The ***, I thought. Pirates drink ***, I decided, because then the world rocks like a boat. My foot was tingling, like it was asleep, but I was just sitting on it, which seemed funny.

I managed to free my foot and the whole world seemed more comfortable.
Then a spider was on my face!
I swatted at it, but it was just my hair, which I managed, with dizzying effort, to tuck behind my ear.

Everett, slid off the couch, in front of me, like an alligator off a sand bank. I hadn’t noticed him before. He worked his way over next to me, on all fours, like a lazy, wobbly panther.

“Everett,” I said, as if to establish the fact that that blurry shape was indeed Everett.
“ANN-Ais,” he replied, and chuckled like we’d exchanged punchlines. He was next to me now.
“You’re very,” he said, as if struggling for the next word, “PRetty,” he said, petting my arm like a cat.

Then, still on all fours, he lifted one hand and touched a finger to my right breast, as if it were a sleeping thing he was trying to wake. I watched him, detachedly. He looked distorted, like a reflection in a funhouse mirror. His backside slumped down, like a lion that was full and ready to nap, and he rebalanced himself on his left elbow and licking his lips reached over again.

I gently, preemptively, pushed his reaching hand away, “Stop thAT,” I said, “yourrrrrr drrUNK.”
“YOU’RE, are TOO!” He said, in sloppy accusation, which made me laugh and then him too.

“Leave me alone,” I managed to say, pretty clearly. Prompting Everett to frown and give me a jerky, dismissive wave as he, the proud panther, began to look for other prey.

I looked around and saw my purse, on the table next to the chair that was holding me up. The strap was just within reach so I yanked on it and my purse thumped roughly onto the carpet next to me. My glass, which was next to it, threatened to tip over but settled itself upright.

I fished out my phone, while fighting a curtain of my hair that had decided to attack me when I reached for my purse. “Hey, Siri,” I slurred, “callllll CHarles.”
It rang once. “Yep,” he said.
“Come get me pleaZ,” I said, trying to get my hair and tongue separated.

Two minutes later Charles was there. He held out his hand, which I managed to take while somehow shouldering my purse. He pulled me to an unsteady stance, shook his head and scooped me, effortlessly, into a cradle carry. “Do you have everything?” He asked.

I nodded and said, “Thank you for inviting me, EVVVV!” While waving wildly as we left.
Once outside, he said, “14-year old's do NOT drink!” With a real edge in his voice.
“I’m sorry,” I said, in a tone of tired melancholia. I couldn’t help resting my face on his warm chest as he carried me to our house just next door to Everett’s.
“You’re GROUNDED for a MONTH.” He said in a growl.
Somehow, I managed to make it upstairs and into bed without encountering my parents.

In the morning, while I was busy feeling like death, Charles told my parents, “She’s grounded for a month.” I was. They didn’t ask why, and he didn’t offer to say.

I love Charles.

Can a pure soul, haunted by desires, plot gross revolt for straight satisfaction?
Can giving in to the disobedient beasts of want, be an act of “reclaiming power?”

A thunderstorm rolled across early sunrise like a choppy, inverted surf, drowning my usual distractions. In still moments, my heart hurts - as if it were bruised. Peter has a hold on me, he pulls on my life. I need to talk to Charles.

Lisa comes into the sunroom where most of us are lounging. “Looks like the weather’s clearing.” she said, and all eyes turned to the sky. “And there’s a kid, cleaning leaves out of the pool, his arms look like socks full of coconuts.”
“What?” Anna said.
“Where?” Leong asks. Six girls step up close to the windows like mannequins in a shop display.
“Oh, my.” Sophy says, drawing it out like an accusation, “the pooool boy!”
“He’s fifteen,” I say, making an ID through the excited crowd, instantly dousing the fire.

“This place is like a hotel, it’s larger than life.” Anna said. “The other night, when we shared those shooters, the hall leading to my room seemed like an airport concourse.”
“I’d LOVE to have lived here.” Sunny said, dramatically as she slowly reached for a strawberry off her fruit plate. Then turning to me she inquires, “How’d you pull it off?”
“It’s one of the things we don’t talk about,” I answered, conspiratorially, “I’m sure *** was involved,” I add, wiggling my eyebrows.
“Mmm,” she practically hummed, biting into the juicy strawberry goodness, “it always is.”
“Do you miss it?” Anna asks.
“I’m trying to move on with my life.” I admit.

I spot Charles out by the pool, crouching down. He’s testing the water quality and I decide that now's the time. I’m going to tell him I’ve decided to override him and invite Peter here for August - peridot.

