can_we_possibly_be_friends_again_or_conflicted_codependent

Being male, I wander

Mom dares not wonder

What kind of monsters she birthed

She brought her own equipment

I was aggressive but shy

 

Her womb is the most magnificent

Temple I’ve ever visited

There is nowhere else I want to be

Sister insisted

I stiffened then gave in

 

Children tease, squeal, scamper

Adults know unspeakable reality

Dizziness of first love

Mayhem, murder

Solemn whisper of infinity

 

After an uncertain age,

No one wants you anymore

Old women bond

Confer their anger

Old men tread alone

 

She knew from moment he laid eyes on her, she had him. She wore no make-up, anemic complexion, chin and jawline slightly broken out with red spots, cobalt blue irises, aquiline nose, hair dyed dark, fuzz-balled scarf, light blue fluffy sweater, big buttons, canvas shoulder bag, skinny jeans, leather boots, little boney black dog with ashen appointments. Instantly he fell in love. He confessed, “Your Chinese Crested pup stole my heart.”

 

In doggie-style position, neither lover sees other’s face. The top sees backside. The bottom sees what? He didn’t know.

 

She unlocks the door. He enters room. She tells him what to do, making demands. He follows her orders. She questions, “Why do we dance to these tunes?” He answers, “I want to smell your smells, suck, drink your darkest juices.” She articulates, “Stay,” then kisses him goodbye. She wakes wearing his ring, around her neck. They are each other’s slaves. Ceiling leaks, floor creaks, light beams through window as they waltz arm in arm.

 

She demands, “I want roast rack of lamb, or thinly sliced Serrano ham on buttered toast for dinner. And then I want to go home alone. I need some down time, away from you. I don’t belong to you, god-damn-it!” Deep in financial debt, he hands the waiter his debit card.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

successful.

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Can’t Live Without You: Book 1

Crying into a pillow all day seems like my plan.

Yesterday It was my sister’s death. She was kidnapped then killed. And I was going to find out who.

My sister, Lassie, was known as the “Beauitful Queen” because she always acted like a nice queen to us.

She died at age 6, and I was the one the found her body.

Her arm was sticking out of a ditch in Little Rock, Arkansas, the place where I was born.

Her first half of her body was there, the rest all chopped up.

When I was there, a man about 5’7, brown hair, and nerdy glasses was driving away really fast, but I was fast enough to catch his face.

Tan skin, scars around his lip, evil eyes.

I knew he killed my sister.

I quickly got up and ignored what I was going to wear.

The smell of raspberry cornflake ceral filled up my nostrills.

Today I was going to find out the guy’s name

Pretty Little Liars

This is for the people who enjoy Pretty Little Liars.

Chapter One – Flashback

There was a street lamp about 10 feet away from some shadows. The shadows were of four girls. The four girls were walking along the side of the path and entering a nearby house. Soon they were talking and all sorts with many people. Everyone there looked about 17. “Amelia! Gillian! Haley! Katrina! Photo!” then there was a snap of a camera and a flash of light. A person showed the four girls the photo where they all smiled. They stood in the order of what the man shouted them in.

Amelia Lily Jameson was the first girl. It was a fact that people called her Amy. She had really light brown hair and blue eyes. She was a little pale with freckles. She was quite small and dressed in day to day outfits such as jeans and a tee.

Gillian Thompson was second. She was called Gilly often. She was slightly bigger than Amelia in more ways than one. She had ginger hair with millions of freckles, glasses and blue eyes. She dressed in odd clothes.

Katrina Anna Prescott, third. Kat, they called her. She was tall with blonde hair and green eyes. She had a nice tan. She wore denim normally.

Haley Burke, Hales, last. Black hair, brown eyes, tall-ish. She was actually an Asian but born in England and didn’t believe in the Asian’s ways really. She wore dresses.

The girls were in a local college called Greenwood College. They were all 16 years old. All friends. All unique. Amelia was the one who always got into relationships and then got out again. Gillian was always the nerd around school. Katrina wasn’t anything special but she was amazing in her own way and Haley… well. That’s another story. Haley Burke, Hales. Murdered at 16 years old… and no one knows why or who by. Haley Burke, deceased. No body found.

Chapter Two – Dead Ends.

