The Green Light Fades

On strike three, but dying for another swing,
He hoped to finally find the real thing.
Stratagems composed with precision,
Conversations practiced in advance,
Every word chosen was a conscious decision.

Desperate, over-thinking always found despair.
Foolish, believing that he had so much to share.
A word could haunt him for days,
But a laugh could give him hope for a month.
He always chose to ignore her disinterested ways.

Pressure mounted and leaks would spring;
Any separation gave his chest a sting.
Fancy thoughts of togetherness never receded
The truth was always masked by his illusions.
The venture a failure that he’d not conceded.

Finally, related dissolutions sparked a smile.
Morality allowed patience to hold a long while.
Bliss brought by others’ pain.
But selfish pursuits are blinding,
His year was all in vain.

Nerves gathered, heart became a drum
Twelve months on hold, now the moment come.
Written quickly, branches in wind write better.
A handoff and a scan.
Perspiration dampens the poor boy’s sweater.

The compassionate catharsis cracks the bond.
Now sweet serenades can’t soothe me.

My fingers are finding it tougher to speak,
Of this subject I’d now rather hide than seek.
Character and writer are sadly the same.
Both still break down at the sound of her name.
Therapy found through these amateur verses;
All clichéd compositions lacking heart,
I’m stuck rhyming “verses” with “curses.”

Goddamnit.

Where does one go from here then?
Have I the energy to do it all again?
Till then, walls will know my gaze well.
Stares a thousand yards long,
Lost looks and a shocked shell.

Do I move on or stay in my place?
Where do runners go when they’ve finished their race?
How will I feel now when I see her face?

Memories of mornings will remain.
She gave him a reason to sustain
Hope, belief, and faith, in the idea of love.
It’s nice to have known those days;
Living for a year on that idea of “love.”

A Month, a Season, and Tonight

Beams across the spectrum are scanning;
Dancing to the meticulous echoing notes.
Soft spoken tones emphasize meaning.
The harmonizing, so hypnotizing,
Make the moment enchanting.

We’re the last ones, you know?
The others having fled the floor,
Perhaps an hour ago or more.
Finding haven in one-night rooms,
To put on a shy and awkward show.

Delicate sways from side to side,
Staying silent as the song speaks.
Plans upwards of four weeks
Have led us exactly to this spot,
Now open to a truth we’d prefer hide.

We know that separation is close;
Left with a month, a season, and tonight,
After which an eviction will be imposed.
Naiveté tells us we can erect a fight
To an ending which everyone knows.

My chin finds familiar grounds to rest,
Atop your head which is dug into my chest.
All the clocks have the same request:
Exit to the right, have a nice night.

Before we bid the building adieu,
We steal away, so not to be seen,
Flying through corridors labyrinthine.
Finally finding a room that’ll do,
Fit to engage in a typical taboo.

Blurs and fades of time and space.
Care and worries evade this place.
As locks fall due to quick handiwork,
A tussle and ruffle leave a ripped shirt.
A maneuver or two manages the hook,
Innocent eyes can’t help but a look.
Impish grins of what has been seen,
The rest to follow runs like a routine.
Contact nears, dashing all fears.
A bite of the lip, a nibble of the ears.
Eyes closed shut ‘til they open wide.
Gasps signal the entrance inside.
Only minutes of privacy guaranteed,
Necessitate utmost precision and speed.
The savagery is a mask for their love.
For every tender kiss; a push and a shove.
The rhythm increases, sensation never ceases.
A higher rate would leave them both in pieces.
An unspeakable feeling as they share a glance;
Two young bodies realizing a true romance.
Intimate doings with a modern day twist,
They seem to have an unholy handle of this.
Expert practitioners on just the fifth try,
He must struggle to muffle her cry.
She maximizes her grip, no scream let slip.
In the end, it all comes to a fine conclusion.
Mutual satisfaction in the dim seclusion.
Time is running out on this delight.
A month, a season, and tonight.

Our Ward

Take me somewhere else.
Away from this world
That cannot contain us.

Take me away from schedules,
Plans and a future.
No one will know our past.

A place to be
Where our hearts may speak,
In the place of poems
And others’ pretty words.

Take me far from this.
This solitude, these sores,
And these sandblasted walls.

Take me with you.
Somehow get me out
The way you are going.

