Zero Nine Nov 2017

5 0 0 pieces or more
spill over six accounts
5 0 0 holes for fingers
opened over my skin
so  when  will i learn
to use my feet to seek?
so  when  will i learn
the blood  i  squeeze
will in time run dry?
the gills  that i cut
will swallow the knife?
no time better than now
no time like the present
  to remember to breathe
remember to walk toward
  not away
a comet on legs leaving
trails of  meteorites
no  time  better than now
the ropes of the past lace
through the toes to the wrists
how long has it taken?
how lucky am i that i
filled the flesh canvas
with angry scars and
still  have the  knife?
5 0 0 pieces or more
spill over six accounts
5 0 0 holes for fingers
opened over my skin
the detective is done
with the cold  case  blues
the detective is done
penning I 2 U s
there are enough mountains today
tomorrow and on for the detective
to be insane as long as they want
the detective is done
  with  the  cold  case  blues
   so case closed

So many pieces over so many accounts. I've hit so many angles, conjured so many demons, found so much harmony in the echoes of an old, rightfully retired dissonance. I'm at another point in life where I'm ready to initiate a paradigm shift and say a so long. This is the last personal narrative I plan on writing for as long as I can help it. I'm really looking forward to putting all that crap in containment and concentrating on creative projects. If you've liked what you've read so far, keep an eye out for a collaborative project with Toby (of HP) sometime in the future.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for writing.
- Zan
Pagan Paul Sep 2017

The sky is on fire tonight,
reds, orange, yellow, tinged with black.
Rain pelts down like liquid bullets.
I stand in a doorway watching the street,
looking out for Agatha.
I light a cigarette and step into the flow.
Keeping an even pace, eyes scanning.
Agatha is on the rampage, she is angry.
No shit, she is fucking livid.
She runs a pleasure house down on Broadmead,
and her new girl has been wiped out,
abused and soiled, left with no light in her eyes.

Long blond hair and perfect stats,
a classic model for the pleasures of flesh.
An elite girl with always a smile,
never says no when asked to undress.
With perversions wide and eclectic,
she is designed to forever impress.
If your credit extends to cover time,
you can so easily buy her caress.

The melancholy sound of a trumpet seeks refuge in the night,
as a snare is brushed gently and cymbal tapped light,
the far away strum of a guitars soft dreamy strings,
playing the music that compliments what a lone voice sings.

And the rain keeps falling.
I light another cigarette and walk.
Listening to the word on the street,
noticing the petty criminals about their business.
But they don't concern me now,
tonight is for the cautious, being wary.
Blend into the crowd, fade to grey.
And keep an eye out for Agatha.
A drunk steps on my shiny brogues,
a stuttering apology and hasty getaway.
Must have been my stare of pure hate,
and disgust at being rudely interrupted.

Long blond hair and perfect stats,
Rayna lay flat on her back.
Motionless, unmoving, still, dead.
The light in her eyes faded black.
Some john had purchased her favours,
enjoying his lust for an hour.
But he had lost all self control,
given her an internal golden shower.
Her android chips short circuited,
her batteries had all been fused.
Rayna the replicant pleasure girl
had been soiled and services abused.

Cigarette smoke hangs heavy like fog on the old river,
the damned sit at the bar sipping bourbon hand delivered,
the romantics dance on a floor that whispers charms,
planning their moves with the lover held in their arms.

Agatha was spitting feathers,
her anger could not be higher,
she hadn't even made first repayment
to the replicant girls supplier.
And Rayna was now destroyed,
a heap of synthetics for the bin.
A ray of hope hit Agatha's mind,
sell the spare parts for re-cycling.
But she needed to find the pervert,
to let go and vent her spleen.
She'd rip his fucking cock off,
and shatter his disgusting dreams.

The street light barely penetrates the grubby glass,
the bar winds down as yet another night goes passed,
customers sway at tables as they embrace a cloak
of the heady scent and effect of marijuana smoke.

Its getting late, time to go home.
One last cigarette for the road.
I check in for news or reports,
HQ is busy with the nights heavy load.
I finger the badge in my pocket,
like walking with a comfortable friend.
Its been a night of stress and avoidance,
but she will get to me in the end.

It had been an accident.
I'm at that age you see.
Immediately after climax,
I desperately need to pee.

