Patiently… Patiently I sit. 

You chest rises, then falls.  Behind your eyelids, your eyes dance as if lost in some strange world.  I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking don’t let me wake up.  Please, don’t let me out of this world.  And I won’t blame you for the simple fact that I can’t.  I can’t gather my wits enough to figure out why even the most terrifying dream beats this sad reality.  If it weren’t for you, I would sleep forever.   

We should sleep forever.

I wish as your dreams begin to fade.

Scary Story (it's a work in progress and lacks a title)

A heavy thump lands on the thick wooden door. I remain silent, hiding my presence. Another loud thump. The ancient metal doorknob rattles. Chills run down my spine. An eery something floats past the curtained windows. The light darts from the shadow, afraid to be consumed in its darkness.

Just last week old Henry died. Since then, things around here haven't been quite right. A silence fell over the small town; a stillness shadowing every hope. Children cry out in the middle of the night, screaming “There's something staring in through my window!” Bright eyes looking in. Their parents run in but then stand frozen in fear, unable to tell them “It's all just a dream.”

Town Sheriff Damien Alexander told Mayor Lark to hold a meeting out on the green in front of the Mayor's office. The Sheriff looked down onto his scared community and said, “We are approaching our darkest hour. There is something in this town that can only be explained as evil. You've all seen it, heard your children cry, and felt as it passed through you, darkening your every thought. It has tormented us. Threatened us-”

A shriek lit through the air.

All the eyes of the town turned quickly to the tall white Church standing on the edge of the green, directly across from the Mayor's office. A black shadow, or creature, neither human, nor natural, shining eyes peering back out at the crowd, turned and glided into the church. Right through the closed and locked doors.

The town waited, in both fear and silence, and watched.

Old Henry was a quiet man. A gentle, quiet man. He kept to himself in his well-kept cabin that stood beside the Church. Sometimes he would wander across the green singing to himself as the seasonal breeze would wisp his thin, grey hair about. Every Sunday, he could be spotted at Church. He would sit right in front. He could sing every hymn, recite any prayer. He knew everyone in the town and knew every stranger.

On his porch, he would sit every night. With a wood carved pipe in one hand, and a thick leather bound book in the other, he would look out into our town as if he were expecting Death to walk up the sturdy steps to his home and greet him and take him into the beyond.

~

The curtains over the windows breathe in and out. The walls bend in towards the room as unnatural footsteps cross the room. I hold my breath, or rather, I cannot breathe. Fear flows through my body. Boots covered in fresh muck and Earth pass by me, so close that I could reach out and touch them. He stops suddenly.

The rain and wind outside pick up with a terrifying force.

A deep laugh fills the hallow room. Then silence. Nothing. It is as if he vanished into thin air.

Something grabs on to my foot.

~

Discovered by Town Sheriff Damien Alexander on the date of March 25, 1999

Dear Mary Beth

I can feel the darkness creeping in. I can feel it taking over. Consuming my being. It eats away at my soul. Tears angrily and ferociously at my heart. My head. Throbs with a pain so sharp that I cannot hear. I cannot think. I am losing myself to the monster dwelling in the darkest corners of my mind. The untamed beast that scratched and howled, that tore away the hope in my mind.

It has been five days. Five days, I think. I hope. No longer can I feel my breaths circulate down through my lungs. I can only think of the demons that take me over .Take control. Squirming through my once lucid thoughts.

The darkness envelopes around me. Slowly, my mind turns. Ripping my every thought apart and dissecting it into a million misshapen pieces. I am lost.

I am losing the battle and cannot find the strength to continue onward. I cannot find the hope to see the light. I cannot even imagine light. I can only accept this darkness as a sign that I may never escape.

Time is dwindling. Moments forgotten because the oxygen in my lungs cannot find its way to my brain. Because my mind is lost in this angry sea of black and deeper black. Sludge and slime. I am drowning and I don’t even have the courage

to save myself.

Sincerely yours,

Nathaniel Hawkinz

~

Nathaniel Hawkinz was a cheerful man. He had a lovely wife, Mary Beth whom cared deeply for him. When he disappeared, she searched for days. The town warned her against it. If he was the one possessed by whatever darkness had fallen across the town, it was best for her to keep away. It would only hurt her more. 
To be continued.... 

