I Am the Storm

She stood with the quiet defiance of a self-assured queen. While the tempest around her raged on. The wind howled with a ferocity not seen in decades. Rain battered everything like an array of rapidly fired bullets. Still, she remained firm. Slowly stepping forward. One bare foot placed in front of the other.

All she had to do was make it across the natural stone bridge. Everyone deemed it impossible, that she would never make it to safety. But she would show them that she was the master of impossible. Her slender arms rose on either side of her.

Lightning struck the turbulent sea below her, sending salty spray to mix with the rain. The wind whipped her ebony hair about her face. Unfurled her crimson gown across the stone. Her pale skin contrasting the ash-colored skies. Still, she pursued onward.

Her striking eyes trained on the villagers that waited on solid ground. She was soaked to the bone, but she never felt the cold. Thunder rumbled the earth. Piece of rock plummeted into the crashing waves. More lightning streaked through the clouds. Yet, she crossed the natural stone bridge without hesitation. Startling the villagers as she strode by them. One called out, desperately trying to hang on for dear life, “How can you withstand this storm?”

She looked over her shoulder. A confident smile on her lips before she faded into the squall. “Darling, I am the storm.”

 

 

 

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Circles

Circles
Round and round
Never ending
All around the bush
In circles
No yes
No no
No maybe
Just circles
No lies
No truth
No distinction
Everything in circles
Even the mind
My mind
Always circles
Nothing makes sense
Brain numbing
Vision blurring
Stomach churning
Circles
All life
No life
Hard life
Easy life
Some life
But it’s all in circles
Who cares
Who doesn’t
Who’s in circles
What does it mean
What does it not mean
No response
Any response
So many circles
Round
Round
Round
Round
Round
Circles


Vanish Into the Night with Me

Vanish into the night with me
I will show you what it means to live
Follow the dim path and you will see
What the night can truly give

Delve into the night with me
There is so much you can learn
Knowledge opens many possibilities
The type of power all kinds yearn

Frolic into the night with me
Across darkness we will glide
Moving until we see heartbeats
Until the night no longer lets us hide

Adventure into the night with me
Surely there is something you want to find
Something to make your life meaning concrete
Even though you have lost your mind

Dissolve into the night with me
Allow the ink to lure you further
No matter how much you try to plea
There is no resisting unquenchable desire

Vanish into the night with me
It will be your final destination
A place of eternal rest without fee
The night loves when you are six feet in


Reaching for Light


Oriental Tranquility

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Apparition Taxi

 

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Music crooning softly, Samuel Walters continued his journey west. The truck headlights slicing through the darkness of the cool, summer night. His left arm hung out the window. Right thumb tapping the steering wheel in time with the old rock ‘n’ roll.

He drove this road every night on his way home from work. And he enjoyed every second of it. Typically, he was the only driver at this time.

The beat up work truck rose and fell with the road as it moved with the uneven land.

One particular dip took him through a blanket of fog. His hand outstretched to feel as much of the cooler air as possible. He smiled. Once the truck emerged out the other side, he checked the rear view mirror. Glanced over his shoulder. “Did we pick up any hitchhikers?”

Nothing answered him save for the tires crunching on the worn asphalt.

This had gone on for a year and continued for another month. Windows down, arm slung out, music playing, enjoying life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then he drove through the dip filled with fog. Checked the rear view mirror again and looked over his shoulder at the bed of the pick-up. “Did we pick up any hitchhikers?”

“Yeah.”

Samuel glanced at the passenger seat. Staring down the ghostly barrel of a 1930s Tommy Gun. He couldn’t help but smile.

The apparition tried pressing the gun at the driver. Frowned when it phased through him. “I need ya to take me somewhere.”

His foot came off the pedal so he wouldn’t miss any possible turns. “Anywhere you like.”

“Gang’s held up at the Thompson Cemetery. They’re supposed to be puttin’ holes in a guy who crossed us. Take me there, and I’ll let ya walk another day.”

