He's A Woman- Chapter FiveHe's A Woman- Chapter Five in Short Stories More Like This
I took another lick from the ice cream cone. Mmm, I love ice cream, I thought as Ringo continued to blab about something I didn't care about.
"So you remember how Maureen almost got her head bashed in by some chick when we were on a date?" Ringo asked.
I nodded vaguely, staring around at the beautiful city of wherever we were. Ringo continued, "Well that same thing happened last month while we were sitting in my car. All these girls came and ripped her out of the car! Poor Mo I feel so bad whenever that happens. I can't really do anything about it though. I mean, I hopped out and got all the girls away from her, but I still feel pretty bad about it."
I felt bad for ignoring him, but I was so entranced by the beauty of this city. Finally, Ringo had caught on that I wasn't listening and started to ask me questions to keep me in the conversation. Typical Ringo.
Finally a question came up that I didn't know the answer to: "What are you gonna do about Jane?"
He's A Woman- Chapter EightHe's A Woman- Chapter Eight in Short Stories More Like This
"Yeah John?" I replied into the phone.
"I-I was wondering," John said, "if maybe ye wanna go to this club with me and Cynthia at seven tonight. Ye know, 'cause I feel kinda bad about yelling at ye and all."
"Oh," I said, glad that he wasn't there to see my face turn red, "I'd love to."
"Great," John sighed in relief, "We'll pick ye up."
"No that's alright," I said, "I'll meet ye there."
"Okay," John replied, "See ya then."
I hung up the phone, but then picked it up again, dialing a new number.
"Hello?" the voice said.
"Hey George," I murmured, "You wanna go out tonight?"
"It's with Cynthia and John," I explained quickly.
"Oh, uhh, yeah," George replied, "Sure."
"Pick me up at six thirty," I said.
"Sure," George said again, "See ya."
"Bye," I smiled, hanging up the phone and going to my closet.
I wanted to knock John's socks off. He was going to be blown away by how stunning I was going to look. I searched through my closet, which happened to
Under Pressure- Chapter SevenUnder Pressure- Chapter Seven in Short Stories More Like This
"So why are you here?" George asked, still sleepy and confused as to why his friends had shown up at his window at one in the morning.
"In short: John kissed me and my dad and I got into an argument," Paul explained, "So now we're asking if we can stay overnight."
"Yeah," George mumbled, "Sure. Just-Just don't make out or anything. I can't deal with queers this early in the morning."
Paul smirked, "We won't. John says it was just a prank. Nothing meant by it."
"Okay," George smiled, trudging to his closet and pulling out some extra blankets, "I'll go get some pillows from downstairs; be right back."
George walked from the room, yawning loudly.
"So you been to George's before Paulie?" John asked.
Paul nodded and snapped, "If you dare do anything while George is around, I'll kill ye."
"Does that mean I can do anything I want when George is out of the room?" John chuckled, tangling his arms around Paul's waist.
Paul snuck out of John's grasp and climbed up onto Geo
Under Pressure- Chapter OneUnder Pressure- Chapter One in Short Stories More Like This
Paul walked through the front door of his house nervously. He walked casually into the kitchen, his mother gasping at the sight of him. His father and brother looked up from the kitchen table, also a bit shocked at the sight of him.
"James Paul McCartney!" his mother exclaimed, "What happened to you?!"
"Did you get beat up again?" Mike giggled.
He was ignored as Mrs. McCartney rushed over to her elder son.
"Mom, I'm alright," Paul lied, "George and I were just goofing off and he accidently whacked me."
"Oh my goodness Paul, you need to be more careful," his mother said, examining his black eye, "And tell George that if he hits you again you aren't going to get to go over to his house anymore."
"It's alright Mum," Paul said, "George is my friend. Anyway, I got him back. Gave him a bloody nose."
"Paul!" his mother exclaimed, "You shouldn't do stuff like that! You're going to see your grandparents next week! What will they say when they see your black eye?!"
"I don't know
He's A Woman- Chapter FifteenHe's A Woman- Chapter Fifteen in Short Stories More Like This
A smile arose on his face when he saw me walk over. I winked back; our secret way of saying hello. I grabbed my Hofner off the stand and began to tune it, when I felt arms tangle around my waist. I giggled a bit as warmth breathed against my neck. My face was red as I felt him gently kissing my collar bone.
"Hello John," I giggled, turning around to face him.
"Hey Paulie," he chuckled, pulling me close and rubbing my back, "I missed you."
I grinned up at him, "It's been about three hours."
He smiled back, "I know, but I still missed you."
I leaned up and kissed his lips gently, wrapping my arms around his neck. He held me closer and swayed me a bit, kissing me back. I heard an "ahem" and broke away, suddenly remembering that there were other people in the room. My face went red as I saw George smirking at us and Ringo, who hadn't been told about us, stare at us in complete shock. I whispered to John, "I missed you too" and quickly pulled away, grabbing my Hofner again a
He's A Woman- Chapter ThirteenHe's A Woman- Chapter Thirteen in Short Stories More Like This
Sometimes we'll sigh- sometimes we'll cry
And we'll know why just you and I know true love ways
Throughout the days out true love ways
Will bring us joys to share with those who really care
This was beyond insanity. It was it was like the whole world had gone on drugs and I was the only normal one. I was slow dancing with Elvis to "True Love Ways" by Buddy Holly. I could feel his warm breath on my neck and his body pressed up against mine. I kept panicking, thinking it was John every couple of seconds because of what he'd done earlier. But it wasn't. I had to keep reminding myself that this was Elvis Presley. Then I'd groan in my head because that was way worse for me.
"Sam? Ye wanna get something to drink?" Elvis's smooth voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Sure," I replied, relieved to be anywhere but pressed up against Elvis.
