The strongest words are born from lust,
the strongest men from deed
but it's my own heartbroken mumbling
that keeps the master in his feed
he comes by day,
takes fears away
but nighttime lets them breed
The strongest scotch
or lemonade
would neither dull my pain
the master speaks, and all obey
his words morbid and deranged
my self esteem,
by cardinal's call
falls swiftly down the drain
he asks the young to take his hand,
the actress plays her part
but she's no marvel, for indeed
with a thickening of the heart
I realize all my love and pride
was empty from the start
and listen well, my words are true
heed the sorrow on my face
"it takes no art to make one believe
what one wants to be the case"
Friday, October 30, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Part III
I looked at Kira in utter shock. Nothing much phases a guy like me, but this was different. This was Kira Keen, and once something like this happened a guy starts to get certain ideas. He starts to dream. And I don't care what they tell you. Sometimes you don't have to work for your dreams. Sometimes they fall right into your lap. Like I said, you'd be a moron to wait for it, but a downright fool to kick it in the jaw. I put my arm around her, and sort of nuzzled her hair just a bit on her far shoulder. She in turn pressed her head into me, and Robin turned redder than the time I slammed by thumb in the garage door and they had to cut a hole in my nail so it wouldn't get infected or something. I dunno, I'm not a doctor. You could see this was a humbling experience for Robin. I liked that. You could also imagine that he might wet himself. I liked that even more. But boy, when Kira Keen kissed me full on the lips, I liked that best of all.
Some people say there are fireworks when you kiss. Some people say it's like a moment frozen in time. Me, I just got hard down there, but since I was wearing blue jeans it didn't really matter. I mean, that's a hell of a lot better than fireworks in my opinion. I stayed the perfect gentleman though, and besides, it couldn't have lasted more than forty five seconds at most. But it was enough.
Robin muttered something you couldn't really understand, and he looked like he wanted to sink into the Earth. I wouldn't have minded much. I'd even have helped fix the cement on the pavement.
Kira Keen took my hand and started running some more. I followed, running and running until my legs nearly fell right off. This girl had spice, stamina. I wouldn't have expected anything less. We got to the park about eight or nine blocks down from the school where no one really went much. When you've lived in a town your entire life like most of us at that godawful school, you sorta take the scenery for granted. They say if you've seen one park you've seen 'em all, and mostly I'd agree, but here was one park with a girl whose eyes at that moment made me feel stirrings. Sure as hell they were in my pants, but stirrings in my chest too. Foreign ones. Ones I couldn't rightly explain. Hell, it coulda been a heart attack and I wouldn't of cared. This was Kira Keen. She was as mysterious as she was desirable, as strange as she was darn special. I mean, Jeez. You should get the picture by now.
She looked to her left, looked to her right, and sat down on the bare Earth almost, somehow making it look both like a ritual and something you'd be lucky to ever see again in your life. She told me to sit down in a voice so soft I thought I might have imagined it. I sat.
So there I was, sitting cross legged and awkward across from Kira Keen. She looked me in the eyes, and I was taken for a moment by how plain they were. Brown. Just brown. But they weren't brown. They were the color brown all the other things of brown had to be approved by before they could dare call themselves brown. She had that ability you know. She could take something so ordinary, so mundane, and just make it seem like you were visiting the Pope. I bet the girl even made brushing your teeth something memorable, something that makes you ache kinda like jogging for two hours and lying down just to feel the dull throb of something worth doing.
Kira Keen spoke.
“Spindle, Spindle,” she said my name twice, laughing, letting it roll off her tongue softly almost like you'd repeat something that happened to catch your fancy. She got very solemn all of a sudden.
“Why don't I know you?”
I didn't rightly know how to answer her question, so I paused, took a deep breath, and tried to find words that wouldn't come out harsh and unsophisticated. This was Kira Keen after all.
Some people say there are fireworks when you kiss. Some people say it's like a moment frozen in time. Me, I just got hard down there, but since I was wearing blue jeans it didn't really matter. I mean, that's a hell of a lot better than fireworks in my opinion. I stayed the perfect gentleman though, and besides, it couldn't have lasted more than forty five seconds at most. But it was enough.
Robin muttered something you couldn't really understand, and he looked like he wanted to sink into the Earth. I wouldn't have minded much. I'd even have helped fix the cement on the pavement.
