Silent Song

silently the beat goes on
i tap my feet accordingly
zero zero and none more at all
the rhythm is bland
the tune is mute
and we'll dance in statue like portraits
the sunday sermon will breathe on us
and we'll vomit up the lie
granted we can't hear the truth
through the trumpeted dictatorship of the stage
and we'll dance in place
we'll tap no more
and the band won't get paid at all
but the beat goes on
silent and still silly scary
frankness is a must in this place
sleeping with you in the fiery bed
and we'll wake up to the crackling fire
paused as if on television
and the beat goes on
Silent and gone
and the beat goes on
and on
and on
While i swim where i can
And i dive where i may
for the shells in the pastel ocean
the picture in the picture frame
that's where i'll be
while the beat goes on
and on

A Rant: Bathroom Etiquette

The following is a rant, where I basically write quickly with no prior idea of what im writing, and hope it makes sense:

So im sure it wasn't my fault the toilet seat got left up, but I swear to god i know what was my fault.  The task at hand is not to be right, its just to be logically correct.  In all the ways you can screw up this is one of hte biggest moments you'll have.  Digesting the irritation that she spits out at you.  Excuse me, but did I hear you complaining before.  In the last resort I may have acted irrationally, and stormed the throne without much of a care, and was relieved to relieve myself in that bowl, and in my satisfaction of emptying my bladder of its undesirable piss, I may have left it up.  So its not my fault, but my joyous satisfactions fault.  And thats logically correct.  Digusted as I'm sure you are, it has little to do with me, it won't kill you to lower it will it?  Didn't think so, now make sure you wipe your hands its bothering me.
Ultimately this makes little to no sense, I know.  But maybe I can talk about my toothbrush, and the bristles up on it.  And the way they wipe the tar off my teeth like a lesser cheese grater.  And then i splash around some water in my mouth and spit, and soak off my toothbrush in the tap.   A minty joy in my mouth, between my teeth and over my gums.  Im dressed in whitening product, and im ready for the party.  Not until I gargle some mouth wash, and spit that out too.  oh a little to hot, don't know if i'll last but i manage, and i careen towards the great unknown, with a mouth full of lemony freshness.
My soap dish is empty, my body wash is half empty, and my eyes are stinging with shampoo, how will i wash my delicates in this condition, or my armpits too.  A steaming spray of water from the shower head tingles through my back hairs, and my mind wanders to showtunes, that ecxavate their way up my throat and out my mouth.  Im singing into the showerhead, the star of a broadway show, while im screaming from withing my eyeballs, the burning just won't stop.  I'm soapy and disoriented, and my soap dish is still empty.  Good gracious marie, what the hell is happening to me.
The tiles are wet, I slip and I trip, and go tumbling down the stairs i bet.  My ass hurts, my mind aches, and im just getting up when I fade and I slip, Holy cow its dangerous in here.
Hello world, bitter and cold, uncleaned, and unkept, and decidedly green.

Whale Lovers

WHALE LOVER

 (Fauna written by co-creator, Flora by me.)

Flora: hello

Fauna: hello

Flora: how's life?

Fauna: .....gyshdh dkhiojoiajoijo asdjiojosdfijiajio

Flora: that bad huh...or good?  I can't be sure.

Fauna: jiojioajojdfijo.....iuiojiajjidfjoajos?...oijojo

Flora: I agree that wouldn't be pleasant, what happened after that?

Fauna: 700 oijhiohjioiohio....ghghfyudhj....iohohjojosd......kljj....ioasiodfjioasdjoijdfj!!!

Flora: I'm sorry my gibberish is a little rocky.  but it sounds like your saying I don't know what the F i'm doing, save the whales!

Fauna: That's exactly what i've been trying to say

Flora: Nobody understands that whales are people too.

Fauna: gjslie...duh

Flora: do you know many?

Fauna: several in fact

Flora: are they as rude as i've heard?

Fauna: no, common misconception

Flora: ah, I have this one who keeps calling me, wasn't sure if i wanted that stress in my life, but now that i know the truth i'll give it a ring

Fauna: Jeez, go out and buy a ring for the first one you talk to

Flora: I'm impulsive that way, I don't think I got enough attention as a child, so this will surely turn some heads

Fauna: yeah.  and earn you a spot under Sara Palins steam roller.  It's just not human to marry a whale.

Flora: Well, I like to live on the edge.  I'm not going to consumate the marriage I just want to open the door for other oceanic and human relationships.  If that makes sense

Fauna: and how does the whale feel about this?

