Posted in Books & Stories, Fiction & Poetry

Not All That As Magazines Go




Reading a ‘high end’ magazine one day I got quite a surprise


You see originally


I had something else written and I thought it too risqué, I mean it invites contributions from readers so being conscientious is definitely the way, until I read a painfully long piece of prose about ankles, ankles in boots and I stopped reading, stunned, thinking, “That can’t be what they want… did this guy know someone…” they’re more reserved than this, call themselves upscale but maybe it’s underlying…


This should be acceptable then


My Father is dying, Dad, wasting away

Now at 125 he’s developed so much the doctors can’t keep track

He’d be on my unit if I were still in medical, Skilled Nursing, with a family of multiple train wrecks that in this short time typing these few words down to 100, maybe less

We stopped getting along a while ago, he couldn’t make me anymore and I thought, “What will I do when you’re not here for me to be mad at”

A crazy thought I guess born from impending loss could be

There can never be another, you’re one who’s unique, there’ll never be another you


And that made me think


It was that song you taught couples to sing at meetings to convince them they should stay married and for what

They found they don’t like each other anyway and they know, well they knew “I know I’ll never find another you”

Shouldn’t have found you in the first place – ha – mutual feelings setting one free

We, together, don’t want to find another you, each other, what are you doing here with me


Which was nothing like what counselors and clergy wanted anyone to think


But this is nothing like reading about ankles in boots

So if you’re not around who now, who will fill those shoes tell me who will it be to cause me to be taken aback though I shouldn’t be surprised

Who will others use to be better than who I portray, holier than me on any given day?

It’s been a long hard road this life we’ve had and I can’t get distance enough


The world’s just too small a place


But I know I’ll never come across someone like you in the most euphemistic way, you know polite sarcasm gone astray

If we weren’t so alike I’d be free but I’ll never find another you because a picture of you is a picture of me


“I never knew someone who hated a parent” I’d heard it said

Unnecessary to look inside myself I knew I’d never hated, knowledge so unfair, I could be surprised and hurt but not for one second was love ever gone, just not there

Nor for less than a second, a fraction so small, you might not have made it I’d thought, now that you’ve passed


But you never needed me


We don’t need anyone to make our journey you see the design was quite grand, is and always will be

I crossed the Plain of Lethe and drank deep from Mnemosyne

I knew I accepted

I was sent back by something greater than us both

Oh you know it’s said we choose the path

A creator of a masterful plan

Nothing mystical really, it had always been clear

No retrospect would inspire nor dictate another way

I know I am who I am and of that truth I will never let go



So they should’ve published my piece, no?



Posted in Fiction & Poetry

Not a Tribute, Just Beginners English


My students wanted to read Rehab, my head hurt I said, oh, oh, oh

Her language is crass, it’s London slang, they said so, so, so

We really think she’s so fly, we’d like to give it a try

My students wanted to read Rehab I conceeded to give it a go


So we all started to read Rehab and they said “Whoa I don’t know

Can we say these things speaking to our friends”, I said no it won’t flow

You might think comprehension has died, but don’t worry at least you tried

Her language is drug and alcohol laced, it’s vocabulary you won’t know


A conclusion they drew

Clever students so true

Was glad to be a part of their show


Since she refused to get to rehab she’s not here no mo

Her daddy grieves, fans are non too pleased, no more concerts to go

Taking time to take care of yourself, that’s where’s the greatest wealth

She passed away, she kept going astray, we say “Girl we tried to tell you so”


That stuff’s no good

Stay away you should

We miss you so, so, so





Posted in Books & Stories, Fiction & Poetry





Steaming up the windows

Stick shift not in my way

Not this time

Cutting a slice of angel cake

Is one way to say it

How long has it been since those days

I dare not say or should I

Never enough room

Did we need it becoming one

Our eyes eating each other alive

Never mind any other move

No one else in the world

Except those who stood outside


Then that knock

On the window it came

We didn’t yet

Oops I was on the keys

Push them through a hairline crack

The window, you know, we had to open it just so

Feel a slight cool breeze


Feel a slight cool breath

Now leave us would you

Where were we…


Oh yes



Posted in Fiction & Poetry



What was I thinking

Before the ritual began?

Move the laptop

Fix the cord

Plug it in here

Get in position

Leave the movie on for a change

But how will I think without silence

A love story though it is I’m watching

Well ok, remember, when was it?

That night

No it was morning

Early A.M.

The dark morning before daylight began


I came to as the wind was blowing

Whipping around the house

The windows were open

I heard it

But I wanted to sleep


As it blew in past the curtains into my face

A perfect chill

I was awake

It woke me you see


You must understand now listen to me


I didn’t want to stir

The alarm had gone off and I wanted more sleep

Simple enough

Just this time

My choice

But the wind stirred instead


Beginning at the end of the house and whipping around rustling leaves

It burst through my window with such icy chill

Refreshing still

That my eyes snapped open

I sat up

Like a lover I thought, but whom?

It excited me


I changed position and sat in my chair to begin the chant

Recollect, calm, to see

Who could it be?

Who, whom, hmmm

I looked within deeply, so deeply

Blackness, peaceful darkness

Then like a feed it began to play

I was in a gym, a school gym clearly

He burst through a door

Yes, burst in wearing a ski mask


He stood behind me

Music began

Electrifying guitar

We danced

Close behind fully clothed

Pay no mind that he danced closer

I felt him so hard through his jeans

I was off my feet leaning back on his lap as he stood and danced

Somehow my body was caressed every inch

Up, down, around all while he stayed, stood behind


It felt good


With a start I opened my eyes

No music did I hear

No gym did I see

Only my tiny room and the curtains blowing

Daylight about to break

Who was he?

Who is he?

My body tingled

But his face I did not see

Posted in Fiction & Poetry, Writing Challenges

Unfinished Business



“She closed the book, placed it on the table and finally decided to walk through the door. There was no back deck and she fell face first in the mud. She awoke with a nudge… nudge… nudge. Standing over her was a T-Rex with long arms. He smiled. “My name is Rogue. Are you ok?” “Huh?” Stunned by the fall she slurred, “You talk… y-yh-yhoo talh… k.” Her eyes rolled back, her body went limp. She dreamt of falling in darkness.”



“How many times have I started off with this … I’ve lost count.” Liv sat back then pushed herself back from the table, just a bit. “How many times indeed. Huh…” Taking another sip of her coffee she looked at it, read it again, then thought of what she had to do. “Two Milano cookies, one slice of pizza in lieu of morning toast, my coffee and pomegranate juice with vitamins, all part of a nutritious breakfast. Need to shawer… shower… learn how to spell… go back to sleep. Can’t. Have to get ready. Ahhh, the sun.” She got up to look out the glass doors and saw the sun in one of those heavenly poses breaking through separating black storm clouds. Squinting she turned her head.


“Yeah. Think I’ll retire this opener. We all know by now she hit her head hard.”


Liv sat up with a start. She rubbed her head with a muddy hand. “What?” She freed her other from the mud with a ‘thwuck’. “Ohhh, argh…” The sun was setting. “How did I get here?”