Kira Keen took my hand and started running some more. I followed, running and running until my legs nearly fell right off. This girl had spice, stamina. I wouldn't have expected anything less. We got to the park about eight or nine blocks down from the school where no one really went much. When you've lived in a town your entire life like most of us at that godawful school, you sorta take the scenery for granted. They say if you've seen one park you've seen 'em all, and mostly I'd agree, but here was one park with a girl whose eyes at that moment made me feel stirrings. Sure as hell they were in my pants, but stirrings in my chest too. Foreign ones. Ones I couldn't rightly explain. Hell, it coulda been a heart attack and I wouldn't of cared. This was Kira Keen. She was as mysterious as she was desirable, as strange as she was darn special. I mean, Jeez. You should get the picture by now.
She looked to her left, looked to her right, and sat down on the bare Earth almost, somehow making it look both like a ritual and something you'd be lucky to ever see again in your life. She told me to sit down in a voice so soft I thought I might have imagined it. I sat.
So there I was, sitting cross legged and awkward across from Kira Keen. She looked me in the eyes, and I was taken for a moment by how plain they were. Brown. Just brown. But they weren't brown. They were the color brown all the other things of brown had to be approved by before they could dare call themselves brown. She had that ability you know. She could take something so ordinary, so mundane, and just make it seem like you were visiting the Pope. I bet the girl even made brushing your teeth something memorable, something that makes you ache kinda like jogging for two hours and lying down just to feel the dull throb of something worth doing.
Kira Keen spoke.
“Spindle, Spindle,” she said my name twice, laughing, letting it roll off her tongue softly almost like you'd repeat something that happened to catch your fancy. She got very solemn all of a sudden.
“Why don't I know you?”
I didn't rightly know how to answer her question, so I paused, took a deep breath, and tried to find words that wouldn't come out harsh and unsophisticated. This was Kira Keen after all.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Part Two
And Robin would be all suave to Kira, bringing her flowers, and chocolates, obviously the kind of guy who watches too lousy romance movies, probably in the hopes of getting with your average susceptible Missy Jezabel. Some girls are suckers for that kinda thing. Not Kira though. Kira always sort of looked at him, smiled a little bit, and continued doing whatever she was doing. Boy did it piss Robin off that she ignored his advances. He got bolder and bolder too, until one day it all came to a head.
I was minding my own business, when Kira came up to me all sweet like, and I could hardly believe it. This girl was everything a guy could want, and nothing I'd ever dared to dream, even in my moments when the rough stuff's put on the shelf for a little bit. If Robin was Mr. Mercedes at our school, I was a lawnmower. No one really paid me any mind, and I never really cared much for books anyway. But it was an alright day I guess, and there were these leaves all over the place. People always describe leaves with all these fancy colors and terms I never really understand. They were kind of murky brown, muddy, with maybe a few yellows or reds in there somewhere. But sheesh, some people go on and on about Fall. It's not that big of a deal. Kira came up to me and hemmed and hawed a bit, and then she grabbed my arm and started running. Well, I could either have stayed still and fallen over like a real moron, or I could have done exactly what I did. I started running with her, almost as if I was a dog on a leash. A dog on a leash to Kira Keen. This I could live with. Anyone else and I'd have been right pissed. Kira jumped into a pile of those brown leaves and took me right down with her.
You know how it is with assholes. They just love Murphy's law, and make sure to make it come true as much as they're able. Robin just happened to come by at the moment. Yeah right. Robin didn't just happen to go anywhere. I sometimes I think he planned out his every move days in advance, when ironing his stuck up shirts and perfectly pressed khaki pants. A real poseur this guy. Down to the core. He came over and accused me of bothering Kira.
“Well what the hell are you doing to her Spindle?” he said, thinking he was saving the damsel. That was his problem. Kira was no damsel. She was a woman. A free spirit. She'd be more likely to save his ass any day than he'd be to save her pretty little petut. Kira stuck her tongue out at him.
“that's no way to talk to my boyfriend.”
And that's how I started going out with Kira Keen, and drove poor old Robin off his rocker.