I can't see what all the fuss is about,
its only a dumb blond machine.
But even if Agatha catches up with me,
I have the Department to swear I'm clean.
Stubbing out my cigarette underfoot
as at last I approach my door,
I wonder at a world gone mad,
caring so much for a robot whore.

Long blond hair and perfect stats,
Rayna deceased before her years,
she was popular with the other girls,
who now cry electric tears.

© Pagan Paul (19/09/17)

So many issues in this write. PPx

A little bit of pot
In a canvas bag
And a wallet full of notes
And a piece of rag
A tooth brush and comb
And a letter pack
And a bit of paper
With a number on the back
And a crisp old sheet
From a writing pad
Is a folded memory
And a poem so sad
Yet with joy in the lines
That live on still
While the love they were for
Will no longer thrill
For the cause is lost
Like the canvas bag
Left by the seat
With no name tag
How can I find
That fleeting two?
They won't be in Oxford
They were passing through
I met them in London
By the cold roadside
They wanted a lift
So I gave them a ride
They'll pass on
Down Exeter way
The cost of that lift
Was dear to pay
For now I am left
With a canvas bag
With a leather flap
For a naming tag
All covered with names
That student wrote
So when standing so cold
At a glance he'd note
The words of his subject
Written thereon
And his mind would warm
As he pondered on
The lecture from where
The thought first came
And the hour of the day
When he wrote the name
Nameless he was
And his lady too
Till the old bag
Was sifted through
Then a card
Came to light
With a name upon it
Plain to sight
And I remember
The college hall
Goldsmith's was
The name let fall
So to the English
Scholar then
I may return
The bag again
With a little bit of pot
And a sad love poem
I'll return them all
To their former home.

A hitch Hiker left his bag in my car and I had to think hard to find a way of getting it bag to him.
Aleyna Nov 2016

i am not just a writer.
i am a reader, a teacher
a mentor and an observer.

i am a detective, an adventurer
a listener and a thinker.

i am creating worlds beyond our own,
i am planning, and writing
with all the passion i possess,
crafting new stories that begin in my head.

i am not just a writer.

Sofia Mar 2016

dear chemistry,

you are a detective
you hold scientists
in an enchantment
of protons and neutrons
you dissect me
identifying the components
that allow me to waltz
across light and holy ground
while you are bound
to seek solace
in what my atoms
cannot give you
i cannot give you motion
or allow you speed past me
that is my task
my task is to entrance
philosophers in the "whys"
and "hows" of my force and energy
and i'm sorry that
you are bound to be prose
when you seek to be poetry
i'm sorry that if you were a musician
you'd have all the words
and i'd be the melody
we'd be the song
that could never meet
i'll meet you in between the horizons
when my masters
speak to yours
pondering on what allows
the why to occur and
how does the event happen
i'll meet you in between
question marks and white coats
i'll meet you in the next life
when maybe the future
will allow us to be trees
instead of branches
my arms will spread
to reach out to your matter
past the artifices
and your atoms will
race towards me
all force, energy and velocity
and i will ask the "whats" and "hows"
and maybe you will answer the why
and maybe the answer
will be a discovery
a phenomena of sentences
all questions already answered

always yours, physics

inspired by my physics and chemistry teacher. she teaches both subjects how poetic
Poetic T Feb 2016

Years had past since PTD's cases, all was now
Play and fun. But the little man missed
The chase of what could be found
Of what was hidden from view. He was
A bright young fellow now
Six years old.
Words are longer as gurgles faded into
Memories past thoughts. He had come
Home to mummy,

"How's my little man,

"I have a loose toothy peg Mummy,

"Well no playing,
"As we don't want it lost for the tooth fairy,

So little man played with his cars
"That was close the baddies nearly caught us,

He played till it started to get dark, then heard
His mummy calling from down stairs.

"Little man time to get ready for bed sweet heart,

"Ok mummy I'm changing now,

A jumper did fly socks also too,
Trousers flew in the air landing waist
Side up on his head too.
Times of an imagination as he runs around.
But in to jimjams he must now do,
his favourite ones were
Captain Carrot Space Ranger.
He has all the books reading them to sleep
His favourite story before he slumbers in to dreams.

~Captain Carrots Space Race~

Trix sat in his comfy seat, his friends
All waiting for his words of as the race was
Set in the dust nebula
Its dark in space only stars glitter.
But in the dust cloud it was like rainbows blossomed
A light show of the universal beauty.

