Poetry of Words

This entry is for What Poetry Means to Me at Poets Who Blog and Monday Poetry Train.

dark letters lay bare on white sheets of yesteryear
intertwine in each other's words
groups of clouds dance in the blue
what creatures create this view
of love and pain in the wide open sky

heated words no longer staid
they crash your mind
they crash your body
losing their emotional tail
without ever leaving home

whether in despair or bliss
whether in rain or shine
thoughts fall like dandelions in the slow winds of summer
a touch, a feel
all will be consume by one and all

write them down
before they are forgotten
write them down
before they fade away
write them down now

In the ravine of sleep

This entry is for Monday Mural at Poefusion.


Image by guavaguavalamp from Photobucket.

in the ravine of sleep
oceans of eyes dripping tears
down a deserted beach

she walks alone
drench in earth's water
but she takes delight in the cloudburst

a moment of peace
suddenly disappears
into the darkness of a car

it rolls over onto its tummy
crashing into a coconut tree
she slips out in a haze

in the open darkness
she calls to him, "where are you?"
its reply - a fading echo

she turns to see him still inside the dark hood
his eyes spilling over with pain
she reach out her hands to him

for a moment she holds his hand in hers
darkness enfolds her eyes
she can hear herself screaming his name into the night

she opens her eyes to the lights
of the sun filtering through the shade
alone, she falls back to bed

she turns to the empty space beside her
spreads her fingers on the cold sheets, feeling no presence
and knew he was really gone

New Year

This entry is for Mad Kane's Limerick and Haiku Prompt. This week's theme: wine and spirits or the New Year or, if you prefer, both.

This is also for Sunday Scribblings: New or New Year.

new year resolution
to do nothing, sleep through time
and wait for nothing

------------------------

this year's new year resolution
to stop making new resolution
better to sit and whine
drinking spirits and wine
than end up making retribution

Letter from Isabelle 10

This entry is for Sunday Scribblings: Now & Then. This will be the last part to this story. Thank you for reading.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9

Date: December 31, 2007
Dear L,

All our lives were spent on these trains and yet I never thought we would see each other again here. Just riding trains - not to go anywhere in particular but to just be there, moving along - each stop never a destination but another passing exit. We used to chased each other through the trains, running through each car like animals that have just escaped the zoo and now freed to roam the streets. Sometimes you would make crazy faces at people and freak them out just a little. I would follow but I could never be as daring as you. I could never yell at people for no reason. But you - you were brave and wild - always creating chaos when there were none. I have always admired your adventurous streak. It was always the one trait that I wished I had. Considering everything scares me, I guess you kept me sane and made me brave when I wasn't.

It was just you and me. Our parents couldn't understand. They never had the same bond with their siblings. I guess that's why they chose to keep a certain distance between us and them.

Now riding the train wasn't the same anymore. I couldn't bring myself to run through any trains or jump on the seats or make animal noises. The quiet spaces between the stops weren't as peaceful as it used to be. There were always too much noise. Noise of the outside, noise of the inside. Inside my head images and sounds overfilled every space leaving no room for new thoughts.

Yesterday I was riding the train with Joy sitting next me to my right, my vision suddenly became crystal clear. There she was - Joy - my friend, my neighbor, next to me in her pink outfit reading a romance novel. On her handbag hang a silver cigarette lighter with the "L" initial on a chain. She was an odd image in her pink suit, her legs in black stocking, her hands with their long pink nails, her skin, a dark tan. I can clearly see the faded scar on her left cheek, covered in makeup but still very visible. Her ultra blond wig shinning in the late afternoon sun creating a certain glow around her.

I looked away for a moment to see if anyone else was looking at us. But no one was. The train was half empty filled only with tired people sitting by themselves. I thought it must be my imagination but she was real, sitting next to me reading her novel. Am I dreaming and not know it? Was it my wishful thinking that set up this vision?

I rubbed my eyes to clear them. I can smell the scent of Chanel NO. 5. I touched her arm. Her head lifted up from her novel. Her dark blue eyes covered in pink eye shadow, looked straight at me. I knew then that it was you, L. It was really you! Her lips spread into a smile knowing what I was thinking. I wanted to say something silly, something to justify that moment. We said no words to each other as the train kept moving. But knew it was okay now. We won't have to miss each other now. You placed your hand over mine, its warm touch kept me in that moment.

My eyes searched yours, looking for the person I had grew up with, the person that I have always knew. He was there but now in a different shell. I couldn't get over how you looked. Is this person in front of me really my brother? Had my vision been good, would I have known if it was you? Would I even guess that this could be you? Was it fate that I couldn't see you before but I can because I have finally accepted you the way you are?

All this time and I never even thought you would end up as this new person - Joy - my friend, my neighbor. You told me once but I never actually listen. Now I knew - this was always your intention. This was and is the final you.

