Getting Nowhere

Insanity, this manic key

to damning possibilities,

the storm before a calm

embrace, displacing

and defacing me.

Imagination-killing spree;

ingest an hour’s rest

before investing every

inch of me

      to best

a blank computer screen.

And lo, do I succeed?

Fuck no, but that’s the way

destruction goes, when words

forget their flow,

      effete,

like old, depleted seas.

But suddenly, a spark

ignites ungodly

tides of genesis-light,

a pyre, bright, it smites

my indecisive tendencies.

I feel the turn at hand,

and if I’m any man

      of value,

I’ll be Hercules,

unleashing multitudes

in spiritual liberty.

That’s when I’ll see

the end and every row,

      I sow,

will find its flow,

insanity can go to hell

and finally leave me be.

And when I’m

bullshit-free, you’ll know

the Starry Skies, I see,

and when you close your eyes,

my undisguised

designs will set you free.

For Percy

He lies upon a bed of glass,

In the broken shade of a blackened tree,

As demons shake the ground

With gouts of flame

And the world turns upside down.

He lies upon a bed of glass,

Undisturbed by the discord of war,

Where bullets burst from powder flares

And sinful rains

Howl with deathly showers of red.

He lies upon a bed of glass

And doesn’t see the skirmish’s end,

Nor hear the rallying cry… “For Percy,”

When their nemesis fell

Beneath the grim wheels of vengeance.

He lies upon a bed of glass

And cannot feel the trembling hands,

Of tearful allies, who sob, “Come back,”

Yet find their anguished pleas to go

Unheard by stagnant ears.

He knows not that he left them behind,

Nor cares where he goes from there,

He abandoned all worry

As his soul spilt upon the battlefield,

Where he lies upon a bed of glass… asleep. 

Two Sentence Tuesday #55

Spiraling pillars of dusty, leather-bound tomes climbed the cavernous hall like struggling giants, grasping for the ceiling. Even in the lightless chamber, their gold-leaf lettering sparkled like starlight and I could hear animated whispers, calling out from between the pages… inviting me to play.  

Two Sentence Tuesday #54

No sooner had Jasper filled his swimming pool with silver dollars, when he had done a graceful arc off the diving board, intent on making a luxurious splash. Trussed up in his hospital bed, several hours later, he was forced to concede that he wasn’t Scrooge McDuck. 

Two Sentence Tuesday #53

Unnatural dread jolted down Hank’s spine as the ground beneath his feet quaked with reverence for the colossal being who had inexplicably materialized before him. Its vast eyes flared with the light of an ancient sun and, as Hank tearfully met its harsh glare, he recognized the fury of a wrathful god.

Two Sentence Tuesday #52

Titanic swirls of withering light coalesced around a perilously gyrating blot, struggling against the suffocating grip of unbeing. The light glittered feebly as it faded into the darkness and the universe around it had continued its onward march, completely oblivious.  

Two Sentence Tuesday #51

He had chased his thoughts around the acreage of his mind, hoping to ensnare something resembling a good idea in his nets. Little did he know, his good ideas were all snickering from the brush, watching him struggle in the desperate pursuit of cleverly-disguised mediocrity.