Thursday, November 21, 2013

In All Frankness

Frankly the hardest part of following this path is not being able to see through the trees
As the winds keep blowing and pelting me with hail I can't see two feet ahead
Its not that hard to understand the complications of freezing yourself to death
When the world keeps beating you into submissive dismissive attitudes
Clawing on your hands and knees as you've moved on toward the destination
Granted that you are going down, face planting into the pavement
Tomorrow will bring the sunshine,
Today only brings the miseries, letting on the tears and terrifying trends,
Dependence that we put on our sandal-ed feet,
Strapped tight but we are moving on our skinned and scarred knees,
The bruises pushing on our points of pain,
That will not allow us to breathe.
Frankly the easiest part of following this path is not being able to see through the trees.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Rough Opening to Low Caliber

Michael was staring down at his bowl of cereal as if studying the frosted flakes.   He put a spoonful in his mouth and thoughtfully chewed on them as he tapped the spoon in the air before scooping up another mouthful.   It was quiet in the kitchen, as was the norm, and he enjoyed it.   There was something about getting up at seven in the morning when no one else had a reason to.  His mother was asleep in her bedroom, the door of which only a few feet behind him, and his younger brother had no reason to be up yet as it was the summer and he was allowed to sleep in.   Michael would have to make his way to the college in the next ten minutes but for now he pondered the silence and ate his cereal.
He ran a finger through his freshly showered hair and ruffled it up and it gradually steadied itself in a controlled fashion.   For this particular day he had worn a button down shirt with plaid squares which consisted of various shades of blue and grey.   After shoveling in another helping of his flakes he checked the cheap faced watch on his right wrist and collected the bowl in his hand after reading the time.   
The bowl landed in the sink lopsided and bled milk into the drain and then was followed by the metallic clanking of the spoon.   Michael wiped any remaining remnants of the food from his lips with the back of his hand and headed out the front door.    He needed to pick up Dennis, and since Dennis was always slow getting out to the car Michael always left a little earlier.

Dennis frenetically moved the toothbrush in his mouth to and fro the sound of scratching bristles against teeth sounding louder within his inner ear.   With toothbrush in mouth he knelt down and tossed through a pile of jeans at the foot of his bed and tossed them back and forth digging through them like a hound digging for hares.   When he found a suitable pair he gripped the toothbrush with his teeth to free up his other hand and he twisted and turned the pants to be sure they were what he had been seeking.    Satisfied he tucked them under his arm and moved to a dresser drawer that was half out and overflowing with white briefs.  He snagged a pair and walked naked across the hall to the bathroom.
He tilted over the bathroom sink and let loose the toothbrush, and then followed it with a few globs of toothpaste spit.  Then he wiped his face clean with the palm of his hand and stared at himself in the mirror.   He turned and put himself in profile and sucked in his gut to show his skin tight against his rib cage.   On his right shoulder was a tattoo of some random Chinese symbols that supposedly read “Witless Rage”   which was the name of his favorite metal band.   After running his fingers through his returning pubic hair he stepped into his underwear and then pulled his pants on.
It was then that the car horn sounded outside and he knew Michael was already here.   “What the hell man, it’s only seven thirty.”  He muttered to no one in particular.    He crossed the hallway back into his room and opened up another drawer and retrieved a black tank top.   The horn honked again.
“What’s with the noise!”  His mother yelled from her bedroom down the hall.  
“It’s nothing ma. Go back to sleep.”  He stuffed his wallet into his rear right pocket and pulled the pack of camel lights from his desk drawer before making his way for the door.
“I was sleepin’.   Tell him to have a little respect.”   She yelled some more but Dennis had no interest in responding as it would only lead to an endless argument.   As he left the house he made sure to pull the door shut as loud and obnoxious as possible.