These goons in the room
Who gave me 8 to 9
Now say that I’ll be just fine.
A mixed miracle in my mind.

You’re a ghost in the making
Lying before my eyes.
Speech abandoning you,
Hope not far behind.

Take me off this plane.
Free of conscious pain
And the sight of yours.

Take me on your journey.
Don’t leave me with this,
A life of your lost fight.

Your speechless lips move.
I force my eyes to read them.
“I’m being taken away.”
You leave in two minutes time.

The sun shines into the ward
On a day you will never see.
My shirt seems to button itself
As I’m severed from reality.
Into fresh air and open arms,
I’m leaving out a different door.
Survivor’s guilt has struck me.
As much punishment as reward.
It will take its toll slowly,
Eroding me from within.
Your final words were silent,
But your impact left a din.

Us Today

What have we learned?
There are no Gods, messiahs or saints
But from us you’ll hear no complaints
We’ve lost hope in miracles and prayer
But none of us really seem to care
We live in a life of hustle, bustle, and hurry
But we live our lives without a worry
The face of America has become more mottled
We all share childhoods being overly-coddled
The country is leaderless, led by buffoons
Spewing enough hot air to fill a billion balloons
No more Washingtons, Lincolns or Roosevelts
Nothing left but fatcats with bulging belts
Pockets full of lobbyist money
Bastards they are, deceptive and cunning
Laws more invasive, ads more persuasive
Authority more abrasive, answers more evasive

What has our generation become?
We’re more logical and rational
Aware of issues local and national
Going abroad, growing international
Less evangelical, closer to skeptical
More scientific and medical
Experts in things electronic and mechanical
We are Suburbia-bred
We are fast food fed
We are always wondering
As our lives are sundering
What it would be like to be dead
A suicide culture has emerged
Teenage drug use has surged
Popular notions become absurd
Fact and fiction are now blurred
Witnesses of terror and two wars
Saluting soldiers who’ve done three tours
We’re a society of smartasses and cynics
Who dismiss and belittle our critics
And while our case may not be clinical
It’s a concern that has turned critical

Are you happy with this state of our being?
Or are you offended by what you’re seeing?

Brothers, sisters, do you see what we are?
We are not all special little stars
Some of us will fail or become ordinary
Even if we’ve been raised to believe the contrary
It’s on you.
Mark out your own path and goals
Fire yourself up about your life
Throw on some more coals
Laugh at the world, laugh at death
Laugh every second ‘til your last breath
Your philosophy should be against the grain
Anything less and it’ll drive you insane
We’re better than our ancestors
Improvements of our predecessors
You need to break the mold, raise your voice
Don’t be afraid to make an unpopular choice
You don’t want to be the average
Become the savage

What will you do with your life?
Will you embrace love in the face of strife?
You do, and you’ll become the topic of the conversation
The idol of admiration
The fawned-over fascination
The incendiary sensation
The formation of a new foundation
Go ahead
And redefine our generation

Do nothing less.

I Have Seen Paradise

It all came before me, as my boat sailed on
A warm, heavy sun fell upon me swiftly,
I had not a clue where I had gone.
The river had suddenly opened up to sea,
And there I was, just paradise and me.

To my left was the grandest of all sights,
A high cliff decorated with waterfalls and vines,
With lush jungle sitting just above the heights.
Clearly a landscape crafted from impeccable designs.
Yes, mine was the greatest of all man’s finds.

The water all about seemed enchanted in some way,
Sparkling with such avidness and glee.
I was in a sea that left me with nothing to say,
My tongue speechless, mind in jubilee.
There was never a moment where I felt so free.

I was happy in this land beyond imagination;
A feeling of peace never before tasted by my lips.
But I knew I’d never again know this sensation,
Though I would have the memory of this, finest of all trips.
And it was then that I saw, in the distance, ships!

Classic frigates floated near the cliff,
Hundreds of feet up, their masts shot into the sky.
Even with just light winds, all their sails were stiff.
Yet the vessels’ appearance were no fright to the eye,
No more than that of a common fruit fly

At the center of them all was a behemoth to be true.
To the clouds and beyond did this one extend,
And just as I saw it, I not only felt, I knew.
My boat was leaving the sea and entering a bend,
I was leaving paradise, my visit at an end.

But, I would remember this place without a doubt.
I’d think about it in class later on and pray,
Praying to be able to remember that route.
That route that led to the deep blue bay.
That bay that I pray above all to return to one day.

