Thursday, May 31, 2012

a city

And then I looked…

And I saw a cube…

Clear as glass, transparent as crystal,
pearls and jasper and onyx
And they sparkled but not in the sunlight
[because there is no sun]
But in the glory
and the bright might have hurt my eyes
[but it didn’t]

And there was no more curtain
[it’s torn in two]
And there was no more division
[for the former things have passed away]
And there was no more sacrifice
[behold the Lamb looking as though it had been slain]

Immanuel is there
His name is what He does
God dwells with us

here comes the bride

They say the wedding day is the bride’s day.  They say that she is the queen, the head honcho.  And to be honest, they are probably right.  Have you ever seen a wedding magazine marketed to the groom?  “How to lose your beer belly in time for the big day!”  It’s just not the typical wedding magazine headline. 

So, we’ll let the bride have this day.  But when she walks down the aisle, watch the groom.  Watch the man about to pledge his life and love to this woman walking toward him.  Then tell me it’s not his day too.

set before the king

I was in the garden, minding my own business, hanging out the clothes to dry on the washline.  I could hear the king and queen squabbling.  They squabbled better than they ever ruled.  If Their Majesties spent half as much governing as they did fighting, the kingdom would have been the most fortunate of all kingdoms.  But, no.  The just kept fighting.

I stood there, listening to them jabber on as usual.  He was screaming about money, she was screeching about something she ate.

“Oh, give it a rest,” I muttered. 

That’s when that great ugly bird bit my nose.

5.31 Growing Up

“No turn on red” was the first sentence I ever read. I think I read it ten times that day, I was so excited. Grandma had to write the sentence out for me so I could prove it to her.

Then I got to reading about the cat in the hat, and the swan that played the trumpet, and the four sisters who grew into fine little women.

Now I’m reading about red lights as I drive and what I will need to know to teach others how to read those books I did. Just a little strange isn’t it? 

5.30 Villagers

He grew up here, learning with our families. The one who remembered everything he learned. With a gentle word he responded to those he came in contact with.

He knew the right thing to do. He was the one mothers applauded. The one who didn’t seem to be faint of heart.

But he was acquainted with sorrow. Often turned away and misunderstood. Didn’t have the face to amount to much, the village people said.

He was the serious one. Not concerning himself about his own situation. Always worrying about something, carrying weight on his shoulders.

He turned water into wine. 

5.31.12 Sure, I'm a Viking

Oye!  I pillage and plunder and plunder and pillage. I’m a mighty Viking!
And I’ll have you know, I’m actually a better Viking than you imagine.
Sure, I accidently sailed into a tsunami.  And lost both my sails. And that big steering thing.
Sure, I accidently stole from my own house.  And then broke all the windows.  And then uh, burned it…
Sure, I accidently drove my boat into Uncle Bothvar’s boat.  And sank it. 
And  dropped my shield into the sea.
And threw all the sheep into a volcano.
And ended up in the arctic?
Fine.  Yes.  I’m lost.

Flash Part 2, May 30, 2012

Stumbling from the car, he called out. “Are you okay?”
The figure began limping towards him, with an awkward gait.
Whatever it was began to move faster, shuffling.
He stopped. He smelled decaying flesh.
Then he saw it. The gaping mouth, the rasping breathing. It snarled at him, clutching at the air with its mangled hand. Where the other hand should have been there was raw stump.
Turning back to his car, he slammed the door as he got behind the wheel, turning the key.
It was banging on the windshield, cracks forming.
He tried again. “God please….”

Flash Part 1, May 29, 2012

The headlights cut through the darkness as he drove along the empty Florida back roads. He was alone, the hum of the engine only sound breaking the unnatural silence. Mile after mile disappeared behind him as the odometer ratcheted up one notch after another.
As he began to doze, something dashed in front of his headlights. Tires squealed as he slammed on his brakes.  The car began to drift.
Heart pumping, adrenaline rushing, the car stopped, the smell of rubber filling the air.
Shaking, he stepped from the car. He looked up to see a figure illuminated by the headlights.

Remembrance, May 28, 2012

He stood there, hat in hand. His eyes, a steely grey, were glistening from the tears forming as he stared off into the distance. He made no attempt to wipe them away as they ran down his face.
            Laughter broke the silence, and looked up to see a father and son throwing the baseball. The kid missed the ball and bounced and rolled towards the old man, stopping at his feet. The boy ran up looking up at the old man.
            “What’s wrong?”
            Glancing at the wall of names, he sighed deeply before answering “I’m just missing some old friends.”