He pulled away from me and we sat down at a booth, right behind a couple who were close to yanking off their clothes and stic
He's A Woman- Chapter NineHe's A Woman- Chapter Nine in Short Stories More Like This
Ringo's Point of View
"George?" I murmured sleepily as I opened the door, "What are you doing here?"
There were tears in his eyes as he asked, "Can I come in?"
"Sure," I nodded, stepping aside as he walked in.
I closed the door and asked, "What's up?"
"P-Paul," he whispered.
"Yeah, what about 'im? Did you guys break up already?" I asked, my mind still spinning that George and Paul were actually dating.
"Sort of," George said, "I-I need to explain something to you."
"Okay," I replied as we walked into the kitchen and sat at the counter, "Go ahead."
"John and Paul were together. You remember, right?"
I nodded and he continued, "Well, after John had that seizure, he said he didn't love Paul. So Paul was really upset and came to see me. He and I agreed that we'd try and make John jealous by me dating 'im. So, I wasn't really in love with Paul. But he invited me to this club tonight with Cynthia and John. So I went with him, and I know this might sound crazy but I-I t
He's A Woman- PrologueHe's A Woman- Prologue in Short Stories More Like This
I yawned and sat up. The first thing I heard was the snoring of Ringo Starr in the bed on the other side of the room. Oh joy, I thought as I stretched out my tired limbs and yawned again. I swung my legs around the other side of the bed and slowly lifted myself up. Something was wrong. I immediately felt that. What the hell? I thought as I stared down at my chest. It was a bit bigger, so to speak. I shook my head and was surprised that my usual light and short hair was much heavier, much longer. I slowly walked over to the bathroom, turning the knob and walking over to the mirror. I stared at myself, my mouth dropping open. At first, I didn't know what to say, so I just screamed. I screamed at my reflection in the mirror because it wasn't, it couldn't be mine.
Ringo stumbled through the door, muttering a sleepy, "Wha' 'appened?"
I turned to him, asking, "Do I look different to you?"
Ringo sighed and rubbed his eyes; then turned to look at me. He looked me up and down, sta
He's A Woman- Chapter FourteenHe's A Woman- Chapter Fourteen in Short Stories More Like This
I woke up with John lying by my side, his arms tangled around my middle. I could feel his breath on my neck, his naked chest pressed up against my naked back. I sighed contently and looked over my shoulder to see him still sleeping soundly, with a faded smile still on his face. I smiled as I remembered what happened last night after George and I had told Elvis that I didn't want to be with him anymore.
George and I walked out of the club, my arm linked through his. He smiled at me, "Well that went well didn't it?"
I nodded as I remembered that Elvis had just agreed sadly that we wouldn't be together anymore. It had made me feel somewhat guilty, but it had to be done. I couldn't date someone I didn't really want to be with. George helped me climb into a taxi and immediately he asked, "So are ye gonna go on that date with me?"
I giggled, "Maybe George, maybe."
He smiled, "Okay, just think about it, alright?"
I nodded and began to stare out the window. It was ab
He's A Woman- Chapter ThreeHe's A Woman- Chapter Three in Short Stories More Like This
"Paul," George poked his head through my bathroom door to see me staring into the mirror, "He's here."
I nodded, "Alright. Be out in a minute."
George nodded and left the room quietly, sensing that I needed a moment alone. I took a few deep breaths, staring at my unfamiliar self in the mirror. Am I seriously going through with this? I wondered as I stared at myself. I thought back to our shopping trip and nodded. Yes, I thought, I'll have to. I walked out of the bathroom and back into my own room, my legs shaking. I lifted my hand to the door knob and twisted it to the right. I swung the door open gently and sucked in a breath: Elvis was sitting in the lounge chair next to John, Ringo, and George, who were all squeezed onto the couch. I slowly entered the room and the conversation stopped; all eyes went on me. Ringo was staring daggers at me, as if he knew that this was all George and my scheme. George was smiling at me and John had his mouth open, looking as if he were g
As a cause of great absence.As a cause of great absence. in Surrealism More Like This
At times I imagine you know me
and am plagued by it,
suffering for flooding in artifice
or thorns afore culling portent and blackened poisonous
drunk gluttonous between camphor and shadows the moon pretends you don't notice your not being here
from soot drew molasses
as though streams alone had sweat free half the hillside.
Rough SketchI have promises in youRough Sketch in Free Verse More Like This
emboldening as the sun watches through
grey venetian cuts
I have time
and pace your memories looking for what Ive misplaced,
finding every reason why I deserve nothing
why at best I come failing,
and lay my head down
with tears and embitterment.
I have a song of your stare,
and cradle it wildly.
Ive learned to pray in my sleep
and dream youre next to me
PorcelainI always break youPorcelain in Other More Like This
or a reason
I've where wasn'tI've been a simple drunk, a holy man, and wholly inadequately appropriated.I've where wasn't in Free Verse More Like This
I've been a symptom and bore simple holes in salt.
I've been the fists of too much wandering.
I've been the hope of too little faith.
I've grown accustomed and come through tar pits cleanly.
I've felt the pistol looking and loomed far from empty palms.
I've come too soon to come again and felt time travel might be a reasonable excuse for many of my mistakes.
I've from the loose grave held gravel as some moonstone hued from distant apocalyptic babbling.
I've a forceful and adulterous heir to breathing.
I've a tadpole with dragonfly wings, miraculous and reverent to rippling.
I've a length in wire unmeasurable, coiling endless fruit or organs of affection.
I've half a glass assuming something quietly more.
I've wasted this and buried directions back.
Of disrobed helepoli.When you leftOf disrobed helepoli. in Free Verse More Like This
I dreamt you kept my hands
to recall my crossed fingers
or catalogue my callused
of holding on.