"Happiness is but a moment shared with someone you love." That's what you've always said to me and it had always stuck with me. I knew at that moment I was really happy.

I wrote this down so you can understand what that moment meant to me. As you read this, L, please forgive me for not believing in you. As twins, I thought we were never alike but now I knew I was wrong. We were alike, almost like one person separated into two pieces with the same feelings and thoughts that often mirror each other. Sure, there were slight differences but it never occurred to me that you wanted to be like me. I didn't understand then why you wore feminine-like clothes or why you chose to keep your hair long or why you distanced yourself away from me when I got new female friends. Now it's all clear to me.

Whatever had separated us, it didn't matter now. We're together now and we can work things out. Even if Mom and Dad still could not accept the facts.

Now I knew you were always there for me. It was you on that train track and in the ambulance in that pink outfit. It was you that helped me with my laundry and encouraged me to step out of my apartment. It was you that gave me those three gifts. How strange to meet a new person who just happen to be the one you're searching for in the same place that you always knew him to be.

And on a side note, you've managed to set me up with a date for New Year's. The man with the green eyes - I was excited but tried not to show it. I'm still scare to go anywhere but knowing you there when I need you, makes it less terrifying.

Joy, thank you for being you and being my brother or rather sister.

your sister,
Isabelle

Heavy Rain

This entry is for Friday 5 at Poefusion. This week's words are scrivener, distal, parapet, gilt, trace.

the sky poured heavily, indiscriminately
upon the roofs of a scrivener's home
bits of dark woods distal on the edge of the roof, breaking free
falling gently onto the front gilt driveway

dark water seeps through the cracks and into the inner layer of the house
droplets of water fell all around him
but he kept tapping on his laptop
in the bright lights of a single yellow lampshade

a thumping sound pricked his eager mind
he listened, furrowing his brows
he waited until the sound stopped
then he turned back to his laptop, relieved by the silence

a sudden thunderous roar sent shivers down his back
he looked up to see his roof ripped and blew up into the maddening sky
he screamed, jumped off his chair and ran outside with his laptop
he gazed at his house through his rain-stained glasses

the rain dispersed slowly
any trace of his home was covered under the piles of crumbled mess
surrounded by the rows of leftover parapet wall
he hung on tightly to his laptop and smiled, at least he got to finished his novel

Letter from Isabelle 9

This entry is for Fiction Friday. The Challenge: Your adult character just got a guitar for Christmas -- a gift very out of character. What changes, if any, does this cause in her life or personality? (You may adjust the instrument if a guitar would be out of place or time in your story.)

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About Fiction Friday

Part 1
Part 2
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Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8

Date: December 27, 2007
Dear L,

One of the Christmas gift from Joy were piano lessons. I've never been good at learning instruments but somehow the idea of learning to play the piano was so intriguing that I had to try it. L, you were always good at learning even without any teaching. I remembered how I had envied you when you learned to play the piano in just two weeks. Of cause I was given the chance to take lessons but I just could not bring myself to go - how can I ever play the same way as you?

I can now almost see everything clearly enough to go outside by myself. Yesterday was my first lesson. I decided to walk the few blocks to Mrs. Winter's place by myself. Joy had showed me how to get there a few days ago.

I felt like I was following your every step. Here in the dark street, I can see what's ahead of me - lights, cars, trees, buildings but no, you were not there. Not next to me, not walking beside me. Not there blocking the chilly wind from touching my face, not there to tighten my hat, not there to stop me from crossing the street blindly before a car stop dead in front of me with the owner cursing me out while you scream at them for being crappy drivers.

You were not there. I wanted to cry but my eyes, they just refocused on the street lights. I could not feel any tears coming or anything stuck in my throat. Just a bit of loneliness that seem to settled around me as I walked the streets. My legs wasn't completely healed so I had to walk with a cane. I moved slowly along the sidewalk, hoping not to fall. But of cause I did. I fell against a man who fell down along with me. I guess I must have tripped him with my cane.

I apologized endlessly, just babbling away words. He helped me to my feet and wanted to know if he can help me. I can smell the scent of fresh soap and felt a familiarity with him. I know I must have seen him before but couldn't decide where. His face was slightly blurry. His voice was calm and soothing. I told him I was fine and that I have done this hundreds of times. He laughed lightly as if delighted by my independence. I tried to smile but I knew I wasn't smiling at all.

I apologize again and walked away, trying to go fast but was unsuccessfully. He followed me, placed his hand on my shoulder, saying he remembered me from the train. I can feel the warmth from his hand on my shoulder. I said "What train?" Then he said,"The one where you fell onto the tracks? Don't you remember?"

I stopped walking, gripping my cane tightly in my hand. I remembered - the man with the green eyes. I remembered his face - the way he looked at me. I have seen him when the old man died on the train and often afterward, riding in the same car. He was always only a few steps away, always polite. If he looks my way, I would quickly turn away. But his green eyes were ingrained in my mind. In those rides, I often daydreamed about speaking to him, even getting to know him but those were just wishful thinking.