Home (5.31.12)

I look through the crowd with eager eyes. There is such a huge crowd at the dock waiting to welcome their heroes home. It has been so long since I saw you. I can't believe the war is finally over, and you are finally coming home!
All around me people are greeting husbands, brothers, fathers and lovers with tears of rejoicing.
Where are you, Rich?
Suddenly I'm picked up from behind and swung around.
When my feet hit the ground, I turn around.
It's him. He's safe. He's here.
I fall into his waiting arms and kiss my hero.

And Your Kingdom (for 5.30.12)

(for my dear friend Brittany)

"I bet you'll get a one," she smirks.
"Well, thank you, my dear friend, for that vote of confidence."
"That's just how things go. You need one number, then roll the opposite."
I pick up the die, and roll it around in my hand.
"Come on, get a six, please, get a six..." I whisper into my cupped hands.
"That doesn't work..."
"Maybe not for you, but it has a 30.5% success rate with me."
I drop/chuck the die onto the board.
"HA!" I point triumphantly at the six shown by the die. "I mock you and your kingdom!"

Worth the Wait (for 5.29.12)

I look out the kitchen window at you, working in the garden. You stand up and stretch, then walk into the house.
The chair creaks and you groan as you sit down.
I turn and laugh.
"What's the matter, old man? You tired?"
You just grunt and begin eating the food I set in front of you.
"Thank you for choosing me."
You look up and smile.
"Thank you for thirty-one years of happiness. Happy Anniversary, Love!"
"Thirty-one years," I echo.
"So, was I worth your wait?"
I chuckle.
"Of course you were, Silly."

The Conquered, Part 8: Reaping (final)

I took him into my home, raised him as my own.

Now I lie at his feet, my bones broken, blood streaming onto the floor.  

His people were bloodthirsty, unstoppable.  No one could resist them.  All the surrounding kingdoms lived in fear.  So I devised a plan.  I befriended them, tricked them into being conquered.  Even then they never stopped resisting.  So I had to put them all to death.  But when I found him, so small, so helpless, how could I not try to save him? 

My family’s death-cries tear at me.

This is my reward for showing mercy.

Midnight (for 5.28.12)

“Pst…pst, Kathy, it’s midnight! Kathy wake up!”

A little boy starts rolling his little sister out of her bed.

“What is it, John?”

“He’s here!”

“You heard him?”

“No, he doesn’t make any noise, but he must be here. It’s midnight!”

“Are you sure this is a good idea? What if he sees us?”

“Stop being such a fraidy cat and come on!”

The children creep down the stairs.


“What was that?” They turn and run back up the stairs.

“Do you think he saw us?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“We’re never gonna get any presents now,” groans the little girl.

Big Deal (for 5.27.12)

“It’s not like anyone got hurt. I just don’t get what the big deal is.”

“Caleb!” I shout louder than I meant to. “Caleb,” I say in a whisper, “the big deal is that you went against the rules of the settlement, and the punishment for that is death!”

“Look, Mom, it's fine, no one saw me, and no one got hurt. It’s not a big deal!”

“Caleb,” I say in an even tone, “they have cameras everywhere! Didn’t you know that?”

He shakes his head, the color draining from his face as the cold reality sinks in.

My Caleb is going to die.

No Escape (For 5.26.12)

The door to my room slams behind me, but the sound of breaking glass makes me stop.


Silence is my answer.


“Run Mae! Run! Go get your father!” My heart races.

I turn and run.

Before I can get to the door, it flings open and five men dressed in police uniforms enter my house. The tallest officer grabs me roughly by the hair.

I’ve trainded for this; I can get away

But even as I think this, the officer shoves me out the door. My heart sinks:

The streets are crawling with police. There is no escape.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

{rest stop} (for) 5.16.21

It was extremely late when they pulled into the gas station. Only one of the six lights was on, and even that one only flickered. It was a sketchy place to say the least, but Kayleigh had to pee. So, 3 hours into the road trip, they pulled into the second gas station they had seen. It was a dark, skimpy place, but it had a restroom. As Kayleigh's mom turned around to tell her daughter that they had arrived at a potty she realized that after the hours of announcing that she had to pee Kayleigh had fallen asleep.

5.30.12 Shadow's Defeat

It starts as a whisper.  High above the horizon.
Light like a candle, small and harmless.  I like it.
Then it grows.  Reaching into crevices and corners.  Reaching across my forest.
Reaching into my soul.

