3 kinda sorta metaphors

I am a home,

I am a prison.

My friendly guests gamble in a game.

In a death sentence, I have caught

Faces of the damned tell their grim tales.

Beating drums chatter to the snapping of limbs.

I am a home as I am a prison,

A war-ridden wasteland.

Like bullets they fly in drones.

My fiberglass net flexes latching to prisoners of War,

Crafted by a Warden, my tech is advanced;

Advanced as the stars crafted from the elements.

I am a prison.

The Warden creeps along my concrete walls and iron bars.

She prepares for the executions of her charges.

The many souls locked within their cages,

They beg and struggle.

I have no ear nor heart to listen.

At Word's End (not Pirates of the Caribbean)

At World’s End

Much like the sun, fading into oblivion.

Nothingness infects the lands like an

Infectious disease.

No cure for Infinite Nothingness.

Lost in a sea of waste.

Life cannot thrive in a dead battleground.

Seed of Life,

Diminished.

Nothing left of the world we destroyed.

Laughter disappeared from this place,

Hope along with it.

As the World’s weight came crashing on itself.

Nothing could save the many lives that walked in the Near Shore.

As the Clock slowed, tick-tock

Silence will fall!

Not even the flaming passion of love we held so dear lasts in the dark

Eventually all blazes will cease

No stars will light the dark sky

Nothing,

When the Clock stopped,

Silence!

Yet a single soul still exists

A single flower, blooming in the darkness

Thriving,

Radiating light of its own

Red, warm

Much like the warmth a mother bestow on her favorite child.

A single thread held its neck high

Spore-like creatures danced, free

Of the many mistakes we made to preserve ourselves

Why hadn’t we let nature be?

The Clock has reset

Tick

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

Silence has fallen!

Dogs Being Dogs

Lost

Lost

Waves beat on the shores of jagged beaches

Like the sound of drums

Like strings of the finest hair screech and scratch at the rocks

The gulls’ hoarse from calling to the sea

Rapid beating of hearts in tune with cries of a vessel

Collision

Celestial fires of the empyrean region

Peek from the grayness of an obsidian sky

Molten sounds wrap the borders of the forsaken boat

The waters calm, whispering their doom

The storm passes

Leaving a man stranded

On the soft shores, cloud-like sand

He bawls and bellows for ghosts long dead

Panic escapes his throat

Replies cease

Corrupted silences fall

Cries erupt like magma escaping

From a stone prison

Mourning comes

Day breaks

Nothing but the tempo of the

Waves fill his mind

Hush, Hush

Memories plague his world

Cold, Frozen like the wasteland of a Lost Kingdom

Then a glimmer of hope

Children

Wife

“I am coming home”

Imprints disappear from the pearlescent sands

As the green waters wash them away

Wisps sheppard him to their haven

Rays of colored dust billow around their figures

Whispers of Wisps

Prophecy of a Lost Soul

To be Found

A key

A key to home rests in a single challenge

A dual

A dual with champion of Nemesis

Metal clash and clang

Porous liquid seeps through torn fabric

And with the hand that strikes

On the Fates’ threads

The man stands, soles deep within

Dead flesh

The Earth cries

Victory

The Gatekeeper walks, treads on the ground

The man acquires the key

The key to open the Heavenly Gates

They appear, Wife and Children

Radiant innocence follows their path to

Father and Husband

Love of Muses

Love of Muses

Light tap of keys resonate and vibrate

The sounds of a stringed instrument, accented with ebony

High-pitched, delicate,

Barely audible but very much pleasing to the ear

His hands glide gracefully,

Occasionally there was a stumble a beautiful stumble,

Perfect in its imperfection

Flustered, he made it all the more precious

Much joy filled this heart of mine, laughter nearly escaped my lips

I could hear his heart-beat that beats for another

Though well I know even as my heart danced toward his,

He would never take my hand

His voice breaks the sound barrier of my heart,

Yet his heart is but a whisper

I sat there, afraid to disrupt such beauty but he seemed to be in a distant land,

Conquering each note with superior dominance

The whispering rasps of battle dance onto the walls and make their descent to my ear,

Then heart

I sat next to the player of vibrance and glory,

Afraid that my presence would compel him to abruptly stop such divine meditation

I disappeared from his sight

While my hand lay on the device vibrating life seeped into my fingertips

His music like drums beating on crags of rock,

penetrating the sediment’s hard surface, exposing the inner hearth of my heart

I wanted nothing more than to give him music of my voice,

I desired to manipulate words on my tongue along with the taps and rings of his Muses

I wish for this moment to end soon, for my heart shall break as each note is caressed

Am I in love?

