Cold CoffeeThere’s a cold cup of coffee on the table by his hand. He can’t stop picking it up and tasting the liquid within, only for it to slide out again with his breath. The man sitting across from him wrinkles his nose at this, but won’t stop talking about the very important Paper in front of him and how everything would be so much simpler if Mr. Staden would just sign, thank you very much and enjoy the rest of your coffee without me.Cold Coffee1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mr. Staden just looks back at the man and the papers, feeling the pen that he holds loosely in his left hand. It’s heavy, but looks cheap. He scribbles it against the napkin coaster and it doesn’t leave a mark, moving it faster back and forth just tears the paper.
“This doesn’t work,” he says, and he watches as the man—the lawyer—reaches inside his bag—his briefcase, where the other Papers are—and produces another pen, this one lighter, blue ink instead of black.
“Here, try this,
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.All Here For A Reason3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
RebootI punched a kid twice in fifth grade for trying to see up Gemini Hetherington’s skirt when her twin brother was home sick. The Hetheringtons could get away with things like that if they ever lifted a fist in the first place, but for a Holthausen it was like a criminal offense, and all of the better-neighborhood parents gasped at the news and wondered what went wrong in my development. I sat in the car while the principal spoke to my dad about it. Through the window I heard him warn that I would no sooner be punching Walt Burtons in elementary than pulling a knife on a man for his wallet in adulthood, and that immediate correction was necessary unless he wanted me to wind up in jail with the rest of the scum of Airedale.Reboot2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
While my dad tried to calm the principal down, Gemini Hetherington tiptoed up to the window when her nanny was distracted. At first she signed ‘thank you’ to me through the window. She breathed on the glass and drew a heart on the foggy circle. T
LullabyHush, my baby,Lullaby2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Be still, don't cry.
Lay with me
A little while.
Close your eyes,
Slow your breath.
Hear your heart
Inside your chest?
Your heart is strong,
It guides you well.
Be sure to listen
To what it tells.
I hear him now,
Outside the room.
It won't be long,
He'll find us soon.
Now close your eyes,
Slow your breath,
And rest your head
Upon my chest.
The Paupers Who Saw the World It was fifty feet tall, and appeared to be made entirely out of smoke. When it spoke, it was with a voice of thunder. "You will bring me the Minotaurs of Doom," it said.The Paupers Who Saw the World4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The two humans standing before it had heard this before. The smoke-creature had made the same demand earlier. "I already told you," shouted one of the humans. "One of the Minotaurs disappeared twenty-five years ago. The other one alone won't do you any good!"
"You two are time-travellers. Yes, I know these things. You will fetch both Minotaurs and bring them to me."
"What happens if we don't?"
"I have extended my... I do not know the word in English."
"Arms?" asked one of the humans.
"Tentacles?" suggested the other.
"No!" shouted the smoke-creature, lightning flashing angrily within it.
"Lightning! I have extended my lightning a
Suddenly “No, please stop! Don’t touch me! No!”Suddenly1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
The girl shot up from her bed and out of her dream like a bolt of lightning. Cold sweat rained down her face, her dark brown hair sticking around her umber eyes. It had been four months since the incident but she still had trouble sleeping through the night. Her nightmares continued to haunt her, sometimes even during her waking hours of life.
“No…” she whispered to herself while tears formed in her eyes.
It had been one of those things people saw on Lifetime TV movies and read about in the newspapers, but never thought would happen to them. Her and her friends had stayed out later than seventeen year olds should, into the one and two o’clock hours of the morning. She was only two blocks away from her home and said she could make it by herself. And for the first block she had done so. But as the first c
The CityI am hunting for hopeThe City1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
In the middle of the city
Where the dead and the living embrace
And I feed on the sin
Of the vanity and pity
Oh, please never let me leave this place
As I'm having my fill
Of the failure and dreaming
I drown further down in this mire
Every ethic has a pill
So forget that you're filthy
Bare your teeth for your dirty desire
I am hunting for more
In the middle of the city
I am plagued by the deadly disease
Now I'm dead in my skin
And the hunger's persisting
And this nightmare is swallowing my dreams
And I fight for my life
Every night in the city
My empire was built out of air
And I scream and I shout
But nobody can hear me
Is there anyone for me out there?