Every defect, every self inflicted scar showed red and vivid before the light.

I pull away, tears burning my face.
                Leave me leave me leave me! Take your light away!!
It grows brighter.  Now I see for all my efforts, this is what I could not do.
It’s dangerous.  Terrifying.
It lights the world from ground to sky. And tears the scars from my soul.

5.29.12 Shadow's Victory

I hold my dreams up to the sky, begging the stars to take them.  To light the world again.
                Fill this blackness with my light!   Chase the shadows with my might!
But there’s no answer to my cry.  The stars have gone.  My darkness chased them away.
I believed the lie, I killed the song inside my heart for a place to hide my dirty soul.
My heart is broken, its blood has stained my chest.
I force my way through the dark. Blind.
I close my teary eyes.  Weep.
I try to remember. Can’t
Was there ever any light?

5.28.12 Shadow's Beginning

There’s a shadow reaching to the sky.  Dark and grey and undefined, cast by nothing.  It’s conjured up by the blood of those hiding from the scream of their shame.
Up it rises.  To cover the sun.  Make day as dark as night.
Always night but no more stars.  Terror ruins every dream.  Chains like vines grow here.  This is the perfect place to hide a blackened soul.
                Pour your blood into the pot.  Make the shadow thicker.
                Give your soul its gloomy shelter.
I cower in darkness, hands bleeding.
Tied to the ground, weeping.
Where is my promised rest?

5-30-2012 Torture

The water closed over his head and he allowed himself to sink to the bottom of the murky pool.
He waited as long as he could before pushing off. His bound wrists impeded the swim up. 
His head broke the surface, water choked him from all sides as he tried to breathe, his captors splashing him, disconcerting him. 
He gasped for air, coughing and gagging. 
It stopped, and he tried to breathe before he was forced back under. 
This time he would not come up. 
“We won’t come for you son.” 
He knew what he had to do. 
He knew.

{breath deep, my darling.} 5.30.12

ahh, yes. breath deep, my lovely. don't you know?
it’s summer, my dear.
ah, my child. listen. incline your ear and hear the summer breeze.
do you hear them?
ah, yes, my dearest. look at the stars. look at how they shine for you.
yes, my dear grandchild. look into my eyes. breath deep. smell the sweet, sweet, smell of summertime.
pay close attention to the music of summertime.
listen to the melody.
and don’t forget, my child.
don’t forget.
breath deep the air of the sweet sweet summer. 

and get lost in a world 
all your own.

(for 5-29) Blood and War

He rushed to her tent. Dropping to one knee as he entered, he knelt, gasping for breath. 
She whirled around, her hair twisting about her, her leather armor clinging to her figure, every inch looking the queen she was. 
“What? What is it?” she demanded coldly. 
The man couldn’t reply for a moment as he struggled to breathe 
“H-He’s here. He fell in battle. Our soldiers guard him now.” 
She stalked over to her table, where her blood colored sword threw red into her face, turning her blue eyes red. She gripped the sword, smiling.
“I will kill him.” 

When all the World is Dark (for 5.25.120)

She stares into the darkness.

“Daddy? DADDY?”

“What is it, Sweetheart?”

“I heard a noise. I think it’s a monster. Can you check under my bed?”

“Well what does a monster look like?”

“It has the eyes that shine in the dark, huge pointy teeth, four arms that end in horrible claws, and…and those things that octopuses have.”

Her dad lies down on his stomach and looks under her bed.

“I don’t see any. Oh and here is a special spray. Now, if you see any monsters, just spray them with this, and they will disappear!”

“Does it work?”


Fields of Heaven (for 5.24.12)

I walk up the mountainside.

“How much farther, Lord? I’m growing weary.”

“Not much longer, my child, just persevere.”

The mountain begins to level out, not completely, but the incline lessens and the path becomes greener. I reach the crest of the hill. What I see takes my breath away.

The sky is amazingly blue, unlike any color I’ve ever seen. The grass and trees are so vividly green; it’s like I woke up and am seeing everything for the first time.

“Thank you, Lord, for bringing me here!”

“Well done, my faithful child. And welcome to your new home!”

Flowers of Despair (For 5.23.12)

I kneel by your headstone, your finial bed.

You died too soon. I never got to know you. There are so many things I wanted to teach you. I waited so long for you. I wanted you, looked forward to meeting you. I loved you with all my heart. I still do. Even though you are gone, I dream of meeting you. I never dreamed that I could love and miss someone so much, especially someone I only met once.