Hostage to the Devil: The Possession and Exorcism of Five Contemporary AmericansThe Dark Sacrament: True Stories of Modern-Day Demon Possession and Exorcism

Happy Father's Day

I was thinking of the perfect present... something that spoke for the ages, while listened for the youth. Something that said “Look through me to see the bigger picture,” rather than “Look at me and take me for what I am.” Something selfless but told your story. I was looking for you.

I gathered my sense, or at least all that was left. Carefully, I poured it into my silk pouch and tied it tight. Letting it fall deep into my pocket, I went out in search of you.

The journey was long, hard, and lonesome. Many a times, I fell and could not find the strength to sit back up for what seemed to be all too long. I just sat and listened, hoping that in the silence, I would hear you. The nothingness echoed through the air as I waited in still madness, speaking only to myself.

Sometimes I would sing, hoping my song would bring you home, whispering the words:

Silent as the dreaming day

restless as the summer's breeze

Listen to me,

and soon you'll be home

But it failed each time while I sat and thought of the reasons why. Why are we down to this? This comforting silence and unknown questions answered by the turn towards the sun. I worry sometimes that I'll never find you at this rate.

As the Summer turned to Fall, and the Fall into Winter, the cold wind prevailed on the frozen Earth. I pulled my covers tight each night, as I thought of where you could be . I mapped out every corner of everywhere, or so it seemed. But whenever I thought I had you, you slipped away into infinity.

One night I prayed. Or attempted at the very least. Down on my knees, I pulled out my silk pouch, containing only the last few bits of that sense I once had. As I rubbed it warm, in between my hands, I thought for centuries. I thought of all the places.

At last, I walked onto the iced over lake and cried out to you. I yelled “Father! Why have you left me here so alone? No longer can I do this on my own! Come back to me Father, I am too young to sit on this throne!”

And like that, you were there. A smile crossed your face as your eyes were all aglow. I reached my hand out for yours and for that moment, we were infinite. As if in that moment, our lives were forever; we were immortal. You hugged me tight and you said, “Do not fear, I am always here.” Then you pulled my hand to your heart and asked “What is it that you feel?”

That was when I realized that

Each moment I searched, you sat and watched from afar. Never was I so alone, because as your heart beats, as will mine. Never for a moment will their rhythms beat out of time.

So there I sat, out on the frozen lake. Time standing still, I thought. I thought and thought about what had taken me this far. Was it the wind? Or curiosity? Or a hope that in my search for you, I might find myself? I do not know, but I know it wasn't a journey traveled alone. As I turned back, I knew I wasn't on my own.  

To Fathers

Dear Dad,

Just in case you ever wonder,

I’m doing alright.

My grades are decent,

   Sean is good,

and hockey is hockey. You know how that goes.

        Well,

I still don’t like that singing teacher. But don’t get the wrong impression.

I’m being good. Quiet. I swear, I don’t say a word unless she speaks to me.

I decided that singing like a man is the only way to please her and it seems to so far.

You know,

it’s weird, Dad.

This life,

this everything.

Sometimes I think it’s great. Everything is just working itself out. But this time, I don’t know.

I will never truly know.

But what if there is more to all of this?

What if I make the wrong choice,

         or fail?

Or fall and can’t find the will to get back up...

Will you lend me your hand?

You once made a promise to me that you would

saying that you will

                       always love me.

                       always hug me.

                       always be on my side.

And you wanted me to know that…

just in case I ever wonder.

I do wonder sometimes,

as I stare out into the depths of space,

       if you mean it.

If you mean each and every word

that you have promised me.

How do you know that you will always be by my side?

What if the distance is too great and I somehow lose touch? What then, will we do? There are so many questions, Dad.

So many that you seem to know the answers to.

And how can you be so sure?

Why can you see this great destiny while all I see is the uncertainty between my shifting toes?

And just in case you ever wonder, I never go a day without you here. Each choice, memory, and each run, you are there. Do you remember... do you remember my first cross country race? I ran so hard but wore myself out by the second lap and yet, you ran next to me the whole time. You told me I could do it. And I did. Look at me now, Dad. Look at how fast I am. How smart, tall, strong, and how much like you I am. And you told me to stand by my convictions and I’m doing just that. 

You told me that I’m a writer and I could write the world into a better place. Maybe that’s what I’ll do. If you believe it, maybe I can.