I have never felt so awkward around anyone before but this man kept my heart jumping so fast I could barely hear myself think. I wanted to make an excuse, to escape but my mind clear itself out as if it didn't want me to think.

I said thank you and rushed away. I heard him calling me to stop but I kept on going. At Mrs. Winter's place, I felt calmer. The cool touch of the piano keys kept my mind at ease. I can see the keys but they weren't clear. I knew my hand were shaking. It felt strange being the only student but Mrs. Winter was so pleasant and her voice was delicate and calming. It was awkward at first, but I managed to learned the keys but reading the music was not something I can do but Mrs. Winter told me I don't need to read the music to play it. She was very patient with me.

After the lesson, I felt I had accomplished something worthwhile. I knew I would not be an expert at it but just learning and going through the process is enough for me. How I wished you could have seen me, sitting there, my fingers on the keys. You would be proud that I didn't run away when it got so frustrating. Now I have something to look forward to each day.

I often wondered where you are, if you are thinking of me, if...L, if you're out there, I hope you are well. I know I keep going around in circles but I am trying to stop. I can't always break free when the past kept pushing me in that direction but I will try. You've always said, "Forget what had already happened, focus only on what's in front of you." I'm trying. Every day, I am trying.

Isabelle

Read Part 10 (last part) here.

Letter from Isabelle 8

This entry is for 3WW. This week's words are Curious, Eventually, Shower.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

Date: December 26, 2007
Dear L,

Memories, they seem so distance, so far out of reach. I longed for their return but knew in the end, they would bring pain and devastation to my life once again. Each day, more of them flood their way into my mind.

It's nearing the end of the year and I have not decide what to do. I wasn't in a rush to get back to my old life and yet they kept resurfacing with each hour that passed.

I was never the curious type and yet now small things can trigger a longing for new curiosity that I never had before. I'm sure eventually the feeling of newness will pass but for now everything's fill with surprises.

My vision's still a blur but getting better. Each day when I open my eyes in the morning, I would see something clearer, something familiar. Still I often have to feel my way around my apartment.

My neighbor, Joy, showered me with presents yesterday. She knocked on my door knowing I wouldn't answer unless it was urgent. She screamed "Isy, I hurt myself! Please come out and help me!"

I didn't hesitated, I fumbled my way to the door and opened it with my hands outstretched. Joy laughed and placed three presents into my arms - one for each time that I had stepped outside my door.

I wanted to get mad at her but her pleasant laughter and infectious joy always makes me want to smile. She invited me over for Christmas dinner and even though I didn't want to accept, I knew she would coax me into it.

After our Christmas dinner - chicken and broccoli with white rice and diet coke - Joy persuaded me to go take a walk outside. I refused at first saying it was too cold. But my excuses couldn't stop Joy. She knew I was afraid to go outside of my apartment. The fear of being trample by a car or a person filled my head.

It wasn't snowing but the air was bitter cold. With my cane in one hand and my other hand on Joy's arm, I walked for the first time, outside my apartment. The nerves in my stomach kept jumping around. I was afraid but with Joy there, somehow the fear subsided. We walked slowly but steadily down the cold streets. I can smell pizza and hot chocolate but I can't see the beautiful decorations. Joy described them to me. She was very talented in articulating the details of everything around us.

I felt a kinship with Joy. Everything she does and said seem so familiar and yet I cannot pinpoint where I have known her. Or if I had known her. I tried to tell myself that Joy is not my brother, even if everything about her - the way she shielded me from the cold, the way she straighten my hat before we went outside, the way she smell - all familiar things to me. I tried not to overbore her with memories of you. It's bad enough that I kept comparing her to you.

All this time searching for you, I've forgotten myself. I've forgotten that I have a life, that I need to live with or without you. In my silly state of mind I had thought maybe I would have another chance with you, L. But now I could not hope to see you again. Each day, more of you disappear and more of me reappear. I cannot go on like this - forever reminding myself of you, forever dreaming that you would show up at my door and hold me in your arms and tell me you're still there. I can't do that to myself anymore. I need to move on. Joy reminded me I can still start over. It's not an end but a beginning. I know I will forget you eventually but inside, I know you are never gone.

That night I had an odd dream about my accident. But it wasn't a dream but a memory. At least in my mind, it felt like a memory.

In it, I was laying on the train tracks. Red liquid had covered my eyes, I can only see partially. A man - his eyes full of concern, a circle of green, was staring down at me. He was telling me not to move. He seem to be checking me out. I felt a sharp pain in my head. I reached for my head but he told me not to. He wiped the liquid from my eyes with something soft. I can see his face, almost smiling at me. He told me to keep my eyes open. "Stay awake!" he shouted. I tried but I wanted so much to close them but the man kept shouting at me, keeping me awake. Everything looked like it has a soft edge to them. His creamy face, a calm ocean of softness, stayed vivid.

