Writing, Ideas, & Stories
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.
My heart was your shield
the night the pitch forks came.
Into the steamy fields under
blood moon. Their screams
carried deep into the night.
Anger and fear clouded
their humanity, telling them
to burn.
Burn, burn until everything
is blood red. No devil can save you.
Run through the fields
my heart will be your shield
so you can fight for another.
Pinwheeling through it.
Gentle breeze blows the house
to pieces. Your labeled
The Big Bad Wolf.
Pieces will lie on the
cold Earth for an
unmeasurable amount of time
before it heals.
The contractor never
makes eye contact. Shamefully
assembling the remains as
a toddler builds a playhouse.
The pinwheel spins
until the next great gust.
He once told me the sky was green.
I never questioned him and
without a grain of doubt
behind his trusting grin
I never thought to.
He once told me the world was flat.
Bare footed walks along the
ocean side watching the waves
peak across my toes
before it drowned over the edge.
He once said I would die alone.
Clenching knee’s
drifting into an ocean of sorrow
waiting for the sky
to revert to ocean blue.
We couldn’t make it across the canal.
Waves tossed our tiny canoe before,
before sinking.
The ocean wasn’t always the terror.
The cool calmness sheltred our
boat along the icy tides.
Similiar to before we got on.
The dry lands fuled our
adventure, we didn’t know
it would be our last.
