Posts Tagged ‘story’

Hello dear reader,

How are you?

Me, apparently cannot sleep, I’ve been tossing and turning and finally, at 3 am, I decided to stumble into my new, furnitureless living room from my new furnitureless bedroom and write my brain into a tired frenzy so it’ll let me fall fast to sleep.

Sometimes, okay, a lot, my brain decides it wants to think, random crap I can’t change, but bam, why not!

The other night, it decided to throw a girl I had a secret crush on back in elementary school as a “walk on” role in a dream.

It also decide, hey, why not throw a couple of friends in there along with my kid who isn’t even a dirty thought.

Great dream but then I wake up and go, WHAT DA HELL BRAIN?

“I don’t know, it seem right!!” It replies, shrugging as only a brain can only shrug with its lack of shoulders.

If it had eyes, it would have rolled them and said, “Thought you’d like it!!” It sighs, again if it had eyes, it would wink, and grin evily if it had a mouth.

My brain does that weird crap at 2 am, conversates with me, keeping me from sleep, it has done it for a long time, random stuff, things I have no control over, people I miss, people I haven’t thought about in 30 years, but there they are, asking how I am.

“Not too good!” I reply.

So here I sit now, legs crossed, my fingers tapping at my phone’s keyboard, writing poems randomly, letting my brain do its muttering, words flying on screen, hopefully I will fall asleep, 3:30 am, hopefully soon.

I write.

Damn brain, why won’t you calm down?

“Provide the link! To our poetry!”

CLICK HERE TO READ MY RANDOM POETRY – NEWLY MINTED! 3 AM!!

So there, my brain, the link, are you happy now??

“Quite!”

Good night my readers, sleep well…..zzzzzzzz

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Dearest readers,

It is another night and another piece I have written, which you can find the link to below!

FOR MOTHER LAND: “We deeply regret to inform you…” – A POEM

A lot of my poetry, works of fiction, mostly just arise from me, wanting to be shared, from someplace, and if I feel like it (truthfully, sometimes I just want to hide under my covers and not lift them up till forever, which, sadly, has been happening a lot lately!!) I sit down and begin writing them down either on the old trusty laptop or a note pad.

Most times, when I write these pieces, I’m feeling pretty bright and cheerful but the words are far from that point of view; the words can be dark, almost too dark, but they need to be sent out into the world.

I try to share; sometimes I think there is another world, somewhere, trying to speak and my mind is the only one listening.

If that’s the case, this piece is from some young lad, barely in his twenties, which war, I have no clue, any war will do.

Into madness,
We saw ourselves go,
Propelled there by our might,
Our own will,
Our eyes held closed,
Against the blinding of the light,
Bombs bursting in air,

One of the lines from the poem, it just popped into my mind as I sat at the kitchen table and opened my notebook, the same notebook holding my “Homeless diary” as well, I’ve kept it as a notebook for my life, jotting things down as they come to me.

Someday I hope to get it published.

Someday again, another of those things that very rarely ever comes, like tomorrow, it never comes.

We stand there and wait, someday, tomorrow, echoes from our past, our father’s words,
our mother’s, children, does not matter, tomorrow, that mythical beast, we are forever in pursuit of it, to the grave.

So we should, it is written, live for today, keep the memories alive, but only peek at them sparingly, to live in the here and now, something I need to learn to do myself.

Good night my dear friends, until I speak with you again….

02/25/2018 – Someplace on the Planet Earth

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Dear sirs and madams,

Hi!

How are you?

I keep waking up breathing, which according to the doctors, is a good thing.

“Yay for waking up breathing!” cheers the nurses who stand by to stick me in the arm, to draw my blood, that life force that keeps me breathing, I guess.

I’m not a doctor though.

I’m barely a human being; just the skin and such, to make me able to walk among the hairless apes unseen by their unintelligent eyes.

If they saw my true form, they would still go about their daily business.

CLICK HERE FOR MY NEWEST POEM – INFORMED INSANITY – A POEM TO READ IN A CLOSET WHILE THE DEVIL STEALS YOUR BUILDING BLOCKS

So, after my ordeal of being pricked and prodded, I lay here, half naked, a flimsy robe covering my nakedness, the nurse coming in on the hour to see if I need a sleeping pill.