A lady in pink who reminded me of Joy, held my hand while the man was putting pressure on my head with his warm hand. I didn't feel any pain but the strong urge to sleep kept tugging at me. Soon I was carried off the tracks and onto a stretcher. I can see the sky becoming dark and all I can see were shapes, blurry images. They gathered around me in the ambulance.

But the lady in pink seem to be smiling at me through the dark shadows. "You can sleep now," she said softly as my eyes began to close. I felt a gentle kiss on my forehead.

I woke up to the sounds of the city. It never sounded so loud as this morning. The cold air reminded me it's still winter. I wrapped the sheets around me, laid on my side and looked out the window at the dark, blurry sky. I smiled knowing today was the day to start over. Things aren't as gloomy as it use to be. I hope someday I might just be myself again. Maybe when I finally wake up from all of this, I would realize I was not alone.

Isabelle

Read Part 9 here.

Just Bloom

This entry is for Writers Island: Earth.



one tiny seed
sprang from the underground
covered under the bitter cold of snow
burnt by the heat of summer
just waiting to bloom

under the heavy sky of clouds
under the shade of another
it continued
slowly but steadily
still waiting to bloom

small as it was
it stuck in its place
neglected, forgotten
covered by new earth
it waited to bloom nevertheless

years later
out it came
bit by bit
stretching its wings high into the sky
catching the sun
with its colorful leaves and long arms

a child sat with his legs swinging
upon the branches
of this grand tree
that grew
out of a tiny moment of life

Giving

This entry is for One Deep Breath. The prompt is: Giving.

everything you are
seep with tender emotions
spread among us like

wildfire of life
small gestures of warmth
makes our heart smile

drench your mind in this
moment of real happiness
give only yourself

Mist of your dreams

This entry is for Monday Mural at Poefusion. Image by by Michelle Johnson.


if you leave
go west
in the direction of the wind
you will find

a new path of life
for you
a new town
to seek new purpose

just go
don't look back
see with your eyes close
in the mist of your dreams

hands hold tight
to the nights and days
of new memories and new desires
for someday, you will find

your heart
laying within yourself
night after night
new tears upon your shoulder

a reminder
you are love
here, there
and everywhere

don't wait
just go
to a new town
to a new purpose

don't look back
your answers are waiting
where wild flowers grow
west is where your heart should go

go now
there is no need to hesitate
go now, go west
you will find yourself there

Pieces of you

This entry is for Monday Poetry Train.

you
made of soft substance
fell so hard
but landed so subtlety
upon my heart

you
reached deep inside me
to find the chaos
the messy parts of my myself
believing it to be grand

you
loved without a thought
leaving your heart to be crush
into million bits of confetti
falling like teardrops from heaven

you
jumped at the chance to be free
running as far as you can
blocking out the pain
that burned into your insides

you
sought new words to defined yourself
taking only the ones that suited you
writing them down in your notebook
savoring the language of life

you
sang until your lungs froze
words of hope and love
your voice ever so softly
raised above the others

you
rearranged your mind
to fitted into my mine
not before you told me it's alright to fail
in this fight or in this life

you
made yourself whole
in this halfhearted world
fighting the losing battle
with your guts fully exposed

you
slaved all your life in your anguished mind
no control of your body
no control of who you are
finally falling to the end

you
left a large hole in my small heart
no returning to me, you said
you were gone from this world
but not from my thoughts

Letter from Isabelle 7

This entry is for Sunday Scribblings: Holiday Memories.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6


Date: December 15, 2007
Dear L,

Memories came in bits and pieces - just swimming in my mind - all those holidays that we used to shared, all the presents that we were given, all the tidbits of what used to be my happy life - unglued in front of me. Images of you and me opening our presents in front of the huge Christmas tree that Dad insisted on getting each Christmas even though it scratches the ceiling.

I recalled the Christmas where you declared you wanted to be an actor. We were surrounded by close relatives during what to be a very long dinner. We had just turned twenty-one that very week. You had too much white wine. You draped yourself with the white table cloth and started reciting Shakespeare, while dancing around the room. We all had a good laugh. They all thought you were joking but I knew you weren't.

Later that night, you told Mom and Dad about your plans to quit college and start your acting career. Their faces folded into a stern, but concern look. You, Mom, Dad were in the living room while I was near the kitchen door peering through the small opening. I can hear your voices - rising and falling. I can hear your voice shaking and crying. I listened as I grabbed plates and silverware and placed them into the dish washer. I wanted to go in there and tell them to let you go but I couldn't. I wanted you to stay and the thought of you so far away made me stayed in the kitchen.

After the fight, you told me all about it. I wanted to comfort you but I couldn't bring myself to. That was when I threw that vase at you that placed a large scar on your left cheek. You walked out of the house and toward the playground where we used to play as kids.

