I wonder, have you noticed yet,
That when we look into our friends’ eyes,
They refuse to meet our gazes
Lest we see the pity that therein lies.
I try to question them why it’s so,
But they deflect with waving hands
Saying, “Enjoy the summer sun,
The beach, the waves, the sands.
“Cast your minds upon happy things.
Don’t think about what lies ahead.
Remember picnics and smiles and laughter
And warm nights of cuddling on his bed.
“The summer will give you life;
Its multitude of golden rays
Will support and nurture your love,
And provide memories of pleasant days.
“For you’ll soon have to face the truth:
When the autumn strikes
There’ll be no more days of tanning
Or cooking or kissing or riding bikes.”
They told us to enjoy the here and now
Because reality would set in soon.
When they told us, I came to you crying,
And you held me under the mid-summer moon.
Everyone was talking in our ears.
We could try to make it through the fall,
But when frost touched the ground,
No doubt, we couldn’t hang onto it all
But, darling, I’ll tell you a secret,
Something that they don’t know:
You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
And as far as seasons go,
We cannot be constrained by time.
Distance does not matter to me.
Despite everything that they will say,
We can beat the odds and break free.
If I could,
I'd board a greyhound right now and get to you in
two days and two hours.
I'd tell you I was on my way and you'd probably cry,
cry the happiest tears of your life.
Then you would take me home with you
and keep me warm.
We'd just falls asleep in each other's arms.
But none of these things are possible.
I'd do this and more
if I could.
"Sometimes I wonder if anything is actually real at all... or if it's just me"
" I mean... I doubt anything is real, and even if it is... I don't think any of it has any purpose."
"Ya? Like its all in our imagination... just a big shitty joke."
" Even if it...the world - reality; does exist; in a physical, permanent, sense, It's still all a matter of perspective on why it - or what it - (it being reality) is to you. It changes from person to person, and if you don't like it: you can change it. Which makes it seem even more like... it isn't real..."
"I just wish there was a purpose... I wish I could find a reason for my life."
"No one ever will, I don't think it's possible. The wish for reason, for a light at the end of the tunnel, is the ultimate weakness of man... but it's also the ultimate strength: it's all gratuitous - it's progress - sadness. The search for purpose is a lesson in futility... taught by hope."
" I think... I think I'm just... just tired"
"It is late"
"No, no not like that, not like physically, like of the way things are going, I'm just fucking tired of life."
"I am too... I think everyone is on some level. At least till you reach denial... or acceptance... or the ability to be oblivious - Life is a week of insomnia in an eternity of dreamless sleep - In the end none if it matters. I think if there is a purpose me and you will never be able to find it, we're only humans: we get tired, we get confused, scared, we misinterpret signs, we're filled with error. If we did find a purpose it'd be filtered through our perception, applicable to no one el-"
"You just passed the only store."
"... Sorry... I was too busy paying attention to you."
"Its ok, I didn't need it anyways. It was just an impulse thing."
"Impulses should be acted on though. You don't have much time for procrastinating, and you have to do it now because you never know when your numbers punched."
"...True..."
I pull up slow to the front of your house
we say goodbye
and god do I want to reach out and grab you
want to hold you - and not let go
lie
and tell you I know the reason
a reason
any reason.
Its an urge that spreads energy through my limbs from a pit in the bottom of my stomach
like it's going to shake me or tear me apart.
I want to kiss you,
but I just drive away slow
and contemplate how utterly useless everything really is.
...............................................
Have you ever heard
Of the Ikinzoo Owl?
Or the Blue-Bellied,
Tozzle-Moffed Took?
Have you ever seen
Even one Pflittleflufly?
Or haven't you fancied
The look?
I doesn't take much
Just to sneak a quick peek
At that Flue-Feathered,
Bottle-Plumed, Katydid Beak.
And it won't mind it a bit,
If you take that quick look.
And will probably never remember
The look that you took.
Those Dopple-Doed Daw's
From North-Eastern, South-West,
Are as easy to find
As a Beezle-Bugs Nest.
They have no sense of direction,
They haven't yet found
If the up part is up,
Or if the up part is down.
And the Wickawhitz Thumb
From northeast Timbuktu
Does things even a
Tozzle-Moffed Took will not do!
It will shimmel its feathers.
It will pittle and twittle
Its toes and its nose
Quite a lot and a little.
It will twitchel and itch,
And pretend to count sheep.
It will scuddle its pib,
And then snore in its sleep.
It will build up a nest
Til' it's outright absurd,
And the Wickawhitz Thumb
Isn't even a bird!