Burying stars.With what remains or argues from shelter hopes loose neck burrowing blind by lantern.Burying stars. in Free Verse More Like This
only a ribIn the safety of great expanseonly a rib in Free Verse More Like This
all men tune with golden forks
the lives they would have for unborn children;
the love they would have for every woman.
Collectively haunted by the same rattling chains;
the identical cackling echoes from loin to bone to tooth to lip.
The grand failure of Adam in bitter seeds
as spat into where birthed a tree of bloodied thorns.
not just yetWith finger tips we tracenot just yet in Free Verse More Like This
maze form pinnacles
what stubborn glass
like a rotten peach;
all sugar cities and perfect hearing gone awry.
Or an orchard.Weve dreamed of too muchOr an orchard. in Free Verse More Like This
and forgotten how long
before the blackberries ripen.
I cant blame you
with all my childhood memories.
Id want me to imagine
we were happy too.
youYou've become the dawn unfurledyou in Free Verse More Like This
in vengeful loves and false hearts;
A wicked flower.
You kiss with fire
and sing breaths of plumed ash.
You are what weeps free from nothing.
The birth and death of all things made manifest.
The footprint and rippled waters
of daughters left in want of saints.
You are the bullet and blade;
the momentum of decided things,
the shutter and echo between wind.
You are with wrath the ghost of broken reeds;
a moment intended to have been elsewhere,
an answered prayer at once regretted.
You are holy and wholly at want for it
a rare and poisonous dream
once the cause and cure of hysteria.
The plague by any other name
I'm a WreckI'm a Wreck in Philosophical More Like This
Im a wreck.
My car only serves
to reinforce that conclusion.
Im a Wreck
©2008 Mark Pearce
There was a dayThere was a day in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
There was a day
When the sun didnt sing
And the Earth didnt turn
And the stars didnt blink
And the moon didnt wax
And seas didnt wane
And the frogs didnt jump
And the bees cause pain
And the trees didnt wave
And the grasses didnt flutter
And the churned up milk
Turn to farm fresh butter
And the turtles didnt poke
And the snakes didnt slither
And the chickens didnt cluck
And the bobcats nither
And the horses didnt clomp
And the dogs didnt bark
And the flowers didnt grow
Around the park
And the whales didnt spout
And the monkeys didnt play
The arachnids didnt
Creep all day.
But today we have bout
All these things
The Earth does turn
The sunshine sings
The moon and stars
Dance through the night
I love this world.
Its just all right.
There was a day
Mark Pearce (c) 2009
Not Knowing ToNot Knowing To in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I saw it when you moved toward
my side of the room.
It was crowded as you
swam amongst the chatter.
You didnt say much.
Nor did I
Nor did you.
Oh excuse me. My mistake.
There was something there
besides the jostle of the crowd
and the jokes and the boasts
and the raucous.
But I just couldnt believe
that there could ever, ever be
a moment you
a moment me
and us together.
Not Knowing To
© 2008 Mark Pearce
Haiku BrunchThe human race won,Haiku Brunch in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
but we learn that fast, fast, fast
is not fast enough.
The heat of youth fades.
The wizened heart delivers
warmth from banked embers.
Its a dirty day
the day that the heart grows cold
and the flowers rot.
To complete this thought
another five syllables
Your words have touched me.
Your smile has warmed me inside.
It must be summer.
© 2008 Mark Pearce
High School Dress Code...Girls may not wear pants to classHigh School Dress Code... in Free Verse More Like This
unless the temperature is below
32 degrees Fahrenheit
as of 7:00 am that day.
And then, a miracle.
Through executive decree,
girls could wear pants
even if it was thirty-three degrees
or thirty-four degrees, or higher
as of 7:00 am that day.
It was a heady time.
shaking the foundation of
And contrary to dire prognostications
the sky did not fall.
The world did not go to hell.
At least immediately.
High School Dress Code circa 1972
© 2009 Mark Pearce
DoorwayIll be walking through that door one day.Doorway in Free Verse More Like This
Walking through that door, Ill be.
Im through walking through that door.
Walking through one day, Ill be that door.
© 2008 Mark Pearce
My MistakeLove is what happensMy Mistake in Philosophical More Like This
When the heart is
Ripped from the chest
By an angry, raving hoard.
Thats not love.
© 2008 Mark Pearce
Said BeforeIm sure that these words have beenSaid Before in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Im saying them again.
They were passed as Biblical,
Words from the mouth, from the
heart from an author have a
way of hanging round.
How can I hope to
produce something new
when theres damn-little new to be found?
© 2008 Mark Pearce
I picked up a rockI picked up a rock.I picked up a rock in Open More Like This
It wasn't just any rock.
It was a magic rock.
And it was magic because
It inspired this verse.
It had been sitting there still
For a millennia,
Flat side down,
Waiting for something special
It could have been a
Meteor impact or a jostling
From quivers of a nearby fault line
But it was, instead, just me
Picking it up.
Barring the daily rotation of the Earth,
Its annual spin around the Sun,
And the expanding race of the galaxy
It was the most movement
Enjoyed by the rock in quite some time.
But even more astounding,
My rock is now two.
Its second reality
Encountered on this page
Through the glow of an overhead desk lamp.
And that's why I carry the rock
Around with me
In my front pants pocket.
Because it's not just a rock.
It's a magic rock.
I picked up a rock
© 2010 Mark Pearce
Portland 1965 - Ch7Portland 1965 - Ch7 in Short Stories More Like This
John opened his eyes. He was in a room; a warm, comfortable room. Bed sheets hugged his torso, and a roof protected his head.
"What." John nearly whispered the word. "What?!"
He sat up abruptly in his newly discovered bed and looked around. It was an apartment. No doubt the one he was supposed to be staying in before hell happened.