Dragging bags around, three girls were seen walking along a crowded corridor. They were in college. Entering a class, they sat down at their desks. Katrina at the front left. Amelia at the left middle far back. Gillian at the front right middle. It wasn’t strange to see the girls a little upset but Gillian was always happy to be in English. Her parents were strict but Gilly seemed to like half of it. They got out their equipment and started to work.

“Gillian, what say you on the Shakespeare play of Romeo and Juliet?” the teacher asked. She had her hair in a bun and some black lens glasses on the tip of her nose. She sat at the edge of her own desk.

“Romeo Montague was a fictional character of one of Shakespeare’s plays. There are many versions of to how he dies, but only dies however after Juliet kills herself with poison or a dagger, whilst some versions contain and pistol. Juliet, kills herself after hearing Romeo is dead, miss Kelsall.” Gilly prided. She knew everything.

Forty-four minutes song (no music yet)

If there weren’t trails of evidence,

swear I wouldn’t say a word.

For forty-four minutes

she hurled her body against the door.

How do you explain what kind of crazy hurt it takes

to turn a night of sips of wine and no cigarettes

into trembling terror,

shattered bottles and empty pack of smokes?

For forty-four minutes,

she kicked the door.

I struggle with aging,

If it’s not a tooth, knees, or lung.

She promised, “I will always love you,”

her eyes full of dark confessions

For forty-four minutes,

she hammered the door.

she cut her hip nine times,

then she went home with him.

She said, “You knew I wasn’t happy.”

For forty-four minutes,

she knocked her head against the door.

There’s a lot of things you can’t know

until after it’s done.

The night the shit went down,

she smacked me so hard,

I never saw it coming.

For forty-four minutes,

she banged her fists against the door.

I cried, “No more lies, no more deceits.”

But we’re all traitors here

our own wickedest enemies.

For forty-four minutes,

she pounded the door.

No matter how sad, or mad a song,

there’s always an imp at the end,

who sighs a careless laugh,

and that mischief is me.

Does the devil always win?

For forty-four minutes,

she knocked her head against the door.

she kicked the door.

she banged her fists against the door.

she hammered the door.

she threw her body against the door.

Oh, yeah, one last remark.

I tend to destroy evidence.

She said, “You’re so OCD!”

but you can’t obliterate every memory,

I will always love her.

For forty-four minutes,

she knocked her head against the door.

she kicked the door.

she banged her fists against the door.

she hammered the door.

she threw her body against the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Play

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A thief in the Night


For the story goes

A thief betrayed the Mistress of the night

Shadowed in the palm of fate

He wooed her with his might

Showered her with loves embrace

And flowered her with passion but just a little taste

For little did she know

That beneath that loving exterior

Dwelled a charming thief

Who saw her as inferior

To rule the skies at night

His goal to make her fall in love with him

Then steal away her kingdom in the sky

But she new he was no regular guy

So when he tried to pull a rug over her eye

She nearly lost her shine

But being the Mistress of the night she didn’t surrender without a fight

She gathered all her power and imprisoned him in moon light

Play

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

What are friends for?

Joe was not jaded, and he did not look at Dorothy with eyes of disdain, hatred or even jealousy that can only come from deep love that had been crossed.  The look in Joe’s eyes was blank; there was no feeling at all behind his eyes and he felt nothing.  He could stand looking at Dorothy and not flinch.  It was his hands that had gone through the motions of a loving touch just minutes prior.  There had been laughter in the room at that time.  Dorothy was playing the game, in front of their party guests.

 

Dorothy could have bathed in the material aspect of her world.  By all rights, if money could buy happiness, Dorothy should have been excited about every sunrise.  Dorothy had the finest fashions, a grand house, a personal pool, and no debt.  None of these material things could change her fate.  Dorothy couldn’t tell anyone of her fate.  Truthfully, she didn’t truly believe it herself.  Even if she could bring herself to speak with someone, she had no reason to believe anyone would care.  People had seen the cast on her arm after “the accident”.  There wasn’t a living person that would do more than glance at her, and give her a shallow, “I am sure you will be alright” type of answer.  The world Dorothy was in, did not allow her to speak about disgraceful acts.

 

Dorothy had always been supported by Suzy.  Suzy used to talk to her for hours about her dreams, aspirations and what the future held for them.  At one time, Suzy had sworn an undying oath of friendship to Dorothy.  The truth though, Suzy was not Dorothy’s real friend.  Suzy was more of the person that was around.  This is not a real friendship, and that fact would show true.