Now, the odds are so odd,
And the chances so high,
You've yet to see a
Many-Eyed Itch wander by.
Many-Eyed Itches are
Quite a rare find.
To find one you'll need luck
Of the luckiest kind.
In fact, the odds are so odd,
And the chances so slim,
You'll never find more
Than a spot and a whim
Of half a half Itch
As it hides in the din
From the Monstrous You
As you come barging in.
I am not at all sure
If you've rationed a thought-
Or considered that Fuzzlenut Gnit
A whole lot, or not.
They are never a bother,
And they are always at play
A full twenty-three hours
Out of the day.
The Sap-Sucking Snizz
From the Coasts of Mahktall
Are not too hard to find.
Oh no, not at all.
They're everywhere, everyplace,
Sucking up sap,
Just before and right after
They've taken their nap.
And have you ever heard
Of a Twizzle-Toed Toff?
Who's toes twizzle so often
They cough and they cough,
Far into the morning
And then right before bed?
Hacking and hooting
Til they're red in the head?
No?
Why, I'd have guessed that
The answer was yes.
I'd have fashioned an awful big yes
As my guess.
Twizzle-Toed Toff's
Are not rare, not a bit.
All you do is look, and you'll see one
Lickety-split!
And the OggNogging Fitch,
From the Island of Soe
Who only nest in the shades
Where the Kurutta winds blow.
In places so high
They are covered in snow,
In places abandoned
So long ago.
Then have you ever heard
Of the Buggle-Nosed Snodd?
Or the Green-Eared,
Three-Headed G'Nute?
Have you ever seen but one
Popple-Topped Phfiss?
Or a Fugel-Flocked, Many-Horned,
Nevel-Winged Pflute?
Have you ever heard of
A BarBerry Duck?
It's a barmy, odd dabbler,
And with a wee bit of luck
You can find one, or three,
Near that old BarBerry Loam,
In an old box of tea
That they tend to call home.
Have you ever seen
A Greenbean Wildersnitt?
The kind with plumed feathers
And a bobble on it?
You haven't? Well, that is
A terrible shame, such a pity,
To have never seen even one
In our fair and fine city.
Have you ever heard
Of a Fuzzle-Eared Fligg?
The oddisly odd
Fuzzle-Eared Fligg from Zinnzaire?
This Fuzzle-Eared Fligg
Is the pick of the crop
If you ever plan a trip
To the way, way out there.
It seems rather selfish of me
Then to selfishly ask
If you've ever heard of
A Nozzle-Nosed Flask.
A little pest of a bird,
Should you ever find
One of those Nozzle-Nosed Flask's
Taking up all your time.
It seems hard to believe,
And I can believe quite a bit,
That you've yet to see
A Greenbean Wildersnitt.
Or a Tozzle-Moffed Took,
Or a Popple-Toffed Phfizz.
It is a little bit odd,
Yes it is. Yes, it is...
To have missed every Twozitt
That skittles the sky,
Or that Hippillopottomus Bear
That oft wanders by.
And the Pflittlefluefly that
Whispers by on the breeze,
Leaving their Pflittlefluefly-fingered nests
In all of these tree's.
And to have never seen
An Ikinzoo Owl hoot and howl,
Or a Webb-Footed
Gobbtrotter trott.
Seems you're missing much more
Than ever before,
For you've been missing
A respectable lot.
You must be walking about
With your Pog-Goggles on,
The ones that go Beep!
Whenever you yawn.
And I am ever so certain
You have yet to discover
Perhaps you! Oh, yes, you!
Are not at all a bird lover!
Copyright © 2010 Richard D. Remler
...............................................
“From there to here, and here to there,
funny things are everywhere.”
-Dr. Seuss
...............................................