And just in case you have ever wondered, Dad,

I will always love you.

Love,

Boo

Day Dreams in India

All that I want is to love you

            to hold your hand
    Hear your voice
                       Just know that you're thinking of me
                   or you miss me
But I want you to be happy
           so I can't be selfish

Still,
            I can only wish
            that when my eyes lock onto the North Star
             You know to look to the sky
and our minds won't meet
                   But hey,
              it's worth a try

Because I want to
and I know you do too

Like when we laid on our backs
           out on my trampoline
while the sun shined brilliantly down on us
           and I asked you:
What do you like the most about love?

You said it was the intimacy
                         Knowing that you can always count on me
                          that we can do anything
and how we laugh and joke
         how you tease me
holding me down until our lips meet
                      curl up into a smile
                             then kiss

And I can only think
             these are the moments
             that we'll truly miss

Insanity

Never did a sunflower grow while hiding in the shade of day

When dusk and dawn collide

then crash

               down

into the universe expanding onto a black canvas

Where everything and nothing coexist

And it is right

...

Never did a sunflower grow while hiding in the shade of day

When rhyme and reason cease to make sense

and instead,

                -time stops

…

Never did a sunflower grow while trying to grow as another flower

T'would be silly,

                    am I wrong for thinking so?

For if a rose has a thorn

and a bed has a frame

then what shoes do jesters wear?

Or do they wear any at all?

…

Never did a sunflower grow while hiding in the shade of day

After envy sank her fangs into its small neck

injecting her lethal poison

             as she skirted away

       with a crowd cheering close behind

while the sunflower withered into a mere skeleton of what it could have become

Quivering Knees

I wandered alone

though my mind was with you

as I sang a song to no one in particular

about nothing that would be useful to anyone at all

About the towering trees,

the bumbling and ever-so-humbling bees

bounding their way through the wildflower fields,

and my quivering knees

on the day that I first met you

Of the days that flew by

while the hours droned on

and a life that only I

       can so clearly imagine

Like a dream passing through

the memories left unkempt

in a journal long forgotten

    -perhaps locked away from the light of day

That children go out in search for
after hearing the stories from their grandfather
while he quietly wishes to himself
              that the journal was his to keep
rather than an inescapable thought
that leaves him in a restless daydream

While he sings to nobody in particular
about nothing that would be useful to anyone at all
His eyes growing faint

As my heart was

                once long ago

when I wandered alone

       
      and yet,

  my mind will always be with you.

A Call To Arms (Finding a Passion)

I'll be honest with you. All of you. It really is not as difficult as you make it out to be. It is not as complicated, cruel, deceiving, and selfish as it's been described to me as. Read Corinthians sometime, you know, in the Bible. It's a good book believe it or not. I haven't read it all but then again, you don't have to read a book all at once. And that's another thing. Reading. You need to read. Read anything. Everything. Read all that you can because the more educated you are, the more useful and well rounded you are. The more stimulated your mind will be. Find something you enjoy, dedicate time to it, and love it for all that it's worth. And that is what I'm trying to get at.

Love. Passion. That yearning to do something for pure and simple joy. Sheer joy. I mean, honestly, can you tell me what you love? Take a moment to reflect. Did you have to think long and hard on it? No offense, but if so, I feel sorry for you. You've been on this planet, living and breathing, for a decent amount of time yet you lack a driving force to move yourself towards something bigger. Somewhere better. Anywhere. Where's the fire in your heart to do something? Become someone. We're all in search of who we are. Who we are to become. And what we're here for. If you claim that you're not, then you're lying to yourself and others. And I'm not saying you have to find a hidden temple, solve the world's most difficult math equation, cure cancer, or change the world like that. Just do something that makes you happy and motivates you to become someone better. Become all that you can be.

Love what you do, love who you are. Love those around you because as much as you might not be able to stand them, the more you learn to tolerate, the better off you'll be. The more positive you are, the easier life will seem. Life isn't always roses and butterflies. Sometimes life really does suck. Sometimes you do need a moment to break down and cry for a bit. But you have to move on eventually.

Make goals. Fulfill those goals. Eat what you want and enjoy it. Meet people and be genuine.

Listen to what others say. Truly. Don't just hear. There is a difference you know.

Believe in the goodness in everyone and realize that darkness lurks in all of us.

Love the life you have. Live and lead a life that you can love.