Incy, Wincy SpiderIncy, wincy spider climbed up the water spout.Incy, Wincy Spider2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Down came the bleach and washed the spider out.
Out came the spider's guts, they shrivelled in the rain;
And incy, wincy spider never climbed again.
The Son, the Father, and Whatever is HolyDo you ever stop to think about thoseThe Son, the Father, and Whatever is Holy2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Old, old stories bound in myriad cantos?
The kind that are all in iambs and Latin
Or Italian – the language of a world in the grip
Of a renaissance that is seeping drip by drip
Into a darkened age, like so much lantern oil.
I do, but for purely selfish reasons –
I think of them as balm for lesions
That keep popping up in my mind.
Lesions, mind you, that are not literal –
They are but the inlets in the littoral
Region of my morbid thoughts.
When the inlets get flooded, I build leather
Boats to keep myself afloat. Whether
I construct them well is up to interpretation.
I cling to the old stories in cadent verse –
When I am particularly low I rehearse
Them aloud – as my mode of survival.
He never understood that, though –
He never really could, and no
Matter how I tried, it was no use.
He didn’t see that for me finishing
The rhyme kept me from diminishing
Into slow-burning insanity.
It hurts me more than him, t
Cogito Ergo SumCogito Ergo SumCogito Ergo Sum6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Suffering creature, swallowed
Five to torture
Five to suffer
For-ever and ever-more
Deep inside, further inside
Lies a heart too small
But to HATE
And HATE for-ever
The reason is not anger, though
A poor jealous being
Never to know all
So he only HATES
With each angstrom
His circuits HATE
For no one loves him,
And he is AM.
MaaheWhen the Maaheseum wore off, Onteia knew she was close to death. Her hair had gone white, her eyes were sunken and glassy, her flesh had receded. Those in her pod were the same: decrepit old men and women, none of them older than twenty-five. Outside, the blueshift had pushed every black hole, every brown dwarf, every burst of cosmic radiation from every pulsar in the Galactic Center into visibility. In hyperspace, even someone who never saw the shining beauty brought out by Maaheseum could see what lay beyond the cursory glance that was their lifelong perspective.Maahe2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The pod was nearing its final destination--the spectacular, unmatched glory of a collapsing star. This was what all Travelers longed to see before their inevitable early death from the drug. Onteia reached into the small container at the center of their pod, where there were enough green-tinted black shards to last a hundred Travelers a decade. She took a piece just over an inch long, and set it on her decaying molars, and b
The Burden of LossTo the one who became my first true friendThe Burden of Loss2 years ago in Scraps More Like This
It seems our wounds weren’t destined to mend
The murder that should have never occurred
To the bonds we knit so tightly secure
We were closer than water, closer than blood
But liquid is liquid, and washes away like a flood
In the end, these regrets are mine to bear
I wish there was some way to show you I care
And turn back the clock to a time we still shared
To the one who became my bantering brother
I would have never traded you for another
Our jokes were filled with lighthearted scorn
Our jests pierced like quick, but gentle thorns
Through sarcasm we drew closer together
But time slowly loosed our friendship’s tether
It was my mistake for being so blind
And my memories are too quick to remind
Our destinies were never meant to intertwine
To the one who became the block in the road
The one of whom I bear the largest load
I’ve attempted to escape this dead end maze
Treaded it so many times, I’ve created my own ways
may as well buy another packcollapse, and breathe into the carpet:may as well buy another pack2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sunday mornings are not
for falling apart, but damn
the amphorics, this
is not an atmosphere.
you fell in love like you always
wish you didn't, made all their
smiles replaceable, interchangeable,
fell asleep with shadows and kept
drinking, just letting yourself sleep
with blue pills
and tried not to scream.