Flora: you shouldn't pull her around you know...she's not a tug boat.  She's a whale!  They're very sensitive

Fauna: it's all for it.  though it does speak in a strange gijosadhiofjsd oihioasjd sound.  So, I can't be sure.  If not, it's a pushover.  SHE, i'm sorry, SHE's a pushover.  She cries when I say IT.  Though I can't be sure it is a he, or a she, I never asked or checked.

Flora: FOOL!

Fauna: It's all a political stunt anyways.  It/he/she is sick of dolphins getting all the publicity

Flora: pssh.  Dolphins.  Nudists.  At least whales have the decency to wear bowties.

Fauna: Exactly.  Though...it IS easier to take a dolphin to dinner.  You pretty much have to rent out the entire restaurant for the whale and i'm a cheap date...so...kind of sucks.  We've only been out once, and she kept leaving to splash water on her face.

Flora:  awwww, she was just nervous.

Fauna:  i guess her skin was getting dry and patchy.  I'll bring a water bottle next time, one with a mist spraying nozzle.  We do like to do the Free Willy jump.  I go down to the pier, and she jumps over me to the water on the other side, it's pretty sweet, we try to act out famous whale scenes, but that's really the only one we know.

Flora: She sounds tremendous!

Fauna: she's a humpback.

Flora: Oh! So THATS why you like her.  Because she humps....back.  Typical male.

Fauna: We only hold hands.  And once in awhile i ride her in the water.  Dammit!  That doesn't sound right either. i swear its just friendly.  Like, a boat ride.

Flora: Uh huh.  Boat ride sounds dirty at this point too....."motor boat" ride.  Ha Ha, just thought of that.

Fauna: You shouldn't belittle what we have together.

THE END



A Woman Sitting Alone for Lunch

(also written a few months ago)

She eats alone, a fork stabbed into chicken.  She eats alone, there in her booth dreaming of a life that didn’t so closely resemble hell.  Maybe it wasn’t so bad so long ago, but now she sits here, with her fake helping of hospitality and dreams that it wasn’t so bad right now.  Someone should walk in she hoped, someone familiar, someone kind that knew of her, and what she needed.  But instead she sits alone, eating alone, thinking alone, wondering alone inside, what it was that brought her here.

                She brings the chicken to her lips, and in her mouth she chews, her teeth tear at white flesh, and she chews, her teeth gnashing it, and grinding into chunks, the human garbage disposal at work, and then down the drain.  While she eats she remembers things, and she wonders if the young man across the room from her has remembered the same things.  And she chews some more, and imagines that life hasn’t hit him too hard yet.  Its only a matter of time though, in her mind she tells him this, she tells this stranger, its only a matter of time before you’ve felt as alone as I have. 

                In her plate of lies, in her plate of that fake hospitality she sees the faces that brought her here.  She sees the parents that brought her into this world, and brought into all of this mess, if it wasn’t for them making her exist, if it wasn’t for their bodies connecting, if she hadn’t become some fertilized mess in her mothers womb, none of this would have happened.  Some small cataclysmic event had brought her to this place, sitting in a booth, alone, with the only company a type of reflection of herself across the room.  It wasn’t all so bad though was it?

                Surely somewhere amongst the pretend homestyle cooking she could feel warmth, or she could just let her mind rest to taste the carrots, and the green beans.  To let her taste buds encase her mind, and not her thoughts of things that just go wrong.  She spoke to herself in riddles, never spelling out the true causes of her misery, right now she just wanted to imagine her problems as snake like silouhettes on the backdrop of life.  She needed to give them shapeless slithering forms just to make sure she could go on, when she made them real again, then they were alive, and right now she just wanted to enjoy her meal.  Plus who knows who was eavesdropping.

                Was God listening to her, if he was there.  Was he wondering why his child was wounded so, why his daughter was weeping behind her eyes as she ate the mashed potatoes.  If he was, she didn’t want to repeat it all again in the same words, with the same faces laughing at hers, she didn’t want to be a nuisance to the omnipotent creation of everything.  And if he was listening did he care?  Surely if he had cared, things wouldn’t have turned out this way.  But she couldn’t think like that she couldn’t let her thoughts get drawn into philosophical debates, she didn’t need to make her worries and troubles span an entire cosmos, she needed them to encase her simple soul, if she even had one anymore.