i can take you to the hillside if you want to see the moonlight
with just a general store to buy things we can afford
by Jonathan D Maraccini
They say
Dreams are not real in the world we live in
They say
Angels are fiction outside of religion
They say
A sinner is condemned unless forgiven
I say
Dream of angels who forgive our sins
When I was young I had a dream
It was the day I turned 14
I was a king who married a queen underneath a beautiful cedar tree
In this dream we had a beautiful baby then we lived happily ever after
What a perfect ending, everything was perfect it seemed
Then tragedy struck without warning
In this dream
I lost my home, my wife, my child
In this dream
I lost my wonderful family
With tears of sorrow underneath the cedar tree I screamed
Then I fell to the ground and said some horrible things in the darkness
But it was all just a dream I remind you
At least that is what I was told that night
The day I turned 14
They say
Dreams are not real in the world we live in
They say
Angels are fiction outside of religion
They say
A sinner is condemned unless forgiven
I say
Dream of angels who forgive our sins
I am not a little boy any longer
I grew up and became a man
Then I met a beautiful women
How she made me happy then
So we married and had a daughter
The happiest day of my life
Was the day I became a father
A bond had formed as I watched her eyes
I held her close to keep her warm
I knew I would never leave her
Life was a perfect delight
Or so I thought, or so I thought
In the end
We leave our mark
In the end someones the victim
A fool from the very start
Like lambs for the slaughter
As the truth is hidden
They say
Dreams are not real in the world we live in
They say
Angels are fiction outside of religion
They say
A sinner is condemned unless forgiven
I say
Dream of angels who forgive our sins
Sitting on a bench in a redwood forest
I heard a bird sing a glorious song
This was not my imagination
So I began to sing along
Next to me a girl with black hair
We laughed together
We walked together
Love of the forest we both shared
Her eyes were black, her hair was long
Such a spectacle
Nothing on earth could ever go wrong
Or so I hoped, or so I hoped
Knock on wood
For I was blind
Evil was there the entire time
Sitting underneath a cedar tree
Whistling a haunting song
They say
Dreams are not real in the world we live in
They say
Angels are fiction outside of religion
They say
A sinner is condemned unless forgiven
I say
Dream of angels who forgive our sins
Eventually she left me
It was Christmas Eve
She took my daughter
She took the angel from me
She ran away
She spread her wings of deceit
She lied to everybody
But first she lied to me
Maybe she was the one whistling
Underneath the cedar tree
Underneath the cedar tree
Where evil withered the leaves
So now I hate her
The destroyer of beautiful dreams
The filthy liar
The wrecker of families
As I wither away behind her
I’m left with only my words
With the cedar tree on fire
I quench my angry thirst
And my pain becomes a curse
I do not care who see's these words
My anger festers for all
Two faced liars in a family herd
So stand in line as I fall
It is what it is
When it is understood
It is all it has been
For the bad and the good
As I hang on this cross
As I hang underneath the cedar tree
Crucified to this wood
© JDMaraccini
VAPORSiX CREATiONS
He ripped her off
Because he knew he wouldn't get caught
"That's what she gets
for trusting us" he thought
Everywhere people will try to take away your light
impose their own darkness and make you sorry
for even trying to let to it shine
don't listen to them
they don't know better than you
but learn from them
the things you won't do
I guess he was just lost
He does things because he won't get caught
but all he really wanted was to get caught
look reality is.....people are going to tell you alot of things in life, but if you got a reason, seek it out....
Sometimes I have to look at your pictures.
I wonder what you look like now
Right now
laying on your side in the middle of your bed, eyes closed
greasy hair
shirt off, boxers
arm outstretched
blankets rippled
alone, or maybe not
i like to think you are.
Not that I'm alone all the time
Because I haven't been alone this whole time
But I feel so alone in those times
Or I remember how alone I am
Without you
I've been too far for too long
I long to come back to this planet
and live in your world again
wasting the summer away
waiting for you all day
then going out at night
and coming back to your bed
so we could be alone
now you're alone
and you do all the same things without me
And I try to make do
Without you
I cleaned out an old drawer
of odds and ends.
paperclips and the door to a battery case on some remote
an orange candle stub, from Halloween I think
batteries and four flashlights, though only one worked
and parts of things I'm sure made sense to keep at the time
I have no idea what they are now
I cleaned out an old drawer
of things forgotten
my daughter picture in a lost setting
a letter of gratitude from a friend, but for what?
a postcard from Barcelona
graduation announcements for our friend's children
I don't think I sent a gift
I cleaned out an old drawer
of memories and my past
a ticket stub from an evening with Isabel
a newspaper clipping of my son in scouts
old mother's day cards from the kids
New York City subway map from October 2001
Memories of adventure and affection
I cleaned out an old drawer
and sorted, discarded and remembered
batteries went together in a small box
rubber bands and coins in appointed places
memories dusted off and replaced
out of the drawer and back into my heart
My life has cabinet drawers
stuffed with junk and trash mixed with treasures and tools
I think I'll clean my cabinet more often
To organize things that I've needed
like my mom and dads affection and support
kind and playful friends'
Throw away useless things
like anger, resentment, and regret
to make room for our treasures
And be reminded of what has been
a childhood of play, security, and discovery
magical children and the wonder at every age
my beloved's steadfast love and respect
I cleaned out an old drawer
and found some peace.
