As Night Settles Into Darkness Once More

Five one-hundredth

Shrack, sh……….rack!

A white flash covets the evenings ebon gown

One one-hundredth, Two one-hundredth, Three one-hundredth

SCKERASH>…BOOM!

The stainless steel counters mirror the eyes of a 15-year-old kid—ignorant yet to the way of the world—just happy to have a job—to be up late at night, working, while his classmates are either sound asleep, or just finishing their nightly cram sessions—all in the name of honor roll eligibility…to please?

SKKRack…Skkracch…Skkrach…Blam!

Soap pail in tow, sudsy rag applied to drab yellow walls, eliminating the spackled V-shaped pattern away from view

A cold stutter bellows from within

Flash. Flash. Flash. Flash

All quiet! And the silence persists… …Leaves one wondering

Should the aftermath be explored now or in the morning?

The Invasion

Love lost lacking.  Brutal contributions from the master of the filthy undercurrent—swords, bombs, bayonets, flexing madmen and bloodcurdling sounds of dysfunctional regret—

WTF—Belly-side under, still sore from the stumble up the porch—rippled are the emanations my blood made as it sashayed across the puddles in the front hall, knew I should’ve used the insurance money to pay for repairs, but you know, sometimes, just need what you need…WTF, (take a peek out the window)

Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left,

Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right, Left, Right,

Bright lights, not the inner city I’m used to…not anything like anything at all—well, it’s like something, just don’t know what that is, and really, haven’t seen this much commotion since the riots back in ’98, and that was all about some bad call in a game, but Marching feet moving in rhythm and cadence, seriously what the hell, who’s birthday is it anyway, (what is the occasion?)

Sounds above, sirens rise and fall, the streets all cluttered, (better stay indoors), so much metal, so much steel, (be damned if I’m going out there, I’m the kind of guy someone does something to, just to prove a point, nope, staying put)

Loudspeaker off and on, don’t recognize the voice, can’t make out the words, (better keep the drapes shut and the lights on dim. No! Make that OFF)

Cat knows about as much as I do.  It doesn’t seem as scared as I feel though…(have to keep composure, have to keep things together), phones all dead, television works but nothing seems to make any sense, invasion, unknown assailants, unknown, unknown, unknown, static…. television about as good off as it is on, perhaps under the present circumstances, better even (guess I’ll just wait this out, let the heroes do their thing, and I’ll live up to expectations just fine in here) 

Time, time, turning without a witness to bear…yet ceaselessly parading forth…

(Good thing this house is a piece of crap, they’ll probably think it’s condemned, hopefully that’s the case anyhow, as I really don’t feel like doing anything I’m not used to, this isn’t what I’m built for, this isn’t my mission anyhow, so I’ll just try to sleep this off, but doubt the sandman will come on this particular night?)

I know it’s not going to go away.  I’ve seen a lot of bullshit in my small sample set, but, this isn’t like anything I can think of, no comparisons at all, nothing even close, and anything that doesn’t end up with me dead is a good outcome, right? 

Luckily I have a lot of cereal and plenty of powdered milk, that should last a week or two and that much foresight, in itself, is beyond anything I’m used to)

Arbitrarily regimented and statistically irrelevant…in a case like this, is all anyone can honestly hope for…

P.S.  If the draft is sending chills throughout the floor, then, by all means…

Shut the God damned door…

A Hesitation Spawned Through Over-Anylysing The Importance Of First Impressions

As prolific as I can be I straggle along when decisions are anything more than theoretical

As in touch, as I feel to be, with the muses that persistently confront me, knowing just what to say here or there, when I reach a point where so much must be said, this becomes the most daunting task of darkened dread

And I ask myself…WHY?

                                Am I tongue-tied and stifled

                                         Lost amidst a sea of words

                                         Perspiring for no reason

WHY…

I could write a biography, chapter upon chapter, of what there is to tell, what there is to know, and yet, within those populous of words, none work as well, as hello.

Then what comes next…how does one matriculate from salutation to unearthing life’s mysteries.  Well, perhaps someplace in-between.

And as I hem and as I haw, doubt creeps in and intensifies it all.

What is there to fear?

What’s the worst that can happen?

Right?

Blind Embers Of Motivation

(S)Categorically frenetic

     Suffocating on the brine

              Bloated by the expectations of lunacy

The moon, its vapors

Unveiling premonitions

Ravaging the waking hours

With the addictions set in dream

Clarity is boring,

Facetious knowledge thrusts forward

As if the audience is nothing but a mass of ignorance

Collected in awe of your deepest recollections

The truth of emeritus is the dagger of gold in search of silver

     Vanity, a distraction to unparalleled degree

              Ask and you’ll be known as he who is without

                       Stare in silence and the curiosity will devour                                       you from the inside out.

Striations aligned

Subluxation pared

We are there and here

We alone create our own definitions of fear

Broken Template Rendered Quarantine

As the quartz hourglass defines its prey, quarantine’s in masquerade—Dominoes of translucence follow, then fade,

Portraying the crux of the wherewithal, primordially available prior to the blisters ceded control upon the coarse estrangement built sequentially by the brazened blade—

Within, lives the corridor, a gentrified expression of what still stands, the erector set compounding ammunition detail amidst the sword-swallowers delineating the scales of would-have-been and shall-not-be. Diminutions seethe in fallacy.

Anguished portals to suspect realms hover in influential admonishment, paralyzing virtue through its severed layers of involvement—a condition piquing the curiosity of the cloaked abandoner—twisting in wrathful formations, writhing, incessantly ravaging the promise in which the sworn premise vowed to apprehend. A broken template of scarred vexations

Teardrops stain the mahogany—biting nail files, awakening the disenfranchisement of the communal strands—standards plummet when balance is plundered by the most unnecessary contamination—a scourge flourishing from beneath this existential tenderness.