The Untold Story of a Human Sunrise

Dawn is upon us,
           but your,
       internal clock of responsibility,
                        makes you to arise,
                               before sunrise.

     Not that you can enjoy,
                      this daily beauty,
                  jumping in to the shower,
                               for a good,
                                           half hour.
               
          To cleans your body and mind,
                          over sports talk,
                     or that fine tuned playlist,
                                      right as responsibilities kick in.

                                 Did you piss?

                No time,
                      running around,
                                    the house like a chicken,
                               with your head cut off,
                                                looking for misplace things,

                   Coffee,
                             will help,
                                    decipher this puzzle.
                                  speeding up
                                         the placement of pieces
                                In no particular order.

              Keys,
                  cell phone,
                           where's your wallet,


                                         In your pants pocket?
                                   Coat pocket?

                                           Where did you go?
                                                     What did you do?

                                                 The recliner,
                                                         couch,
                                                               office desk?
                                         
                                                   Amazon?

                                                       Check your email,
                                                                  For that late night
                                                                       spending,
                                                                     Splurge.

                                                  Phew,

                                                       sweat is d
                                                                      r
                                                                      i
                                                                      p
                                                                      p
                                                                       i
                                                                       n
                                                                       g
                                       from your brow,
                                   or is it water
                                         from the shower,
                                                   
 
                 Maybe you should sit down.

                                Winded,

                                as other patrons of the house,
                                              begin to rumble,

                                      dazed, confused,
                                              but enjoying
                                                     watching you stumble.

                                 Sorry for the noise,        
                                                 as you raced out the door,
                                                      Right before,
                                                 Questions would be endured,

                                            In your haste,
                                                        you didn't prepare,
                                                    for the winter weather,
     
                                                        Your car frosted,
                                                  But you turn on the car,
                                                                 enough gas,
                                                          to pass,
                                                              for the day,

                                           Reaching to blast,
                                                    the heat,
     
                                            you find your wallet,
                                                   In the center console,

                                              Next to a girl
                                                            named Wendy

         

Key Golf

Somewhere in my dreams
            I awoke in my sleep,
                         Presently surprised
               To meet my father.
                         And play one of his new     favorite games,

                He created a,
         A crudely contrived game,
                                       Where one takes,
                                their life keys,

                  And throws them,
                                        At goals,
                          they wish to achieve.
                 
             I found this odd,
                                   At first,
                          Playing much like golf,

       But all the aspects of sport,
                             Were still there,
                                                Mainly,
                                           luck and skill.

             But the game itself,
                              was quite simple,

                   While standing on a tee,
                            One takes the set of keys (example car keys/house),
                                   and throws them,
                             in an underhand toss,        
                    Toward a goal in the distance,

             Repetition is needed for beginners,
                                              But for pros,
                                     A hole in one is quite common.

        Now once you made your shot,
                             You walk down the hole,
                         Soaking in the view,
                 And instead of pulling out your keys,
                       
                      Your body is teleported,

                                 To the next challenge.        
                       

Tornado

I repeatedly dream of tornadoes,
                                       Which I have come,
                          To expect as,
                                a dream trigger.

There is nothing more scenic,
  then driving up,
           an Appalachian road,
                    In the beginning of spring,
      To get a view,
                     Of the surrounding landscape.

             For the dead of winter,
                               Is slowly giving way,
                         To patches of green,
                                  On the valley floor,
              And the spring blossoms,
                                   have just begun.
           
             The sky is blue,
                             on this meandering road,
                       that hypnotically paralyzes the mind,
                                        with a sense of hope,
                                                          Of the future,

                           Higher and higher,
                                                  I drive,
                               As a brisk breeze,
                                               Picks up,
                                       And I soak in the beauty,

            But the roads summit,
                                           I jam the breaks,
                               And glance below,
                                                    For a storm system,
                                         was tucked away,
                                   in the opposing valley,
 
                           Swirling,

                      I can't see the tornado,
                                             But i know its there heading,
                                      This way,
                                           The breeze picks up,
                                   As trees start to fall,

                         Trapping myself in the car.

                        I get out and race down,
                                                The mountain side,
                                         Looking for a place to shelter,
                                                       And find a dell,

                      I reach the lowest point,
                                      Crouch down,
                                                grab my head,


                                     And realize I'm dreaming.
                 

A Mothers Alarm Clock

Mommie,

              Mommie,

        Are You there???


Mommie,


          Mommie,


   Mommie!!

    You come here right now!

      Mommie!

                Right now!

Mommie,

           Mommie,

             Are you coming?

