My friend Ty

When we first met, he was shy. So shy that he’d run away at the sight of me. I kept it up, saying hi, how are you, and eventually fear gave way to curiosity…

Weeks went by, and he got more accustomed to my presence. He stopped running away from me, and would watch me for a bit. Then, he started coming over. It was exciting seeing him become friendly I must admit. I took to naming him Ty. He never told me what he called himself…

Then one day, Ty came to visit me in my home. He looked around warily, walking circles in my kitchen. He tried some of the food, had a little water, then out the door. Dad was surprised he came in at all! I told him Ty wants to live with us. He said he wants him to get checked out before he can get a room.

A day later, Ty has been cleared, save for a one day quarantine-he had a lil something! I can’t wait to show him off to the rest of the family…

Welcome to the family, Ty!

My Little Blue Flower-A Tale of Love and Loss

My little blue flower, growing in the dirt,

I like help it grow, keep it from getting hurt.

Brave little blue flower, bracing for the dusk

I’ll be back tomorrow with a water husk.

Poor little blue flower, among a field of weeds

Got to keep it healthy, its my hope and creed.

Helpless little blue flower, struggling in the night

Not sure it will make it, to the next day’s light.

Poor shriveled blue flower, dying ‘mongst the thorns

Why can’t I help it? Am I just to mourn?

Miss my little blue flower, more than you will know

Asked Death to bring it back, all Death said was no.

Forgive me little flower, I did more harm than good

Will I see you grow again, among the thorny wood?

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Where have I been? A brief explanation…

It has been months since my last official poetry post, I know. I’m still alive, don’t worry. Just been working on some big projects for the blog. Two projects, to be exact…

The first is a serious story with diesel punk inspirations. It takes place during a war between fictional nations. Four men from one nation are sent to secure a refinery, a task that will take them from a mine-strewn No Man’s Land to bombed out towns and bandit territory, testing the mettle of the four soldiers in ways they never wanted to be tested…

The second is a reboot of Tom and Vince. The idiotic duo make their return in a new universe with new friends and rivals, even! It’ll be a party-if they can find a way out of the garden of some sky-dwelling prick calling himself God…

These stories are taking a bit of work (especially the first one) and I will try to fill in the silence with poetry and whatever else I can. Till next time, everybody!

To Live

To live

Is to struggle

Every breath

Is a theft.

Every day a beginning

To make it through one, a miracle.

To live is violence

No matter how you shake it.

There are winners—

And losers—

In it all.

For one victory,

Ten defeats.

To live is beautiful,

Despite the carnage.

Life weaves a tapestry

The enfolds our entire lives.

Immortal’s Lament

You saw me weeping

Down by the roadway,

Clutching my heartstrings

Wanting to feel again

You went and showed me

The light in my darkness

While I was knowing

I’d have to bury you.

Sorry for taking

So long to come back

Your children are lovely

And look at how tall you’ve grown.

I’ll tell my new friends

Good things about you

They’ll never meet you

I had to bury you.

What is worth leaving behind?

People are always talking about leaving a legacy—

A testament to their history, their accomplishments.

The worst try to subvert truth and make themselves look like saints

And, depending on their wealth and status, they succeed.

Some want their legacy to be known not by tales, but deeds—

A great act, or a terrible crime.

Making a mark on the world that lingers on, becoming legend.

What should we leave behind—

Tales, or deeds?

Should it be both?

And what if we have nothing to leave?

Sketchy Things

I haven’t been writing as much as I used too. You’re aware of that, I’m aware of that, and I apologize.

The main reason for my lack of writing is because I have taken a renewed interest in sketching. Here’s two of my works as follows…

This is a clown mercenary/goddess of chaos in human form. Her name is Loona (pending a better name).
This one is my newest (and my first attempt at shading). There is a light source from the right that is supposed to be illuminating her. This is Michiru the Guillotine btw…

What do you all think of my art? Would you like me to share more? Let me know. Till next time!

J Edgar Hoover was a Bastard

Authority is evil, and we all know it

Attracting the worst of society,

The degenerates and the sociopaths.

The halls of power are lined with the blood of the innocent.

The revolutionaries, the dreamers, the pure

All victims

All to be sacrificed by the mighty

At the altar of power.

We must rise.

We must fight the powerful

Any way we can.

And in fighting we may die

But to live under the powerful is worse.

Miles in the Dark

Alone in the world

Naysayers abound

“You are wrong” they say

“You false prophet!”

They spit and curse at you.

“How DARE you question our god!!”

If they only knew

That their god was false

Like the last one was.

Gotta keep moving.

To stay in this town is death.

New gods every 4 years and nothing gets better…

Yet no one cares.

“We got our god” they say

“And they do no wrong

For their shit is golden

And smells of strawberries.”

They are starving, filthy, poor

Hopeless!!

HOPELESS!!!!

Must keep going…

Just a few more miles to go.

Maybe there will be sanity in the next town…

In German class, Jr High

Describe something you learned in high school.

Junior High wasn’t a good time for me. The first year, I was bullied till I had several paranoid/mental breakdowns and my parents threatened to sue the school. Next year, I spent a lot of time avoiding school-my mind associated the place with trauma (wonder why…)

However, between being pelted with urine-soaked paper towels and playing hooky to avoid the previous sentence I took a beginner class in German. That class was probably the best time I ever had in Jr High…

I learned a few words and phrases that cling to my mind to this day. I learned to count to ten:

Einz

Zwei

Drei

Fehr

Fumf

Sechs

Seiben

Acht

Neun

Zehn! And I probably mangled the spelling of a lot of those (I remember the sound of the numbers more than the spelling…)

I learned that a beautiful woman (or a fly honey in 90’s speak) was a honig- also the word for what bees make!

But, most importantly…

I learned that apfelkuchen (apple cake) tastes awesome and kicks MAJOR ASS!! Story behind that lesson is my teacher brought over a custom baked apple cake for the class. I was so enamored by the taste-the caramel over the apples, the cinnamon crumbles-I not only had seconds, I said out loud “Man, apfelkuchen kicks ass!” Which garnered a laugh from my classmates.

Like I said, best time I had in Jr high.

Till next time!