A sudden noise to his right made him jolt and he spun towards what looked like another bed. It was next to his, on the other side of a bedside cabinet. He stared at the organism inside the covers, watching carefully as their bed sheets rose up and down slowly calmly. Lennon studied the back of their head; the mop-top style defined its Beatle authenticity. But the colour, the shape of the head; he hadn't seen the shape of that head in a long time.
No, it can't be.
Almost startled by this new thought, he flung his bed sheets open, leapt up and almost sprinted the two steps he needed to reach the sleeping Beatle. His heart thumped loudly and his h
Portland 1965 - Ch 4Portland 1965 - Ch 4 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Paul sat down next to Neil Aspinall and took a pair of cards waiting on the table.
"What game is it lads?" McCartney choked with the emotion still hiding underneath him.
"Blackjack." Aspinall nodded and passed Ringo a pair of cards. "Come to play too Rings'?"
"Sure." Starr's voice was tight.
"Okay," Mal cleared his throat, "You all know how to play?"
They did. The game was light-headed. No one really got into it, but it's not like they didn't try. In fact, it was one of the friendliest games they, as competitive men, had ever taken part in.
The food was served by the blond American woman who had met the remaining Beatles at the door. The others with Ringo ate every crumb, but Paul didn't even glance near it, his plate completely untouched.
Ringo looked at Mal and then to Neil who both eyed him back, concerned.
The bassist took a ciggy from his mouth and glanced over to his friend, his eyes half-closed.
"Are you gonna eat that?" Ringo nodded towards Paul's full plate.
Portland 1965 - Ch 6Portland 1965 - Ch 6 in Short Stories More Like This
George Harrison had to drag his friend across the sand towards the nearest palm tree, leaving a long and odd dent in the sand. And it must be said he did it with complete amusement.
"Okay, you can let go of me now!" John Lennon waved his arms around to get rid of the guitarist's grip.
"No, no you need to get properly in the shade " George smirked.
"No! Harrison I'm not a baby!" he tried to slap at George's arms.
He giggled. "Well, you sure look like one from this angle, John." He finally let go of the squirming man, leaving him in a mood that created a pout.
George's face twisted into something cheeky and teased, "Would little Johnnie boy like his legs back?"
John turned and sneered. "No, I'm waiting for my massage, dear George." He stretched his back so it clicked in difference places. "All this swimming has me gotten a bit sore."
"Don't get demanding now." Liverpool couldn't be more present in his voice. "I think we need to get our priorities straight first."
Before he could say
Portland 1965 Ch 11Portland 1965 Ch 11 in Short Stories More Like This
The dark black sky condensed down on that small, insignificant island, like the enclosing walls of an invisible room. The wind was cool, and white stars splayed above like that on the canvas, twinkling almost obsessively. Before tonight, only the sound of the lapping waves, and the rustling leaves palms could be heard around them, but now the faint deep rumble of the glowing fire and its sudden, cracking bursts had added itself to the air.
And just in front of that rumbling deep fire, sitting down on the sandy shore, and facing towards that darned ocean, were two seemingly insignificant souls; two members of what would be the greatest band in the history of music two legends, two Beatles.
At least a quarter of an hour had gone by since that first cry for help, followed by a whole fifteen minutes of sheer pain and emotion bawling out of the heart of a beautiful but confused John Lennon.
And who was still rocking with him? Who was still hugging him, holding him and telling him eve
Portland 1965 - Ch 3Portland 1965 - Ch 3 in Short Stories More Like This
George squirmed and kicked, suddenly claustrophobic at being connected so close to Lennon, and freed his hands from his friend's shirt; but John wouldn't let go.
He tried to squirm away from the leader's grip, tried to pry John's arms off his back to get the point across, but he just wouldn't let go.
The deep blue-green water rose up and down like a sleeping chest; slowly but briefly. A white crashing wave about two meters higher than them billowed on top of them and they sprawled and kicked to get some air.
George spat out the salt water and rubbed his eyes. His clothes felt heavy and were dragging them down. He looked to John, who was still clenching with fear to him and took a breath to speak.
Another wave crashed upon them, but this time they were able to regain the surface more fluently.
Lennon coughed and spluttered, and for the first time they were in the water George realized he was absolutely petrified. He began to scream every time the water beneath them rose; scared a
Portland 1965 - Ch 9Portland 1965 - Ch 9 in Short Stories More Like This
Something shook him with a fair sense of urgency. His eyes blurred as they crept open to a deep and depressing gloom. A tall and fidgety figure stood at the end of his bed, telling him to get up and get dressed.
Ringo moaned. "No " he rolled over and the beautiful comfort of the pillow swallowed him up.
"Ringo. Oi, Rich, wake up. Wake up!"
Another jolt of movement at his lower leg.
Ringo was angry now. He hated early mornings; loathed it with a passion. And the sun wasn't even shining.
How early was it!?
The blankets were thrown off his body, and he curled up into a ball stubbornly.
"I don't want to "
"Oh, God look at the time." Through clenched teeth now: "Get. Up!"
Ringo lay there for a while, and then twisted around to sit up on the bed, facing Paul. His hair was ruffled in all sorts of directions and he still couldn't see clearly. Happiness wasn't the best word to describe his current facial expression.
Something was flung at his head.
Portland 1965 - Ch 8Portland 1965 - Ch 8 in Short Stories More Like This
"Do you think they'd be alright?"
The car jolted as its tyres sunk briefly into another pothole.
Curse these American roads.
"Whaddya say Rings'?"
"Well, y'know do you think they'd manage alright, all by themselves?"
Ringo Starr looked into Paul's eyes with an immense intensity of longing. They were all very close friends, they had gotten through so much together, and the turn of events had thrown him off so suddenly that he couldn't help but think this wasn't couldn't be meant to be.