                And as she ate more, and she finished what was left, she dreamed that one day that young man would remember while he sat down to.  Maybe he would sit and eat his fake hospitality and maybe he would believe that life was horrid, and this was it.  This is what they had when nothing was left of us.  She didn’t hope this on him, she truly didn’t, she hoped he would be surrounded by loved ones, laughing and not even paying attention to the faces in the plate, but only seeing the reflection of joy in someones eyes.  As the last of the homestyle cooking entered into her stomach, she stood up and placed the plate in the garbage.  She picked up her purse, and she smiled at the young man.  Of course he wouldn’t know what was behind that smile, but she did, and for a moment she saw something beautiful around the corner, if not for herself, then for someone else.

Banana Fight

(this was written a few months ago, I'm sure its unfinished, just found it on an old file, not sure of my original intent here.)

                They were like two monkeys fighting over a banana.  One made a move, the other countered it.  A simple gesture of taking off some dog tags from around ones neck, the the opposition jumps into action, a challenge met.  He throws his arm around the others neck, pulling him back out of his chair.  The other pushes himself up and throws his lefts over the back of the futon they sit on.  And this makes the balance of weight tilt, and they fall off to the side, off the edge of their couch.  With a thud they land, in a 69 position like two gay monkey lovers, but instead of erotic stimulation, they are gripping at eachothers necks, while trying to push the pressure off their own.  And there they sit, a short challenge met, by a short fight.  More like two retarded monkeys vying for dominance, on the floor in that position, each face in the others jeaned crotch.  A stalemate, of heavy breathing, one shirtless, both fools.  Laughter emerges from one throat to the other, a admittance of ridiculousness, and slowly grips are released, and the shirted monkey jumps up with the most idiotic grin one could imagine, the kind that eats shit.  And the shirtless monkey stands now to backing up slightly, maybe too much adrenaline disorienting his stance he stumbles, him to with one of those smiles, though not as vaudevillian as the shirted monkeys grin.  They look at each other, and laugh, while onlookers shake their heads in disapproval and condemning moves, wondering what the hell was the point of that, worried that something could get broken, over some animalistic instance for one monkey to get a banana from the other monkey.

A Toast To The Lovely Lady

She dreams of everythign under the sun but finds no time to tan.  Her life is a cataclysm of voided checks that she always fails to cash.  Everything about it is backwards, and upside right, and no one cares to tell her otherwise.  She feels lost and insecure, unloved and unwanted.   There's a point of no return printed on her sales reciept and a do not resistate form on the inside tag of her least favorite purple shirt.   Her mind wanders and she makes up fickle promises of funk, and everyone scratches their ass and picks their ears to make sure the stench of insecurity isn't up on them.  Here's a toast to her the messed up beauty in the world wind of bitch philosophies.  A good hearted heartbreaker that you can't get out of your head.  Here's to the girl who doesn't understand but understand everything else.   A fundemental in a bridge of ecstacy that burns red hot on a frosty new years day.  The goal setter who eats a tub of ice cream just to prove she can prove nothing.   Her gorgeous eyes are searching for clues in a Scooby-Doo style re-run that wants to run back to its own mundane day.  And when she speaks to me I hear her screaming out, she wants in, but won't back down from her desire to achieve a place in royalty.  Here's to you miss lovely contemplater, staring into bathroom mirrors so long you've forgotten if you've washed your hands.  You try to study your face so long to see if you can peer into your mind from the outside of your body through the skin and the bone and the water that floats around your brain just to hope its staying afloat.  A toast to your marvelous lips that say such sweet nothings to no one in particular and everyone of no consequence.  If i could place one kiss there upon you wouldn't swoon for me, but i'd swoon for you, and in my swooning a wooing could happen but probably not and maybe for the best.  Your too good for everyone and thus too good for me.  A devil wouldn't mind a role in the hay to keep you still from becoming a saint.  People often fall in lust with her just as often as love, and they forge them together, and nature that horrid bitch just won't relinquish its grasp, and no matter how good the sin may feel, you won't give in so soon.  She smells the fire, oh marvelous, beauty of magnificent conviction, chained up falsely for truthful lies in ballads of lullaby.  Oh she knows its all so, yet remains a vision behind thick glass translucent, detectable but a fogged version of your greatest joy.  Here's the toast that all men give, the ones at least who have a soul, to the women whose bitch side resides in a trash heap, and i'm just saying I appreciate you.

