The Light…A Parable of Discovery

“It’s not easy to be Light when you’ve been Dark. It’s almost too much to ask anyone.” 
what2Blight

Waking up, where am I? No lights, dark, eyes need to adjust. Gotta get some light. Swinging my feet from the comfort of billowed quilts, I find the floor cold and uninviting. Standing, I feel out of place, hands outstretched, groping, grasping for the light. Shuffling my feet, one bold step to reach my goal, but stopped by a jolting pain…. my toe, I believe it broke, going sideways with a pop. With faltering steps now quickened by anger and pain, an intoxicating brew, I press forward, “Where is that damn light?” Determination slowly replaced pain, I’ll find that light. Thump! Stars, a bright flash, dark again. That bump on my head is crazily thumping, a cry of pain, actually a shout of agony, as my head and toe joined in a chorus, pain accompanied by my own thoughts of “stupid, stupid, damn where’s that light?” Tripping, I slap at the air which becomes a wall at half arch, then the wall becomes a switch and, sweet luck, my awkward and painful search had uncovered the light…now with full knowledge of my surroundings, I without injury, find the warmth of my bed, its comfort made all the sweeter by having found the light.

      

Damn This Circle – Catch 22

“The wind blew my words away from you. So while I told you I love you, the phrase was carried in the opposite direction and landed 333 miles away in the ears of a confused farmer. He was nice, though. He sent me a kind letter saying that while he was flattered, I wasn’t really his type. 
”
Jarod Kintz, The Days of Yay are Here! Wake Me Up When They’re Over. 
She loved me, never forgetting.
I loved another, I’m now regretting.
Now I wonder, if I should try,
to love again, to say goodbye.
Damn this circle, it torments only.
Now left alone, desperately lonely.

11102011

Damn This Circle – Catch 22

“The wind blew my words away from you. So while I told you I love you, the phrase was carried in the opposite direction and landed 333 miles away in the ears of a confused farmer. He was nice, though. He sent me a kind letter saying that while he was flattered, I wasn’t really his type. 
”
Jarod Kintz, The Days of Yay are Here! Wake Me Up When They’re Over. 
She loved me, never forgetting.
I loved another, I’m now regretting.
Now I wonder, if I should try,
to love again, to say goodbye.
Damn this circle, it torments only.
Now left alone, desperately lonely.

11102011

The Queen, Part 13 – Comfortable Violence

 

spiffynorthwest

The throbbing in my shoulder matched the muffled sounds from the headers of the car. Sweet liquid morphine and shots of Jack Daniels had their desired effect, easing my body and mind out the bowels of this craziness. It’s amazing how fast life can change, from dreary and boring to “What the fuck!” in a hot quick second. I noticed things were getting easier, surprises less surprising, and choices made by previous choices. Violence became a common thing, life and death, no longer fragile and precious, but cheap and forgotten. The only lives important were ours. It wasn’t the fight for life, because I had life and it never was this exciting or crazy, but it was the fight for survival. I know survival is life, but there’s something about staring at the wrong end of the gun on a regular basis that ingrained a grit, a hardness that’s comforting and that sedates the complacency experienced by the blue and white collared grunts, performing the same routine, longing after a little dough to buy a house or car, or the beautiful trophy wife. I imagine cavemen had this same excitement, and really, that what this was. Caveman style, fight for survival, kill and maim to push ahead and escape. Some men are born for this lifestyle, and for me? Well I didn’t know, but I knew that guns now felt comfortable, my aim was sure and not shaking, my stride confident with my queen by my side. I guess that even if I didn’t start in this “trade” it seemed that it grew on me. These thoughts eased me into another deep sleep, the lullaby of mufflers at 70 mph, and the comfort of cold steel pressed against my skin and delicious lips, parted slightly with just a little strain visible on her china face. Where this was going, I didn’t care and it seemed my career description was rapidly changing from my old mundane, back breaking job, but the goal was the same, that I might see her and escape from the listless world that was mine, outside my Queen’s castle.

That Lake Is Me – Motivating myself to success

“Don’t you dare take the lazy way. It’s too easy to excuse yourself because of your ancestry. Don’t let me catch you doing it! Now — look close at me so you will remember. Whatever you do, it will be you who do.” John Steinbeck, East of Eden 
Marg+S

No excuses anymore, no not for a moment, for who I am. Continuing on, pressing against a rush of water, the tide of public opinion and internal questions. I lift a weary hand to grab hold of the branches of promise jutting out of the banks at every turn, guardians to help in the unsure and trying times. Inch by painstaking inch I struggle through the cold waters, surrounded by banks of slippery self esteem. When I try to crawl out, I slide back quickly, if not for the holds I kicked in the mud, pats on the back, given only by me. I can see in the distance the calm lake, a haven of peace, where my mind is quiet from the shouts of the struggle. If I were closer, I would see the image of heaven reflected on that lake. That lake is confidence. That lake is freedom. That lake is me.