    Mommie!

         Mommie!

              There you are,
                    

                        I love you.

Normalcy

How To Escape

Part
1, 2, 3

-----------------------------------------

     Seconds,
             Turned into minutes,

         But minutes
              seemed like hours,

                     As the theater waited,
                           Patiently,
                 For the stoners return,

                A stroke of,
                               good luck,
                         Was exactly what,
                                   everyone needed,

            For the lights flicked
                                    back on,

                  And
                       Automation,
                                   Caused...

                        The lights dim,
                the previews to roll,
                     and the recent commotion,
                             to fade,
                                   from memory,

         I turned,
            and looked to my parents,
                         And
                               their concern,
                   Wadded,


                 After the second preview,
          No one noticed,
               The shuffling of feet,
      outside the theater door,

                     Which
                        Sounded more like
                   Patrons leaving,

                           I would have,
                never noticed,

                   If it weren't for,
                              the compromise,
                        of my parents,

                  For with age,
                            Their proximity,
                       To the exits,
                                  Grows,
                           
                     But togeather,
                               we settled in,
              for your typical,
                           Comic Hero,
                                  Saves the day,
                          Summer blockbuster,

                  The drums started to roll,
           The mountain came on the screen,
                                              Stars formed a
                                       Semi circle,
                              at the peak,

                      And the stoner,
              Returned,
                      His body pressed,
                                             Against the door,

             Yelling at the top of his lungs
                     "THEY FUCKING BIT ME"

(Previous Post Next Post)

Another Room

How To Escape

Part
1, 2, 3

-----------------------------------------
             I swung my head around,

                     Immediately

         glancing petrified,

                         at the door, 

                 Nothing,

                          

                     

   It took several moments,

            of silence,

       Before I dared

                      reach for my phone,

              Out of service,

   

                   "Fuck",

                       "What",

                      my breathing 

                                becoming heavy,

                            "What the fuck was that"?

                          Everyone else,

                                       Seemed to have the same,

                      delayed,

                                     but daze,

                                                      Reaction,

               That is,
                       Everyone except,
                   A stoner, 

                       who was sitting behind me,

          With popcorn crumbs,

                          Stuck in his beard,

           He was laughing,

                          Hysterically,

                   Shoving popcorn,

           As fast as he could,

                          Into his mouth,

       Nom,

                  Nom,

                              Nom,

     "Best movie ever man"

                            The stoner exclaimed,

               Slurping loudly,

                                  On his now empty beverage,

                I Glanced
                        at the screen,
                      then at the lights,  

                          And to my astonishment,
                     Began to speak,

                 " Dude....."

                       I said in a hushed tone,

                          "Shut the fuck up,

                                          Do you see any lights on?

                                   Do you really think,

                              That was the movie??"

          A scream sounded,

                    In the adjacent room,

              Like she was hiding,

                                      And whatever is was,

                               Found her,

              The stoner continued

                       "I call that great acting man,

                The stoner got up,

                              and i just like,

                         you know,

                                  don't like your whole,

                     attitude man"

                 I continued whispering in earnest

           "Please sit down and shut the fuck up,

                           seriously what the fuck are you on.

                        theres no fucking power in here."

          I felt the eyes 

                        of the movie theater,

                  Burn into my back,

            The stoner stuttered,

                      "Shhhh shhhouldn't be usin,

                              That  Foul language,

                 Man, 

                    "I'm gonna have to report you,

                               Brodude,"

             My mouth went wide,

                                   Was it shock,

                          I'm not quite sure,

                  But I do know,

                I'll never forget,

          Those last moments,

                            Right before, 

                    He walked outside,

                                        The theater door.

(Previous Post Next Post)

              

Here they come....

How To Escape

Part 1
1, 2, 3

------------------------------------------------------------

              I've had a couple zombie dreams,
                          In my lifetime,
                                    Here's a attempt,
                               To combined them all,
                                                        Together.......

------------------------------------------------------------

                    A low rumbling,
                Vibration,
                         Causes a panicked,
                       sensation,

                       As the sound
                                       waves,
                reverberate,
                        across the city,
                   
                    The latest whale,
               is followed by screams,
                            and shouts,

                    From some distant room,
               As if,
                    The accident happened,
                                              Next Door,

                 Such a commotion,
                             
                            But,
                                  What a devotion,
                                       to agony,
                                   In that scream,

                         The realistic nature,
                                is enough to send a chill,
                             Racing up your spine,

                                It tells you,
                         Somethings,
                                   Ain't Right,

                               A moment later,
                          The theater goes dark,
                              As if some,
                                   Special effect was about to occur,

                 The wail,
                             continuous
                          The scurrying of feet,
                       A door opening,
                                   And shutting,

                   Someone Shouted,
                              "Don't Let Them In" ,

                           And the banging at the door,

            Thud,
                         Thud,
                                      Thud,

                    They're breaking through!!!!!!!