Right my fluffiest friends its time to launch.
Rockets ignited and away they went,
Captain Trix was nibbling on a cucumber stick.
Then from no where the naughty
  Cat Captain Frost
Bashed and knocked at their ship, and off the
Race course they fell. They tumbled into a pocket of

Darkest space. Captain its  dark  in here, the lights
Faded and all was dark.
  Trix  could hear teeth chattering.

Be calm my friends, there is nothing scary in the shadows.
Take out your carrot coins, and nibble, chew,
And with that, once finger licked and all was chomped
All that was heard was trix voice, right can we all
See? yes captain carrot vison is a go.

They set a course out of this darkest place and
Out they popped into normal space, colours gleamed
As they saw they were in last place.
Rockets burst into action and they flew in
And out, weaving through the clouds
One pasted, two pasted, three pasted
Now they were in second place.

Who should be in first place naughty  Captain Frost
He had a coat as white as snow. but that was
As far as his niceness did go. He was a naughty
Kitty and everyone did know.
Sir he is blocking our path, we cant get through
Ok secret decoy time fluffy friends.

Cats attention set adrift sir, and into space it wondered,
In sight of Captain Frosts view. Out came the holding
Claws, and the space wool did bobble and excitement
Was the pleasure of kitties day. While they entertained
Themselves, Captain Trix did glide on past.
Full speed ahead as they race past the finish line.

Yawns were the calling of the night as the story
Ended as eyes blinked soon to be shut

"Mummy Captain Carrot [Trix] won the race,

"Yes he did darling and that's why meanies are always last,
"Sweet dreams my baby now off to sleep,

The night drew on as eyes slept through, and little
Mans dreams were of carrots and rabbits
That whizzed through the night sky, ZOOM.
Morning broke through his curtains and
Yawns did come and go. Slippers were
On as cold it felt, and downstairs
He wondered dressing gown and all.

"Mummy what's for breakfast?
"Was that me Mummy?

"Open wide little man, goodness me....,
"There is a gap where there should be a tooth?

"O' no I have a missing toothy peg,
"Potty trained detective is on the case,
"I think I may need a new name?
"Junior Trained Detective,
"No that's not right does ring true?
"Buddy The Trained Detective.

"That's the nickname you gave me mummy,

"That's excellent little man, I love your choice,

His mummy smiles and gives him a hug and
Kisses his forehead, they search under his pillow
"Nope? Mmmm... may have to get out the cap
And magnifying glass -o

"Mummy this is too small for me?

"Don't worry little man I thought this day may come,

Out of a box she pulls his new hat out, he tries it
On, perfectly it fits on his head and his detective
Days have started again. Fist my bedroom under
The pillow I will seek my tooth be it here or there.
But pillow case removed quilt removed o' so slowly
For a tooth we don't want to lose it, but nothing appeared.

"One place now searched with a keen eye,
"Now so many other places for it to hide,

He thought of where a tooth would place hide and
Seek from its home in the mouth, under the
Bed he thought.Torch in hand he wiggled under
The wooden from and what we he see but his
Car that vanished quite a while ago, I wondered
Where that went? a sweet, a pen, a coin for the piggybank.

"Mummy its not under or over the bed,
"I looked hard, but no where can it be found,

Little man was frustrated at the thought that the
Tooth fairy would not be rewarded with a tooth.
Right let me think? he thought of that night, it
Was their in bed, when story time was read.
It was their when mummy give him a kiss goodnight.
In the morning it was gone

"Captain Carrot,
"Trix where are you,
This is no time for hide and seek,

He found him tucked in his quilt, sleeping soundly.
"There you are sorry to wake you,
He looked in his hair "Nope not there,
Looked in his tail it was white and fluffy
"Nope not there,
He thought once again? if he were
Captain Carrot where would he keep his
Best friends tooth safe if it feel out in dreamy sleep.

A smile etched across Buddies face at the thought of
Where he would keep it safe for him.
In his little fingers did search around, and then
A little white rock, no a tooth was found.
Captain Trix had kept it safe in his uniform pocket.

"Mummy, mummy,
"The case Is solved I found my tooth,
"Detective work solves a puzzling case again,

"Where was it my little man?