"You're talking as if they're still alive, Ringo." McCartney's voice was hushed and small. He looked down to his knees solemnly, his long pretty eyelashes bowing in obedience.
"Well of course they're alive, Paul." His voice was urgent. "We're going to bloody well find them, and they're going to be bloody well alive and fine." A sense of betrayal overcame Ringo's expression and he looked away from Macca almost in disgust.
They sat side by side in the back of a dark 1960s car as Ma
Portland 1965 - Ch 10 (Part 2/2)Portland 1965 - Ch 10 (Part 2/2) in Short Stories More Like This
George woke up, his back aching horribly. He looked down and remembered his situation, and shook his friend gently.
"John?" He shook him again.
He pulled at John's shoulders to sit him up straight and examined his hands. The blood had soaked through the cloth and had leaked onto his hands; his skin had been plastered in a dry layer of blood, cracking strangely as he flexed his fingers. He respired heavily at the sight of John's pale face, but decided there was no need for any more emotion.
With an overwhelming silence, on probably one of the worst afternoons of his life, George stood and lifted his friend to stand, wrapping his arm around his waist as he walked the limp body down the forest. The blood that remained among the trees of John's bloody track was in itself a horrifying sight. As he struggled out of the forest and into the beautiful sunny light, he felt there was nothing left of him to do.
George laid John as gently as he could in a shady spac
Portland 1965 - Ch 1Portland 1965 - Ch 1 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
He didn't like planes. Neither did the Beatle next to him. What was his name? Oh yeah, the bloody kid who tried to make a guitar, and snapped it. George. He was a good player, George, a good guitarist, they needed him in the band, but he didn't really need to be over appreciated. Besides, he was the leader of this band and look where he's taken them!
Could he really be that bothered to turn to face him? Really?
"Lennon " his voice became a bit more stern.
John turned towards George Harrison; the boy with the dark hair that swooned over his ears and in a perfect turnip shaped cut, the deep set concentrating eyes under his common frown and red pursed lips. If John were ever to turn queer he would quite fancy those lips or unless he was a bird; either way. But this time George's eyes were concentrating just a little bit more intensely, his frown a little bit more burrowed and his lips just a tad bit more pursed.
John Lennon replied with a disinterested tone,
Portland 1965 - Ch 2Portland 1965 - Ch 2 in Short Stories More Like This
"Paul Paul are you alright?"
Paul McCartney squinted, his ginormous gorgeous eyes opening slowly, and peered to what seemed like a light; a very bright one, in fact.
He grumbled. He stretched his neck and yawned, but didn't try to get up. He had been asleep. What time was it? How did he fall asleep?
He racked his brains for the slightest hint of memory on what had happened before. It was something horrible. Something he doesn't want to remember
"Paul? Hey bud you awake now? You fainted right on the floor we thought you were going to fall out too " The speaker's voice trailed off. It sounded familiar. What was he talking about? Falling off too?
"Hey, you're alright, love." Ringo was sitting by Paul's head, and Paul was on some sort of bed. He wasn't sure. The blue-eyed Beatle stroked his dark hair sympathetically.
" Ringo where are we? Can you turn off that light it's burning right through me eye sockets."
Ringo in return smiled weakly and r
earth wormshe has builtearth worms in Free Verse More Like This
but he has
failed to fill
our hearts and
the dark which
devours every part
name of the
miracle growI spent the darker daysmiracle grow in Free Verse More Like This
of my youth
and I regretted
how the land
for the weight
but the heart
by the sensory
we may dream
are a conscious
golden ingredientsminneapolis hadgolden ingredients in Free Verse More Like This
eyes so blue
I couldn't sleep
wanted to wander
lose myself in her
but memory's unmade
dreams depart with
I ate up pavement
like a twin city
and though I left
before you loved me
I couldn't ask
for a better way
to fill my hours
seeing PerseidsI want youseeing Perseids in Free Verse More Like This
in the dark
I want you
on the hard ground
in the middle
of the lake
my hips' width
I want you
in so many appropriate
I want us
lost (in) ourselves
it's more of a divine dramedygodit's more of a divine dramedy in Free Verse More Like This
his work until
is all of a man
that can be
(with a cane)
not a one un-
chiseled by the
of the ocean
all are gone
toward the sunlight
now surrounding them
in this case it's
like a truck-
but secrets are
what we're best
we've all opened up to air
because I know you're...you mouthbecause I know you're... in Free Verse More Like This
but I'm ready
your own tongue
sex & selfishness
substance(s) & circumstance
excelling at art
excrement & experimentation
I know how
your heart breaks
over the sounds
those empty words make
and everything reminds you
of everything you're not
drowning in booze
and forever in love
I get it
give me something real
of telling tales and pathslittle rabbit,of telling tales and paths in Free Verse More Like This
where have you been?
pawing through some
sharpening your fangs
must you wrap
your bouncing head
your flat eyes
cradles the most
each new habit
a letterdearest dear,a letter in General Non-Fiction More Like This
there is a butterfly breathing its way out of you. there is a red & blinking button pressed to bear releasing. I am ever so sorry, but still collecting your colors. In the midst of apologies, still pressing your fragile frame to pages; special focus on forever. tomorrow, I will visit you inside your house. shortly thereafter, I will hide underneath your bed; making a nest of your blankets. the following morning, I will infiltrate breakfast disguised as a warm sip of tea.
that will become my favorite section, in retrospect. the part when you learned to call me "honey", honey. the part where I whispered and tickled your chin.