I knew you were there. I walked there in the cold with my winter coat and my wool hat. I sat down on the swing next to you. We had always wondered why the playground was always opened. You said it was so kids can have a place to run away to.

I can see the blood on your cheek in the dull streetlight. You looked at me with your beautiful blue eyes full of tears. I couldn't help it as tears spilled out of my eyes and you stood up and pushed me in the swing like we did when we were kids. We said nothing but I knew you had already forgiven me.

You gave me a hug before we left the playground. You were a head taller than me. My head rested on your shoulder. I can smell the scent of pine trees from when you helped Dad carried the Christmas tree home. I felt safe in your arms. Then you gave me my Christmas present - a silver angel made from wires, hanging on a silver chain. You showed me the one you're wearing around your neck. You handmade them just for us - two unique angels. You said we'll be each other's guardian angel. You kissed the top of my head and told me you won't leave without saying goodbye. We walked home holding hands, like two kids going to school.

Of cause, you did leave without saying goodbye. The very next day after another big fight with Mom and Dad. I was at the library doing research. When I came home, you were gone. I don't think I cried. I locked myself in my door until the semester started again.

It was always as if Mom and Dad didn't want us to change, to grow up. They wanted us to stay the same - the same sweet Isy and the same lovable Leo. But that's not how we turned out. Our final Christmas dinner together with Mom and Dad occurred when we were sixteen. They had decided or they had us agreed that it was best we don't have any Christmas dinners or wasted time buying presents for each other. I thought that was the end of our closeness - our beginning separation from Mom and Dad. It seem we were not the only ones that were changing. They too, seem rather reluctant to admit that they didn't like their children as much as they used to.

I supposed we disappointed them by following in their footsteps as doctors or lawyers - both professors that Mom and Dad's family were all in. I didn't turned out to be the genius lawyer that they wanted and you, Leo, didn't turned into the family doctor or the heart surgeon that Dad was. I knew you wanted to be an actor and I, well, I couldn't decide. I can't seem to make a decision and stick to it. I had always thought you would help me to decide but instead you've left me alone to decide on my own.

We went to separate colleges and that had always devastated me. We were already separating even before college. I thought at least we would see each during breaks but you had other plans. You joined an actors' theater and didn't have any time for me. I had settled on two majors but knew in the end, I had forced myself into making those decisions. I have never blamed you for my indecision. I supposed I had opened myself to more wounds that won't heal.

College life didn't suited me. I often stayed in my dorm for weeks and the thought of ever completing anything was so far from my mind. Still I had managed to finished college, get a job and a place of my own. While you moved to Los Angeles to continued your acting career. You weren't there at my graduation. I felt alone even in Mom and Dad's presence.

Two weeks later, I received letters from you but they seem so impersonal, so unlike you. After a while, they didn't come. The last one had said you moved back to New York, our hometown which I had always stayed. I never wanted to see the world, it was always you. I thought you would contact me but there was no letter or phone calls from you. Mom and Dad told me to forget about you. But I couldn't, how could I? Your twin sister with whom you had shared so many secrets and dreams? So many late nights we stayed up late just talking. I wished I had paid more attention to you. I guess I was in my own selfish world and couldn't see you as you were.

My vision is getting better now. Bright lights I can see but faces, they are still dark and blurry. I didn't dare go outside unless I had to. Seeing the world in the dark - night or day - seem scary. Dr. R told me it would take another month or two for my sight to completely return. His voice sounded so reassuring but it didn't make me feel any less pessimistic.

There's a new tenant across from me - a very nice lady with a somewhat heavy voice but very sweet. I couldn't see her face so I have no idea what she looked like. She often helped me with my laundry which seem to be the only thing I wanted to do. Fresh laundry had always brought back memories of our summers together. Anyway, this lady, called Joy, reminded me of you. I don't know what it is - just her presence brought some comfort to me, like you used to.



I held in my hand, the silver angel, your last Christmas gift to me, which I always wear around my neck. I knew, I hope, that you were watching over me. I leave you with your favorite song, Time After Time, it seem to summed up my mood this year. Here's hoping you are having a joyful holiday wherever you are. Maybe one day we'll find each other.

lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,
and think of you
caught up in circles
confusion is nothing new
flashback, warm nights
almost left behind
suitcases of memories,
time after

sometimes you picture me
I'm walking too far ahead
you're calling to me, I can't hear what you've said
then you say, go slow
I fall behind
the second hand unwinds

if you're lost you can look and you will find me
time after time
if you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
time after time

after my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray
watching through windows you're wondering if I'm OK
secrets stolen from deep inside
the drum beats out of time

if you're lost you can look and you will find me
time after time
if you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
time after time

you said go slow
I fall behind
the second hand unwinds

if you're lost you can look and you will find me
time after time
if you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
time after time

time after time...

Isabelle


Read part 8 here.

