Mr. Rainbow Sonnet
By the foot of a rainbow I dared cast
A glance at all the things spilling from it
Oh there were treasures! Sparrows darting fast
Jacks of all trades and nightingales a flit
My head tossed back to laugh and as it did this
The rainbow rose and jumped into my throat
Mr Rainbow! I cried in admonish
and in vain, for then I began to float
The little birds took my ankles and wrists
The jacks began to jump up to great heights
'I'll reach heaven!' I cried, 'if this persists'
This was what the rainbow felt, in his flights
I peered from above back down to below
And hoped that I too had, a rainbow glow
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Yesterday I Heard I Died
Yesterday I heard that I died
But I'm sure someone made it up
That liar should be crucified!
I'm just napping before I sup
It's true my limbs don't want to budge,
It's too dark to find the light switch,
And where I am I cannot judge..
But still..this is all just a glitch
Last I recall I was napping
Enraptured by a lovely dream
Next I knew there came a tapping
Like falling dirt the sound did seem
Then the voice came that called me dead
Such a liar! I'm just in bed.
But I'm sure someone made it up
That liar should be crucified!
I'm just napping before I sup
It's true my limbs don't want to budge,
It's too dark to find the light switch,
And where I am I cannot judge..
But still..this is all just a glitch
Last I recall I was napping
Enraptured by a lovely dream
Next I knew there came a tapping
Like falling dirt the sound did seem
Then the voice came that called me dead
Such a liar! I'm just in bed.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Lamb's Dream
Lamb's Dream
The lamb limped onward through the darkened day
Moments whistled by while the wind gusted
Everywhere she looked, everything seemed gray
The instinct to sleep must not be trusted
Her thoughts appeared and were faded like snowflakes
Her dream seemed so lost, like a shattered star
But she had sworn that 'whatever it takes,
'I'll find the valley, no matter how far.'
Indeed her mind was set on that golden
eden where flowers are always in bloom
Raindrops dance not just to be beholden
Some call it the paradisaical flume
Borne on by hope although her hooves did ache
She spun forward like a little snowflake
The lamb limped onward through the darkened day
Moments whistled by while the wind gusted
Everywhere she looked, everything seemed gray
The instinct to sleep must not be trusted
Her thoughts appeared and were faded like snowflakes
Her dream seemed so lost, like a shattered star
But she had sworn that 'whatever it takes,
'I'll find the valley, no matter how far.'
Indeed her mind was set on that golden
eden where flowers are always in bloom
Raindrops dance not just to be beholden
Some call it the paradisaical flume
Borne on by hope although her hooves did ache
She spun forward like a little snowflake
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The Moose Went Loose Sonnet
The Moose Went Loose
There once was a moose floating on water
He had no teeth but his smile was broad
He nodded warmly passing an otter
Who didn't need to say 'your plan is flawed'
The sky greeted him with gushing gold rays
Even the river granted him embrace
He was so touched that dew began to glaze
First just his eyes then to run down his face
The water wound, driving yet more wildly
His legs grew heavy and his mind confused
He saw in the distance....nodded mildly
The liquid in his lungs had long suffused
He felt himself crushed outward like a gall
As he flew, flew, flew, down the waterfall
There once was a moose floating on water
He had no teeth but his smile was broad
He nodded warmly passing an otter
Who didn't need to say 'your plan is flawed'
The sky greeted him with gushing gold rays
Even the river granted him embrace
He was so touched that dew began to glaze
First just his eyes then to run down his face
The water wound, driving yet more wildly
His legs grew heavy and his mind confused
He saw in the distance....nodded mildly
The liquid in his lungs had long suffused
He felt himself crushed outward like a gall
As he flew, flew, flew, down the waterfall
Friday, November 26, 2010
The Lament and the Owl
The Lament and the Owl
'I mean I don't want to think anymore,
emphasis on think' added the sad squirrel
Dropping from a branch to the forest floor
As he said it he gave his tail a swirl
'I was not aware that you even thought'
Said the great owl perched upon a birch
Ignoring the glare that the squirrel shot
'Perhaps there's a way...hmmm I could research..'
'Alas there is not, I've thought it all through!'
Cried the squirrel, paws raised up to falling leaves
'No you haven't, it's too broad an issue'
'Yes I have, you can't fathom how it grieves!'
The owl spun it's head and gave a smirk
Left its perch and ate the squirrel in a jerk
'I mean I don't want to think anymore,
emphasis on think' added the sad squirrel
Dropping from a branch to the forest floor
As he said it he gave his tail a swirl
'I was not aware that you even thought'
Said the great owl perched upon a birch
Ignoring the glare that the squirrel shot
'Perhaps there's a way...hmmm I could research..'
'Alas there is not, I've thought it all through!'
Cried the squirrel, paws raised up to falling leaves
'No you haven't, it's too broad an issue'
'Yes I have, you can't fathom how it grieves!'
The owl spun it's head and gave a smirk
Left its perch and ate the squirrel in a jerk
Monday, November 22, 2010
He's Angry At Me Sonnet
He's Angry At Me Sonnet
Milky, he says, you've stopped eating again
I can tell you've lost weight because your chest
Has gotten smaller, now it looks shrunken
Of course I notice, you know I'm obsessed
I don't bother to reply, to say that
My chest is shrunken because there's no pride
Left in it; no more air, and now no fat
I stay silent so there's less to deride
Later he's mad, he says that I don't eat
That I'm too weak, I embarrass everyone
If he weren't so nice...well I should be beat
I shake and I wait four hours til he's done
Daily I realize I've been left forlorn
Each morning I wish, I could be unborn
Milky, he says, you've stopped eating again
I can tell you've lost weight because your chest
Has gotten smaller, now it looks shrunken
Of course I notice, you know I'm obsessed
I don't bother to reply, to say that
My chest is shrunken because there's no pride
Left in it; no more air, and now no fat
I stay silent so there's less to deride
Later he's mad, he says that I don't eat
That I'm too weak, I embarrass everyone
If he weren't so nice...well I should be beat
I shake and I wait four hours til he's done
Daily I realize I've been left forlorn
Each morning I wish, I could be unborn
The Dead Collie Sonnet
The Dead Collie
The sun warmed benignly while the clouds lazed
When the car drove too fast while the collie
Jumped the fence and stepped into the road dazed
How could he know this was his last folly
But he was not made to live by a fence
He just wanted to roam like gusts of wind
Wanted to trod leaves in a forest dense
The jump was made now he couldn't rescind...
The wheels squealed in regret for what they'd do
His eyes opened wide but his body froze
Something cried run but it couldn't break through
The veins were broken, and spurting blood rose
He lay on the ground, he lay under tire
The last I saw him ere funeral pyre
The sun warmed benignly while the clouds lazed
When the car drove too fast while the collie
Jumped the fence and stepped into the road dazed
How could he know this was his last folly
But he was not made to live by a fence
He just wanted to roam like gusts of wind
Wanted to trod leaves in a forest dense
The jump was made now he couldn't rescind...
