Home

It was the beginning of fall and already the leaves had changed to brown.  There was a heaviness about the air that made it hard to breath at times.  Out on the front porch was a rocking chair that never stopped rocking even when there was no wind.  I had just moved into this old gray house with weathered white shutters and already I felt like I was home.  I felt as if this was the place that I have been waiting to live my whole life and then one day it all changed.  It was about four o'clock in the morning when I heard a slamming against the windows.  I arose quickly and in a frightened state from my soft and comfortable bed.  My heart nearly jumped out of my chest.  I looked over towards the window and seen that the shutters had come unlatched.  I walked over and opened the window and started to pull the shutters closed, when without warning I heard loud footsteps rapidly approaching from behind me.  A voice shouted in my ear "it's time!".  I turned around so fast that I almost fell.  Before me was an old man with black teeth and white eyes.  I was now so frightened that I could not move or breathe.  With one quick extension of his arms the old man shoved me out of the opened window. I fell rapidly to the ground where I hit my head on the stairs of the front porch.  I slowly looked over and with blurry vision from the blood running into my eyes I saw the old man rocking in the rocking chair.  He had a big smile on his face and angry white eyes.  He was humming and eerie tune, and then he started singing in a low and crackly voice.  "I have seen the gates of hell and nothing can be done, I will walk to your front door and there you will be gone."  He kept singing this repeatedly and I could do nothing.  I was paralyzed from my neck down.  My head was fixed so it was aiming right at the old man.  He wouldn't stop singing and his white eyed glare felt as if it were ripping my soul apart.  Again I tried to move with no success not even a twitch.  Next thing I noticed was that the old man was gone from the rocking chair on the porch but the chair was still rocking back and forth back, and forth with each rock of the chair it was accompanied by a creaking noise made by the hundred year old wooden boards on the porch.  I could no longer hear the old man singing or humming.  I think that this frightened me even more, because now I had no clue where he was.  Then all of the sudden I heard the old man again.  This time he was standing directly over me and he was saying repeatedly in a grinding hoarse voice, "it is time, it is time, it is time!  He kept saying it and he was now about six inches from my face and I could smell his rotten breath.  I could feel the fear running through my veins.  It was a fright in which I had never felt before, I knew no that I was going to die.  Just as that thought crossed into my mind I saw the old man's arm raise up into the air and he was holding an ice pick.  He said one more time "it is time" and then he said "I am going to gut you child and hang your insides on the branches of the trees!".  I wanted to close my eyes but I couldn't.  I could feel my body shaking but still I could not move.  Suddenly, I heard an old screechy voice say "Harold stop it right now, I like her!"  I knew that this was the old man's name as he jerked his head in the direction of the voice.  I also looked in the same direction and the voice was coming from the rocking chair where there was an old white haired woman holding what appeared to be a glass of lemonade.  Then everything went black.  I awoke in the morning with my clothes wet from the dew.  I could feel my body and I reached up to feel how bad my head had been split open, there was nothing there.  No blood, no nothing.  I stood up and walked up the stairs onto the porch when from out of nowhere I heard a voice say "good morning sweetheart, your home now."  I looked over and sitting in not one but two rocking chairs was the old couple that I had encountered the night before.  The old women smiled at me, as did Harold with his black teeth.  Just as quickly as they had appeared the old couple disappeared.  I have been in the house now for ten years and still every morning the old couple sits out on the porch in their rocking chairs just watching the world go by.  I know now that I am home.

The Fire

Dropping off of the trees onto the forest floor,
the seed of life becomes once more,
it sprouts and grows and reaches toward the light,
it thickens and becomes a rigid landmark for journeys embarked,
it seems like forever it stands apart,
growing even more throughout the seasons,
passing by the time by reaching out to the sky,
the air was calm and the sky was blue,
but off in the distance a gray cloud grew,
after hundreds of years of standing it's ground,
it needs to run or only ashes will be found,
off in the distance which is getting near,
a bright orange hue is fire it fears,
feeling the heat throughout its limbs,
just watching and waiting until it begins,
it's getting closer it can smell the end,
it cannot move just stay and defend,
It reaches the base of the once mighty marker,
it's bark is charring and the sky is getting darker,
the sap is popping and bubbling and crackling,
then a loud thunderous noise is heard in the far,
the droplets of life are coming it sees,
and now is the feeling of a cooling wet breeze,
the smoke is subsiding and the heat it is dull,
for the clouds that bring life are endlessly full,
its hitting the leaves and hammering the flames,
the rain has been falling for hours clouds drained,
mother nature has come to protect it's forest greens,
and now for the cycle it's time to resume,
one-hundred more years is good to presume...