"A Dive into Wet Cement" and "The Pitch (First Edit)"

These two stories cannot be posted onto my blog, so if you would like a copy of either to enjoy, please send me an email @ ghostdj42@gmail.com

A Dive into Wet Cement had to be taken off as a precondition when submitting it to literary journals. It's the story of a teenager teetering on a bridge as part of a rite of passage, while also teetering on the bridge between adolescence and adulthood. Personally considered to be my best story.

The Pitch (First Edit) is a multi-layered story about a writer trying to pitch a story, and so much more. In it, the writer toys around with the conventions of writing a story on his way to pitch it. He's both a character, in two ways, and also the writer. It's complicated, postmodern, and has laughs. If you like Adaptation, Eternal Sunshine of the the Spotless Mind, or Donnie Darko, you'll like this. Hopefully. Because of its varied fonts, strike-throughs, and variety of colors, I couldn't post it in its perfect form on the blog, so I chose not to post it at all.

-blogfully, Derek

I'll Meet You in Dreams

I'm in a place I've seen before. I've never been there, per se, but I have seen it. I think I'm in a level of a video game that I've played before, something like a World War II game. I'm walking along, carefully watching my feet, planting on foot in front of the other as if I'm doing a sobriety test.

You're there above me, to my right, walking along a ledge like a gymnast on the balance beam. Your hair is down, aside from a few hair clips, and the winds that come along blow it around and give you the aura of a goddess. As in most dreams, I don't know how I know things, I just know them. I'm taking you to the train station to see you off. This I know, though neither of us have made mention to it. The carnal thoughts in my mind begin to multiply, and I can barely hold back my feelings for you.

You begin asking me conditional questions, "Would you love me if..."

To each one I say, "Yes." To each "Yes" your smile grows brighter than all the sun's rays. I've never seen you smile that big in reality, and the sight causes me to freeze in my steps. You're so incredibly beautiful when you smile like that.

We turn the corner and find ourselves at platform where we must go our separate ways. You turn to me. The tension between us grows. Your face flushes. I look at your lips; a lighter shade of rose. I have so many things to say, but there's no need. We both know it's inevitable now. We know it's now or never. We move closer than ever.

Our lips, about to come together at last. My heart races, knowing it's you I'm about to feel. The first encounter is ever so brief, with my bottom lip brushing your top. We separate and look at each other in surprise. We've finally kissed. Now let's never stop. Let our next one last forever. My left hand find the bottom of your back, the right one finds your thigh.

This is the greatest feeling in my life. We're not thinking, we're just doing. That's how we know what is between is real. I make my way to your neck but then it strikes me: I can go no further. I must come to halt. You have to go and so do I. Our chins hover just above each other's shoulders. We must depart.

More than anything, I want to commit the greatest sin, to just to stay with you and touch my lips to your skin.

Instead, I smile at you in a reassuring way. At the very least, we've taken that next step, and for that I should be happier than any man alive. One last look into your eyes and I take my leave. As good as this dream is, I must go, I must go wake up. I leave you standing there, watching me walk away. We can't see each other now, but we both know we're smiling.

And then I wake up.
_______________________

I walk out of my room and into the kitchen, looking for a midday snack. Before I reach the fridge, I look out the back door and see you there. You've returned to me. I can't believe it, to be honest, and I just stare with a slack-jaw in your direction. You're shooting me that smile from that night at the train station. That smile breaks me from my spell. I rush to the door and jump outside to see you. You take a step forward and we meet. We embrace in a full body bind. I just keep thinking in my head, "I love you, I love you, I love you." I pull back so I can get a look at your face.

Though it's only been one day in between my dreams of seeing you, it's felt like ages. You're wearing those glasses that I adore, the ones that make you look devastingly brilliant, which you are.

You begin asking a thousand questions. I cock my head to the right as I listen to you, barely hearing the questions, but losing my breath at the soothing and comforting sound of hearing your voice again. I nod my head and recall saying, "Really?" to something you say. The only question I remember fully is when you ask if I saw you in the paper.

"I did. It was lovely."

This sudden surprise appearance has caught me off-guard, however, and I realize it's but a dream again. You're slipping away from me quickly. Your visage fades to white. I'm losing you again, with only a fleeting memory to take with me.

I love you dearly. Goodbye.

I've awoken.