The wheels squealed in regret for what they'd do
His eyes opened wide but his body froze
Something cried run but it couldn't break through
The veins were broken, and spurting blood rose
He lay on the ground, he lay under tire
The last I saw him ere funeral pyre
Fireflies at Dusk Sonnet
We were playing in the garden at dusk
Laughing as the shadows chased us around
They were soft with an effervescent musk
The stars twinkled out, soared over the ground
Fireflies emerged carrying our dreams
Watching our games lay lilacs underfoot
Stars that were falling brightened into streams
Maybe we were streaming; they just stayed put
You laughed once and your smile engulfed it
With a missing tooth you now had suction
The gap was narrow; it didn't all fit
You weren't bothered by the obstruction
Just like a rainbow swirling light spectrum
Out into the air, out away, you've swum
Laughing as the shadows chased us around
They were soft with an effervescent musk
The stars twinkled out, soared over the ground
Fireflies emerged carrying our dreams
Watching our games lay lilacs underfoot
Stars that were falling brightened into streams
Maybe we were streaming; they just stayed put
You laughed once and your smile engulfed it
With a missing tooth you now had suction
The gap was narrow; it didn't all fit
You weren't bothered by the obstruction
Just like a rainbow swirling light spectrum
Out into the air, out away, you've swum
A Visit to No-Land Sonnet
The grass I trod was mostly stale
Dirty brambles oozed their outlines amid
Tufts of green, budding so timid and frail
I had to look down, whatever I did
A branch that leered at me overhanging
Began to bend into my direction
And called out to me with a voice clanging
Soft as dew, upon reflection
'Scuse me dear, do you feel naïve today?
It's incumbent on me to question fools
Who visit this land, so deep in the fray
Who are not yet privy to our grand rules'
I answered the branch, yes I was aware
Why I'd come to no-land, was my affair
Dirty brambles oozed their outlines amid
Tufts of green, budding so timid and frail
I had to look down, whatever I did
A branch that leered at me overhanging
Began to bend into my direction
And called out to me with a voice clanging
Soft as dew, upon reflection
'Scuse me dear, do you feel naïve today?
It's incumbent on me to question fools
Who visit this land, so deep in the fray
Who are not yet privy to our grand rules'
I answered the branch, yes I was aware
Why I'd come to no-land, was my affair
The Oma Says Sonnet
Oma Says
My underwear drawer, she says is a mess
Thrown in together with nothing folded
and that I can't iron is scandalous
I force a weak smile as I'm scolded
The oma shakes her head while she mumbles
Her accent is stark and her eyes narrow
I hope she won't hear my stomach rumbles
She asks Hans gruffly if I'm a sparrow
A sparrow? Oh I'm not! But if I were
How far away I'd fly from every slight
A sparrow would never wait and endure...
Even a sparrow would be more forthright.
The Oma says I need to learn to cook
I tell her shut up – but only by look
My underwear drawer, she says is a mess
Thrown in together with nothing folded
and that I can't iron is scandalous
I force a weak smile as I'm scolded
The oma shakes her head while she mumbles
Her accent is stark and her eyes narrow
I hope she won't hear my stomach rumbles
She asks Hans gruffly if I'm a sparrow
A sparrow? Oh I'm not! But if I were
How far away I'd fly from every slight
A sparrow would never wait and endure...
Even a sparrow would be more forthright.
The Oma says I need to learn to cook
I tell her shut up – but only by look
Monday, November 8, 2010
Time Entangle Sonnet
Time Entangle
They weren’t looking but the clock was striking
The hands crawling forward, time marching on
Most of his remarks were to her liking
he knew it too so he hoovered withdrawn
Just like ants frenzied this way now that way
Scuttling about – they think it matters
For each one has big thoughts to convey
Then foot falls down and each one splatters
For the briefest second, time – the mirage
They slip from its grasp, from out its vantage
Into shadows but not without presage
Never forget, someone wins advantage
They thought they left time but it was an angle
When they looked back they saw just a tangle
They weren’t looking but the clock was striking
The hands crawling forward, time marching on
Most of his remarks were to her liking
he knew it too so he hoovered withdrawn
Just like ants frenzied this way now that way
Scuttling about – they think it matters
For each one has big thoughts to convey
Then foot falls down and each one splatters
For the briefest second, time – the mirage
They slip from its grasp, from out its vantage
Into shadows but not without presage
Never forget, someone wins advantage
They thought they left time but it was an angle
When they looked back they saw just a tangle
The Dancefloor Sonnet
The Dancefloor Sonnet
The light became the dark as I was spun
Past shades of people I carried in me
Cresting up to lines of oblivion
Feelings, thoughts, etched by smoky sensory
Lighting was blitzing down onto my head
Everything in me split out into streaks
The bass cut into me so that I bled
I wasn't me - I was one of the freaks
Remember his face, remember that time?
He turned away as you tripped on the stone
I heard his eyes then, thump thump like a rhyme
So long forgotten, you'd never have known
I stood and I danced and let it rush back
It was all that I was, til the next track
The light became the dark as I was spun
Past shades of people I carried in me
Cresting up to lines of oblivion
Feelings, thoughts, etched by smoky sensory
Lighting was blitzing down onto my head
Everything in me split out into streaks
The bass cut into me so that I bled
I wasn't me - I was one of the freaks
Remember his face, remember that time?
He turned away as you tripped on the stone
I heard his eyes then, thump thump like a rhyme
So long forgotten, you'd never have known
I stood and I danced and let it rush back
It was all that I was, til the next track
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Strider's Sonnet
In the morning the light crawled through the sky
He raised his bronze neck to appraise the shape
'Will the sun rise ever, and if so, why?'
He thought as he stretched, and began to traipse
He walked alone then spotted his first son
Darting like a whisper by the brown fence
Whenever he ran it seemed he won
All his trophies at his father's expense
Further on was his sister who was lame
Her eyes were lovely like a rose in bloom
But through her gait he could see her shame
With regret he nodded – she knew well her doom
He turned back, sighing upward in remorse
So sad yet so gay, our dying race horse
He raised his bronze neck to appraise the shape
'Will the sun rise ever, and if so, why?'
He thought as he stretched, and began to traipse
He walked alone then spotted his first son
Darting like a whisper by the brown fence
Whenever he ran it seemed he won
All his trophies at his father's expense
Further on was his sister who was lame
Her eyes were lovely like a rose in bloom
But through her gait he could see her shame
With regret he nodded – she knew well her doom
He turned back, sighing upward in remorse
So sad yet so gay, our dying race horse
Monday, October 25, 2010
Sonnet - In Class
Sonnet - In Class
Like an ant I sit down in the third row
Spread my papers and keep my head lowered
Pretend not to care, pretend he won't know
Whatever you do, don't utter a word
At last he appears, gray eyes and glasses
Not looking at me, he won't look at me
My chest throbs and shudders but... it passes
He knows my sorrow, doesn't want to see
The other students sit around but they
Don't know how rapid my chest is beating
How emotions are cracking in - disarray!
Mocked as I sit by fancies long fleeting
So I listen, can't distinguish a word
So I look up.. I won't see through eyes blurred
Like an ant I sit down in the third row
Spread my papers and keep my head lowered
Pretend not to care, pretend he won't know
Whatever you do, don't utter a word
At last he appears, gray eyes and glasses
Not looking at me, he won't look at me
My chest throbs and shudders but... it passes
He knows my sorrow, doesn't want to see
The other students sit around but they
Don't know how rapid my chest is beating
How emotions are cracking in - disarray!