Run Away

there are some things in life id rather do without
there are just so many items of interest to others that hold no interest for me
i am weary of everybody
and everyone is weary of me
look at love on that mountain top
i have no time to climb it
i'll wait for the avalanche to come tumbling down
and with it falls the needed joy
there are some things in life id rather do without
the effort and pain it takes to pursue
over and over up on punishment of rejection
missed chances
diabolical disasters disguised dilligently in dread
maybe im being melodramatic
maybe im being me
maybe the pretentious creature that flows out of my saliva
really does pack a sting
there are some things in life i could do without
but not your smile
not your eyes
not your touch
or the dream of it all
up on that mountain top
hellfire and brimstone are what stand between us
but ill walk over the embers in socked feet
and no shoes
burned and burning and dying and dead
gone beyond just because i tried to prove the end
im scared of chances
because of the leaps i've taken
and pratfalls are many and good for laughs now and then
but who calls the shots

Force Fed

good-bye old muscles,
my motor is busted,
you've grown soft and useless,
from granite to jello,
i go to lift,
but I can not.
we use to be symbiotic,
but now we are low oiled machine,
cramped up in bone growth,
and vines of cognitive retardant,
and I'll miss you,
I'll miss us,
I should have worked harder,
and layered on extra cement,
when you were full of potholes

Random Ranting

I will falsify my testimony in terms of you
I will allow myself emotion albeit limited
Will grant you an audience in the chamber with the king
And you will rest on bended knee, till knight by his majesty
I will cry for you in my sober sleep
And I won't allow you to find me there
No one gets to see me so weak, fragile and undeserving
Pitiful in my unearthly despair
You the beast, me the prism with which your narrow eyes,
Peer through to see a many spectacle splash of splendor signs
So what if I will not bring you along to the bed
I will simply rest my head inside my pillowcase
Dreaming of gigantic chocolate crowned hoops,
Golden people don't have as much luck as eye
In the court of our tortured king,
I will love you till I don't,
and you'll have loved me when I won't,
Hurry and catch up so I can shove you back on down the way,
Kiss me good night, and bid me an evening, because this is over
I am spent.

Killing Through Kindness

She thinks of herself in a negative light
and frequently pleads for self abuse
her mind is a fractured window
that she won't let anyone repair
And when the suitors come to call
she kills them, kills them, kills them all

Her world view slithers on its belly
and her passions creep into her bed
she won't let it get to her anymore
the sounds of love making from overhead
And when the suitors come to call
she kills them, kills them, kills them all

She believes in love some days
in its lies she finds a soothing drug
but her world binds her down
and smothers her with false kindness
So that when the suitors come to call
she's killed them, killed them, killed them all

Her life is locked in a box of tin
bolted to the inside back wall of her safe
she only has one rusting key
that dangles fearfully from round her neck
So that when the suitors come to call
she's killed them, killed them, killed them all

Her room is filled with stuffed bears,
button eyed white bellied faux friend
She frequently smiles out of emerald eyes
her sweetness there, buried inside
So that they wouldn't know when they call
that she loved them, loved them, loved them all.

A Home for No One

Its going to be probably another day for the short story, but in the meantime, here's this little piece of poetry, I write quick when it comes to poetry, I try to let it come out naturally.  And I don't follow any kind of rule about it, it may rhyme, it may not, and it may on accident, if it doesn't make sense, that's fine, it doesn't have to, sometimes I just like the way certain words sound next to one another, and I try to make sense of it all, and I usually always have a reason for writing a line, there is something behind it.

Someone spoke of loves many splendors

and that just poisons me

A mind full of impressions

and nothing to fathom for

a smell of sickly plants

watered obsessively

and drowned deliberately

out of love

Roses and their thorns
and all those gagging cliches
A spectacle of hogs on all fours
and she's dancing a horrid jig

and all the dreamers

wake up to too little time

clocks turned forward

while the hopes pulled back

Sometimes the healthy habits

taste like dog shit

And men only think they know

how digusting it is

Introduction

The following posts will be of creative writing.  I don't intend to write about my life in any way, shape fashion or form.  These posts will be made up of short stories, poems, and possibly film reviews.  I write fiction, and don't keep to any certain genre, and of course it goes without saying you won't find a book of work out in the world, though I am currently trying to write a novel, that will not be published on this blog.  If your interested in free fiction, just to pass the time, anything, please feel free to comment.  Most of my work is of a darker mature nature.  Obviously I am an amateur, I don't claim to be Shakespeare, this is my outlet, and I share it with you.  I should have my first short story up by the end of the day tomorrow if not before.  It's nearly finished and I just need to go through some revising, and it'll be available for all to read.