11122011

Angel Part 1 – The Lure

ning

The face of an angel. Papa always told me to beware of the woman who had the face of an angel. I’m not referring to natural beauty, but the innocent purity and helpless look that compels men to protect her, regardless of their logic. That’s how it was with her, an angel. I should have known better, my guard was down, my heart was broken, my mind was confused, all from going through a hell on earth known as divorce. I managed to find my solace, like so many others, at the local brewery, throwing down drink after drink in an attempt to drown myself or lose myself. I was at a low that only happens once in a lifetime, I lost everything, hell, I even lost my teeth to an unfortunate, “turn of events” known as getting my ass stomped. At that time, I figured, hell might as well lose these too, and spit them out at the feet my attacker, spitting out more than teeth, I spit out my self respect and self esteem. This is where she found me, a woman like that finds you, like a wolf finds a rabbit . I sat alone, a good drunk at the edge of the dance floor eyeballing the pretty young things, an old guy with no front teeth. I was as content as you could be, spending the last dime, on the last drink, and knowing I had nothing left to lose. I sat, unaware of the changes that were about to happen, and happen quickly, like lightning, and about as unexpected too. Turning up my beer to ease my pain, I lowered it satisfied, just as the angel approached. It was a line dance and the whole line of women were advancing like troops on the field, I sat giddy, like a kid in a candy store. But she, 18 years my junior, she stopped my whole world. Black tight pants with a gold belt that followed the curve of her waist and accentuated every not so subtle twist of her strut. She purposely stepped a little further than the rest of the line until she was directly in front of me. Me, a silly man, a deer in the headlights, eyes wide open, not knowing the wreck about to happen. Ignorance and lust, nothing like it to make a man sit stunned, a mark in every sense of the word, the angel, she knew she had me, she knew. That was it, she knew what she was going to do.

Also published in: Broowaha
12012011 

Lure – Desire draws you

“She looked like the kind of woman I could fall in love with. Trouble is, she was standing next to the kind of woman I’d like to make love to. 
” ― Jarod Kintz, This Book Has No Title
 

Your song, whispered in a sweet sensual incantation

The spell so strong, I cannot resist


Your voice, inspiring a delicious strong sensation

The lure so sure, I cannot run


Your eyes, creating potent captivation

The draw so clear, I cannot stop


Your enticement, Leaving no reconciliation,

Laying down my defense, I can only surrender

Also Published in: Broowaha 

Also published in Wingposse, August 2012

08212011

Lure – Desire draws you

“She looked like the kind of woman I could fall in love with. Trouble is, she was standing next to the kind of woman I’d like to make love to. 
” ― Jarod Kintz, This Book Has No Title
 

Your song, whispered in a sweet sensual incantation

The spell so strong, I cannot resist


Your voice, inspiring a delicious strong sensation

The lure so sure, I cannot run


Your eyes, creating potent captivation

The draw so clear, I cannot stop


Your enticement, Leaving no reconciliation,

Laying down my defense, I can only surrender

Also Published in: Broowaha 

Also published in Wingposse, August 2012

08212011

We Are One – Intimate fusion of we

“Blake said that the body was the soul’s prison unless the five senses are fully developed and open. He considered the senses the ‘windows of the soul.’ When sex involves all the senses intensely, it can be like a mystical experience.” – Jim Morrison
 
ehdwallpapers

I hold you firmly, one hand placing yours above your head

The other, finding its way down the silken trails 
of your neck, your breasts, your hips
Your sighs match my hunger, my hands eagerly 
finding all of you
My mouth, watering from anticipation, finds yours,
Our breath hot and sweet together, like warm chocolate
Tasting the dew from your flowering fields,
I join with you, deep in your love, 
my kisses tender, biting your lip, then your neck,
Drawing a touch of red from my excitement
We fall to the floor, wild vines of passion bind us
Twisting, pushing, feeling, holding, tasting, teasing
Dancing with rhythm, a steadily increasing tempo, 
hypnotic, enticing
I see in your eyes, mischievousness, excitement, 
an appetite for more of me
Falling into you, the branches of our intimacy
Fuel a raging fire, our worlds warmed 
with its white hot glow
The lust driving our souls, planets crashing together
Creating a fusion, elements not on either, now on both,
We are one

Also published in Broowaha
12292011

The Queen – Chapter 12

picture credit:mnginteractive

Leaving with my head still full of meds and wine, my lust still on her lips, we knew our next steps controlled the destiny of years. I didn’t care for what my life was before her. To be by her side, to feel her hair brush against me, to hear her voice call my name, these are what my life consisted of now. We waited on the corner for a ride she arranged while I was asleep. I nodded briefly, a victim of my hangover, and woke when I heard the muffled, “thump, thump, thump, thump” of its muffler.  The car reminded me of an older converted cop car. The hard seats were uncomfortable as I slid in, as my knees rubbed against the armored back of the front seat and I stared at the only eye I could see of the driver in the rear view mirror. Putting my finger through the holes in the security screen to pull myself forward and maintain my balance, I used this distraction to subtly adjust my gun. He deposited a short rubber burn on the road that left a wispy smoke reminder marking our departure from this nether world. I liked riding in this unmarked car, it was sufficiently close enough in appearance to standard issue PD vehicles that it garnered startled reactions from the ambling drunk zombie-like old men, twitching meth addicts, and keen-eyed dealers of illicit pleasures. I laughed at the antics of the riff-raff loud enough for the driver to give me a warning look through his one-eyed mirror. He took his job very serious, and I did as well, knowing that these paths took me through dire straights of exploit and malice. His eyes were cold, like looking down a deep sinkhole, the kind that scared me as a kid but provoked me to explore their dark depths. I loved and hated the feeling of danger. I wanted to both challenge any intimidation of my world, and run like a scared rabbit. She looked out the window, soft hair flowing over her shoulder, holding my arm with a vigorous grip, like a bear holding its prey. My emerging knighthood beckoned me to protect this vixen queen, facing the death-wish actions I had all my life. Thousands of insults and shame producing injustices added many logs to this bonfire of rage. Having held rejection as a lover, I didn’t really give a shit whether I died or lived. But now my anger and boldness met my fear and insecurity, and as I reached under my shirt to dig the gun’s hammer out of my side, I remembered that this is why I work my mundane, back breaking job, so I might see her and escape from the listless world that was mine, outside this Queen’s castle.