Mocked as I sit by fancies long fleeting
So I listen, can't distinguish a word
So I look up.. I won't see through eyes blurred
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Cannot Be - Sonnet
I've waited so long for the night to dawn
For the sky to let its black wings lengthen
For all that's clear to flutter and be gone
Shadows to unwind, unfurl and strengthen
Yes, I waited for this eve, for its tale
Just as I once waited - to touch his arm...
As I stood shaking and couldn't inhale
No air could pass through his spurious charm
Now the night is here, alive and churning
Across the room there is space between us
Over and again I feel him spurning
Although I know he's doing what he must
Never can it be – yet I was praying
Amid our glances I'd find allaying
For the sky to let its black wings lengthen
For all that's clear to flutter and be gone
Shadows to unwind, unfurl and strengthen
Yes, I waited for this eve, for its tale
Just as I once waited - to touch his arm...
As I stood shaking and couldn't inhale
No air could pass through his spurious charm
Now the night is here, alive and churning
Across the room there is space between us
Over and again I feel him spurning
Although I know he's doing what he must
Never can it be – yet I was praying
Amid our glances I'd find allaying
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The Lizard's Tears - Sonnet
The Lizard's Tears
The lizard sat there and yet he was more
I'd heard nine tales that this lizard could cry
I sat there waiting, but oh, what a bore..
Not one, not one, teardrop slipped from his eye
At last, impatient, I just had to ask
'Mr Lizard I've heard that you can cry!
But in my eyes you're not up to the task
You've sat there all day, why are your cheeks dry?'
The lizard didn't budge although his tongue
Flickered out like a pink, biting retort
Before I could move he had leapt and sprung
Poised now above me on a rock, athwart
At last our eyes locked, all four intrepid
His eyes angry - yet out of one slid...
The lizard sat there and yet he was more
I'd heard nine tales that this lizard could cry
I sat there waiting, but oh, what a bore..
Not one, not one, teardrop slipped from his eye
At last, impatient, I just had to ask
'Mr Lizard I've heard that you can cry!
But in my eyes you're not up to the task
You've sat there all day, why are your cheeks dry?'
The lizard didn't budge although his tongue
Flickered out like a pink, biting retort
Before I could move he had leapt and sprung
Poised now above me on a rock, athwart
At last our eyes locked, all four intrepid
His eyes angry - yet out of one slid...
The Sprite Song - Sonnet
The Sprite Song
By the back of the slumbering white sky
Suspended among turning wisps of space
His face turns to mine, askance and awry
My gaze reflects fear, but his, just grace
His eyes are deep violet and they glitter
Like a sprite's ensconced in a secret game
My blood is pumping, my hearts a-flitter
Before I can speak he requests my name
Meanwhile I drape my hand in my curls
The stubble on his chin is gold and shines
In air I draw letters with dashes and swirls
'That's not the right name', he reading, opines
Names, he declares, are everything that's wrong
'But stay here sweet girl, I'll name you a song.'
By the back of the slumbering white sky
Suspended among turning wisps of space
His face turns to mine, askance and awry
My gaze reflects fear, but his, just grace
His eyes are deep violet and they glitter
Like a sprite's ensconced in a secret game
My blood is pumping, my hearts a-flitter
Before I can speak he requests my name
Meanwhile I drape my hand in my curls
The stubble on his chin is gold and shines
In air I draw letters with dashes and swirls
'That's not the right name', he reading, opines
Names, he declares, are everything that's wrong
'But stay here sweet girl, I'll name you a song.'
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Terror of Night Sonnet
Terror of Night
In the wake of evening, without a drop
Of thoughts not sombre, my cringe falls upward
The empty inside filled up from atop
So that I can't struggle, can't scream a word
I reach back for my mind, beg my lungs to bend
The covers, meanwhile, are a-trembling
Yet I can't move so I try to pretend
This is not real, my mind is dissembling!
Nevertheless my limbs are lying trapped
Breathe circles over refuses lung
Squeezing me to death, in what am I wrapped?
My tongue won't budge but my tale is unsung
I can still feel night floating like a crest
That's engulfing me, and crushing my chest
In the wake of evening, without a drop
Of thoughts not sombre, my cringe falls upward
The empty inside filled up from atop
So that I can't struggle, can't scream a word
I reach back for my mind, beg my lungs to bend
The covers, meanwhile, are a-trembling
Yet I can't move so I try to pretend
This is not real, my mind is dissembling!
Nevertheless my limbs are lying trapped
Breathe circles over refuses lung
Squeezing me to death, in what am I wrapped?
My tongue won't budge but my tale is unsung
I can still feel night floating like a crest
That's engulfing me, and crushing my chest
Labels:
death,
night terror,
poem,
poetry,
sonnet
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Rainer: The First Meeting
Rainer: The First Meeting
The early night was balmy and laced with drunken shouts and intonations. Faces illuminated under bright lights in a line looked forward with a mixture of hope, impatience, and the anticipation of a haphazard series of undertakings. The spell of youthful indulgence breezed through Berlin like a ghost-rider across corn fields as though no one in the world, and yet everyone who had ever lived, was watching all at once. Bottles clicked and lost their contents, makeup smudged under the eyes and everyday events were discussed by the waiting line in earnest and with applause. There was no need for anything more than what the night held at that moment, and for all those concerned, there might as well have been no more in the world than that four hour line in Berlin before that club. This is for our purposes, the point of reference and the only place in the world that exists in this story. Of course no story or event is isolated, but we will leave relating the manifold chains of time for another time and place.
Rainer began work promptly at 10:08 p.m., which for work at a nightclub that considers itself too rebellious to abide by societal rules about punctuality is extremely timely. Today had been a rather successful day for him – he had only cried once about his broken heart and had not spent more than two hours ruminating on his lost, red-headed girlfriend. He stood before the entrance of the club confirming or disallowing guests in on the VIP side wearing long denim shorts, black Reebok shoes and a black shirt that showed the tip of his tattoo coming up his neck. His head was shaved as always, making him look somehow shark-like and yet at the same time handsome in an earnest way. There were slight blue circles under his eyes, likely related to his working at night six nights a week. His face was even, fairly pale, and wore at that moment what he considered to be its 'menacing' expression, meaning he kept his eyes slightly narrowed, and his head tilted upwards towards the sky until it came time for him to address someone – then he lowered it to them.
Twenty minutes long he had been standing there, greeting important guests or firmly rejecting the irrelevant who attempted to enter his side – the VIP and returning guest side, when a girl came up behind him. Her hair was blond and a curly and she was petite – nearly a foot shorter than him. She had on a teal tank top and a jean skirt and appeared slightly tanned from three months of summer. Approaching him intrepidly, she asked in a high voice heavily tainted with an American accent if she could ask him a question. He hated when people began conversations like that.
“I know that you are going to say no, but I have to ask anyway since I promised” she began looking up at him.
“Then ask me and get it over with so that I can say no,” he replied curtly, not taking his eyes away from approaching guests but looking at her deftly enough to notice she was attractive.
“My friends are waiting in line and they have been for over an hour. The line isn't moving and I told them they probably won't get in anyway. It's not possible that I leave and they come back in with me, is it?”
“No, that isn't possible. It's not fair to the other guests.”
“You're right, it's not. I didn't want to ask but I promised I would try anyway. I'll go tell them to leave,” she said as she skipped by him through the exit, which was conveniently the returning guest and VIP entrance. Ten minutes later she reappeared and as she approached him he noticed her childish features for the first time. As a rule, he didn't make exceptions for rich or beautiful people so he even did his best not to notice things like that – out of pride of course.