Flow

Turning the pages of the dishonest man,
intriguing to some but to others a brand,
falling from the fan vibrating in the window,
of course there's nothing to be seen until we go,
displacing the faces of the fire kiln vases and exchanging the glares of reflective nightmares,
I feel the need to jump at the throat of an angry mob,
time zone that thrives in the misty dry skies,
crazy, eccentric, euphoric at times picking up pieces and following dimes,
hurdling walls and temperament falls to the knees of the waitress with the glass shattered halls,
displacing and skipping through time like the claws of a demon ripping flesh as blood draws,
anger a release is all that is needed when dropped to your knees it's luck that's been seeded,
faith is a feeling that you have or you don't,
not needing the stages of the boot wearing goat,
one exception to the rule is to glare at your reflection in the treacherous pool,
to see what has been and to never again,
your turn at the time makes intention your fuel....

The road

Waking up early one morning I decided to go for a drive and view the colorful fall foliage.  It was about 55 

degrees out and the morning fog was thick in spots.  The fresh smell of the leaves and the glistening of the 

dew were like a perfect recipe for the senses.  About ten minutes outside of town there is a long and windy 

road that leads up to one of my favorite spots to target practice.  I turned off of the main road onto the dirt 

and gravel covered road that will lead me to my destination...or so I had thought.  Just out of the site of the 

last barn there is a sharp corner that leads to the final stretch.  All of the sudden there was a huge explosion 

and a blinding flash.  My ears were ringing and in the confusion I had driven off from the road and directly 

into a patch of thorn trees.  I opened the door with all the strength that I could muster and fell hard to the 

damp forest floor.  Thinking to myself what had just happened, I was confused and still could not hear 

anything except for the loud ringing in my ears.  I leaned against the car so I could gain my composure.  

The only thing I could hear was yelling and screams of pain.  The voices were muffled and it was 

impossible to understand what was being said.  All that I could tell was that something was seriously wrong 

and I had to figure out what the hell was happening.  Suddenly another loud bang and a flash, I went to turn 

and see where the sound had came from but I could only see smoke and clouds of dust lingering in the 

humid fall air.  As I turned back I noticed my car was gone, it had just vanished into thin air.  I had no 

explanation at this point and the only thing that I could think to do is get up and run as fast as I could and try 

to find my way back to the road.  After about twenty seconds I came to a dead stop.  I could not believe 

what I was seeing.  In front of me was an entire regiment of Union soldiers.  Not sure if they could see me I 

started toward them with a sense of not knowing what would happen once they seen me.  I was scared and 

could not stop myself from drawing closer and closer to the soldiers.  Suddenly all at once as if an order was 

given, all of the soldiers aimed their weapons at me and without any apprehension at all, they opened fire.  

Once again there was an amazingly loud explosion and a blinding white light.  Was I dead?  I could feel a 

hand on my shoulder and suddenly the ringing in my ears was gone, like it had never been there.  Then I 

heard a sweet and familiar voice, " daddy, it's time to get up.  Breakfast is ready."

NOTHING

I was just thinking about nothing and decided to share it.  It is interesting that nothing at times can be the most intersting thing going on.  It is nice to have nothing to do sometimes, but eventually it all comes down to how bored will you let yourself get before nothing isn't interesting anymore.  I was sitting outside on my back porch just enjoying the quiet nothingness and the fresh fall air.  As I looked around I realized that there was really nothing going on at all.  This may sound like a boring afternoon, but to me the small bits of serenity that we get are more important than wasting the nothing that we have.

White Height Top

Chase the bird with a plastic cat,
 then shoot the purple pigeon that ate the rat,
a zimp looks at you and it's brain is yellow,
 people always smilin' and sayin' hello,
your tears are like warships drifting in your skin,
 like a white height top the ultimate sin,
chip you lighter on a bottle cap,
 runch the rack on your cat,
 the cat had horns did you know that,
lick the ashes off the bottom of a lake and your hair gets longer like a three headed snake,
the bikes in the road and it hits the windshield,
 it's like talking to your posters with a flag on your tongue,
pain frightening,
ride a streak a bolt of lightning,
swish or swoosh who really cares it's just a damn sign that everyone wears,
from the roof of your mouth, little things moving without your help.....