End of Part II
I was minding my own business, when Kira came up to me all sweet like, and I could hardly believe it. This girl was everything a guy could want, and nothing I'd ever dared to dream, even in my moments when the rough stuff's put on the shelf for a little bit. If Robin was Mr. Mercedes at our school, I was a lawnmower. No one really paid me any mind, and I never really cared much for books anyway. But it was an alright day I guess, and there were these leaves all over the place. People always describe leaves with all these fancy colors and terms I never really understand. They were kind of murky brown, muddy, with maybe a few yellows or reds in there somewhere. But sheesh, some people go on and on about Fall. It's not that big of a deal. Kira came up to me and hemmed and hawed a bit, and then she grabbed my arm and started running. Well, I could either have stayed still and fallen over like a real moron, or I could have done exactly what I did. I started running with her, almost as if I was a dog on a leash. A dog on a leash to Kira Keen. This I could live with. Anyone else and I'd have been right pissed. Kira jumped into a pile of those brown leaves and took me right down with her.
You know how it is with assholes. They just love Murphy's law, and make sure to make it come true as much as they're able. Robin just happened to come by at the moment. Yeah right. Robin didn't just happen to go anywhere. I sometimes I think he planned out his every move days in advance, when ironing his stuck up shirts and perfectly pressed khaki pants. A real poseur this guy. Down to the core. He came over and accused me of bothering Kira.
“Well what the hell are you doing to her Spindle?” he said, thinking he was saving the damsel. That was his problem. Kira was no damsel. She was a woman. A free spirit. She'd be more likely to save his ass any day than he'd be to save her pretty little petut. Kira stuck her tongue out at him.
“that's no way to talk to my boyfriend.”
And that's how I started going out with Kira Keen, and drove poor old Robin off his rocker.
End of Part II
Monday, October 26, 2009
A story I'm working on
Bam! This isn't what you think it is at all. Bam! Look at me, it's like I'm Emeril Legassi or something. That guy's a fucking douchebag. Bam!
Once a writing teacher told me never to apologise for my work. He also told me a lot of other stupid things too. I hope he gets pulled over for speeding or something. So yeah, you can tell he wasn't my cup of tea exactly. So I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're such a goddamn moron, because that's really what all of us are. Morons. We come in all shapes and sizes. All kinds and all flavors. But we're morons all the same.
You might be the kind of moron who sits idly waiting for someone to throw something in your lap
or you might be the kind of moron who enjoys watching soap operas and cries when Roderick finds his long lost baby.
Maybe you're the kind of moron who tries too hard, or the kind of moron who thinks it's cool to pretend not to try at all.
Or maybe you're like me. Maybe you're my kind of moron. My name's Spindle. I'm the king of the morons. The grand poobah of the ill equipped and ill prepared. Try to steal my throne if you dare bitches.
A while back, there was this girl, you see? It's always about some girl. Or some guy if you swing that way. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But in my case, it's a girl. Got it? Good. I don't want you to make the same mistake Byron did. He was bleeding for a week for calling me a faggot. It's not what he called me, it's how he said it. Like there was something base and vile about it. So now he talks to me real nice, smiles and everything. Like I'm the Prince of Siam. It's bloody brilliant.
So the girl's name was Kira. Kira liked this guy named Robin. I admire a guy named Robin. I really do. It's the kind of name that's conducive to a real sensitive cat. Well, this guy was sensitive enough I guess, but he was a dreamer, always blind to anything that wasn't his own bone brained philosophy. His eyes, oh those eyes. The ladies loved his eyes. They were piercing, and deep, and I guess they all wanted to take a bath in them or something, because there were sure lots of stories about how quickly he could get the ladies to undress for him. They were the kind of eyes that were dangerous, the kind of eyes that any guy with a dick would take full advantage of. I didn't like those eyes. They reflected so much in their inky depths that they didn't see anything. You know?
So Kira liked this guy named Robin. But She didn't like Robin. Robin sure as hell liked Kira though. He was obsessed with her. He wanted to prove how high and mighty he was. He wanted to know that any girl worth knowing in the whole god damn school would scream his name real loud if you know what I mean. Normally Robin would have written Kira off as not worth knowing, but Kira was too special for that. She's a presence. A real presence. Everywhere she goes, people see her and yearn. She's everything they wish they could be. Experienced enough to know just how to make your heart slip and slide like sizzling butter in a frying pan, but still naive enough about certain things to be just so damn adorable. I wish I could say I was an exception, but she even makes a guy like me, who's admittedly rough around the edges, go all soft and tender for a little bit.