"Captain Carrot had it snuggly warm in his space rucksack,

"That's fantastic,
"Now where does a tooth now found go,

She smiles rubbing his hair, off to his bedroom
He runs tooth proudly in hand.
Lifting his pillow he gently places it with pride
In the place where the tooth fairy could easily
Reach and find. Leaving a special present for this
Little boy who had found his missing toothy peg.

"I think I may keep this cap,
"Let Buddy the trained detective solve cases again soon,

Omar Kawash Apr 2015

Don't lie to me.
No-no don't start with me.

I know what you did.

Denial, denial.

you're getting tired
of this?

I'm sorry,
let me get you a coffee
cause we're just beginning.

It's not your fault?
How could I not believe you
and think you are lying
with those patiently-worn
innocent eyes and enchanting

I can see it
clearly the panic
dilating pupils.

Scared now?
your massive pupils are
giving it all away.
You're clearly guilty.

Now fess up.
Make this easier on the both of us.
I don't wanna stand here
all day and have to berate you
when we both know you're just

gonna cave and admit to it.
You're the culprit.

What? You're saying that's a baseless accusation?
Ha! Tell that to the two way mirror!

They can see
your arms stretched out,
palms facing up
on the table like an image of Christ
pleading mercy.

More like Mary Magdalene
begging for forgiveness
for her sins.
Classic pose,
pretending to be naïve.

Don't let those
those tears won't work on me.

I know
what you've done!
I saw
you do it!
I have
the proof!

What? You're demanding to see it?
I'll take you
to the crime scene
but you're not to touch anything.
Cold steel cuffs oughtta keep you right.
Come with me,
keep up by my side.

Look at this mess!
How can you even want to see this, you psychopath?
Proud of your work, Huh?

There- on that wall- you can see
where it started.
The back of this man's head, looks like somehow
it was blown open from the back of his skull,

that's when his amygdala took the hit

and ended up in some mental odyssey
and just let you have your godforsaken way
with his disabled mind.

But then you had to keep going, didn't you?
You dragged him,
look at the bruises on shoulder blades, big and wide,
obviously had to wrap your arms around him,
squeezing his dead body.
You couldn't move someone
bigger than you so you used everything in you
and brought him to his knees
at this permanently stained couch.

This whole thing is ridden with evidence.

Oh, and now you say:
you didn't mean to?

This scene too graphic for you?

Maybe you should take a close look at how
you and his fingers are both broken!
What kind of altercation was that?
He already looked dead by then and you-
you held him laced to you after all
that damage?

The poor man was damned
from the moment his curious eyes saw
your sweetness.  

And, after all that,
you had the audacity
to bruise his neck?
Was that your intention to kill him,
make sure he died?
Or just torture him

till he begged
for sweet release,
You must have given him just that

judging by how his skull is split
and not even in two,
but a complete desecration.
I mean look at the clear
weaving of neurons from hemisphere to hemisphere!

The thoughts
that he could musta had could only be
beyond manic
after this tryst.

I guess at that point
you felt bad enough for
the charmed fellow
you decided that was it,
to finish with him.

Damn, I don't know how you even did  this.
Rib cage broke and bones sticking straight out of his chest
and his heart gone?

You seem like those
succubus, straight from mythology.
The ones that seem
all innocent then eat the heart of a man.
I bet that's what you did.

I've heard on National Geographic that there were
people who believed
you could take a person's soul
and have it become part of you.
But to literally do such a thing?

Ugh, just
Those cherubic eyes,
they're showing nothing
but contentment.
You're absolutely insane
for the satisfaction you have.

You need not say anything more.

Now, you have to live with yourself and your delusional beliefs.
At least,
in some twisted way,
that poor child will forever live on, even if it is for an eternity
captivated by you.

Eris Apr 2015

In the end I know
This relationship cannot be mended by words alone
Tongues turn into deadly daggers
Piercing our skin        
Leaving wounds yet to heal
no words would appeal      
Words would not suffice                
A relationship as cold as ice
Never have I thought it would come to this
I would plead, plead that please
Let's just stop it
All of this is just for naught
But let us never forget the lesson it taught

" Words are like swords. If you use them the wrong way, they’ll turn into ugly weapons. There are cases of broken friendship that could have lasted a lifetime if not for verbal abuse. Once you sever your ties, you might not see each other again."

The quote above is from Detective Conan. It is also my banner in my page.
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