“I'm sorry about your friends,” he said again. “It's not fair to other people though.”
“No I understand... What's your name?” she asked him hesitantly.
“Rainer, my name is Rainer.”
“Nice to meet you, I'm Karla.”
“You are visiting Berlin? Why do you speak such good German?”
“I live here, for over a year now. I study in German.”
“You know you look 16, Let me look at your ID,” he said smirking.
She stood there while he handled the flummox of guests pouring in and waited until it was quiet again, when he returned to her to speak. Eight hours later when she visited him for the fifth time that night while he worked and there were few people attempting to enter, he asked her first for her number and, having that, asked her if he could kiss her. The sun had risen and marked a clear yet softly cloudish morning as she left and went home, while he stood yet still by his post and watched her walk away, into the morning breeze and away from the nightlife.
The early night was balmy and laced with drunken shouts and intonations. Faces illuminated under bright lights in a line looked forward with a mixture of hope, impatience, and the anticipation of a haphazard series of undertakings. The spell of youthful indulgence breezed through Berlin like a ghost-rider across corn fields as though no one in the world, and yet everyone who had ever lived, was watching all at once. Bottles clicked and lost their contents, makeup smudged under the eyes and everyday events were discussed by the waiting line in earnest and with applause. There was no need for anything more than what the night held at that moment, and for all those concerned, there might as well have been no more in the world than that four hour line in Berlin before that club. This is for our purposes, the point of reference and the only place in the world that exists in this story. Of course no story or event is isolated, but we will leave relating the manifold chains of time for another time and place.
Rainer began work promptly at 10:08 p.m., which for work at a nightclub that considers itself too rebellious to abide by societal rules about punctuality is extremely timely. Today had been a rather successful day for him – he had only cried once about his broken heart and had not spent more than two hours ruminating on his lost, red-headed girlfriend. He stood before the entrance of the club confirming or disallowing guests in on the VIP side wearing long denim shorts, black Reebok shoes and a black shirt that showed the tip of his tattoo coming up his neck. His head was shaved as always, making him look somehow shark-like and yet at the same time handsome in an earnest way. There were slight blue circles under his eyes, likely related to his working at night six nights a week. His face was even, fairly pale, and wore at that moment what he considered to be its 'menacing' expression, meaning he kept his eyes slightly narrowed, and his head tilted upwards towards the sky until it came time for him to address someone – then he lowered it to them.
Twenty minutes long he had been standing there, greeting important guests or firmly rejecting the irrelevant who attempted to enter his side – the VIP and returning guest side, when a girl came up behind him. Her hair was blond and a curly and she was petite – nearly a foot shorter than him. She had on a teal tank top and a jean skirt and appeared slightly tanned from three months of summer. Approaching him intrepidly, she asked in a high voice heavily tainted with an American accent if she could ask him a question. He hated when people began conversations like that.
“I know that you are going to say no, but I have to ask anyway since I promised” she began looking up at him.
“Then ask me and get it over with so that I can say no,” he replied curtly, not taking his eyes away from approaching guests but looking at her deftly enough to notice she was attractive.
“My friends are waiting in line and they have been for over an hour. The line isn't moving and I told them they probably won't get in anyway. It's not possible that I leave and they come back in with me, is it?”
“No, that isn't possible. It's not fair to the other guests.”
“You're right, it's not. I didn't want to ask but I promised I would try anyway. I'll go tell them to leave,” she said as she skipped by him through the exit, which was conveniently the returning guest and VIP entrance. Ten minutes later she reappeared and as she approached him he noticed her childish features for the first time. As a rule, he didn't make exceptions for rich or beautiful people so he even did his best not to notice things like that – out of pride of course.
“I'm sorry about your friends,” he said again. “It's not fair to other people though.”
“No I understand... What's your name?” she asked him hesitantly.
“Rainer, my name is Rainer.”
“Nice to meet you, I'm Karla.”
“You are visiting Berlin? Why do you speak such good German?”
“I live here, for over a year now. I study in German.”
“You know you look 16, Let me look at your ID,” he said smirking.
She stood there while he handled the flummox of guests pouring in and waited until it was quiet again, when he returned to her to speak. Eight hours later when she visited him for the fifth time that night while he worked and there were few people attempting to enter, he asked her first for her number and, having that, asked her if he could kiss her. The sun had risen and marked a clear yet softly cloudish morning as she left and went home, while he stood yet still by his post and watched her walk away, into the morning breeze and away from the nightlife.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Along the Cliff - Fiction
I was too restless to wait and went to walk along the craggy cliffside. The moon was gaping at me with a translucent fixation and the balmy air was swirling around my head in golden threads. I wasn't focused on any one thought, I let the air of the sea stream around me. My hair blew delicately in the wind and the clouds that hung alongside the pale moon, seemed to mimic its route in circles.
The water was waving at me from below, swishing and whispering to me words I could not quite grasp. A part of me was at ease and yet a part of me was shown how at ease I would never, could never, be. No, I could never flow that gently and cleanly as the sea or the clouds, and I envied them as I admired them. An action may be in vain but nonetheless, it is better carried out, or felt, than repressed. So I reasoned with my envy and left it.
The ground broke under my bare feet, the grass quilted in aqua dew tickling the soles. I breathed in deeply. While I exhaled I sensed a stirring to my right. Without turning my head I strained my hearing to catch a glimmer of what was moving towards me. A moment later a shape revealed itself.
His head was pale and lips were red, it was as though they had the same aqua dew as the grass upon them. I paused my strides and tilted my head, awaiting his appearance. Barely perceptibly he strode over the moonlit grass, like a ghost in the shadow of the clouds. Barely perceptibly I held my breathe. He nodded his head at me, showing me the chestnut crown that lent clockwise.
I feigned modesty and dropped my eyes. He breathed in my affectation, as I had anticipated, and half-smiled. I mimiced his action, although mine was not sincere and his was. What is sincerity anyway, sometimes it seems to me nothing more than laziness, simpleness...I'm dreadfully envious of the sincere. I waited to let him speak, so that he would have the impression he was in control. It's very important for men to feel that they are in control. Mockingly I let them assume it when it's time, knowing all the while that once I reverse the power hierarchy for a moment the effect will be doubled.
My nature is cold, I can do nothing for it. His hand is warm as he reaches out to touch my arm. His touch is soft, like the moonlight that slides over our bodies. He is taller than me, of thin and muscular build, with an even, symmetrical face. I raise my head upwards towards the heaven so that our gaze is level, though I stand a good deal under him. The tide swishes below and the air seems to begin swirling around us. I let myself pretend it is, giving in to illusions of the senses is one of the few things left to me.
Still I don't speak- it's important that he begin. And he does, of course. A moment later a cloud slips in front of the moon, so that we are basked in a dull glow and the night carves itself away above the swishing sea...
The water was waving at me from below, swishing and whispering to me words I could not quite grasp. A part of me was at ease and yet a part of me was shown how at ease I would never, could never, be. No, I could never flow that gently and cleanly as the sea or the clouds, and I envied them as I admired them. An action may be in vain but nonetheless, it is better carried out, or felt, than repressed. So I reasoned with my envy and left it.