Anger had built up in Suzy.  Suzy’s first act of jealousy happened after the violent impact of the car.  Dorothy was unconscious after a car “accident”.  Suzy stomped on Dorothy’s shoulder dislocating it out of the socket.

The truth about the matter now, Dorothy was emotionally numb.  She had no fear of death any more.  Dorothy’s eyes were looking directly at Joe and Suzy when they had their first kiss.  Just a week prior, Suzy had attended Joe and Dorothy’s wedding. This was the first time Suzy had let herself feel anything for Joe, but it would not be the last.

 

The first kiss had filled Suzy with a passion she had never before experienced.  Her friendship with Dorothy was really jealousy.  Suzy wanted to be the one getting married, wanted the clothes, wanted the beautiful life with Joe.  Suzy would have Joe to herself.

 

It was satisfying, as Suzy felt Dorothy’s neck snap between her fingers.

 

Just then, from down the hall “Suzy, dinner is ready, and don’t forget to wash your hands.” Her mom called out as part of their evening routine.  Suzy would have a long tedious night at the dinner table.  Mom had fixed broccoli.

 

As Suzy entered the dining room, she secretly wished she could put this adult world behind her.  She was anxious to get back to her Joe.  Dorothy’s head was in her right pocket, and she felt relaxed as she could feel its outline through her shorts.  At least Joe will be there waiting when I get back.  He had better comply with her commands or his head would fit nicely in her left pocket.

 

Rayna -Ghost Story-

He didn’t look anything like she expected. His eyes a glowing almond that seemed tense with some sort of anger, his ebony hair plastered to his native skin and his lips tugging in a frightening sneer. Before she could speak, the hallway clock struck one and glass broke all around her. Soon a delightful smell of lavender overpowered her and the boy with his group of friends hurried back down the steps they came from. “Wait!” She tried to call out but more glass shattered then made her freeze. She quickly ran to the stairs, stumbling to make her way to the boys. Only they had disappeared. “Damn it.”

“Looking for someone, darling?” A husky male voice whispered in her ear. She turned to face the voice but no one was there. She searched through the darkness of the cafeteria but was disappointed to find nothing. “Wanna join us?” the words made her jump, a fearful shiver escaped up and down her spine.

“Who’s there?” she started but paused when there was no answer. “What do you mean by joining you?”

“This is what we mean.” The boy with the glowing eyes stepped out of the dark revealing a new him. His skin a sick gray color, cuts lashed into his skin. Before she could speak, in lightening speed; he was in front of her. He reached out his hands and it went right through her. Terrified, she fell backwards, over the stairs railings and onto the basement floor. A liquid red color seeping out of her skull, eyes widen with fright. The boy disappeared. The girl was named Rayna and she was found after a few days and the group of boys were never found. But it was said, a new girl came to school and she looked exactly like Rayna; only she seemed perfect, flawless. She hung out with a group of boys that also were perfect, with ghost-like features. They kept to themselves and whenever someone tried to talk to them; they went missing ot found dead.

Not green and white

 

A lot has changed in recent years and writing is no exception.  Movies, books, graphic novels, and even music have changed many times over recent decades and people have been impressed by this.

Or are they?  Just as there have been many objective reasons why new things have changed art for the better, there are objective reasons why changes have worsened art.

So how does one change things, then?

One could analyze all was that an art form has evolved, track the cons and pros of each change and subject all pieces that have changed it to objective scrutiny and read as many arguments for or against the piece in order to deduce the worth of a certain change in a medium.

Or you could not waste time and don’t bother… thinking about it, not changing it.

Change best come form a need for it.  When an art piece changes the medium in a good way, it shows the need for the change doing the best with the potential of actual art.

Will Eisner changed the way most people view comics.  It is because of him that it was necessary to use the term ‘graphic novel’ as a separate kind of book than a comic.  But the reason people viewed comics as a potential to show a story of an impact, drama, length and as a medium aimed almost entirely as adults was because he showed us that a graphic novel could be good.  Before him, comics were short strips, a page or three at most of silliness and goofiness aimed only at children.  The reason we believed comics could be graphic novels was because he gave us a great story that many adults liked and were interested in.  His change was good because it was needed in order to make the piece.