Love

This entry is for Mad Kane's Limerick and Haiku Prompt 3. This week's theme: love at first sight or, if you prefer, simply love.



it came fast and slow
first sight of love in your eyes
appeared without thought

Cold Comfort

This entry is for Friday 5 at Poefusion. This week's words are sanitary, fuselage, ache, paste, pardon. The Theme: It's Unlike Me.

frowning in my own existence
copy and paste these words until they fit into this small space

of body that doesn't cover me like the fuselage of an aircraft
leaving me bare to any emotions that ache in me

pardon me for wanting to
tuck this loneliness into an envelope and mail it to the world

there's no sanitary safe haven to run to
when germs fall like snowflakes upon my sheer protection of will

it's unlike me to fear sneezing and coughing faces
riding this train has cause me to hide deep inside my coat collars

the crowding of this ride is too much
leave now, run to the exit, quick!

outside the air is too cold
wishing for a warm blanket of cold medicine

shot them into my arms and leave me be
for I cannot stand this any longer!

Reverie

Fiction Friday: This Week’s Challenge: What happens when your character is dragged to a Solstice celebration?
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About Fiction Friday


So there I was at another party dragged to by my friend, Eric, who probably needs to get out more than me. It was a friend of a friend of a friend's party. Who knows how many friends, knowing Eric, it could be tons. I'm not much into celebrating this year but it was the first party before the Christmas season rolls around and I really didn't feel like staying home alone.

"Hi," a skinny redhead holding a tan glass of beer said to me. She was clearly drunk with her eyes wandering back and forth. She smiled, then sip from her cup, then smiled again. I said hello and then she fell to the ground. I caught her by the arm but she fell down anyway. All that disappeared when I saw her.

There, among the drunken crowd was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. With her dark closed cropped hair, skin as pale as snow, and eyes like the moon, she was like a dream. Wearing a black dress that was clearly made to fit her body, she walked up to me and asked me to dance. I could only nodded my head as she led me to the dance floor.

Before I knew what was happening, I was holding her gently with one hand on her back and the other grasping her soft creamy, cool hand. She was casually smiling. Up close, her skin glisten like a million stars. There wasn't much talking as the music played. It was perfect - slow jazz filled the air, enclosing us in serenade of sounds.

I swore she looked like some actress who had died many years ago. Her long swan-like neck was bare, shinning in the soft yellow light. She leaned against me as if she had done that all her life. The bare skin of her back felt like silk and I can smell the scent of...of what? I don't know but it was faded, almost like something out of the past. I brushed my lips upon her bare shoulder and can hear her gentle breathing sound.

She kept her head on my shoulder until the music stopped. Then she lifted her head up and kissed me on both cheeks. Her lips felt cool but soft. With a smile and a gentle touch of her hand on my cheek, she said, "Ciao."

I was too numbed to even stopped her as she walked away into the crowd. Before I can snapped out of my reverie, she was far away, a few steps to the outside chill. I ran after her out of the house and into the parking lot but she was gone. I walked around a bit hoping to see her but there was no sight of her or anyone else. The bitter chased me back inside.

Inside I asked Eric if he had seen the girl I was dancing with but he didn't seem to know what I was talking about. I guess he was too drunk to even noticed anything.

Did I imagined her? Was she a dream? There was something strange about her and yet it felt magical. As cheesy as that may sounded, that was the one word that can really described that night.

"Joslin, you're such a fool," I kept telling myself. Why the heck didn't I even ask her name? Was I even awake at the time? Was I too drunk from her intoxicating scent to remember her clearly or maybe I did drink?

Whenever I am near that same place, it always brings up images of her. I can still remembered her face and the scent of her never left me. Images of her always seem to be through a cloud of white smoke, like a faded memory that was mine but at the same time, it felt like it was someone else's.

Her words

Entry for Six Sentences.

She spends her days writing short verses and stories to post on her blog that only a few would read. Each new post brings new words of encouragement and new ways to un-praise herself. She searches for answers but knowing she couldn't find any, keeps her just a few spaces between her and the rest of the world. In her words, she speaks of her loneliness and doubts but left her heart open for interpretations. There are no messages too contrive, too wordy or too emotional for her not to deliver. Lost in the images and links of anonymous bloggers, she wanders but rarely pause long enough to leave her words behind.


Read part 2 here.

A Moment in the Dark

This entry is for Three Word Wednesday. This week's words are clumsy, fire, overlooked.

Over there by the train door, a couple were standing together. The girl was right in front of the guy, casually knitting away while happily conversing with the guy. Her smile was equally matched by his wide grin.

The train was filled to the brim. Any left over spaces were taken by big coats and hats. The train was moving steadily faster with each second causing her to bounced forward now and then against his chest, needles pointing absentmindedly.

Then the train stopped for a moment. Traffic ahead was announced from above. Then the train started moving again, jolting the girl against the guy, still holding her needles. She was not the least bit clumsy as she continued to knit.