The ground broke under my bare feet, the grass quilted in aqua dew tickling the soles. I breathed in deeply. While I exhaled I sensed a stirring to my right. Without turning my head I strained my hearing to catch a glimmer of what was moving towards me. A moment later a shape revealed itself.
His head was pale and lips were red, it was as though they had the same aqua dew as the grass upon them. I paused my strides and tilted my head, awaiting his appearance. Barely perceptibly he strode over the moonlit grass, like a ghost in the shadow of the clouds. Barely perceptibly I held my breathe. He nodded his head at me, showing me the chestnut crown that lent clockwise.
I feigned modesty and dropped my eyes. He breathed in my affectation, as I had anticipated, and half-smiled. I mimiced his action, although mine was not sincere and his was. What is sincerity anyway, sometimes it seems to me nothing more than laziness, simpleness...I'm dreadfully envious of the sincere. I waited to let him speak, so that he would have the impression he was in control. It's very important for men to feel that they are in control. Mockingly I let them assume it when it's time, knowing all the while that once I reverse the power hierarchy for a moment the effect will be doubled.
My nature is cold, I can do nothing for it. His hand is warm as he reaches out to touch my arm. His touch is soft, like the moonlight that slides over our bodies. He is taller than me, of thin and muscular build, with an even, symmetrical face. I raise my head upwards towards the heaven so that our gaze is level, though I stand a good deal under him. The tide swishes below and the air seems to begin swirling around us. I let myself pretend it is, giving in to illusions of the senses is one of the few things left to me.
Still I don't speak- it's important that he begin. And he does, of course. A moment later a cloud slips in front of the moon, so that we are basked in a dull glow and the night carves itself away above the swishing sea...
I Woke Up and Decided Suicide - Fiction
I'm not a moody person. I woke up this morning and decided to kill myself. Now you must be thinking if a man wants to kill himself, well then he surely has a grand reason, he has thought it all through, he has reasoned his life is no longer of worth. As a matter of fact, I know perfectly well that my life is of worth and one could even, yes sir, one could even call me content. So why in the world did I wake up this morning and decide to kill myself? Yes sir, that is a great question!!
I'm 37 years old and I'm engaged to be married in two months. No I haven't told my bride yet that I'm going to be dead this afternoon - she wouldn't take it very well. I despise scenes and she would make sure to throw one - complete with hair pulling (I'm almost bald but she would grab onto the few scraps left like a tiger) and biting. What kind of person bites another person? An animalistic person. My fiance - she is a biter. As a respectable man, I have been forced to invest in especially long-sleeved shirts that go excessively over your wrists in order to hide the marks she leaves after our 'discussions.' But it's not her biting and the marks it leaves, nor the indignity of her hair pulling, that has lead me to this decision...no indeed. I'm perfectly content with her disgracing my figure.
I'm not a moody man but I am a curious one. Is that so bad? Of course not. Wait. That's a lie. I'm not curious, not about anything. I stopped being curious years ago. Last time I was curious and investigated a noise on the street, it ended with me going head on with a racoon that sprang from the trashcan like a super-racoon. I gave up curiousity for contentment. That's the problem. I'm content. So when the clock strikes midnight...here I come. I woke up this morning and content and that's why this afternoon - I'm going to kill myself.
I'm 37 years old and I'm engaged to be married in two months. No I haven't told my bride yet that I'm going to be dead this afternoon - she wouldn't take it very well. I despise scenes and she would make sure to throw one - complete with hair pulling (I'm almost bald but she would grab onto the few scraps left like a tiger) and biting. What kind of person bites another person? An animalistic person. My fiance - she is a biter. As a respectable man, I have been forced to invest in especially long-sleeved shirts that go excessively over your wrists in order to hide the marks she leaves after our 'discussions.' But it's not her biting and the marks it leaves, nor the indignity of her hair pulling, that has lead me to this decision...no indeed. I'm perfectly content with her disgracing my figure.
I'm not a moody man but I am a curious one. Is that so bad? Of course not. Wait. That's a lie. I'm not curious, not about anything. I stopped being curious years ago. Last time I was curious and investigated a noise on the street, it ended with me going head on with a racoon that sprang from the trashcan like a super-racoon. I gave up curiousity for contentment. That's the problem. I'm content. So when the clock strikes midnight...here I come. I woke up this morning and content and that's why this afternoon - I'm going to kill myself.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Wonder - A Sonnet
The Wonder
Shimmering upon a surface bubble
Emerged a face blistering like cinder
I felt inside it would cause me trouble
I could run, there was nothing to hinder...
The lips were red and the eyes transparent
The nose was noble as an eagle's beak
Before I spoke it began to lament
That it hadn't had human in a week!
My eyelids fluttered down while the face flailed
It flailed and wailed and bellowed like a god
Like only a god could while my cheeks paled
Sure to be eaten by a lake facade!
No sign of life after I slid under
Where did I go? My last thought was wonder.
Shimmering upon a surface bubble
Emerged a face blistering like cinder
I felt inside it would cause me trouble
I could run, there was nothing to hinder...
The lips were red and the eyes transparent
The nose was noble as an eagle's beak
Before I spoke it began to lament
That it hadn't had human in a week!
My eyelids fluttered down while the face flailed
It flailed and wailed and bellowed like a god
Like only a god could while my cheeks paled
Sure to be eaten by a lake facade!
No sign of life after I slid under
Where did I go? My last thought was wonder.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Family Drama Fiction - Pumpkin Pie
'I would like everyone here to know that I am very angry. Not just angry, fed up. You don't have any right to treat me like this!' she cried howling as she began to bawl. 'You don't, you don't, ahahahah' she cried louder. For a moment there was a hush as her outbreak began, in her head I should say anyway, (for in actuality her fits were common day enough that her family went on merrily as though a bird were chirping in the center of the room,) so in her head there was this silence...and she felt herself slightly redeemed. For, she reasoned, if she could force them to be quiet for a minute, that meant they must care, right?
Her large blue velvety dress was meant to be billowy but instead hung snuggly over her rotund, apple shaped figure. The skirt ran down to her ankles, which were fashioned with real gold bracelets. Like a bird, she wanted to put out her best feathers when she dressed. Her son, when he wanted to complain about his overbearing, loud, mother, always returned to her ankle bracelets. What sort of 49 year old woman couldn't leave the home without ankle bracelets jingling?
Her husband gave himself a moment of rest before he abandoned his genial conversation and made his way over to her. She stood in the center of the room, her wavy red hair pointing in all directions.
'There there, dearest, everyone agrees with you. You are right. Your pumpkin pie is inconceivably better than Mrs. Portley's,' he said placating her.
'Oh gosh, no you are just saying that' she said as a fresh hot spray darted down her cheeks.
'No dearest, no, yours is delicious. Hers...hers tastes like she adds chalk to it or, even worse' and here his voice crept lower and he began to whisper, 'even worse, like she uses low-fat milk.'
His wife took a sharp inward breathe. The thought was nauseating!
'Really, you mean it?' she asked softly, all too ready to be feel merry now that her tears were out.
'Yes, dear...low fat!'
She sighed, wiped her eyes, and went to have another slice.
Her large blue velvety dress was meant to be billowy but instead hung snuggly over her rotund, apple shaped figure. The skirt ran down to her ankles, which were fashioned with real gold bracelets. Like a bird, she wanted to put out her best feathers when she dressed. Her son, when he wanted to complain about his overbearing, loud, mother, always returned to her ankle bracelets. What sort of 49 year old woman couldn't leave the home without ankle bracelets jingling?