I hope this letter finds you well:
la la la-la love
CryEmotions rolling and i cant controlCry in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
the sadness, the loss the anger overtaking
i cant help but not smile
i cant help but not look at the floor
becuse i dont want to be here
thought thats the last thing ill tell you
whats this feeling?
i cant figure out
the pain in my chest
that wont go when your around
i hold back the tears
i want to cry but i have no reason as to why
just that your there
your body is there
why do i keep wanting to run from you
and why cant i?
this place is not where i want to be
i need a plane ticket to New York
where i can start over
figure things out on my own;
call me when you find me
i dont want o hurt you
so i retain the truth
i dont want you to be gone for days again
and only return for her
one of these times
one of us isnt coming back
and im not sure how long i can wait
how long i can stay behind
how long i can hold back
before you find out anyway
Losti am cryingLost in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
but the tears are invisible
i need the truth
but i am fed lies
i want to be close
but i cant open up to the people who
want me to
i dont disguise things
people are too stupid to see them
i am an open book
to the world
but i am written in a language unknown
i am the only person i have
to turn to
and i cant find out who she is
i am broken
with no way to be fixed
i have a deadly disease that isnt real
and theres no way to be healed
i am lost
and there is no way to find me
The Self Murder of HopeThe excitement of a new anxiousnessThe Self Murder of Hope in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
The twisting feeling of happiness
And heart racing
Little whispered words
And small moments to cherish
Things that mean nothing
And things that mean the world
A smile granted just from a simple salutation
Tripping over my own two feet
Looking down, scared
Hoping the landing is just as good as the fall
Slowly tearing apart these feelings
Pertaining to make me give in
Holding on with the last bits of strength
My mind can hold
Tiny whimpers, asking for space
Just let me live
I take a hammer to the butterflies
Chasing them away
Smashing their beautiful wings, and their hopes that are held within
These are not my hands
Composed of remnants others have left of the green eyed monster
In my hands it forces a chase
The butterflies flee in fear
And the tears fall, watching the hands that are not my destroy their innocence
One year, passed, the butterflies took to recover
Now on their return
The force of others minds, th
Dark City Nightas i see your eyes closingDark City Night in General Non-Fiction More Like This
your hand twists the button
my ear ringing with words
i wish not to of heard
if you didnt want me
just say it out loud
but dont make the song
sing these to me
for all i can see through the tears
is what i shouldnt have done
what i shoud have said
and i said i wouldnt cry for you
as we sat there
i turn my head to look away
you see me, i can feel you shifting beside me
and the words stick
to my ears
they replay in my head
loud and clear
the song continues
but i dont hear it
i just hear those words
like a broken record
and i look into the light of the night sky
and i see
did i ever mean anything to you
because you meant so much to me
and the city lights flash
i see my reflection
my promise broken
as the one tear falls
slowly dripping down my cheek
i shall not cry i say in my head
holding the cycling words away
but yet they still play
and all i want to do
and run away
from that moment.
Forbiddenwhat we live withForbidden in Spoken Word More Like This
and thou shall not be seen
and for what is hidden
has much meaning
although soon lost
it still is reality
and for it need not be lost
hold above the light of day
for we must keep it tucked safely away
and in the darkest time
we shall return to it
in hopes of the safety
we shall know
the truth of be
of the consequences be heeard
but around them we try
and in search of the finality
we shall learn to hold back the tears that we need
and within the time we shall
find the answer to the qeustion we knew not to ask
and final to be that there is
to the dream
Lost and Brokenits easy toLost and Broken in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
forget who you are
in this time this place
on this little star
she sits alone
in a dark cold room
wishing for light
finding no truth
lies bend around her
and she is torn apart
they wrap around her
cutting her away from the door
her eyes open slowly, weakly
she watches as the door to the outside
and there she lays, barely out of reach
her last tear drop falls
and the dark consumes her
so close she was to finding the light within
she falls to the ground
Unableeach day i look in your eyesUnable in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
and not to my surprise
your expression is unchanged
each day i see
you still dont love me
the way i thought
each day i see
i cannot cry freely
for i know you see me
for everything i do
i cant be alone
to feel what i wish
i hide what i can
but the feelings remain
yet each day i must look at you
and know you have loved others
but i will never have you
and for me
i must hide everyday
that i know
Hold Me Before You LeaveMy hands reachesHold Me Before You Leave in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
finding its way
coming closer to you
and you look away
i reach farther
your almost in my grip
then you pull away
and i slip
you turn around
to see my tears
and within lies
my hopes and fears
i want your touch
to burn my hand
i want to be lost
in your dreamland
i cry out
hoping you will stay
but my only response is
"youll be ok"
my fingertips brush
to edge of your palm
and i find for a moment
that makes me calm
you walk away
leaving me there
to stand on my own
i know that you do care
but you do not know
how to hold me right
you do not not
how to hold my hand tight
you are what i want
you are what i need
but you tell me that
we can never be
tomato sauce...sometimes love ain't enough...tomato sauce... in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
sometimes it just lacks some stuff...
some tiny details, some bit of rough...
and a bit of tomato sauce...
who cares about all the emotions?
who cares about elixirs and potions?
and dramas causing these commotions...
to a bit of tomato sauce...
damn you, and damn those tears...
damn you, I have no fears...
I utter what my soul hears...
with a bit of tomato sauce...
toothbrush, toothpaste and dental floss
rachel monica chandler and ross
johnny freakin depp and kate junkie moss
you know what? I hate tomato sauce...
answerless questions...- If years made me lose all my teeth, would you still want to kiss me?answerless questions... in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
- When cats hide from the rain, do they know the fun they're missing?
- Do pencils get jealous from pens for leaving a trace that's harder to erase?
- Will angels fall if they chose by their own free will to abide by the will of God?
- Is Satan as ugly as they draw him, or did he spend his money on a complete make-over?
- If you were hungry and had only one piece of bread, would you give it to a kid dying of hunger?
- Do all beauty pageant contestants want world peace, or just a piece of that diamond crown?