Sean put the barrel of his father’s forty five in his mouth.   He put his teeth down on it softly and he looked down cross eyed at its silver polished surface reflecting the light of his desk lamp.  He was lying on his back on his freshly made bed and he fantasized about the mess it would make on his new sheets.   He wondered if red meaty chunks of his brain would wind up stuck to the wall, or if his mother would be able to get the blood stains out of the sheets.   He figured the best option would be to just throw the sheets away, and then the bed as he was sure it would soak through to the mattress.  
He was already dressed in his khaki’s and his favorite striped polo shirt.   His hair was already hardened into its gelled mold.  The skate shoes on his feet were black and worn, but they were his favorite pair.  Next to him on his desk his black thick rimmed glasses sat opened and staring down at him as if bearing witness to his particular brand of insanity.
Then the car horn sounded and he slowly removed the gun from his mouth and sat up just as quickly.   There was a very melodic style to his deliberate movements as he walked across the room to his closet where he tucked the gun behind one of his old high school algebra books.   He cleaned his lips of the metallic taste of the gun with his fore and middle fingers of his right hand and made his way outside. 

Nikki wasn’t exactly sure what Michael saw in his friends, and she pondered it as she always did as she stood waiting for his car to round the corner to the school.   It was a tradition they started when they decided to go to the local community college rather than the larger university in the city.   It was more cost effective this way.  Books cheaper, tuition cheaper, and the money they would save on transportation alone would give them prime opportunity to save up for when the transfer to university became necessary.   She had pressed the idea on Michael who seemed to share a common stigma that this two year college had less to offer than he’d find somewhere else but eventually he agreed.   She knew it didn’t entirely have to do with her urging the idea, because she was not that naïve.   Sean and Dennis both had settled on the school as well and just as much as Michael was planning his time with Nikki he was always planning his time with his friends.   Nikki admitted to the jealousy on a daily basis.
The familiar tan sedan round the corner just beyond some oak trees and proceeded in an immediate left turn into the parking spaces.  Luckily Michael had found one close to the front of the school and pulled it hastily and at a crooked angle.  Nikki checked her watch and they still had another six minutes before class but she was growing impatient.   If they took too long Michael and her would not be able to find seats together and would be forced to sit by people they didn’t want to sit by.   Luckily for her neither Dennis or Sean had signed up for any accounting classes and it was the one class this semester that her and Michael could share together.
Dennis stepped out of the car first with his head hung down and a cigarette pursed between his lips he brought up his lighter and cupped it in his hands.  He wasn’t paying attention at the intersection of cars, and someone came to a quick halt as he brazenly stepped in front of them.  The driver of the mini-van, a middle-aged woman threw up her hands in protest, but Dennis didn’t acknowledge her existence.  Instead he stopped where he was and made another attempt to light the cigarette.  After it was lit he still hadn’t budged and took a long drag and blew a puff of smoke in the air and then proceeded his progression.  
Nikki watched on with the shake of her head.   It hadn’t been the first time Dennis had done something like that.   He must have figured himself invincible one of those young people who thought they would live forever.  She didn’t think he was much different than a moronic child that wobbles around on a bike in the middle of the street despite the fact that heavy boxes of metal are driving to and fro about them.   He was like one of those kids unaware that any number of things could prevent a car from stopping as they should, one such thing being the irritation of a emotional driver.  If it were anyone else she might have felt bad wishing the soccer mom would plow over him with her “my child is an honor student” bumper sticker wearing vehicle, but as it was not anyone else and it was Dennis she could care less.   
“You could have been killed you know.”  She said to him even though she knew what his response would be.
He looked back at the intersection pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and holding it between his fingers he pointed with the hand.  “Pedestrians have the right of way.   Plus she was a bitch.”  Dennis smiled a crooked smile and took another drag on his cigarette.  He then spoke again, “Bet you’re going to tell me these will kill me too.”
“I would if I actually thought you gave a shit.”  Nikki said.
Dennis smiled and clicked his teeth together before throwing the cigarette in the grass between the sidewalks leading up to the school.  He said no more and walked on.
Sean was approaching by this time.  Nikki could never get a response from him.  He gave her the creeps with the almost mute attitude he had.  She had asked Michael about it before and Michael claimed that Sean talked around him and Dennis all the time.   He seemed decent enough but when you’re best friend is Dennis how decent could you really be.   Then there was Michael though, the enigma in their trio.   He was a decent guy, polite, hard working with big dreams about his future endeavors and he was friends with Dennis too.
As Sean walked by she said hello, but he kept his eyes to the ground and walked passed her to follow on after Dennis.   Michael was a few steps behind him, “I think I’m getting through to him.”  She joked.
Michael offered his arm to her and she wrapped hers around it and they too began walking toward the school.   “You only need like another ninety-nine hello’s before you get even a “hi” back.”  He said.
She wanted to ask him about Sean but she decided against it, they only had a few more minutes before class would be starting.