Her husband gave himself a moment of rest before he abandoned his genial conversation and made his way over to her. She stood in the center of the room, her wavy red hair pointing in all directions.
'There there, dearest, everyone agrees with you. You are right. Your pumpkin pie is inconceivably better than Mrs. Portley's,' he said placating her.
'Oh gosh, no you are just saying that' she said as a fresh hot spray darted down her cheeks.
'No dearest, no, yours is delicious. Hers...hers tastes like she adds chalk to it or, even worse' and here his voice crept lower and he began to whisper, 'even worse, like she uses low-fat milk.'
His wife took a sharp inward breathe. The thought was nauseating!
'Really, you mean it?' she asked softly, all too ready to be feel merry now that her tears were out.
'Yes, dear...low fat!'
She sighed, wiped her eyes, and went to have another slice.
Labels:
drama,
family,
fiction,
low fat,
prose,
pumpkin pie,
short story
Monday, September 6, 2010
The Quagmire Twin - A Sonnet
The Quagmire Twin
The surface was boiling, resplendent
The murky ebb that would surely obscure
The harrowing glance of a malcontent
Standing on the edge of a heather moor
I was drawn in just like a pendulum
That swings now this way and swings now backwards
To each transient lease it will succumb
It dons every moment and then discards
My reflection was marred by muddy brown
The lips detached and the eyes now fallen
Wearing leaves but no hair, like a crown
It studied me back, my ebbing twin
Longing to dissolve in the quagmire
I lent close - wanting all to transpire.
The surface was boiling, resplendent
The murky ebb that would surely obscure
The harrowing glance of a malcontent
Standing on the edge of a heather moor
I was drawn in just like a pendulum
That swings now this way and swings now backwards
To each transient lease it will succumb
It dons every moment and then discards
My reflection was marred by muddy brown
The lips detached and the eyes now fallen
Wearing leaves but no hair, like a crown
It studied me back, my ebbing twin
Longing to dissolve in the quagmire
I lent close - wanting all to transpire.
Horrorgeschichte – die Amalgamfüllung Teil 2
Es schien ihm, er hatte seine Augen nur gerade geschlossen, als er plötzlich ganz wach war. Vier Augen starrten ihn an. Zwei eis- blaue, zwei graue...'aber jetzt fast...gelb...ging der Gedanke durch seinem Kopf, aber so schnell, er bemerkte es nicht selber.
'Peter, Anna... ihr seid...ihr seid...' begann er zögernd
'Weißt du Erik, du hast uns im Stich verlassen' sagte Anna.
'Im Stich gelassen' wiederholt Peter.
'Das war sehr böse Ich dachte wir waren Freunden. Aber nicht mit einem Feigling' fuhr Anna fort.
'Mit einem Feigling' wiederholt Peter.
'Wir habe etwas gesehen. Etwas wunderbares. Ich sag es dir nicht, es ist unser Geheimnis' sie sagte aufgeregt.
'Unser Geheimnis' flüsterte Peter.
'Aber ich werde dir verzeihen, wenn du mir etwas gibst. Weißt du, was ich will' sagte Anna, ihre Augen waren jetzt ganz gelb, und Erik fühlte sein Unterbiss schütteln
'Was ich willllllllll' sang Peter, seine Miene war fast selig und die Türkis Augen wurden groesser und groesser.
'Seid Ihr nicht sauer auf..auf...auf... mm--m-mich. Ich..ich...die Schrei...Angst...' flüsterte Erik atemlos.
'Shhhhhh' sagte die andere zwei zusammen.
'Mach die Augen zu' instruierte Anna. Ihr Gesicht brachte sie näher zur ihm, wo er auf dem Bett lag. Die Ecken ihres Munds begann zu grinsen, oder vielleicht zu zucken.
'Augen zu' sang Peter wieder.
Er wollte schreien aber er war gefroren. Stille. Die zwei warteten auf ihn. Seine Augen schlossen sich gegen seinen Wille. Dann war er schreiend, die Schmerz in seinem Mund zu groß Nachdem was sich wie eine Ewigkeit anfühlt, waren die Schmerzen plötzlich verschwunden. Seine Augen oeffnetten sich mühelos, und er war ganz allein mit dem Mondlicht, das durch sein offenes Fenster schien.
Sein Mund war nass und schmeckte bitter, wie Salz oder...Blut. Mit einem zitternden Finger berührte er seinen Unterbiss, und zog die Finger zum Licht. Hell rot. Was für eine Farbe, dachte er. So hell und...rot. Er hatte nie gesehen, wie schön es wirklich war. Er bemerkte langsam, nicht nur sein Mund war nass, auch seine Bluse, seine Decke...alles war dieses wunderschöne hellrot. Er dachte er waer in diese Farbe verliebt; dann er sank endlich dahin.
'Peter, Anna... ihr seid...ihr seid...' begann er zögernd
'Weißt du Erik, du hast uns im Stich verlassen' sagte Anna.
'Im Stich gelassen' wiederholt Peter.
'Das war sehr böse Ich dachte wir waren Freunden. Aber nicht mit einem Feigling' fuhr Anna fort.
'Mit einem Feigling' wiederholt Peter.
'Wir habe etwas gesehen. Etwas wunderbares. Ich sag es dir nicht, es ist unser Geheimnis' sie sagte aufgeregt.
'Unser Geheimnis' flüsterte Peter.
'Aber ich werde dir verzeihen, wenn du mir etwas gibst. Weißt du, was ich will' sagte Anna, ihre Augen waren jetzt ganz gelb, und Erik fühlte sein Unterbiss schütteln
'Was ich willllllllll' sang Peter, seine Miene war fast selig und die Türkis Augen wurden groesser und groesser.
'Seid Ihr nicht sauer auf..auf...auf... mm--m-mich. Ich..ich...die Schrei...Angst...' flüsterte Erik atemlos.
'Shhhhhh' sagte die andere zwei zusammen.
'Mach die Augen zu' instruierte Anna. Ihr Gesicht brachte sie näher zur ihm, wo er auf dem Bett lag. Die Ecken ihres Munds begann zu grinsen, oder vielleicht zu zucken.
'Augen zu' sang Peter wieder.
Er wollte schreien aber er war gefroren. Stille. Die zwei warteten auf ihn. Seine Augen schlossen sich gegen seinen Wille. Dann war er schreiend, die Schmerz in seinem Mund zu groß Nachdem was sich wie eine Ewigkeit anfühlt, waren die Schmerzen plötzlich verschwunden. Seine Augen oeffnetten sich mühelos, und er war ganz allein mit dem Mondlicht, das durch sein offenes Fenster schien.
Sein Mund war nass und schmeckte bitter, wie Salz oder...Blut. Mit einem zitternden Finger berührte er seinen Unterbiss, und zog die Finger zum Licht. Hell rot. Was für eine Farbe, dachte er. So hell und...rot. Er hatte nie gesehen, wie schön es wirklich war. Er bemerkte langsam, nicht nur sein Mund war nass, auch seine Bluse, seine Decke...alles war dieses wunderschöne hellrot. Er dachte er waer in diese Farbe verliebt; dann er sank endlich dahin.