                                 Oh My God HELP US!!! HELP HEEEEEEELLLL........

                         Its just a movie right?

(Next Post)

The Ward

          Reading my dream journal
                           Over the past year,
     this caught my eye,

   The walls were black,
concrete,
         and cold,

           A extensive hallway,
    dimly lit,

           By low hanging,
                    dangling light bulbs,
               illuminates the way,
       
     With each step,
              your footsteps echo,
         racing down the hallway,

     Bouncing off a set of swing doors,
                 As a soft buzz,
            corresponds to the flickering of a light,
                          
           The doors open with a loud creak,
                       As a sound of shuffling paper work
                marks your arrival,

    "I'm here to see patient 237963",
                           I state casually,
                               As the attendant froze,
     
        Again?
              His voice visibly shaken,
                              "You barely made it out last time",

            "Don't tell me how to do my job,
                          I say venomously I reach his desk,
                   slamming my fist down,
                                Grabbing the attendants attention,

       "Now Is the patient available"?
                     I pause but continue without waiting for an answer,
                                "Or do I have to come back later"?

                   "Have it your way, But I'm not going in there again",
                                As he reached for a button,
                         And the bared door,
                                            Swung open,

                    Satisfied,
             I walk through the door,
                          Feeling the attendants eyes,
                  Burn through my back,

                   No matter now,
           I have bigger problems ahead,
                                   Then a frayed,
                          Relationship,

              I Need to get my head right,
          
                        Eyes are everywhere,
                    In the ward,

                As faces peer out though,
                        the cell windows,

                 Their demonic eyes,
                                   constantly curious,
                             To visitors,

             I reach the patients cell,
                          breath deep,
                   And Let my mind go blank,
              As I press the button,
                                       Open the door,

     A loud buzz,
                Unlocks the door....

          The room is pitch dark,
 When I notice,
          a figure in white sits facing the opposite corner,
                    Her body in a straight jacket,

            To contain her,

                  "Back again for more?"
             a whisper somewhere deep in my mind,

                                Is she talking,
                         Or Is that me thinking?

         Don't go crazy again,
                             She turns,
                     Smiles,
                             No guards,

                 As her eyes turn red,

                  I panic and reach for the button again, 
          As all the lights go out,
                        The hallway begins to flash red,
                  and Sirens blare,

            Playtimes over,
                         She races out of the hallway,
                     Just as the door shuts,

                With great speed she's around the bend,
            In the blink of a eye,

                           I give chase,

                 She's made her way
                               To the end of the hall ,
                                  Her straight jacket gone,
                        Somehow torn away,

             I notice blood dripping down her mouth,    
                      As two guards lay,
                                      Sprawled out on the ground,

                            So much blood,
                  So little light,

                                As object wizzes past my body,
                       Impacting the wall,

                                A syringe,
                                            Is she trying to drug me?
                                   Am I just a snack?
                                               This was a horrible idea,

                        I push a wooden table over on its side,
                                                                  as more needles hit with a thud,

                             Protruding through,
                                         I charge using the table as a shield,
                                    Thud,  
                                                 Thud,
                                           Thud,
                                                    I need to watch where I put my hands,

                Its not long before,
                       I slam into her body,

                                But I don't stop,
                                           Until we race into the window,
                                   At the end of the hall,
                                                      We break through,
                                               And begin to fall,

                              You will be mine,

                                               she spreads her wings
                                          and claws into my body.


(needs a re-write tomorrow)

Nightmare

In my lifetime,
       I have experienced many nightmares,
   but none that tried to blatantly scare me so,
                     Since I was a child.

  It was dark,
         pitch black,
  I could see nothing,
          because
       my eyes were closed.

There was a faint sound,
  a mechanical sound,
    an engine,
        And the slight vibrations,
 from the road,

 I'm in motion,
     now what's this commotion?
  Who are these panicked voices?

            I noticed it was warm
   Approaching hot,
           But a window was cracked,
     and cold air blast,
              heightened my senses.

      I opened my eyes,

     We were driving down the road,
Going too fast,
            Dad were going too fast,
   I shouted to my father,
             as he gripped the wheel,
       
 I tried to shout,
            But i was in shock as the vehicle,
       raced to the top of a hill,
           briefly lost contact with the road,
    And is racing down,
         At an alarming rate.

