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. 

Two Sentence Tuesday #50

            As aspirations go, some people strive to plant their flags upon the mountaintops while others won’t rest until they’ve reached out and touched the stars. For Harry, he was winning at life if he could afford a victory dance on the knoll across the street.

Two Sentence Tuesday #49

            Zane had closed his eyes and, taking a deep breath, opened his mind in a way he had previously never thought possible. In that moment, his consciousness expanded beyond the boundaries of his fleshy shell and he could feel the boundless heartbeat of the universe, itself, beating within his chest.

Just Another Saturday Night

I met a girl down by the station,

On my way to a swank celebration,

Said she “wanted to talk”,

So we went for a walk,

Now I’m feeling a burning sensation.

Two Sentence Tuesday #48

            Tidal waves of boredom slapped Geoff from one side of the room to the other, as he waited by that infuriating telephone, chanting for it to wake the hell up. When the silence was broken and Tara’s name finally flickered across the display, Geoff could have danced, or sang, or ran a marathon, or climbed a mountain, or done any other Herculean feat the world might toss his way… except actually pick up the phone. 

Two Sentence Tuesday #47

Owen relished those special moments when he could put on a set of headphones and shut out the rest of the world. The Beatles were always a particularly lush vacation from the ambient clutter that usually made his eardrums bleed. 

Two Sentence Tuesday #46

“Is this really it,” he asked, mournfully grimacing.

“I badly wish it wasn’t,” she confessed, her hand on the door knob. 

Two Sentence Tuesday #45

“What the hell am I doing with my life,” I groaned, driving away from my latest disappointment.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” a voice whispered from the backseat.

Two Sentence Tuesday #44

            Each day felt like an exercise in patience for Carl, as he sat there watching the clock smugly mocking him with every grating tick. Some days, it was all he could do to not rip the little bastard from the wall and punt it off the roof. 

Two Sentence Tuesday #43

           Everyone remembers the night the skies burned. How often do you see threads of tangerine flame winding through obsidian clouds? 

Two Sentence Tuesday #42

            Kevin deliriously wrote Alicia a Hail Mary of a love letter, penning every awkward confession he had been too afraid to say aloud. As he read through his completed missive, shameful stabs of cowardice had pierced Kevin’s heart and he hastily crumpled the note into a ball before tossing it into the trash. 

Two Sentence Tuesday #41

            “Have you ever seen so many dead eyes in one place?” Jason whispered, his glance wandering around the room.

            “Well,” Mick hissed, “we are in the DMV.” 

Two Sentence Tuesday #40

            “I’m not sure what’s real, anymore,” Kara moaned, desperate for something to cling to.

            A familiar kiss had unexpectedly found her beyond the veil of her lament and the voice connected to those lips whispered, “That… was real.” 

Two Sentence Tuesday #39

Nobody in the world celebrated mediocrity quite like Ethan did. He prided himself in his ability to give the barest minimum of fucks possible, any time an opportunity for greatness might happen to show its ugly face.