The lights blinked a couple of times causing them to wait in the dark. Then the lights came back on. A few seconds later, they were in complete darkness again. The train had stopped moving. Sounds of mumbling were heard. The girl stopped knitting, waiting for the lights to come back on.

Moving once again, the lights came back on. It was overlooked at first. There was no screaming, no crying, no words, just a blank look across his face. She had fell forward and to the side when the train suddenly stopped. Now she turned to him and saw his eyes all widen, his face all pale. He did not speak, just stared at her with a surprise look frozen in place.

Then there was screaming - the kind that would send anyone running for their lives. But he stayed still. A red liquid had appeared on the ground, falling from the guy where the knife was sticking out. The girl dropped her needles then crumbled to the ground, silent now. All conversations ceased. Nothing but complete dead silence.

Soon the train operator appeared. The curious ones watched moving closer while the others moved farther away with fear on their faces.

The girl kept calling his name as he was tow away by two ambulance guys. Two cops - a older gentleman and a younger woman came by to asked her questions. The girl couldn't speak. Groups of tears kept falling down her cheeks followed by hiccups. Inside the train, cold wind came spreading around her from the open doorway.

Just a few feet away, the girl saw the guy being handcuffed by the older cop. His eyes looked like it was on fire, blood still on his hands. His dark eyes turned to her. He smiled and then look away. She knew him. He was one of her ex-boyfriend - the last one actually. He disappeared from her view as he was led outside the train. The woman cop putted her hand on the girl's shoulder knowing it brought little comfort.

Beauty

This entry is for One Deep Breath. The prompt is: A Kind of Beauty

be an amateur
admire not outer beauty
but layers within

------

there is no beauty
without the inner layer
for others to see

Hope

This entry is for Cafe Writing December Project.

Option One: Pick Three Pick at least three of the following eight words, and write a paragraph, scene, flash-fic, essay, blog entry or poem using them. It’s fine to change tenses, or pluralize if you have to, but please bold the words you choose.

kindle, memory, spark, shattered, effulgent, joyful, softly, glistening

walking among the red roses
cover with light morning dew
she glance up at birds in new flight
spark by the memory of their glistening skin
she smiles softly remembering
spring's sun upon her face
she bath in the glorious warmth
of finding new life
and new hope

Clouds of stardust

This entry is for Monday Poetry Train.


pausing at her window
she glance skyward
up at the clouds of stardust
dreaming of a lost love
wishing to go back in time
to seek the love of the forgotten one

truth no longer exist
only spaces between here and now
every star she sees, she wish upon
every dream she ever dreams, she wish for it to be true

she search inside her dreams
looking for answers that may be bury deep within her

no longer yearning for flight
her heart cease to feel the emotional void
that was locked deep inside
with only but one key to open it

Letter from Isabelle 6

This entry is for Writers Island: This Season.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Date: December 13, 2007
Dear L,

I've been released from the hospital for two days now. Here in my own apartment but unsure what I should be doing. Almost all of my memories had came back but some were still gone, hidden deep inside where I hoped some day they would come back.

I can hear footsteps coming but I didn't know who it was until they spoke. It was Mom and Dad. They have come up from Florida to stay with me. I can hear sadness in their voices as they spoke. Mom especially, her voice shakily with each syllable. I told them I was fine and that they shouldn't have drove all the way here. I said that with the strongest voice I can muster but it came out all shrilly and weak. I was glad for their arrival but they were not a comfort to me. I smiled trying to keep them at ease but it was useless. I know they worry all the time now - about me - their only child. I wanted reminded them they still have a son, L. He is still out there waiting for their acceptance. But the words - they wouldn't come out. I opened my mouth but couldn't say them.

It is still a blur how the whole thing got so dreadful. I can't remember why it was so hard for them, why they could not accept their own son the way he was. I can't even remember the fight when you left. I can remember the scar on your face, so vivid and yet it seem so distance, so far away from me. If only I can reach inside my mind and grab onto you, keeping you with me. But you're still gone, still so far away.

Mom and Dad stayed with me for a couple of days - helping me adjust but I remained calm, trying not to move around too much. Trying to show them I can take care of myself. I have already done so many training classes but still hoped to regain my sight soon. Dr. R is still convinced it will happen. But now I am not so sure. It had only been two weeks and yet I remained the same.

My job as a copywriter for a small magazine didn't seem so important anymore so I decided to quit rather than to have to explain what happen. I had Mom sent in a letter for me and got my things from the office, which wasn't much - just a photo of the family. I guess that was my way of making my stay temporary. I can never have any personal items displaying on my desk where anyone can see them - which can give them an opportunity to talk to me. I guess I distance myself too much now to even make a friend.

I'm typing this on my computer which Dad had helped me set up. I can voice commands into the computer without typing it in. I was glad to be doing something familiar again. Writing this letter helped ease me back into my life. At least the part I can remember. I am reminded that I am indeed a writer - at least I was. I can't remember if I was ever good at it.

