. The words they were repeating were loud and mystical, “Ta Tomda Ta Da Do.”
Continuing down the road he sees the colors bounce of the trees. The feeling expressed is just an intense euphoric high, but more potent. He can actually feel the heart of nature mixing with his mind.
As he gets to a clearing, he notices there is a deep hole in the middle of these crossroads. He glances in the hole and he sees its filled with water. The water seems to be occupied by several distinct looking fish. Fish that he has never in his life observed with his own eyes. The fish were two different colors.
The first set of fish were of a darker red. It could be closely related to blood or cranberry juice. Where as the second set of fish were a light blue almost teal.
He couldn’t help, but stare at the fish and was amazed at what he saw. With a brush of curiosity he stuck his hands into the clear water and felt around hoping to grab one of the glowing beauties. Finally, after a draw period, he got a hold of one.
As he took the fish out of the water, the man heard words uttered, which caused him to stand still. Iinstintcively, he looked around the road and saw nobody. It was just him nestleiing the fish in his fingers. The man felt a vibration the the fish, so he looked down and noticed that was where the faint sound of words was coming from.
Startled, his eyes grew wider and his body remained still. He listened to the fish closely, “9” said the fish. Confused, the man went to set the fish back into the water, but the fish transformed into blood in his hands.
Nervous because of a childhood fear of blood, the man hurried to wash the blood off in the water. So he buried his hands into the water and rinsed the blood off, but then felt a bite on his finger. It was not painful, but it was startling so he pulled his finger out of the water and he had a blue fish stuck on it. He gently grabbed the blue fish off his finger and placed it into his hand. Again, the fish started speaking, “Second door.” Then, it vanished into thin air.
He gazed at his hands in amazement and trying piecing what just happened together. Remaining confused he just continued on down the lonlely road.

Watch What You Do!

At the tender age of ten
The boy strikes painfully to the floor
Father yelling, “Get up boy!”
But the boy lay there, as if there was no more

The boy turns eleven
On a Sunday afternoon
“You’re the definitive burden,”
The father throws his revolting shoes.

The boy leans into the closet
Moving t-shirts and jeans
He’s searching for happiness
Through a metal barrel covered in jeans

The boy loads the gun and
Barrels out of the wooden door
“I’ve had enough father,
Need I say more.”

The father takes a look and
Peaks to a laugh
But the problem he’s facing
Is that will be his last

The boy fires the bullet
Through the old man’s chest
“How do you like me now!”
He says with the gun just above his breathe

“That will teach you to strike me or haze me”
All you had to do was hug me and behave with me
Watch what you do for the time now
It could be the last, last in the town.

Goodbye

Goodbye to my childhood dream of being a professional hockey player- hockey photo
Goodbye to my first girlfriend-
Goodbye to my first day of elementary school- draw a bobcat
Goodbye to my first day of middle school- draw a panther

Goodbye to my first kiss-
Goodbye to my first sexual experience-
Goodbye to my first day of high school- draw jaguar
Goodbye to my innocent liver- draw liver and beer bottle

Goodbye to my tender lungs- draw pack of cigarettes
Goodbye to hockey- picture of high hockey photo
Goodbye to my first serious girlfriend-
Goodbye virginity- Draw Dove and Lily

Goodbye heartbreak- draw breaking heart
Goodbye to my first day of college- Something Eastern
Goodbye to friends I will never see again- bus driving away
Goodbye to on-off dating

Goodbye to living in fear
Goodbye to indecisiveness
Goodbye to boredom
Goodbye to college peculiarly achieve

Hello Life, I’m ready for you now.