Saturday, December 07, 2019

STRANGER - LOCKED DOOR


Previous Chapter

Julie woke up to the rapping on the bathroom door. “Julie, are you okay my dear?” She reconized the voice as Trevor's. He was on the other side of the door expressing concern. His soft, raspy voice an all too familiar eerie calmness heard in her life. As a result, Julie shot up, wiping her face, looking out the small bathroom window. The day had turned into early night, the time when Trevor came home each night. Panic set as she was supposed to meet him at the door when he came in.

“Open the door please.” He continued as he kept trying the door handle. “ Don’t make me ask twice.” She wiped her face and went to the door. Her hand landed heavy on the door handle and let him in.

Trevor stood there and caressed Julie's hair and asked: "Have you been a busy little bee?"
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Monday, December 02, 2019

POETRY RANT - WALKING THESE HALLS


Walking these halls, are the echoes of words;
their voices are there, ready to be heard,
their silence, impacting on the soul.

Choreographed, what can't be said
Truth be told, some are afraid of them;
as the fingers to keys, make the soul bleed.

This hall of introverts collaborates;
The collection of their inside walls,
In which they live with every day.

Clawing at those walls, wanting to fall;
catching the rays, of a glorious call,
for a collection to be made.

The Halls of Poets;
A sanctuary of hope,
Our collection to become known.

As the mirror;
reflecting inside many minds becoming,
metaphorically one of a kind.
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Sunday, December 01, 2019

MID-LIFE DREAMS - BIRTHDAY BOY


What every man's wish in a birthday present, though at what are the costs? At Forty, David is having a middle-age crisis and easily influenced by his friends to go out to a strip joint to celebrate his birthday, instead of being home with his wife and kids. What he finds out is more than he expected.

Normally his birthday didn't matter to him, but today David was turning forty. He laid in his bed beside his sleeping wife looking up at the ceiling feeling older. He could feel the ache in his lower back from his restless sleep and how each day this week he had lacked the motivation to get out of bed. He even didn't have morning wood these days.

Forty-year-old David thought in disappointment. He had been lulling on this for the past few weeks as this day crept up. As he felt a sudden disregard for all the years that have faded away and how he wasted them by either being too busy or too tired to live them to the fullest. His younger self would have kicked his own ass if had seen him today.

Now at Forty David married with children or more like teenagers. He knew he loved his wife, Amber, and kids, as they were his life. Hence, why he stayed at the same company for twelve years, for financial stability and why he drove his kids all over the province to dance recitals and do office work in the car during their practices because he loved his girls. Amber was a great wife she was a beautiful woman who gave birth and raised their two children and still managed to work at home missed. Though their sex life was nothing to be bragging about. They barely had sex and when they did it was predictable, the same monotonous routine of sexual experiences that she was comfortable with. David had given up on bringing up new kinky experiences, some he dare not utter.

David rolled out of bed with a moan as he felt his joints creaked. He shuddered as he threw on a housecoat and he realized that only old people wore a housecoat. With a sigh he grabs his phone off the nightstand and moved cautiously through the dark hallway of his house, making his way to the bathroom to get ready for work.

Flicking on the light the fluorescent glow blinded him momentarily as his eyes adjusted to the flood of light. He sat on the toilet catching up with notifications and local news, allowing himself to ease into the day. After he finished he approached the sink turning on the tap waiting for the water to be at the right temperature. He washed his hands then splashed water on his face. The warm water felt good against his eyes reviving himself. He looked up looking at himself in the mirror, seeing his cold blue eyes shadowed in weariness with faint lines creasing across his face defining his age-40. He always was a charmer with the ladies using his chiselled features as a flirtatious device, but he pushed against the skin noticing the lack of elasticity and thought his looks were fading.

David is not getting old you are officially old, fuck.

David got ready for this day and prepped his face with shaving cream while he filled the sink. Then dabbing his razor in the water, he traced his razor along his grizzled face rinsing it periodically, after he wiped the remaining shaving off and doused his face with aftershave. He looked at the bathroom cabinet and contemplated adding some of his wife's moisturizer to his face.

Okay, now that's going too far.

He finished getting ready dressing I one of his business suits with matching tie and heading downstairs to the kitchen. The coffee was brewed and it's aroma welcomed to grab a cup, sipping on the black liquid gold when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out to see that he got a text. It was from his best friend and co-worker Joe wishing him happy birthday day:

Joe
Hey, man happy bday how does it feel to be apart of the club now old fart? Lol


David
Look who is calling who an old fart! Lol

David
Thanks, I'll see u at work

David silenced his phone and it away before he could see if Joe responds. He grabbed his keys and wallet walking out the door with his briefcase, wanting to prepare himself with the bombardment of jokes and cards at the office that would be constantly reminding him that he was officially middle-aged today.

He started the Beemer in the garage and got in the driver's seat. He could feel the seat warmer already working on his back, which he used to release the tension in his muscles. The radio station he always listens to was his favourite Alternative Rock station that his kids made fun of, but he like listening to music he used to listen to when he was in high school. It so happens to be Nirvana's "Teen Spirit" playing a popular song back in the day and he found himself head bopping to the beat as he waited for the garage door to creep open.

He rolled out the Beemer into the quite sub-burden street that was still lit with surrounding street lights. As he drove away, he began to sing along to the song, trying to distract himself from the ridicule that was about to come.

To be continued
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Sunday, November 24, 2019

ALONE IN MY KINGDOM - PORCH SANCTUARY



Previous Chapter

Start from the Beginning

When Johnathan landed, there was the pain shooting from his legs, listening to his bones break under the pressure of the impact. He yelled using every curse word, as he kept moving. Crawling to a hole in the porch lattice that capped off the porch foundation. He could hear the dreaded moans coming and so he pushed himself through the tight opening while the splinters of the lattice dug into exposed flesh.

He managed to push through the pain in time to not expose his that hiding spot. He remained motionless as he watched the shuffling of feet traverse from his view, experiencing the intimacy of pain, throbbing in his legs.

It must have been half an hour before he felt that he could breathe normally with exposing himself. He shifted his body carefully to assess his situation. His legs looked like crooked tree branches as his pants were soaked in blood, and he laughed.

"What a way to fucking go."Johnathan snickered as he thought of his mom nagging about jumping out of trees when he was a kid. "Oh, mom would have my hide."
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Friday, November 22, 2019

POETRY RANT - SILENT AFFIRMATION




Silent affirmation;
Haunts in shadows you can't see,
An ominous grasp
has its clutches on me,
Leaving marks impregnated on my throat.

Breathless screams;
Are my cries.

Through a strained larynx;
I hold myself responsible, to believe,
That I could carry on
this bitter confirmation, stocking me.

Accompanied dreams;
False cries.

At every convention in this mind;
With the grand illusion,
that depression is my best friend,
Only when we think we have time.

This is how this begins;
Quiet infiltration.

A contest submission to
Poetry Institute of Canada
Open Ages "All Ages" Poetry Contest:
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