Oh no you don’t mind sucking demon from the Planet X’Neon!!! I’m on to you.

I’ll stay up and write, to tell the outside world about you, to tell them how you steal minds, put them in jars, to sell to the Martians or trade Iranians for free porn on Craigslist.

I’m on to you!!!

EAT LASERS ALIEN SCUM!!!

My fingers are registered deadly weapons in 17 universes and 23 alternate universes, including this one.

You just don’t know you’re dead!!

Ha ha!! FOOLS!!!!

Do you know, that, when a cat shows you their belly, you should scratch it?

This tells the Universe, I’M DONE, I’m so gone, I don’t care if the cat kills me!!

And the cat will respond by purring or stealing your wallet and go on a spending spree!!

Stupid cat.

I only have  a $1.95!!

Anyways think it’s time to fall asleep, to meet her there in dreamland.

She knows who she is!!!

Your friend,

ME!

 

 

Into the silence of the night,  we went quietly, without delight, our main objectives were to kill; to destroy, that enemy we came upon.

Our mission location: Somewhere, no one was sure except  it was on a distant planet far from Earth, hostile desert, unfit for human habitation.

“Az! Az!” someone whispered.

Az equaling alien zone; behind enemy lines.

We stayed low to the ground; our eyes peering forward into the cold dark night; not a word was spoken, we knew what our actions were, kill and destroy.

Always kill and destroy.

The silence grew deafening; I felt a drop of sweat roll down my face and drop to the ground.

“Watch!” Sarge growled low under the silence, “Where the fuck is our watch?”

I slipped up to where he was crouched.

“Dead sir….”

“Fucking command didn’t send us our replacement?”

I shook my head.

Another growl.

Tyler was our watch; good man, fought bravely in our last fight against the Grogs; nasty creatures, bug like, the only good Grog is a dead Grog, or so they kept yelling at us in boot camp.

This war had been going on for too many generations; one day the truce talks are a go, the next day, we were out in the barren lands, the scrubs, trying to find the dirty bastards.

No one really knew why we were fighting them; we just were, forward march, rifles at the ready, steady forward, kill, kill, move forward again till the heads upstairs in base orbit command say back; new peace talks.

Rinse and repeat.

I peered further past into the darkness, not a thing crept into view.

“Where are the bastards?” Sarge again growled under his breath, staring off as well into the silence of the night.

“Sleeping?” I kidded, smiling, for some strange reason.

Mick, our communication man, slipped beside me.

“We got nothing broadcasting sirs! Not even the usual clicks!”

Somewhere, out there, they were creeping their way towards us, silently making their way to our doom; we knew it, a Grog was never silent unless they were stalking.

I held my rifle hard into my chest; feeling the hard pounding of my heart; Sarge kept peering into the darkness.

“Them fuckers are out there; somewhere!”

Two hours; still not a peep.

Still I held close to the ground.

This was watch, someone had to do it.

“Go to sleep bugger; I’ll take over for watch!” Mick said, creeping up beside me.

I never could sleep out here; in the shit, always kept an eye open, an ear.

“Okay!” I smiled and fell into a semi-slumber.

Morning.

Rations of beans and crackers for breakfast.

Food supplies were making their way from Earth; be awhile before they arrived.

“Any contact?” Sarge asked settling down beside us.

“Not a thing sir!” Mick replied; shoveling a helping of beans into his mouth. “Do you think they retreated sir, in preparation for the next talks?”

Sarge shrugged.

“They haven’t in the past!” he said.

His eyes still scanning the terrain.

“We’ll move forward; get the men up and lets move out; our stomachs can wait till later!”

And so we moved forward; not even a whisper between us, our eyes scanning the horizon for signs of anything.

We marched; the unbearable heat of the sun beating down upon us, but still we hunted.

Four hours in; still no signs, we kept marching forward.

There, in the distance, the capital city of the cursed Grogs began to appear.

“There should be….something….anything!” Sarge said, his hands pulling up his rifle.

There was nothing; just the spirals of towers in the distance; a slight haze of smoke drifting over the horizon.

