Writing, Ideas, & Stories
Downed the wildest bottle
filled of tonight’s wonder.
Singing the greatest song
my ears have ever heard.
I’ll be your everything, it’s
now or later she said. I
believe every word that
comes from her lips. You
your rhythm your going
to be my everything.
The loss crawls over me
like the hand of the reaper,,
he comes for me. Slips into
my dreams, night terror,
monster under my bed
Mike Wazowski
took the night off.
The next day’s morning
glare wards off the sickly beast.
Left under the horizon
they’ll stay, forgotten
in the success of the
next.
Micheal staggered, watching the referee make the call, “Geodude is unable to battle, Franklin wins this round.”
Franklin heard the mixed cheers and Daisy screaming louder than everyone else. Martin couldn’t meet Franklin’s glare, only the aisle where his feet rest.
Vanessa stood in the corridor barely visible with her arms crossed never taking her eyes off Franklin.
Franklin readied his next, “Ponyta!” Michael followed, “Wooper!”
Vanessa showed life with a nod of disgust and a savage bite on her bottom lip. Franklin realized this match was rigged, all the type match-ups are in Michael’s favor.
“Begin!”
“Go, Wooper, Water Gun!” The light blue small Pokemon inhaled deeply and shot a stream of water towards Ponyta.
The flaming horse whinnied and dashed to the right leaving the water jet to splash into the first row.
“Ponyta, Quick Attack!” The flaming pony blitzed towards the unprepared water Pokemon sending him to the soft Earth arena.
“Wooper, stand up!”
“Another, Ponyta!” The horse only appeared as a blur dashing across the battlefield, greeting the opponent Pokemon with her engulfed mane.
Wooper’s eyes swirled around, unable to stand. “Wooper is unable to continue, Ponyta, and Frankin is the winner!”
Franklin returned Ponyta and embraced the sudden change in the crowd. Vanessa with the largest grin and her brother and sister cheering above their seat only Martin was absent.
Wine and dined
on the surface
it’s ready,
Hold with care
we’ve done this before
lean and be steady.
She sang this rhyme
and I remember it today,
for it’s the anniversary
of the day she went gray.
Now we gander on the
meaning of this madness,
Alone and cold but loved
we too can be full of gladness.
Signs of the one
walking down 3rd Street
flowing pink sun dress
curly locks flowing down
her slim back.
Remnants visible in the rear
view mirror.
Signs of the one
walking down 4th Street.
That smile lights up my world
fourth of July in May,
may I please remember
this night
under these lights
under these stars
you shine the brightest.
Rolling in the deep
bottom of the pit it rumbles
to the rim. Filling to the top,
fleeing from the heat. Steam
erupts from the mouth,
flying away into the crystal
light orbing around. Erosion
criples the tongue, whispering
to the belly of the beast.
markets sell to few. You
can’t get a refund on
time. Lie for an hour
and watch the clock
strike nine. Time’s
the only way to
count the time
you spent
making
time
count.
Holding onto your wisp,
the feint stench of what you use
to be. Before your grasp
was comparable to an Iron Fist,
Ruler of a meek dungeon,
the warden called you Danny,
now you walk idle halls.
She sat in the weakened Earth holding her spade under a family of lanky trees. Clouds passed over her and she didn’t flinch, only continued to excavate.
Passed over the layer of fresh earth, the unavailable eyes hover over for only a second to blissfully pass. Soft brown, alone and the haircut of a beginning sprouted fruitfully.
Peeled the Earth apart like an onion in her hands. Life folded around her, miniature life forms, stretched worms curled around the roots of sprouting saplings ended too soon.
Warmth of the foundation of her today, she held in her hand, smoothed in her fingers. Smaller beings existed in her palms, crawling around her knuckles, fishing around her muddy boots.
The blazing heat of the crust pressed up against her cheek. She never wavered, challenging the heat of the invincible deity, in its own home, before the gods. She watched the core’s eyes flash around her human body, judging, luring her closer. Charred gates opened for her, and she entered without a cooling third thought.
Saint's Muse 