“Sure thing, Boss.” Samuel made a left at the next intersection. Wove through the country roads with the ghost riding shotgun. Dropped the passenger off at the cemetery. Shook his head when the ethereal gangster phased through the mausoleum.

The next few nights proved uneventful. Then he picked up the ghost of an 1800s woman who wanted to visit the orchard. The following night was the ghost of a lady from the 1950s who babbled about window shopping. The next night found him hauling the spirits of a family in the bed of his pick-up, taking them back to their farm. Then the spook of a fisherman who demanded to be driven to the lake.

On and on, it went. Every single night.

Even when the weather didn’t allow for natural fog, there would always be a cloud of it at the bottom of the seventh–and deepest–dip on his way home. Many of the apparitions returned for pleasant chatter, recalling how they died. Some, he helped to their final resting place.

But the ever-present one was the mobster named Charlie. Charlie never had a lot to say, and he always wanted to be taken to the Thompson Cemetery.

It had been six months since Samuel Walters first picked up Charlie. And when Charlie entered the truck tonight, Samuel came to a stop in the middle of the road.

The ghost turned to him, his form flickering. “Why ain’t you takin’ me to the cemetery?”

Samuel sighed. “None of the other phantoms repeat the same request over and over. Yet, you do. That mausoleum isn’t your final resting place, is it? And don’t go on about that gang of yours, because I know they’ve already passed on.”

Charlie remained quiet for some time. “Why weren’t you scared of me when I first appeared to you?”

He shrugged. “I’m an easy-going kinda guy. But you’re not evading this. Tell me what’s going on, so I can help you find peace.”

The apparition flickered some more, going in and out of focus. “The gang isn’t held up there. It’s someone else. My girl, Loraine. Her spirit left a long time ago, but I still like to visit her.”

Samuel softened. “Then why don’t you be with her?”

“I can’t. My body is at the bottom of the lake. They thought I stole some money, so they tied a bag of bricks on me. Let me sink to the bottom. I never took any money.”

He put the truck back in drive. Headed to his house. “Then let’s get you back. So you can be with Loraine.”

Once at his home, he went into action, hitching up his boat and grabbing the materials required. The night was still young, and he had more than enough time to exhume a body. It was the only time he was thankful he lived alone. That way, he wouldn’t disturb anyone in the middle of the night.

The old pick-up was driven like it hadn’t been driven in years. The john boat in tow. But he made it to the lake in record time. Once the boat was in the water, Charlie guided the still-living to the part where his body was dumped all those years ago.

It didn’t take long for Samuel to bag the remains and haul them into the boat. Nor to hitch it back up. The trash bag of soaked bones rattled around in the truck bed as the pair traveled to Thompson Cemetery in silence.

And it was actually Samuel who placed the remains in an available space next to Loraine’s coffin, while Charlie remained in the truck. When the living man returned, the ghost hovered. “It’s done?”

“Go be with your girl, Boss.”

The ethereal mobster flickered for a few moments. Nodded his thanks and phased through the mausoleum.

Samuel Walters couldn’t help but smile. He knew it was the last time he’d see Charlie. But he was pleased the spirit finally found rest. His trusty pick-up carried him home. With music playing low and windows rolled down. Waiting until the next night when he could escort another ghost around town.


A Spider in My Garden

There was a spider in my garden
And I’m terrified of spiders
As everyone typically knows
So I did what anyone would do
I tried drowning it with the hose

Now this spider in my garden
It must’ve been a special kind
It absolutely refused to drown
You see, it clung for dear life
Not letting me put it down

The spider that was in my garden
Made me wonder about some things
Humans also cling dearly to life
Not so different from the spider
Holding on even during strife

We are the spider in my garden
We are a persistent species
Building legacies and homes
Not taking our last breath
Until that designated time comes

There’s still a spider in my garden
Even though I don’t like it
As long as it leaves me be
I’ll leave it to survive
Because living is the key


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