We kept marching forward.

Silence.

Not even a horn-bug flying over us; not even a chirp of a bird.

“Where the hell…”

We didn’t hear even a shell till it was too late.

A blast of laser fire ripped through Sarge’s chest; cutting his sentence short.

“Fuck!” was thrown out from my lips as I dove to the ground.

Mick was hit next; straight between the eyes.

He never uttered his last words as his body hit the ground.

“Fire! All fire!” I screamed, signaling hard in the general direction of where I thought the alien scums were.

Our rifles flared into the air; I heard a scream, high pitched.

“We got one!” someone yelled.

“Keep it up!!!” I yelled, my rifle firing repeatedly.

15 minutes; the battle raged.

We killed thirty seven confirmed.

We lost four.

COMMUNICATION DIRECTIVE 487 – ALL UNITS –

It is with great joy that we; the Terra Front; declare new peace talks with the Grogean Alliance in a hope to soon end this war that rages between our two species.  

As of this afternoon, 12:47 Gorgon Time, a cease fire is under order and all units are to disengage any further hostilities and are to report back as soon as possible to their base points of operation for further instructions.

Commander in Chief 

I read the communication; a deep sigh parting my lips.

I knew the drill.

I knew it all too well.

Again, we marched, two days across the heated oven of a desert, to be told that the peace talks folded, once more, but that was our destiny, march, forward, backwards, and if we were lucky, to die a valiant death; our rifle bursting forward, taking a few of them alien scum with us!

 

 

 

01/18/2018 – Random Writing at 4 AM – Another Poem?

Inside my mind; I do find myself – not against the rage but not in peace either; the waves do crash upon the shore again; it is peaceful even in that storm, to hear the breaks, the rage.

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Sometimes I wonder though if this life is even worth that rage.

A NOTE TO MY DEAR READERS: 

I wrote a piece tonight; at 3 AM, at a different site – Random Writings at 3 AM(Click! READ!!!) 

My mind is awake; keeping me awake in body and soul, so I write to amuse you; TO AMUSE MYSELF, I dare say, to pull from me that place words, to place upon the screen to let you read that which is inside my head; inside my brain.

Photo0047Here in the world; the darkness of the late night or early morning; I know not what, it matters to your perception; I begin to write, silly things, my words, thrown together quite madly, nothing in design or planning; random words typed quickly before they are lost to that insanity; no rhyme or reason I should say.

A memory interloped into the mess: not THAT far away in time but enough to make me realize, I am old, middle aged.

I was in high school, memorizing the passages of darling buds of May; henceforth a love done lost, to wishes and dreams unloved; is not that reality better to live, to breathe, to see, to feel that heart break then never to have loved before?

Memories trance themselves into view randomly; as if in a dream, I shall sleep soon, I believe, I shall see the faces of those who dance among the cerebral consciousness of myself, in that dream land, peeking out from here and there; tonight my dear readers is but a mess, of randomness.

My English teacher; throwing pages down upon my desk; a composition in my first madness.

‘Unbelievably dull characters; nothing seems alive, dead! Dead! Dead! F!’ she wrote upon it; in red. ‘You’ll never be more than what you are!’

I never understood, I still don’t; it’s impossible to be more than what you are; unless you break the laws of time and space; split the universe in half, rip reality into ninths and shit upon it all!!

But I digress, sweet readers, I do not know where my mind will take us; into madness, into love, into that sweet embrace of timeless wonders; that first kiss, that first date, that moment of first joy of release, though I shall not say that first fuck!

Words do drift out; could this be the end or the beginning?

I do not know; let us begin; said the joker to the king.

We all wears masks; we hide the reality, it is easier that way; the characters do drift in and out of our lives; and make us happy, sad, indifferent, etc. etc. etc.

This is how it shall be; the beginning, the middle and the end.

The holy trinity!

Good night; till tomorrow, I am forever indebted to you, dear reader, as you share with me; this journey through time and space; Good night!!!