- When you hear the sentence: "they lived happily, and grew old together, he became a senile diabetic old man and she died of breast cancer at the age of 76", would you still consider calling this story a fairytale?
- If I couldn't help myself anymore, and hugged you and not wanted to let go, would you believe that I really loved you one day?
- If rain was made of fire, would you cry on your cigarette whenever yo
not afraid anymoreI look at your face, and the once black and white picturenot afraid anymore in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
suddenly gets colored with the richest palette a soul can see
I try to realise how beautiful you look
and how beautiful the world looks because of you
I listen to you calling my name, and the once sad melody
suddenly becomes the happiest harmony a spirit can hear
I try to understand how happy you sound
and how you replaced those wails with laughters
I feel your hand, and the once freezing flesh of mine
suddenly starts warming up by the flames of your essence
I try to comprehend how alive you feel
and how you were able to revive a once baren core
I'm afraid of this happiness I feel
I'm afraid of you
but how I miss you
how I long to hold you in my arms
how I long to play with your hair
while you're resting your head on my lap...
I love you...
I'm not afraid to say it anymore...
I love you...
I love you...
I love you...
I'm free at last...
and I love you...
it's time...When talks become superficialit's time... in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
And feelings turn artificial
When you think twice before you call
Then do, yet say nothing at all
When you feel empty all the time
And all your poems start to rime
When you miss someone who's not there
Or is around, yet does not care
When you try hard to make it last
Yet see yourself part of the past
When you fail the tricks in your sleeve
Then it is surely time to leave...
Black BirdBlack Bird in Free Verse More Like This
A black bird
up a gloomy trees branch
Its beak stutters,
of rabid vultures scavaging,
preying on rabbit's flesh,
searching... scanning the area,
as it tries to fix
its broken wings,
learning to fly, away
Creed of DeathThere are times when I think of death,Creed of Death in Free Verse More Like This
Lying in a coffin before my time has met,
Wandering through the darkness of a moonlit night,
Searching for peace towards a long, radiant light
And I ignored,
The fact the people fear what is morbid,
A notion where souls should never forbid,
Imagining the silhouettes of the once departed,
Living through life with a world so distorted
And death will eventually come for us,
Filling the world in a veil of distrust,
Covering the hopes of people beyond dusk
And I imagined,
The coffin where my body shall be put to rest,
Surrounded by the cries of people in distress,
Crossing through the seas of souls in waiting,
Hearing the pleas of the dead while wailing
There is no escape for us.
For this is how I envision it to be,
Where people could never live to see,
A place where I could put my lifes creed,
Where my dangerous imagination could lead
Wolf's CryWolf's Cry in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A wolf basks beneath the night,
Gasping the air below the moons light,
Howling at the rays of midnight sky,
Bewildering the moment with an inner sigh,
I stand alone
In the darkness of this rugged land,
Where nothing can go hand in hand,
Staring into the sky through eyes wistfully,
Into a realm where I can never be truly,
Be on my own
Once I belonged to a pack,
Where trails of footprints go in track,
As we ventured into the mountains bliss,
Where nothing can be seen in the abyss,
I felt so alone
At a time when I needed them most,
My brethren were in the forest lost,
As I journeyed through the woods of Faerie,
Lost in the sensation of a moonlight ferry,
For all the brethren who had lied,
For every lone wolf who had died,
For the hunt where we never succeeded,
For the forest we had never seceded,
For the lost that will never be bribed.
As I wail a lupine howl through the night sky,
An answer to the moon, this is my wo
Plutonic ScorpioPlutonic Scorpio in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Entrench in the claws of a scorpion in hiding
Into a blissful abyss its tail ever binding,
Venomous desire clad in its body's delight,
Plutonic love instilling into the bright, still night
Determined to hunt, the scorpion rears its ground,
Reeling its prey into the thorns of a vicious crown,
Forcefully crawling its way, devouring the victims
Quest for MeaningRandom thoughts spiraling,Quest for Meaning in Open More Like This
Swirling over ones head
Thoughts, memories and emotions
The issues at hand,
Decrying. A subtle ray
Of hope shining upon
The palm of an individual
While thinking, focusing on what
To act, where to heed
O furto dos gaiatosVagueandoO furto dos gaiatos in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
(porque na minha rua elas vagueiam)
as estórias desdobram-se.
- O véu é translúcido e finge cobrir a fachada cinematográfica.
dois gaiatos caiados de riso suportando
o peso do furto que um dia imaginei
PitagorasDeixas-me com o nada encolhido nas mãosPitagoras in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
quando me ignoras.
Imagino o seu contorno e acaricio-o na sua Disformidade.
O teorema dos limites não se resume
à soma dos quadrados das pulsões:
há que adicionar as sobreposições dos triângulos - daí extraindo a raiz quadrada da melancolia.
E o pi (?) por quantas noites se multiplicará?
O processo da paixaoComo são as gaivotas, o mar e os seus beijos?O processo da paixao in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
O dia aproveita-se limpo ou o impulso liberta-se do freio?
Como o vento, que oferece cócegas embrulhadas em papel de rebuçado,
como os búzios, que arrastam o som das ondas para fora da costa,
como os outros, com os seus pensamentos esquivos à Razão?
- Não se perderá na Noite?
A lua acende-se trazendo a devoção, que ele inala, em silêncio...
Mas, se formos atentos, descobrimos que as flores possuem pétalas, e que as pétalas largam aroma; que os cães abanam a cauda e esta pêlos; que as pessoas nos seguem e que o eco dos seus passos ainda ressoam nos nossos ouvidos...
Na esquina, brincam com as sirenes e deitam a língua para fora ao passar dos velhos. Querem mais, são crianças!