“I love you,” I whisper.

My tears fall onto the flowers by your grave; my tears watering the despair in me.

The Conquered, Part 7: Last Mistake

I pulled the arrows from my chest with my own hands.  You should have sent soldiers after me, to make sure I was dead.  But the vengeance of my people won’t let me die until you are repaid.  My wounds are deep; they may kill me, but not until you’re dead.  

My own soldiers found me, unconscious, clinging to a limb of a dead tree.  They promised to fight with me.  That’s true loyalty.  But you wouldn’t know what that is.  You haven’t had to bleed to save another.

I am coming for you, my master.

Do you remember fear?

{variables} (for) 5.27.12

I hate math. The numbers and equations, lines and graphs, patterns and circles, variables and givens, formulas, and on and on and on. Nothing ever works out just right, instead I end up with a jumbled mess of numbers that don't make any sense at all. “f” functions in my life as one big nuisance, “x” equals pain, and parabolas are maxima trouble. No, I like words. I can manipulate them so that they make sense and sound good, I like symbolism, and annotating, and explicating.
Numbers just are not my thing. And there's nothing variable about that.

{Stats.} (for) 5.15.12 (written) 9.6.11

1.8 million died from aids in 2009. 4,477 US troop casualties. 42 million abortions per year. 2,819 killed in the 9 11 attack. 6 million Jews killed in the Holocaust. 42,636 people die in car crashes every year.
They have become numbers. They are, to us merely statistics, words on a page or lines on a graph. But to them-their family and friends, to their Creator they were more. Fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents, they were best friends, husbands and wives. They were more, but now they are gone. 
They had voices of their own. 

{dream} (for) 5.14.12 (written) 1.30.12

She stood in front of the window facing me. It was night, but there was a dark glow that seemed to surround her because I could see her clearly. She had an ethereal sort of presence, but it wasn't beautiful and awe-worthy; it was eerie and thin. Her long, straight, white-blond hair framed her face. She looked out of place... I tried talking with her, tried to get her to move but she wouldn't respond. I had decided I wasn't afraid, but that conviction was slowly leaving me. And now as I remember, I think she was dead.

(I know, I wrote this awhile ago, but if I want to even attempt to catch up I have to write 15 drabbles. 15! so I'm cheating and posting one I wrote awhile ago. :) 

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

fire hydrant

The sun beat down in unrelenting heat, scorching my nose and the tops of my shoulders.  The ache in my throat burned from lack of fluid.  My tongue started sticking to the roof of my mouth.

I looked down at the asphalt under my feet.  There was a small stream of water trickling on the ground.  I followed it to its source.  A red fire hydrant, burst open, spraying water everywhere.  I dropped to the ground and opened my mouth wide.  My head snapped back from the impact.

When you’re drinking from a fire hydrant, sometimes you miss some water.   

5.29 The End

Remember when we closed our books with a final thump? When we rushed to get them out of the kitchen and into storage? When we asked Mom what we were doing to celebrate?

Remember when we ran on empty playgrounds because the neighbors were still in school? When we got together to trade skills to better understand our work?

Remember when we watched the big kids celebrate the end?  When we were handed certificates and collected our best works?

Remember when we always asked each other when their last day of school was? Now it’s here, and here it stops.

{she's staring back at me.} 5.29.12

I look at myself in the mirror and I don’t like what I see.
I see huge bags under my eyes, and a toenail that’s broken.
I see pants that should fit right, and a shirt that hangs way too loosely.
I see fingernails that need repainting and hair that needs fixing.
I see someone whose out of place in a world full of beautiful people.
but you are beautiful.
I love your hair!
You’re perfect.
I love your nails.
I don’t see it.
I see imperfection.
I see things that need to be changed.
So I blame society for ruining me.
When you look in the mirror and don't like what you see. It bothers me too,  you know.

The Conquered, Part 6: The End?

Your soldiers chased me to the edge of the precipice.  Who was it that discovered my plot, that betrayed me?  Your chief advisor rides next to you with a smug grin.  He will die slowly; this I swear.

With anger hot on your face and with a word, your guards let loose their arrows.  Three plunge into my chest.  I topple backwards over the precipice.  Blood gushes from my wounds, drifting above me as I fall into darkness. 
My blood.  The last of the blood of my people.   Avenge us! they cry.  But the darkness wraps around me.