Writing, Ideas, & Stories
Standing on a pier looking out-
Seagulls crying to another
waves crashing against the rocks and
wood below.
Youth’s flying kites and running along
the sand leaving behind encrusted
prints of where they have been.
Couples slow placing, looking
for the best lighting to share
their pure happiness. Tourist
with their cameras hurrying
to not miss a site.
The man on the pier see’s it all.
Looking down six feet below to
the roaring waves and jumps.
I hurt myself today.
Fell on a pile of stones left
by myself. By myself at a quarry
staring into the sun for fun.
Late for a date I hurt myself.
My mom called it self sabotage
and she prayed for tomorrow.
Praying I don’t visit the quarry again.
It boils in the pit of insecurity
measured on the tip of my tongue.
It won’t, It won’t
fly like the bird I envisioned.
The bird in my dreams that
flies to new heights, through
the atmosphere and seeing the stars.
It hides in its cage. Chained too
my lunges and sings to
itself about the dream it once
had.
The light shone over the announcer. Michael held the ball high and released and Franklin followed.
“Michael has a Rhyhorn! Franklin matched with a Koffing!”
Rhyhorn shinned under the lights, bright silver, horn on the tip of its nose held high. Digged up the earth with its hooves and locked eyes with the Koffing.
Koffing hovered over the earth stadium. Spotted smog from openings around its oval body. It’s eyes fell lazily around the stadium, drunken from idleness.
Rhyhorn charged, “Rhyhorn, horn attack!” Rhyhorn sent Koffing to the ground, staggered around before resetting.
Franklin watched the Koffing, stumbling on imaginary words, commands for his last battle. His father watched him carefully, the only one in the crowd sitting among the cheering.
Rhyhorn smashed its horn against Koffing and sent it flying backwards, to the edge of the arena. Franklin dropped tears to the battle field as the Rhyhorn delivered the finishing blow to an already staggered Koffing.
“First match, to Michael!”
Both trainers returned their respective Pokemon as the crowd continued with their Michael chants.
Michael, eagerly released his next ball. “Another ground Pokemon, a Geodude!”
Franklin stared at the ball and returned it, and began walking towards the tunnel. The announcer shouted at Franklin, away from his microphone.
“Franklin!”
Franklin’s head jerked up, Franklin met Vanessa’s eyes at the tunnel. Vanessa’s arm’s were crossed and standing straight with an arched brow and squinting eyes. Franklin sank into her eyes, and she gave him a thumbs up.
Franklin retreated to the arena and readied his next ball.
Battle the greats and hear they roar,
roar until tomorrow’s sun rise
on their command. The greats
are only for a single sun
for the new is crowned
for the moon. The sun
opens the gate of the mountain
for the greats to walk their final
journey. Transcend into the
god, becoming the gods
in footsteps left behind.
Franklin stood alone in the tunnel. The crowd muffled, awaiting the announcers call.
Franklin stared at the given Pokeballs. Remembered Vulpix unconscious in his arms rushing towards the Pokemon Center. Daisy’s and Tyler’s face of excitement as the final eight was about to begin. Vanessa.
Franklin remembered the premier ball left by his mother. The industrial paint chips left when they moved into his childhood home. The only two things Franklin has left if her.
“Next up, our last final eight match of the day, trainer 0023 Michael the earth tamer!”
The muffled crowd broke their silence for their hometown hero.
The cold broke across Franklin’s skin. The call came like a shivering gust across Franklin’s cheek.
The crowd apprarend lukewarm in their showing. Michael’s eyes were intense as he gripped his tournament Pokemon waiting for the battle to begin.
Franklin found his father’s eyes in the crowd and he gave him a unowing nod.
“Trainer ready. Begin!”
Can’t be afraid to fail
if you want it all.
It read on the tomb
of a sand filled god.
Spears and free folk
rampart the fields over
his dreams. Pools of
sparkling paradise
decorate the edges,
where the free searched.
Blankets tied the edge of the bed
to the ceiling. Wrapped in tied dyed
sheets from the Dollar Tree with
monkies swinging from branch to
branch. We see things different.
Upside down shows us the way
it’s supposed to be. Anarchy and Peace
hold hands skipping to a better
tomorrow. I wish I could of taken that
blue pill sometimes. Sit up straight and
pretend it doesn’t exist.
Chessy Montage in the comments section
the clean streak is over. We’ve seen
the best of the best in highlight form
living the high life before
I know whats next.
Rolling the pair of dice
looking for paradise
matching the asking price
dying on father’s flotation device.
The sun peeked over the stadium as hopefuls and fanatics rushed to their seats.
“Frank!”
Franklin unmasked the crowd, slashing his arms behind and forward. Martin stood alone at the entrance. Martin’s eyes were hard and never moved away from Franklin.
Daisy and Tyler stood behind as Franklin approached Martin,
“Dad?”
“Frank, we need to go home.”
Franklin shook as people continued to enter the stadium.
“Martin, we can’t leave. I’m, I’m so close. Vulpix nee”
“Frank. We need to go home. A man approached me.”
Franklin saw the old man flash before his eyes behind Martin, entering the stadium. He watched his father hold in everything, unable to convey further.
“He can take our home away, Frank.”
Daisy gripped Franklin’s arm gently as he began to lose his footing. Walking away slowly towards the entrance, hearing the voices of his friends and his father, yet, couldn’t make out the words.
Saint's Muse 