Enquanto isso, na baixa, as castanhas assadas continuam a dançar de bicos de pés e a bufar pelos olhos quando se sentem quentes; tudo isto debaixo da luz de Coimbra...
À medida que os Ruídos da manhã se dissipam junto com o nevoeiro, os nossos olhos e a nossa b
Tento segurar-me Tento segurar-me. O vazio arrasta-me pelas ruas abaixo. Quero manter-me segura. O vazio inquieta-me, pica-me com as suas agulhas largas. A terapia não funciona para mim. Deixo-me cair, arrastar pelo silêncio absurdo daquelas ruas. A solidão convida-me a dançar sob o luar e as estrelas compadecem-se de mim. Sinto uma lágrima arrefecer-me a face. E depois... O NADA! Não-mente, não-dor, não... Nada! Entrego-me ao nada e viajo. Voo como se fosse uma folha de papel perdida.Tento segurar-me in Free Verse More Like This
A rua. Aquela onde me pegaste ao colo com a tua voz.
8 de Dezembro, 2006
Descobre-meDescobre-me:Descobre-me in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Arranca a pele com a ponta dos teus dedos.
Não tenhas medo,
eu quero tracinho "te",
que as tuas unhas me descarnem,
que o sopro da tua respiração continue o trabalho
dentro de mim,
[Entre 15 de Março e 2 de Julho, 2007]
MononucleosisP.O.V. John LennonMononucleosis in Romance More Like This
I was at home with my lovely Paul, he was feeling sick, and that’s why he was lying on bed, watching TV.
“Do you need something, love?” I asked as the good boyfriend I am.
“Just a cup of tea, please. Don’t make contact with it, wear plastic gloves.”
“Mmmm, sure Macca.”
I went to the kitchen to serve him the tea. Why did he want me to wear gloves, anyway? I didn’t even know we had plastic gloves here. My conclusion was that I have a crazy boyfriend (who has a boyfriend who’s crazy in love with him)
I brought him the cup to the bed, “Here’s your tea, Paulie.”
“John! I told ya to wear gloves!” the bassist rejected the cup.
“I don’t want you to get infected.”
“How could I? You haven’t even touched it.”
“Fine. Place it on top of the nightstand and I’ll grab it, but don’t touch it again.”
Two of us“Hey Macca, I checked the latest song ya wrote… Not bad, mate… It’s really good, actually…”Two of us in Drama More Like This
“Two of us. We ought to include it in the "Let it be" album.”
“I don’t think so. It’s not that good. Just something I wrote ‘bout Linda ‘cause I was bored, y’know.”
“Yeah, right… ‘Bout Linda…”
“It’s about her and me.”
“Oh Paulie, it’s obvious it’s about you and me.”
“Admit it, James Paul McCartney.”
“Who cares? You’re fucking leaving.”
“We all are. None of us want to be a bloody Beatle anymore.”
“Don’t speak for myself. You’re making me quit and I don’t want to. I love the band.”
“But we have grown up. Nothing lasts forever, Paul. Were you expecting to be a fuckin
(Chapter 1) Interviewing the BeatlesSummary: Fictional interviews of the Beatles, filled with humor and sarcasm. Everything slashy is joking. Set around 1964.(Chapter 1) Interviewing the Beatles in Humor More Like This
1st interview: "Four lads that love each other"
INTERVIEWER: In this edition of the show, we're going to interview the four boys whom everyone's talking about! Here we are, with the breath-taking, awesome, stunning, and super talented
JOHN: That's us y'know. Just in case you live under a rock and don't recognize us.
INTERVIEWER: So, let's start out easy. Complete the line. The Beatles are
GEORGE: Really tired and need some sleep.
JOHN: The reason why I can hear many girls screaming.
RINGO: Four lads that love each other.
GEORGE: Awww, that's cute, Ritchie.
INTERVIEWER: How would you define that love?
PAUL: It's simple. We love each other and would do anything for one another.
GEORGE: You've heard him
JOHN: We wouldn't have had that success if t
John, can you hear me?December 8, 1980. Worst fucking day of my life. That day I felt like my life didn't have sense anymore. That day I didn't want to know nothing about anything. I didn't care about something else, about someone else. That bloody awful day, the person I love the most was killed. And I wasn't there. Not because I didn't want to. If it was for me, I would have spent each and every single day of my life with him. But we fell apart. Why he had to go? I don't know, he wouldn't say. We fell apart and had a lot of troubles with The Beatles causing the disband of my loved band. After that, John stayed the rest of his short life with Yoko Ono. He literally didn't want to know anything about me for some time. Eventually, we could talk later But we never played or composed music together again. I wasn't a big part of his life anymore. But still, he was there. I didn't get to see him much, but the times I had the chance, there was still something proving we could never fall apart don't matter wJohn, can you hear me? in Emotional More Like This
I want to hold Paul's handPaul McCartney had some work to do at Abbey Road Studios with Brian Epstein, when suddenly, the phone from the studio rang and Brian answered it, "Yeah? No, no, Paul is busy right now Is it really important? Well, ok George, make it quick."I want to hold Paul's hand in Short Stories More Like This
The Beatles' manager handed the phone to Paul, "It's George. Be quick, we have work to do."
"Come right now to the hospital."
"The hospital? What the hell happened?"
"Your stupid boyfriend has been feeling sick all morning, then he fainted and "
"JOHN FAINTED? IS HE OK? POOR BABY "
"He's fine, but the doctor says they need to examine his blood, but he's fucking scared of syringes. I can't believe it, he's crying like a bloody baby."
"Poor little thing "
"NO! He's big enough; he's always giving the impression of the fearless Beatle, but can't handle a fucking syringe? He's crying saying he won't let anybody take his blood out if you're not here. So you better get going."
"I can't go now I'm busy y'know But t