Mom and Dad went home to Florida yesterday. I am alone again. I don't even know what I am going to do now. It wasn't that I didn't want them to stay, just that, it was better this way. For me. Their presence makes me uneasy. I heard them fighting during the night when they thought I was sleeping. They were insinuating each other. Their quiet bickering wasn't quiet enough - that was what you used to say to me. I remained still in the dark. Memories came and went but only a few of them stay long enough for me to keep them.

I had a dream or rather a memory of us when we were playing in the snow, spreading our arms to make angels in front of our front yard. Your angel was perfect while mine was slightly wingless. We laid there staring up, watching more snow falling down like teardrops from the sky. We sticked out our tongues and tasted the white drops of winter. I think we were thirteen then. It was and will always be my happiest moment with you.

The winter season has finally settled in along with Christmas. I didn't feel like celebrating or going outside. It was bitter cold even inside my apartment. The heater was turned on but it cannot keep the cold from reaching inside me, into my inner layer of skin that forever seem out of place.

Another Christmas without you and yet, I couldn't bring myself to really think of you as gone. I can't remembered if I ever enjoyed Christmas or if I did anything that made me happy. I still have all the presents that I have brought you, all wrapped but never opened, hidden in the back of my closet. The memories, they kept rushing into my mind but nothing seem right. They were all out of order. I can't decide which happen first or if it really happen.

Outside I can hear the rain or rather loud sounds that sounds like small balls of ice was falling from the sky. Their echoes bounced against the window pane. Soft music was coming from the distance. It sounded gloomy and lonely. I think they were Stephen Bishop songs. I wondered who was playing them and whether they, too, felt lonely during this cold season.

Isabelle

Read Part 7 here.

Surprise

Find this meme from Candid Karina - December's Pensieve's Poetic License. The theme is Celebration and the form is Cinquain.


Want this button?

surprise
early present
open in slow-motion
rushing of happy emotions
tickets

Broken Hearts

This entry is for Monday Mural at Poefusion.

While Sabrina was holding onto me, just barely by the end of my furry leg, I leaned down to give a flower to my beloved. "Here's a gift for you, my sweet," I said. She takes it and threw it down onto the ground. My heart sank along with the flower. Then she scurried away like I was some disease she was trying to avoid. Sabrina was having a hard time hanging onto me but that didn't matter. The love of my life just broke my heart, there was no reason to live.

"I can't hold on!" Sabrina yelled as my leg slowly slipped away from her hand. I fell to the ground hitting my head. I didn't feel the pain only the ache in my heart. Sabrina jumped down and sat next to me. Her face, a sympathetic circle of concern. She placed her hand on my shoulder. "Sorry about that," she said. I knew she was trying to be nice but her sympathy didn't soothe my heart.

I laid there waiting for some kind of sign that maybe my true love will come back to me. But I knew she wasn't my true love. Why else would she had dumped my flower and tossed my heart away like it was trash? If only I had listen to Sabrina. She knew this was going to happen. She tried to convinced me but I just ignored her.

"Linus, you're just going to sulk? Elizabeth's not worth it." Sabrina brushes her furry hair away from her face, her big eyes blinked in disbelief. "Get up! You will find someone new. Maybe she's right in front of you and you don't even know it." I looked up at her, not saying a word. Then she got mad and said, "You're just a big fool!" Then she got up and ran away. Leaving me here, laying on the ground. Why was she so mad? I'm the one who had my heart broken. Then I reminded myself, I wasn't the only one who has their heart broken. Sabrina had always been there for me. Why was I such a fool? I got up, smooth off the leaves of my furry head and ran after Sabrina.

Working for Vacation

This entry is for Picture This #4 at Write Stuff.

I'm such a groofball. What was I thinking? Do I need a reminder of what happened last year? The hole in the ceiling hasn't even been fix yet. I don't even want to think about it.

Why did I drink so much? I knew I made a fool of myself at the Christmas party two nights ago but does anyone remember it? Did I really impersonated my boss as a dumb ass who can't find paper clips that's right in front of him? Did I really do that while standing on top of a desk, jumping up and down like a maniac?

Oh, my brain must not be working today. Is it too late to accept that job in the North Pole? Does bribing the boss still a sensible thing to do when your job's on the line?

I looked across my desk at my coworker and best friend, Iris, whom seem to be busy typing a very long letter of resignation. She types one each year. "Just in case" she said. The office parties had gotten so raucous that even timid Iris could lose her job.

I tried to cheer Iris with my goofy impression of a Christmas ornament. She didn't laugh, just said in a very stern voice, "Lily, get back to work."

I turned back to my computer screen. But seeing those unfinished work makes me want to going running out the door screaming profanities and such. I grudgingly start the work, hoping for some reprieve as the lunch hour rolls around.

The tuna fish sandwich and chocolate pudding didn't make me