Changes done when the art is not up to par or don’t even need it are what rub people the wrong way.  Take the Stargate movie.  Not all, but most people didn’t like it because it relied too much on special effects and felt there was not enough on a story worth their time.  It was a flop and it is still nearly universally known for sucking.  Stargate the movie was followed up by ten season of Stargate SG-1 as well as many spinoffs of that.  The shows have a huge fan following, and the sets are almost as cheap as those in Xena (for the record, I liked a lot of Xena; it was just obvious they kept reusing the same plastic armor).  Stargate the movie didn’t need the effects. The change of the effects themselves and how much the effects were used failed and aggravated people because they were given a story they didn’t like.  There was no potential shown for the story and thus they felt there was no potential for the effects.

Change should come from the need for it; actual progress in both art and tools.  Don’t think to yourself what to change, how to change it, or even why.  These will come to you when you need.  Focus on your art as much as possible and seek change it you find there is not way to show it at its best without change.  Progress comes for necessity and understanding.

The Secret – Page 20

Probably, Ben couldn’t think of a masculine flower name for them.  So telling her she could name them got him off the hook.  She remembered a discussion they had. “How about Thorn?” Ben asked her.  “Thorn? Are you insane?” Sounds like a German Sheppard! Lily Argued. “No!”

And she named the boys; she missed her husband though, still after all these years.  She did feel lucky to have Maddie as a friend though, especially now.  She put Maddie off when she noticed her concerns about the darkness of the nights in Magnolia.  But she did notice it.  For some reason, she didn’t tell her more about the quiet. Which she noticed as well.  She just didn’t want to talk about it.  Her children complained about it too at first, then they seemed to be scared of it.  They did not go out at night come to think of it, neither did Lily.

Maddie brought it out in conversation but Lily felt as though she should have whispered it.  Like it was a secret that everyone knew, but didn’t discuss.  What was going on here?  All of a sudden Lily felt afraid, she felt as though some one was reading her thoughts.  (Blank your mind) She thought.  (Think of the party.) That worked, but all day long at different times she felt as though someone was behind her.

The Secret – Page 19

“What? Oh, Maddie did you just now think of that?   That’s a great idea! A Party!  Yes, That sounds perfect.  It gives me something to plan and look forward to.  I guess after the Holidays I can be miserable along with the rest of the world.”

“Why don’t we get together and make plans? How about lunch on Saturday.” Lily added.

That was fine with Maddie as she agreed.  Lily signed off and hung up the phone in her office.  Thank god she had a friend here.  She had been here in this town two and half years and not made one friend.  Oh, sure everyone was polite and pleasant enough, but in a distant sort of way.  Her kids were no exception, they needed friends too, they need social time even more then I, she thought.    No wonder they want to move!  Lily loved her little restaurant but she can’t expect her children to work there forever.  She thought more about the party, she would invite Ben’s family as well.  Even though, they weren’t fond of her they did love Ben’s kids and it would be good for the children to seem them as well.  Ben, her husband referred to as “Bud” by his family; get it? “Bud Flowers?”  Agreed that the boys have normal names.  So she got to name them after her relatives.  Her father’s was Tony and her uncle Jim.

The Secret – Page 18

“Hi Lily, Just thinking about calling you.” Said Maddie. “Hi, I thought I might get you to cheer me up.” Lily replied.
“Oh, something wrong?”
“Well, do you have a few minutes? It’s not that something’s wrong, really; but the kids have all informed me that they are all moving out the beginning of the January. “ Lily said. “I know that they are really adults but they really are my only family, you know. My parents are dead, and I am the only child. I am glad that the kids love Bens family (My Flowers) and each other. Of course I am being selfish for wanting them to stay with me, I know they can make it on their own.”
Maddie stopped her there, “Where are they going?”

“Well, Camellia is going to work at the boardwalk plaza in Rehoboth beach. Tony and Jim have been approved for the culinary arts program at Delaware Tech and Community College in Georgetown. They want to get a place together near campus. “
“Well, that’s not really far then. They will still be close by.”
“I know, I’m being too sentimental, its time for them to move on. These are great opportunities for them. “
Maddie thought of her Christmas plan. “Guess what Lily, I have an idea. Why don’t we have a combined family Christmas party at your place? I will invite my family and you and your children. Have a big traditional dinner in the restaurant and I will pay for everything and you and I will cook all the food. What do you think?

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