Just find something or someone that will help you become a better person, and then love that someone or something with everything you have in you for blessing you in such a way.

Because love never gives up nor does it ever give in. Love never fails.   

Lily Grey (a sestina)

Her name was Lily Grey

And like the breeze, she is free

As she dances among the rolling hills painted green

With the coming of Spring. Oh, she was young,

A true angel in her fair town.

           -you can still hear her father cry.

She would wake suddenly with nightmares and he would whisper “don't cry

my dear, I'll never let anyone hurt my Lily Grey.”

The folks still whisper about her in town

As if she'll come bounding back home, hair flying free

Her image frozen in time, she will be young

Like Spring's first green.

Like the first humming bird, flapping wildly, body a blurred green,

Or the world after eyes rubbed red from a long, hard cry

over how she was so young.

Oh, that poor Lily Grey!

Though now her soul runs free

throughout her mourning town

It was only three Springs ago that the bells rang across this town

The dress she wore was a floral green

as she sang so loud and free

“The lilies are in full bloom!” while her song became a joyous cry

And that was the dear Lily Grey.

She was so young.

...So young.

They sent search parties out from the town

They crept through the forest, yelling out “Lily Grey!

Come home, little one!” Only to find themselves lost in a thick green

brush. Struck by despair, they could only cry.

Her footprints led deeper into the wood, as if she had simply broke free.

As if she just kicked off her shoes and thought to herself I am free

Her thoughts deranged from being so young

but a man who had searched swore he heard her cry

for her father, or that's at least rumored throughout town

Like how her eyes reflected the depths of Heaven, such a beautiful green

because everyone loved Lily Grey

They loved seeing her run free through the town

or sitting below the young maple tree in the common; the leaves a fresh green

-And how her father still cries for his dear Lily Grey.

Within Dreaming

Little things recall us to Earth
Like awakening in the depths of the night
The brilliant shine of the stars
Freckling the ever expansive universe
Beauty booming
Beckoning with her nightly songs
To his breath on my neck,
His arm wrapped tight around my waist

Like when reality turns her cheek
And the sky turns a dark, ominous grey
Swallowing up the fiery sun’s
Lustful shine
And dementia takes over
Swiftly as a morning’s bird takes flight
Into the passing hours

But the buzz of the alarm
Wakes me from my quiet dreaming

It’s the little things which recall us to Earth

Prayers

You only pray when something is wrong
When the wrong words are the only words
that you can make out to sound right


When things fall apartand can't be put back together
As the world spins madly by

When closed eyes reveal an open world 
And the dreamer is king

Because let's face it
You only pray when something is wrong
When your world has spun crazily out of control
and not even darkness can pull you deep into its abyss 


You just float by -emotionless-
as you question how you got here
and how you are to get out


While looking up to God, hands clasped together 
as you begin to murmur “Dear God, I know it has been a while... but I really need you...”
We all know that it's true
because we do


We all need you to save us from something
-perhaps just ourselves


And I can only ask,
“Dear God, 
please. Please save us from whatever is to come
And whatever has already passed.
Please, God.Please save me.


Amen"

A Walk Alone With You

Through the woods I went

On a walk alone

with you.

The pink sky faded into the darkening night

While the stars began to emerge;

Their eyes peering down on us.

You took my hand,

as I took yours

Together we walked

on my walk alone

with you.

Wishing to wander

through the gated path to Heaven

While we danced among the galaxies

that spanned out towards infinity

                  -Wherever that may be.

Yet our minds raced

as we traced and retraced

each of our every steps

As the day slid into the depths of night,

I dreamt that I was

On my walk alone

with you.

The Restless Dreamer

A heavy head,

             I dream of when we’ll next meet

Soon I hope

      For if not, I’m drowning slowly

With no one to catch me.

Catch me if you can

Follow me swift like the wind

                Carrying leaves from their Earthly homes

A heavy head,

             I dream of your heart

       Beating in the depths of your chest

As I drift in and out of sleep

The darkness guiding me away

             Into the painted world of dreams

        Against the scarred glass of nightmares

And midnight horrors

Of lucid dreams

And Spring’s gentle breeze

Of Heaven and Hell colliding

The residing

Of turning

And returning

A heavy head

            I dream of waking in your arms

Of knowing it’s reality

Rather than this dream.