Anyway, Kira was pretty oblivious to how amazing she was. Everyone who saw her fell in love with her, but she didn't see it at all. The most beautiful women are the ones who don't know they're beautiful. It's just one of those divine ironies I guess.
I think Robin's sort of an asshole. He always came up to me, suave and pretentious, "Well hello my good man" he'd say, and I wanted to give it to him good. The way he called me a "good man" was so fucking condescending. Everyone knew he was an asshole, but no one would ever say it out loud. Kinda like how your grandma can get away with making racist remarks, because she's "a product of a different age". Robin was a product of a different age all right. It's all so damn confusing how a guy like that got all those women. Any other place but this damnable school, and he'd be made fun of just 'cause his name's Robin. But those eyes. They must have been so reflective all the girls saw themselves in them. There's no better way to get a girl to look you in the eye than having eyes that feed their narcissism. So Robin got women.
End of Part 1
Once a writing teacher told me never to apologise for my work. He also told me a lot of other stupid things too. I hope he gets pulled over for speeding or something. So yeah, you can tell he wasn't my cup of tea exactly. So I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're such a goddamn moron, because that's really what all of us are. Morons. We come in all shapes and sizes. All kinds and all flavors. But we're morons all the same.
You might be the kind of moron who sits idly waiting for someone to throw something in your lap
or you might be the kind of moron who enjoys watching soap operas and cries when Roderick finds his long lost baby.
Maybe you're the kind of moron who tries too hard, or the kind of moron who thinks it's cool to pretend not to try at all.
Or maybe you're like me. Maybe you're my kind of moron. My name's Spindle. I'm the king of the morons. The grand poobah of the ill equipped and ill prepared. Try to steal my throne if you dare bitches.
A while back, there was this girl, you see? It's always about some girl. Or some guy if you swing that way. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But in my case, it's a girl. Got it? Good. I don't want you to make the same mistake Byron did. He was bleeding for a week for calling me a faggot. It's not what he called me, it's how he said it. Like there was something base and vile about it. So now he talks to me real nice, smiles and everything. Like I'm the Prince of Siam. It's bloody brilliant.
So the girl's name was Kira. Kira liked this guy named Robin. I admire a guy named Robin. I really do. It's the kind of name that's conducive to a real sensitive cat. Well, this guy was sensitive enough I guess, but he was a dreamer, always blind to anything that wasn't his own bone brained philosophy. His eyes, oh those eyes. The ladies loved his eyes. They were piercing, and deep, and I guess they all wanted to take a bath in them or something, because there were sure lots of stories about how quickly he could get the ladies to undress for him. They were the kind of eyes that were dangerous, the kind of eyes that any guy with a dick would take full advantage of. I didn't like those eyes. They reflected so much in their inky depths that they didn't see anything. You know?
So Kira liked this guy named Robin. But She didn't like Robin. Robin sure as hell liked Kira though. He was obsessed with her. He wanted to prove how high and mighty he was. He wanted to know that any girl worth knowing in the whole god damn school would scream his name real loud if you know what I mean. Normally Robin would have written Kira off as not worth knowing, but Kira was too special for that. She's a presence. A real presence. Everywhere she goes, people see her and yearn. She's everything they wish they could be. Experienced enough to know just how to make your heart slip and slide like sizzling butter in a frying pan, but still naive enough about certain things to be just so damn adorable. I wish I could say I was an exception, but she even makes a guy like me, who's admittedly rough around the edges, go all soft and tender for a little bit.
Anyway, Kira was pretty oblivious to how amazing she was. Everyone who saw her fell in love with her, but she didn't see it at all. The most beautiful women are the ones who don't know they're beautiful. It's just one of those divine ironies I guess.
I think Robin's sort of an asshole. He always came up to me, suave and pretentious, "Well hello my good man" he'd say, and I wanted to give it to him good. The way he called me a "good man" was so fucking condescending. Everyone knew he was an asshole, but no one would ever say it out loud. Kinda like how your grandma can get away with making racist remarks, because she's "a product of a different age". Robin was a product of a different age all right. It's all so damn confusing how a guy like that got all those women. Any other place but this damnable school, and he'd be made fun of just 'cause his name's Robin. But those eyes. They must have been so reflective all the girls saw themselves in them. There's no better way to get a girl to look you in the eye than having eyes that feed their narcissism. So Robin got women.
End of Part 1
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