j-a-doetschWhisper

40 / M / American
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Deep in her EyesI'm looking deep into her eyes / *Looking into her eyes... / is like opening a door that leads...
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World's Smartest ManHe owned books on many subjects / leather bound, with complex concepts / on which he'd ponder and reflect
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MinorityYou slowly walk down the avenue of normality / Ignoring the side streets and oddly placed alleys / Change, you feel, is strange and unnerving
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What I would doWhat would I do for you? There's lots of things, actually / I would spontaneously start speaking Hungarian for you...but it probably would sound like nonsense / and some Hungarian dude
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For Better or WorseHe was definitely dead. That much could be gathered. He was standing over his own body, sixty feet away from the car. fifty-nine feet away from the telephone pole. The pool of blood on the blacktop was rippling from the sheets of rain that were piercing it. The rain bounced off of his lifeless eyes, staring on into the cloudy sky. His shocked expression was forever frozen on his face. He walked around the corpse, both fearful and excited. He was dead....He was DEAD! He was on the other side! He looked around, searching for the 'white light', but all he found was a man dressed in a ratty trench coat staring directly at him. Rotting teeth smiled at him under a grungy Fedora in a way that reminded him of a jack-o-lantern carved into the likeness of Indiana Jones that had been left out past Thanksgiving. A withered hand beckoned him. / He was not hesitant. He was not fearful. / Those were emotions controlled by a brain that was currently about as useful as a bag full of gelatin. He strode forward and took the man's hand. It was neither hot nor cold. They were no longer in the rain. They were in a room with a large monitor
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The StruggleIt starts with a tickle to my heart / tries to gently push my lips apart / I resist, much to it's consternation,
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Ten Ways To SayWe will walk through the Cherry blossoms / in Japan, hand in hand, meandering through / the falling petals. Our winding path
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Says Who?You will read this poem aloud in your head / You'll read this line in an Australian accent / You will read this line in a British accent
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Blood DriveI arrived at the church at 5:30. / It took me a bit to find the place / there were only a couple half-inflated baloons
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The Dam is BreachedHaHA, I've done it! I've created a device / That can tap into my subconscious / and translate it for all to hear.
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