Tommy awoke to the immediate realization that he was not asleep in his own bed.   The ceiling above him was about a foot lower than his own and did not arch the way his own did.   The mattress underneath his body was far to firm to be his own, and when he turned and saw the half-naked woman covered by half the comforter he knew without a doubt he wasn’t in his own house.   He sat up dragging his feet to dangle over the side of the bed and he realized that he was without pants but still had his shirt on.   Casting his eyes about he tried to see if he could spot his boxers and jeans but they were not in his immediate vision.  With a quick contemplation he chose not to awake the woman whose name he could not recall and he stood up to his feet and walked to the end of the bed bare assed.
Again, he could not locate his pants, but saw her bra and panties at the edge of the bed resting just under her curled toes that poked out from the bottom of the comforter.   Slowly he approached the open bedroom door and stuck his head out to see if there were any other occupants in the building and when the coast seemed clear he stepped out and watched the floor in case he missed his clothing sprawled out about someplace.  
The air conditioning was blowing and as he passed a floor vent he felt the chill breeze roll over his legs and ass and he attempted to pull the shirt down to cover himself.  He then passed into what looked like the living room, and it was clear it was a simple one bedroom apartment.  With its bland white walls, and limited space.   This was a small relief to him as he figured it would be less space to have to search.   He rounded on more corner and saw to his great relief his pants with the boxers in them resting against the legs of a kitchen chair.   Tommy wasted no time and pulled them on and strapped his belt and proceeded to a window just over the sofa in the living room.   He peeled the blinds with his middle and index fingers and he didn’t recognize anything outside.  
After checking his pockets for his wallet and keys he walked back into the girls room and sat on the end of the bed.   There was something sensual about her lone foot being exposed and he reached a hand out rubbing the tip of his finger along the edge.   She stirred at the touch and sat up in a start as she pulled the comforter over her exposed breasts.  Tommy laughed to himself, as it appeared she hadn’t recalled him either.   “Well, this is awkward.”  He said.
She yawned and parted her brown hair out of the way of her eyes and scoffed at his words.  “Yes, yes it is.”  It was clear that she wasn’t used to her one night stands bothering to wake her up.  Indeed Tommy would have been more accustomed to letting her sleep and escorting himself out rather than having to put both of them through the awkwardness of sober conversation.
“I’m Tommy.  Does that make it any less awkward for you?”  He did his best to give a sincere smile and shrug.
“Maybe a little,” She said with a smile, “I’m Lilly.”
“Well, Lilly,” He said extending his open hand to her, “It’s a pleasure.”  She took it and nodded to him that it was.  There was still an awkwardness to her handshake and she didn’t linger long.
“I was going to wake you and ask you for directions but that just seems rude.   Would you like to get breakfast with me?”  
Lilly looked over at her clock and the red digital numbers read 11:33, “It’s more like lunch time Tommy.” 
Tommy jumped up from the bed, “Lunch it is.”  He stood to leave the room, and as he put his hand on her door knob he turned to her as he slowly shut it, “I’ll give you a moment to clean up.”