Horrorgeschichte – Die Amalgamfüllung Teil 1
Die Amalgamfüllung Teil 1
'Hört auf, niemand erw-w-wacht und ich fühle mich nicht w-w-wohl hier,' beklagte fluesterend ein Junge mit schwarzer Haar und einem Unterbiss, der leider nicht total ausreicht, von der Lücke zwischen seinen Zahnen abzulenken.
'B-bitte lass uns...'
'Schweig du Baby oder wir verlassen dich und du kannst hier mit den..mit den...Dingen bleiben', erwiderte ein andere mit großen funkelnden Augen, die hell Türkis im Mondlicht erscheinen Der Unterbiss wird groesser als eine der unteren Zähne auf die Lippe biss, aber kein Geräusche entwichen mehr dem Mund. Die Dritte blieb schweigend, ein Hand rastend auf der rechten Hüfte über einem hellroten Rock, der linke Fuß klopfend, und die Miene kalt. Es war als ob das Gesicht etwas teuflisches unterdrückt, dachte der mit dem Unterbiss widerwillig.
'Ich hab eine Idee' kreischt er mit erneuter Hoffnung. 'Wir laufen so schnell wie möglich gleich nach Hause, trinken w-w-warmes Milch und essen Kekse! Mein Vater bemerkt nichts, und morgen früh kommen w-w-wir zurück..'
Endlich konnte die Dritte nicht mehr warten. Die Stimme war laut, schrill, und klar. 'Wenn du nach Hause gehst, bevor Morgenlicht uns gruesst, wirst du unser Opfer sein. Ich hab es schon getrauemt. Weißt du was es bedeutet, ein Opfer zu sein?' fuhr die Stimme fort. Sie grinste teuflisch und ihre graue Augen glühten Sie fing an zu lächeln und legte den Kopf in den Nacken, fast selig.
Die Unterlippe des Ersten begann zu zittern.
'Nicht lustig! Du v-v-verarschst mich!' schrie er. Tränen glitzerten in den Ecken seiner Augen. Der zweite, der mit den turkisen Augen, schaute hin und her, bevor er entschied wem er seine permanent Allianz zusichern würde
'Haha. Wenn die Gespenster dich heute Nacht nicht töten, werden sie es jedenfalls bald tun. HAHA,' sagte der zweite lächelnd Die zwei lächelten zusammen, mit Köpfen in Nacken und Augen glühend.
Plötzlich gab es einen stöhnenden Schrei. Alle drei waren stumm, der Scherz nicht mehr so lustig. Sie schauten in allen Richtungen in der Dunkelheit.
Plötzlich stand die Dritte, Anna, auf. 'Was??? Sie wollen...ahhhha' flüsterte sie unhörbar Ihre Haar flatterte wie die Schatten der Nacht, die sie Kinder überall umgaben. Das Mädchen schaute dem mit dem Unterbiss neugierig an.
Sie saßen in einem Friedhof um 2 Uhr morgens, von Grabsteine umgegeben unter das Lichts eines vollen Monds. Drei Kumuluswolken waren zu sehen über die hügelige Landschaft. Ein Moment lang gab es keine Bewegung. Die Luft wird kalter, eisiger.
Der erste könnte seine Aufregung nicht mehr verbergen, und, ohne ein Wort zu sagen oder zu wissen warum , begann zu laufen schneller als je zuvor in seinem Leben. Die Sandalen flatterten und er macht die Knöpfe auf seinem weißen Bluse auf. Er hasste seine Sandalen, sie waren grün mit weißen Schildkröten die kreischten wie Kühe als er lief. Er hatte sie nur getragen, weil als die drei hinausschlichen, war er nicht imstande hinauf und dann die Treppe hinab zu krabbeln, bevor sie aus dem Fenster gingen.
Es gelang ihm, sein Haus zu erreichen und durch das geöffnete Fenster herauszuschauen. Plötzlich hörte er die Schrei von dem Friedhof, aber noch lauter. Seine bleiche Haut wurde Alabaster, und er machte sein Fenster schnell zu. Seufzend, entschied er ohne seine Milch und Kekse ins Bett zu liegen. Seine neue Amalgamfüllung schmerzte, fast so aufgeregt als sein rastender Herzschlag. Er dachte an den Zahnarzttisch..... Beim Gedank stöhne er und glitt gleichzeitig in Schlaf.
'Hört auf, niemand erw-w-wacht und ich fühle mich nicht w-w-wohl hier,' beklagte fluesterend ein Junge mit schwarzer Haar und einem Unterbiss, der leider nicht total ausreicht, von der Lücke zwischen seinen Zahnen abzulenken.
'B-bitte lass uns...'
'Schweig du Baby oder wir verlassen dich und du kannst hier mit den..mit den...Dingen bleiben', erwiderte ein andere mit großen funkelnden Augen, die hell Türkis im Mondlicht erscheinen Der Unterbiss wird groesser als eine der unteren Zähne auf die Lippe biss, aber kein Geräusche entwichen mehr dem Mund. Die Dritte blieb schweigend, ein Hand rastend auf der rechten Hüfte über einem hellroten Rock, der linke Fuß klopfend, und die Miene kalt. Es war als ob das Gesicht etwas teuflisches unterdrückt, dachte der mit dem Unterbiss widerwillig.
'Ich hab eine Idee' kreischt er mit erneuter Hoffnung. 'Wir laufen so schnell wie möglich gleich nach Hause, trinken w-w-warmes Milch und essen Kekse! Mein Vater bemerkt nichts, und morgen früh kommen w-w-wir zurück..'
Endlich konnte die Dritte nicht mehr warten. Die Stimme war laut, schrill, und klar. 'Wenn du nach Hause gehst, bevor Morgenlicht uns gruesst, wirst du unser Opfer sein. Ich hab es schon getrauemt. Weißt du was es bedeutet, ein Opfer zu sein?' fuhr die Stimme fort. Sie grinste teuflisch und ihre graue Augen glühten Sie fing an zu lächeln und legte den Kopf in den Nacken, fast selig.
Die Unterlippe des Ersten begann zu zittern.
'Nicht lustig! Du v-v-verarschst mich!' schrie er. Tränen glitzerten in den Ecken seiner Augen. Der zweite, der mit den turkisen Augen, schaute hin und her, bevor er entschied wem er seine permanent Allianz zusichern würde
'Haha. Wenn die Gespenster dich heute Nacht nicht töten, werden sie es jedenfalls bald tun. HAHA,' sagte der zweite lächelnd Die zwei lächelten zusammen, mit Köpfen in Nacken und Augen glühend.
Plötzlich gab es einen stöhnenden Schrei. Alle drei waren stumm, der Scherz nicht mehr so lustig. Sie schauten in allen Richtungen in der Dunkelheit.
Plötzlich stand die Dritte, Anna, auf. 'Was??? Sie wollen...ahhhha' flüsterte sie unhörbar Ihre Haar flatterte wie die Schatten der Nacht, die sie Kinder überall umgaben. Das Mädchen schaute dem mit dem Unterbiss neugierig an.
Sie saßen in einem Friedhof um 2 Uhr morgens, von Grabsteine umgegeben unter das Lichts eines vollen Monds. Drei Kumuluswolken waren zu sehen über die hügelige Landschaft. Ein Moment lang gab es keine Bewegung. Die Luft wird kalter, eisiger.
