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?

Slaves Beyond Death

      In the past couple months, I discovered an Australian deathcore band, called Thy Art Is Murder, while watching a reaction/review video of their political song "Holy War".

      After a few days of listening to them on Youtube, I came across a more recent music video, titled "Slaves Beyond Death". I became interested in its title and began to study the lyrics. There were quite a few things to talk about concerning the message that it gives the audience. While the music and the screaming (or growling) is heavy and the screaming, its words still carry depth. 

      Slaves beyond death. What exactly does that mean? My first thought was "Oh, it must be talking about those kind of people who claim they have it all and live life without concern." But when I read more into the lyrics, I realized it was even deeper than that and a few words can be replaced in order to understand with clarity.

Let's replace the word 'claim' with 'brag' or 'announce'. Also 'those' before kind to 'the' and remove the words 'kind' and 'of'. "The people who brag they have it all and live life without concern". Now, this not only speaks of those with riches, but also of those who wear a mask, acting like they do, and to those who have this desire to do something extraordinary, but do not act to do it. 

     How can those with riches be slaves? It all depends on the perspective of the person. And, one should consider both sides of the circle. Many of us would love to be rich; live in a big house, have a nice car or two, and live in 'Hakuna Matata'. How can that be bad?! Well, it's not just about where you are, but how you got there. The act of selfishness, the 'I want it all, at any cost'.

The Curse of Long-Distance Dating (ow my heart) (i wrote this in teenage angst, please don't hold it against me)

Love like the Shadows of the Night

The ache of heart, sweet and poisonous

Infectious, death lips doth taste so sweet

Burning of my breast, melts the soil I walk upon

Molten Flames trail behind my steps

Like cyanide, you are my release and my end

Come find me, oh heart-piercing dagger!

Chase me, Mercury! And take this glass rose

With jolting hands, you pierce the veil

Empty longing for warm

Flesh to touch

Craving for brief caresses across hills of skin

Longing to be trapped in bars of flesh,

To be imprisoned in your arms

Night falls to spread across lands

Sweet words you whisper,

Travel across the lands to mine’s ear

And with these songs

I lay awake in blankets of warmth

Dreaming

Ethereal love travels like the gold blacksmiths beat

Of my mind you reside, images of

Fantastical adventures that would not be lived

Infect the crevices of my being

One moment when love becomes pain,

It pumps like morphine in the blood

Vibrating muscles retract in spasms of joy

Sweet numbness

Wet hands, washed with water of the soul

And with sweet bliss that escapes your lips as

I meet them with mine

Light

Feathered

Ghostly

I am not there

But I am here

You are not here

But you are there