         My father struggled,
                   to keep the car straight,
        almost losing the vehicle,
              to the left,
                  and to the right,

        The front tires
                  suddenly blown,

         But the speed of the car,
              never slowed,
                          Until we approached,
                  Another vehicle,

                        Smash,

                          The car was now connected,
                   to rear,
                         of a police cruser.

           His lights went on,
      And his eyes,
            In the mirror,
                   Told the story,
                begging for us to stop,

           but we couldn't,

           The road was running out,
                we approached a turn,

                A smell of burnt rubber,
                    potently perfumed the air,
              But it was no use,
                      The police cruser was forced off the road,
                      And with a bang,
         and hit a tree,
            
               We continued down the road,
        Several terrifying miles later,
                As the incline of the hill gave way,
          To the valley floor,

          my father
              was finally able to pull the car,
                    to the side of the road,

             But he didn't stop,
                              The car continued,
               down a dirt access road
                      to a lake with a wooden dock ,
                 casting dust in our wake

                  When the arrive at the lake,
             My father was first out of the car,
                    visibly shaken,
                 As we all chased after him,

              But
               Something didn't seem right,
                       There was a smell,
                 Of salt,
                      The Ocean,
                   A feeling,
                              Of Worry,

               I Caught up to my father,
                      but he seemed crazy,
                 insane,
                       Out of place,
                           He didn't understand what happened,
                  and was holding a gun,

             I can't live with what just happened,
                           He stated,
                    I looked away,
     
                I can't live with myself,
                     Look at me,
                   My father shouted,

                  I couldn't,
                          I refused,

            The sound of the gun went off,
                          As tears rolled down my eyes,
                    I heard my sister shouting.

                                Why...

           And those sirens blared in the background,
                searching for answers,
                        
              I was crying,
                    Litterally, crying,
                 As the officer put his arm around me,
                But something still isn't right about this,
                               My father,
                          Wait,
                                My father has already died,
                                    He's dead,
                             Which means
                                             I'm dreaming...........


               I awake in my bedroom and notice my black sheets,
                        wrapped around my body,

                  There grip tightening,

                              I sensed disappointment,
                                   Was in the air,
                                Taken by logic,
                                      foiled a well planed ,
                                           scare,

                       A figure emerged,
                            Grabbing my soul,
                      And throwing it against the wall,
                                  As my body lay,
                          Motionless.

A Knowing Kind of Love

     "Frank!
   Get over here,
     quick,
  Its starting again!"
     Old Martha Barnes stated,

"What!
     Martha I can't hear you,
   when you talk,
      from the other room."
          Old Frank Barnes complained,

       Martha,
  hobbled through,
      the screen door,
        through the kitchen
   and into the living room,

         She noticed,
     the tvs blaring,
        as loud as can be,
  Frank Barns sat,
                Unknowingly, 
     
   She snuck up behind,
 her unsuspecting husband,
         and jumped in front,
     Yelling "i love you",

       "God damn it,
 Martha,
        You scared me half to death."
      Frank stated exasperated,
           Clutching his chest.

    Reaching for the remote,
 Martha turned the TV down,
       To a respectable level,

      "The neighbors are at it again"
        Martha Smiled,
            "The chitting and the chatting?"
                   Franks repression changed

"Oh no they're already yappin."
                           Martha left to the kitchen
            with frank close behind,
      pouring two fresh glasses,
          of lemonade.

   They sat down on the porch swing,
           With voices growing louder,
        Across the way,

                 "Let the squawking commence"
            Frank cheers-ed his wife,
                  a lifetime of memories
       is about commence,
           

       "You never listen to me do you!"
            A women's voice shouted
                 "NO, NO, DON'T PUT THIS ON ME"
           I TOLD YOU I WASN'T GOING
                        LAST MONTH"
                    A mans voice replied with the same intent,

           "Your not going galavanting,
                     with your friends again,
                  When you promised to come with me,"
              The woman stated,

           Old frank barns had 4,
                   fingers up,
             galavanting,
                      what a word,

          The curses came next,
                 and Martha counted,
            Those nasty words,
                    sequentially played,

           Old frank barn,
                 finished his lemonade,
            and placed it on the ground,
                grabbing his wife's hand.

           They danced to,
               the music,
                    of a tune they long forgot,
             and kissed her gently,

                  when the music finally stopped.