Why him?

Why this stern look of poised anger give me comfort?

Why someone who would never love the Muse of my heart?

Love like the shadow of the Night

Subtle, paces quick

Like flames clinging to a dying wick of wax

Young love

Dies young

Insomnia

sleep

sleep

sleep

sleep

sleep

escape the dark

just sleep

just sleep

please

please

its cold

and dark

so just sleep

sleep away the night

     sleep

shh

shhh

shhhh

the shadows will wake if

you keep making noise

shhhhh

shhhhhh

noises

noises

stop

stop

the shadow men will wake

itch

itch

scratch

scratch

stop

stop

shhh

the monsters will hunt

shhh

shh

don't make a sound

shhh

shhh daylight is not far behind

sleep

Sound the Alarm

           I am currently the vice president of my college’s Creative Arts Club. It’s part of my job to come up with creative activities to help foster creative thinking and that, well, get my club members producing art. This past week we did a flash fiction exercise where we were all given the same opening sentence and had 20 minutes to write a one-page story. I enjoyed what I came up with so much that I came home and rewrote it for the blog. Here it is for your reading pleasure.

Sound the Alarm

     An unfamiliar alarm rang out stopping the hustle and bustle of the city square. It wasn’t one of the normal alarms signaling our city’s normal daily activities. Instead, it was the loud, grating, angry emergency alarm causing everyone to freeze in place. The citizens looked around in confusion not sure what they are supposed to do at this point. A virtual teleprojector appeared from thin air. The Mayor was on screen sitting stiff and meticulously groomed like a marionette puppet. He began to address the city.

            “My fellow citizens of the great common wealth of Pacifica,” His eyebrows formed a deep menacing furrow, “We have reason to suspect that a domestic terrorist group is at work within the borders of our fair city.”

            A whispered gasp was heard over the square followed by heavy silence. Everyone was listening intently to the mayor’s every word. Instinctively, I pulled my jacket closer around me letting its collar conceal part of my face. It was the same drab gray standard issue designated to all factory workers.

            “This terrorist group is a Trojan Horse, referring to themselves as the Saviors, espousing propaganda against the city of Pacifica and the Authority.” The Mayor cautioned, hardly blinking his dull glassy eyes. “We urge our citizens to not fall prey to their unnatural ideologies and anarchist agenda. As Mayor, I encourage all our citizens to be ever vigilant and report any of the following suspicious behavior, anyone not performing their assigned duties, anyone expressing clear or implied discontent against the Authority, anyone out after curfew without proper documentation, or any other behavior out of the normal. Together we can stomp out this extreme organization. We thank you in advance for your complete cooperation, it is deeply valued and mandatory.

            As quickly as the teleprojector appeared, it was gone. There was a brief pause after the message before the citizens carried on with their day. Many exchanged quick glances. Gone was the puzzled look of confusion. In its place now was fear and suspicion of their neighbors. The Mayor’s corrupted seed was already starting to take root in the hearts of the citizens. It was a brilliant move by the Authority, turning neighbor against neighbor. The more divided we are the easier we are to subdue. If we are busy looking for fault in one another we will be blinded by the control going on around us.

            Eventually, everyone picked up and carried on with their allocated tasks for the day, though a little less defeated than they realize. I smiled ruefully at the blank air where the Mayor gave his message. Soon a different alarm would sound. The Savior’s alarm that would awaken a new era for the people of Pacifica, the country and nothing will ever be the same. They had no idea what they are up against, our roots went deep back to the rise of the Authority and our day of reckoning was close at hand.

            There was much that had to be done. Revolutions don’t happen overnight. The people must be ready for it to take hold. Pacifica was close but needed a push in the right direction by the Saviors.  But first, I had to put a knife into the heart of the person who sold us out to the Authority. 

Rose Red

Rose Red

Awaiting for a love,

Eternal acceptance,

Waiting for creature pure.

Pure in heart and mind

Pearlescent.

Infinite in possibilities.

A time when mortality can be forgotten,

When mortality becomes immortal.

A Voice heard, muffled

One voice

Then louder

Approaching closer

Closer to the edge of this

frozen wasteland

I cry for help!

Reaching towards powerful hands

Trying to break the icy surface

To save me from drowning in a Sea of Tears,

He did come

To heal, he did come

To cut away the Briars of Red

Revealing my wounded heart

To cradle a crimson rose in her hands

Sweetly cooing,

Caring for it

Tending to the Endless Garden that guarded my heart

With a thumb of green, healing touch

A man that may,

Across the bay

A woman full of hope

In time shall we elope?

Who shall own my red rose?