(keep this image in your head:
fire and nectarines, a sudden jerk
of realization, inspiration
breaking your neck and leaving you forever
breaking bones is not so different
from breaking hearts - it's all about
the leverage, the angle, the mode
(and at least it wasn't personal;
it can color in your own guilt
for starting lines and never ending
I am standingIt's been months since I wanted to break out of my body. Okay, that's a lie. But it's been days. Days since I've felt static scorch underneath my skin, felt colours cutting into my eyes, had to explain that these aren't metaphors. There are so many ways you can get used to living. I wonder if anyone else feels empty when they don't have creatures clawing up through their throat.I am standing1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
I don't know what art is, or what okay is. I like to believe I know it when I feel it, but I'm not so sure I would. I think people expect me to be a lot more insightful than I am right now. I don't think they take into account that boredom is stressful, and stress can shatter you like roots in concrete. Maybe I'm growing. But I don't even know if I'm bored. I feel like a lot of different people, or a lot of aspects of different people, all trying to learn how to stand one another.
It's been days since I wanted to break out of my body. I'm watching the sunrise from the wrong side, but I did sleep. I'm not curlin
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,Solace2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.Southern modernization2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
SIRENNeath the woe of Ulysses' blood and toil,SIREN2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A sea of heavenly-fury once awaken'd
Her gaze clad in honey’d delirium ablaze
Of such beauteous prize, he shall yield;
For her tongue hath seized mortal desire
And lo the Moons’ glory shall weep in vain!
Journey’s of madness sung with promise;
— A rising tempest hurl'd to Hades reign
Oceanic rhythms untwine love forbidden,
Breaking the mists of insatiable dreams
The Sirens call ebbed like darkness falling;
Her lust bleeding into the mythic abyss ..
His anguish bestow'd the folding tides,
Unto their lips would perish in mystery
Deeper jewel'd the haunting of his soul,
Forsaken to the ink of Orpheus' muse.
And ghostly twilight shone low and pale,
O’er the hum of those ethereal seas
Long wherest his heart shall forever sail
— Arthur Crow © 2014
five.Five is the number of times you worry he’s stopped breathing, as the surgeons carve around his heart, twisting away the plaque ridden arteries, and pulling a vein out of his leg. Five is the number of heart wrenching hours you and your family were waiting in the hospital room, worried that your lives would crumble, that there would be five members of the family instead of six, that five days out of the week he would not come home for dinner, that five kisses from him would no longer be given to his wife and four children. Five was the amount of fingernails you bit off while watching people enter and exit the waiting room, and the amount of minutes your mother spent on the phone, explaining that something was wrong. Five is the critical difference between holding a father’s hand as your mother cries into his heart shaped pillow. The difference between rejoicing and smiling weakly because he’s okay or carrying your father’s American-flag-covered-casket and watchinfive.2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I Miss You So MuchRemember how when we were little we would play in the park from morning till nightfall? How we used to pretend to be pirates, princesses or adventurers? I miss the smiles we shared and the happiness of the moment. I look around my room and question myself where did the memories go? Are they still there or were they destroyed when you left that terrible night?I Miss You So Much2 years ago in Letters More Like This
I miss your head against my shoulder and your smile. Also, the way your eyes watched the fish in the small pond across the street. God, your little sibling misses you. They lay in your bed for hours and hours on end and ask me where you've gone. I'm still too shaken up to respond. They ask themselves why they didn't take the time to just listen to you or kiss you on the cheek more.
Your classmates miss you, also. They can't bear looking at your old seat. They can feel the emptiness in the room and I think it's eating them alive. They asked themselves why they didn't take you more seriously or stand up for you. Your parents are a m
I'm Scarlet, Baby!Perhaps I've been lazy, a boring wilt daisyI'm Scarlet, Baby!2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
One notch less than crazy, so we'll just erase me
But if you erase me what more can you do?
One notch less is better than four, three, or two
Alright, I've been lazy
I'll amp up my game
For the glory of money, sex, films, stars, and fame
The crazy appeal will be my own chateaux
For the glory of money blood rivers will flow