The Dinner

Stan,
he's a man,
who likes to complain,

on the phone,
face to face,
it doesn't matter,

the type of guy,
you feel sorry for,
after you spit in his food,
because he's alone in a booth,

absent are his friends,
family,

his cell phone sits,
idly,

a paper weight,
on a stack of napkins,

It only rings,
when debt collectors,
seek payments,
from a previous life,

he was married,
and happy back then,

vibrating softly,
straight to voice mail,

Now divorced and unemployed,
his eyes linger,
At pointless game,
played on a TV far away,

Stan's team never wins,
on any day,

Alas,

not everything is so bad for Stan,
as he sits ready to begin,
an endless rib challenge,

The waiter arrives,
late as usual,
Stan frowns and pouts,
demanding a sequel,

The waiter scurries away,
like a cockroach in bright lights,
leaving Stan alone,
with his though and his might,

Stan glances at his dish
and upon further observation,
the ribs are too dry,
the sauce is so sparse,

and what is this?

a hair,
Stan just stairs,
raising his hand,

as a child across the way,
points,
and laughs,

Stan takes notice,

A bully in disguise,
with parents
              no less,

Stan drops his fork,

                      what a clatter,

His face turns red,
sticking out his tough,
the child returns the favor,
no more no less,

Stan stands now,
and shouts to address,

A hair!
how dare you!
sell me this plate
with a hair!

holding it up,
for all to see,
Stan eats to whole,
for all to see,

the child barfs,
upon the showing,
the manager came,
to whisking Stan away,

the customers were groaning,
jeering at the site,

But there Stan sat,
in a fresh seat,
service with a smile,
stuffed and beat,

But off in the distance,
Stan notices something he has long forgot,

a girl sitting alone,
shedding tears,
upon the new jersey turnpike,

unable to control himself
Stan shouts again,

you there,
girl,
why do you cry,
your worries away,
come have a seat,
it'll be my treat,

she turns,
and smiles,

i would,
but i lost my job,
for there was this giant douche,
who ate my hair,

The Wondering Crack Head

"I'm Crigity Crack",
yelled the hack,
He smokes the smack,out back,

"Yuns fellas all yackity yak,
till the day is black",
He's still holdin his hurricanes in the sack,

Now Mr. Crigidy lives in an ally,
And gets kind on rowdy,
When he sees "outsiders",

"What you lookin at you googly eye fool?"
He hates it when outsiders drool.
There shock and awe,
Created this cesspool,

But taking advantage of their befuddled state,
Mr Crigity looks on with his eyes filled with hate,
Reaching for his tin,
He shouts,

"There’s only one rule",
swinging his arm like he's attempting to duel,
"Dolla, Dolla, d...DOLLAR BILLS YALL"

Frightened for there lives,
The men run away with their wives,

Their footsteps echoed,
A rhythmic beat,
For Crigidy Cracks,
Rapping feat,

"Bj's for my baby doll,,
Don't go running,
Down,
my hall,
Unless you want to have a ball",

Hour upon hour,
Mr Crigidy continues to yell,
damning everyone to hell,

And sometime after the the sun set,
He collapses where he stood,
Spent,
And his mind content,

He glanced down at his hurricanes,
"I brought this on myself, you stupid old fool" he thought,

But his dreams of fame,
Did not falter,
Until he looked into his cardboard box,
And was filled

with shame,

A Long Dig

A start to something

There are individuals who believe that instead of climbing to the top of mount Everest, they'd rather make a tunnel to go through the mountain. They have no tools, no plan, just banging away day after day at the mountain side. Now there are also towns people that walk by on a adjacent path to the dig site and glance at this occurrence. Occasionally they'll give a shout out like "Use tools", and with bloody brows the headbangers take a branch and a rock to make a hammer... and they start to think... With better suggestions comes better progress going through the mountain and gradually they realize that some tools are better to be used then other tools.

There is however a point in the dig when the rock is so compact that no tool will work on the dig... They'll again begin to bang their head at the mountain, but this time no one can see them for their progress is off the beaten path.. they check around, back track, try new tools at different locations, and trying different areas to get through the mountain.  After hours of trial and error an old miner coming from the other side of the mountain laughs out loud and wonders what's the matter.

The miner examines the rock and explains "Your idiots if you continue down that path" in a clear southern accent.  "The surrounding rock will just lead us to the same dead end" spitting his chew on the ground checking the quiet canaries cage. The miner suggests that they backtrack and start climbing the mountain, for he knows the shortcuts and caves in between that will make their climb easier.

The men reluctant to give up, consed to the old miners wishes, lugging there tools up to a higher location. 

****** Fixed, last paragraph, but the story will eventually lead somewhere ******