Der erste könnte seine Aufregung nicht mehr verbergen, und, ohne ein Wort zu sagen oder zu wissen warum , begann zu laufen schneller als je zuvor in seinem Leben. Die Sandalen flatterten und er macht die Knöpfe auf seinem weißen Bluse auf. Er hasste seine Sandalen, sie waren grün mit weißen Schildkröten die kreischten wie Kühe als er lief. Er hatte sie nur getragen, weil als die drei hinausschlichen, war er nicht imstande hinauf und dann die Treppe hinab zu krabbeln, bevor sie aus dem Fenster gingen.
Es gelang ihm, sein Haus zu erreichen und durch das geöffnete Fenster herauszuschauen. Plötzlich hörte er die Schrei von dem Friedhof, aber noch lauter. Seine bleiche Haut wurde Alabaster, und er machte sein Fenster schnell zu. Seufzend, entschied er ohne seine Milch und Kekse ins Bett zu liegen. Seine neue Amalgamfüllung schmerzte, fast so aufgeregt als sein rastender Herzschlag. Er dachte an den Zahnarzttisch..... Beim Gedank stöhne er und glitt gleichzeitig in Schlaf.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
The Pond Speaks - The Sonnet
The Pond Speaks
'They say even great rivers shall run dry
That every night, more stars appear to fall
But bright as crystals, they really just fly
Like droplets leaping from a waterfall'
I heard the pond whisper out through crackle
'The blue planets burn white like fireflies
All is illuminate, a spectacle
Though none but my eye waits watching, descries'
On it ran! 'Clouds are mirrors of the sea
And mountains are hollows we cut through air
Gusts, like eclipses, I shoot blindingly
For without me - no other would be there
Before people die their shadow is drawn
And before they die – they're already gone.'
'They say even great rivers shall run dry
That every night, more stars appear to fall
But bright as crystals, they really just fly
Like droplets leaping from a waterfall'
I heard the pond whisper out through crackle
'The blue planets burn white like fireflies
All is illuminate, a spectacle
Though none but my eye waits watching, descries'
On it ran! 'Clouds are mirrors of the sea
And mountains are hollows we cut through air
Gusts, like eclipses, I shoot blindingly
For without me - no other would be there
Before people die their shadow is drawn
And before they die – they're already gone.'
What the Toad Taught Me - The Sonnet
What the Toad Taught Me
'A dialogue, if held unescorted,'
Said the tongue of the toad slipping spryly
'Is like a murder never reported
The body is missing, yet hung highly.'
'Never know' said the toad, 'who you've haunted
It's better not to see such a cascade
Here you are with me, when all I wanted
Was to croak of sorrow and wade...and wade.'
'Once - “I've been shot” declared my heart sprightly'
He declared luminous a-jump midair
'I procured my revenge - as was rightly!
Though I lost my love, I do not despair'
The gold chest expanded as if to warn...
Before I could run – breathe! All was forlorn.
'A dialogue, if held unescorted,'
Said the tongue of the toad slipping spryly
'Is like a murder never reported
The body is missing, yet hung highly.'
'Never know' said the toad, 'who you've haunted
It's better not to see such a cascade
Here you are with me, when all I wanted
Was to croak of sorrow and wade...and wade.'
'Once - “I've been shot” declared my heart sprightly'
He declared luminous a-jump midair
'I procured my revenge - as was rightly!
Though I lost my love, I do not despair'
The gold chest expanded as if to warn...
Before I could run – breathe! All was forlorn.
The Story of Hat and a Cat
One day Hat was walking along the street
He noticed a kitten under his feet
'Come with me, I'll find you something to eat
Oh no need to purr, it will be my treat'
He said to the cat, whose eyes gaped at him
At the human pursuing a strange whim
Hat lightly smiled and patted a limb
The cat arches its neck, still proper and prim
At my place there's a gross tribe of mice
Causing a ruckus, like a head of lice
I've got some milk, but if that won't suffice
You're welcome to hunt, indeed it'd be nice
The cat shook it's head and ruffled its fur
Of what Hat meant, it really was not sure
But if figured, well why not give a purr
The pot was swirling, no need for a stir
Back at home, Hat blanketed a basket
Put the cat in it, he did not ask it
The cat stared in fear, like it was a casket
But it did not need to try and mask it
Hat didn't notice, indeed he was thrilled
Thinking of the life he and cat would build
A bowl was brought and with milk it was filled
So gently he fed cat, not a drop spilled
Cat thought alright, I guess I'll take a nap
As Hat caressed it on top of his lap
A gray rat watched from out the wall's gap
Eyeing cat with more hate than a mouse trap!
And so they lived for a year...
One day Hat was gone, Cat wanted to hunt
Cat sharpened the blue nails that had grown blunt
Stuck one in the rat hole, just as a punt
Heard nothing, not even a tiny grunt
Cat was petite and crouched down through the hole
Began to burrow in just like a mole
Cat suddenly began to slide and rol1
Gave out a shriek, no one heard, not a soul
The clever ugly mice had fooled the cat
She shot through to the garbage just like that
Huffing and puffing, hating every rat
Looked up at home from away where she splat
Hat came home but Cat was no longer there
A hand ran over the head without hair
He was confused and started to dispair
Where could Cat be? Not here so anywhere!
The garbage truck had driven cat away
Now she was lost, far out in city fray
And how could she get back, what was the way?
Well that's in part two, right now I can't say
II
Poor Hat was left alone to tears of grief
Trying to figure out who was the thief
Hat was stunned, hurt and oh! in disbelief
Only finding Cat could bring him relief
At once he set out to seek and to search
Even looking thru old piers in a church
Climbing the branches of a great birch
But he found no trace for all his research
Cat meanwhile had escaped the garbage
Limped back to the city over a bridge
It's a dull story so I'll now abridge
Cat was very scared, more than just a smidge
She walked along the street, once again alone
Letting a whimper, even a moan
She sat down to ponder atop a stone
When up came a girl, to Cat yet unknown
'Are you alone, oh you poor little thing
You can come with me, I don't bite or sting'
Cat started, mesmorized, by her shiny ring
And jumped into her arms with a light spring
Cat was thinking of Hat, but where was he?
This girl could help her find him, well, maybe..
The poor cat was worried the girl could see
'I bet she belongs to a family.'
'I'm sure you belong to someone nearby
I'll help you find them, no more need to cry'
The girl made posters and hung them all high
She didn't want it to work, but she'd try
Hat as well had made Cat a flier
But no response, it was looking dire
He wouldn't give up, wouldn't retire
Whatever he did he had to find her
Cat for her part was looking all around
She recognized nothing, no sight or sound
Began to fear Hat would never be found
To live without Hat? She'd rather be drowned
One day the girl went to visit a friend
To stay the afternoon she did intend
Would she have brought Cat if she knew the end?
On the street, Cat began to comprehend
It was the same street where Hat had found her
She knew where she was, without deter
Ran as fast as she could on paw transfer
The girl followed Cat, it was all a blur
Cat scratched on Hat's door, he opened it
She jumped in his arms and his face uplit
Though he had a new cat, a tiny brit
He loved Cat much more, he had to admit
The girl agreed to take the other one
That was better than for her to have none
However this story is far from done
Not all forgive when you give show them shun...
Labels:
cat,
children's story,
hat,
literature,
poem,
poetry,
rhyme
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