Dmitri tossed the ball under hand to his six year old son.   The boy was named Ricky and he wore a plain blue ball cap from his little league team.   He maneuvered his glove to receive the ball but it slid off the tip and thudded against the grass.   The boy sighed and walked over to where it had rolled away, and once it was retrieved he half-heartedly threw it back to his father.  “What’s that about?”  Dmitri said as he tossed the ball to Ricky.
“I’m tired dad.”   Ricky responded as he once again missed the ball.
“Tired?  It’s almost noon.”  Dmitri retorted.  He pointed for Ricky to get the ball and the more shuffled his feet in a defeated trot.   “You gotta keep up your game.   Just another ten minutes then we’ll call it quits.”
“Promise?”
“No I don’t promise.    I’m your father not your girlfriend.”  He motioned with his glove for the boy to toss it to him.  Ricky once again threw it without motivation and it landed on the ground half way between them.   The boy adjusted his ball cap and walked forward to pick it up and when he did he returned to his original position to throw it again.
“So what are you gonna do when we’re all done here?  You gonna fall sleep on the couch watching that trash on television?”  Dmitri prepared to catch the ball and when his son let it fly this time it went high enough that it would have passed over the man’s head had he not reached his glove to intercept it.
Ricky took a stance and held his glove open to receive his dad’s pitch but Dmitri didn’t throw it.  “What’s wrong with throwin a ball around with your dad all of the sudden?
“Nothin dad I’m sorry.  Throw it here please.”
“You said you was tired.   So you’d rather black out for half your day than spend a half hour with your dad tossing the baseball around?  Why is that?”  Dmitri rubbed his mouth so that his bottom lip was dragged down a bit by the palm of his hand.  He stared at the boy strictly for a moment before tossing the ball again.
Ricky retrieved it and tossed it back.  Then it was silent the rest of the ten minutes with them catching and throwing back and forth and back again.   After Ricky’s last catch Dmitri said, “Alright we’re done go watch your shows and nap.”  As Ricky made for the back porch he had to pass his dad and he kept his head low so that his cap’s bill obscured his vision.  
Dmitri lifted out a hand and ripped the hat off  of his son’s head.   Ricky looked up with uneasy eyes.   “You wanna go get some ice cream?”  Dmitri asked his tone and expression softened.


Friday, November 8, 2013

Pretty Tears

As the pretty tears fall down fragile cheeks,
She turns her frown around but it does not stick,
Trying as she can to not feel what she does,
Holding onto an aching pain and straining for the sun,
A light shines down onto the pretty tears,
Drying them and staying on the fragile cheeks,
But the tears don't stop and the pain doesn't go,
It simply hides away.

As the pretty tears fall down to drip,
Sailing down to the knee as it taps impatiently,
Hearing the ticking clocks and sniffles around,
Listening to the fragile thoughts of all,
For all are feeling, all are sharing,
Even if all do not know.

As the pretty tears fall,
They fall for all,
Through the held back cries,
Of dreams of lullabies,
Of warm embraces,
And thoughts of those last,
Those last unknown places,
Journeys to go.

As pretty tears fall down fragile cheeks,
She looks about the room,
It's still standing, though it is cold,
And the clock still ticks,
A knowing glance from them about,
For all about are feeling, sharing,
And they all know.

As the pretty tears fall despite the sun,
She'll wrap blankets about herself,
For it is cold no matter what the forecast says,
It is dismal,
And that way it stays.

As the pretty tears fall,
They fall for all,
For always,
In fragile memories, 
In rooms you don't mean to look into,
And that's okay,
Someone knows,
But they don't know all.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Dissecting the Meal

A second helping came and went,
I can't get up for I am spent,
She said don't leave and yet I did,
Though it may have been bitter and stupid,
The food slides down the gullet fine,
For I am one to run and dine,
Just hiding out of sight,
So that I might find what I might,
Just outside this pillowed mess,
Of bed sheets in bitter distress,
Blaming me for food poisoning,
When I told you it was rotted and passed dated,
You consumed it of your own fruition,
Chose to choke on it, and blame me for it,
However, it tasted just fine on the tongue,
Mushed between teeth and mashed and mangled,
Don't forget the initial warmth of the biscuits,
Now you've learned a lesson or two I guess,
I only wish you didn't simply blame me,
Maybe your tastes and mine just weren't meant to be,
What's to blame if that were the case,
If you like chicken fried rice,
And I eat garbage mice.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Me, The Rock

in my own way I feel,
like a stone atop the chest cavity
of a dying man
weighing him down
and crushing his chest
but as a stone I am not accountable
someone had to have dropped me
and left me there to cause pain and misery
I feel cold and I am immobile
unfeeling stone
as that is what i am
and what else could I be
for days on end the man would holler
till he could no longer
and all the while I was nothing
but a rock
placed there against my will
because I have no will
despite myself
i am nothing but myself
and myself is myself
a solid mass of rock
unable to be unique
unable to individual
corroded off of some cliff
cracking the chest
pushing out the last labored breaths