 

Cheap beer and steel guitars,
Whiskey and lonely hearts,
Broke down in San Antonio,
Drinking time in old down towns,
Looking for a good time,
Finding nothing but a broken heart,
Cheap perfume
And lonely eyes,
Living the honky time life,
Bar flies and worn out trucks,
Drinking time,
Anytime,
Pull up a stool and shoot the breeze,
Closing time is far away,
Don’t mind ole Montana,
He down on his luck,
Found a woman,
She did a buck,
Run away with a rodeo clown,
Broke his heart,
And now he sits at the bar,
Trying to find a replacement heart,
Drinks his lonely heart beer run,
Texas born,
Down on his luck,
He hears the jukebox play,
Ole Same is on his way,
Lonely hearts
And cheap motels,
Only wine can heal it fine,

Beer makes it televised!!

I have traveled somewhere and got lost in a book store once. It may have been in Lexington, Kentucky. It was wonderful!

I need to write tonight, I am very tired, not necessarily physically, mostly mentally!

I’m trying to be a good boy, I didn’t kill anyone today!

I may have beaten some customer with a loaf of day old french bread and may have shoved a ten pound turkey up their butt.

Cashiers can get cranky when they skip nap time and then have a customer screech, “This turkey should have rang up at $12.95, not $12.96.”

DO YOU FEEL THE PENNY NOW MY FRIEND!!!!  I scream, shoving pennies by the bucket full down their throats. I AM RHAK, WARRIOR GOD!!! DIE PAGAN FILTH!!!

This gets you a visit to HR.

“Do you think that it was appropriate to scream….” reads transcript from the video surveillance “You have awaken the evil inside of me that has slept for a thousand years!?”

I shrug and then reply, “Maybe, the entire scene needs to be viewed in its entirety, it’s a master piece in English Norse Theater!”

“Does shoving a bottle of $18.45 wine down the customer’s throat while screaming, TO THE WHORES OF YOUR MOTHER’S WOMB compile into this theater script?”

I nod.

“We’ve had 58 complaints today about you!”

I smile.

“That’s down from yesterday, gotta admit, it’s an improvement!”

“GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!!”

Also, my brains are turning to mush.

People don’t realize the fun of being a cashier.checker.dragon slayer.

We stand there for hours, scanning your otter pops, control top pantyhose, and $4.95 a box condoms.

“Pick up a pregnancy test as well, same aisle!” I smile, fake of course. Checkers don’t have real smiles, just like they don’t have souls anymore.

They sold theirs for a box of cereal.

I sold mine for some Raisin Bran.

Nummy for the raisin bran!!

Course, standing there, you get to think, deep thoughts, deep, deep thoughts, like —

  • I really must have done something wrong in a previous life, maybe killed a whole bunch of babies. Maybe I was Hitler. Or a Pharaoh of Egypt, one of the evil ones, who killed a whole bunch of babies.
  • Why did I go to college for?  “Hot babes, lots of drugs!” my brain responds.
  • Do cashiers really get laid a lot like the recruiter said?
  • What is “Getting laid”? Will I ever see a really life naked vagina again?
  • “Probably not, loser!” my brain responds. “You should have stayed in school, became a doctor of literature or underwater basket weaving.

Seeing my old professor from my college days brought back some of those memories, of college frat parties, girls, girls, men, men, more men, no wait, wrong flashbacks!!!
Professor was head of the humanity department, I took his history of the 20th century world, and learned to question authority or do drugs.

I don’t remember.

If you remember college, you did it wrong.

Or maybe that was the 1960s.  I forget.

“Hi! Been a long time!!” I said.

He beamed.  “Did you take my classes, what was your name again?”

I told him.

“I remember you, you were the smart ass in seat 7 row A!”

I nodded.

We both laughed.

I told him about my adventures as an IT monkey for the mafia or a casino in the middle of a corn field, my descent into madness AKA retail.

“You should write a book!! I’m working on one!” he nodded and then we had to part ways.

It’s always nice to see old professors and teachers so they can see where their prized students landed.

“You were my hope…” one of them almost cried at me, running away in tears.

If I’m your hope, you’re f*cked!

I wasn’t his real hope, he was going senile, his wife explained to me later, but if it made me feel better, worst, whatever, then go ahead and believe it.

I’m a hope!!!