I made my way out and around to where he’s working, getting more nervous with every step.
“Do you think we’ve been peeing in the pool?” I said, hoping to bring on a jokey mood, but it doesn’t really hit.

“No,” he says, forever the serious one, “You know that chlorine smell pools get?” I nod, sorry I made the stupid joke. “Well, that smell isn’t chlorine - can you smell the pool?” I inhale and nod yes. “That chemical smell would be the chlorine reacting to *** - and there isn’t any.”

I sit on the edge of a lounge chair, near where he’s working - to lay it all out and tell him what I’ve decided - but as I watch him my confidence fades and my lips won’t move. How can I argue with my parents, have knock-down screaming matches and not be able to say word-one with Charles? I’m so frustrated my eyes fill with tears.

He knows me too well though, we’ve been together forever - since a girl at my school was murdered when I was nine. We’ve shared sagas. He knows and has faithfully kept all of my secrets.

I’d bet he’s been watching my wheels turn for days. “You always think you see a path forward that others don’t,” he says softly, “but you have a lot of runway left, Kid-O.”

I leave the pool and storm inside - not really angry, more embarrassed to be so vulnerable.
I get on the treadmill, and I run.

Thin, white bones watch me from under the skin.
They stretch and crumple it in movement, that transparent membrane, the net of veins and nerves sensitive to every touch of the breeze in an unusually cold night of late June.
Bare shoulders rip the wind of dense darkness as if they were sharp white arrows, cowed, waiting, determined, for the first rays of sun that are still far on the brim of the night, far away, further than the stars.
Some sounds break the stillness; some lonely cries of iron beasts somewhere in the darkness, some echos of lonesome laughters evaporate in the small, lost streets.
We are the night shift, we are the guardians of the night air and the slumbering breaths of closed eyelids, we guard the dreams so no one can steal them, our white arrows and determined eyes fight the boogeyman that hides in the dark, for a few more hours of serenity, until the morning sun chases away all the monsters back into the very depths of the darkest shadows.
And the next night, the battle continues...

The faded beauty,
a desiccated blush
Still seen by you and me
was evidence of
a scarlet flush.

But the season is over
And the mating done.
Splendor still hovers
Until the two are one.

But who are we to stand and gawk,
Though they rest in shade and know us not?

Their hour is spent in the maiden sun,
And we arrive after the race is won.

Stoop low to gather useless information
about magnetism and procreation.
We are nothing more than nature's shields
And the guardians of whatever she yields.

Our protectors from the storm.


Come shed a tear, for our fallen sons.
Our friends; our children; our brothers in arms.
Our army of deceased heroes;
Our protectors in the storm.


Our love, our life, our hope and future,
Has been washed away
And for what reason we cannot decipher.
But we trust in the Lord, to take care of them all;
The one’s who made it back
And the one’s that had to fall.
The one’s who fought and won our war;
Our protectors in the storm.


So I wish upon this starry, starry night,
That God had not sent his angels into flight,
To retrieve the souls of the fallen;
The lives that were too short and stolen.
From us as dust is now to dust,
The ashes have blown away
And so now have our protectors from the storm.


Why Lord?  Why did they have to go?
Why Lord did you cause us all, so much sorrow?
Why Lord, why my son and not another?
Why Lord?  Why not me, instead of my brother?


He was a hero, I was a survivor;
I cannot protect my family, from the storm.
For this war has taken all our lives;
The ones who live, too are no more.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

The Bear emerged
from the wildfire

a smoldering, wheezing ruin.
His paws had been

nearly completely seared off
by the superheated

forest floor
of the Sierra Nevada foothills.

His coat was singed and maimed
by ash and ember.

His eyes and nostrils burned
from the unsparing smoke he had breathed.

The Bear felt
the slightest pinch

behind his shoulder,
and his eyes grew heavy.

When he opened them again,
he was in a new place—

an incomprehensible place—
a place of straight lines

and unfathomable
mathematical precision and artificiality.

He had heard rumor
that such places existed—

the forest spoke of them
hurriedly but indirectly.

He had seen other bears return
with foreign things

inserted through their ears or ringing
their necks, inescapable and alien signifiers

of having encountered
an otherworldly form of existence.

The Bear had lost his strength and could
no longer walk. His paws were wrapped

in linen. He smelled fish skin
just beneath it.

Apes
came and went—just like

the ones he had
seen and smelled before in the woods.

But these apes were much quieter,
and less afraid.

They only visited when he was
half-asleep or having trouble breathing.

The Bear drifted in and out
of consciousness like this

until he lost track of day
and night and time.

After one long but fitful sleep
he came to.

He smelled the forest again
before he had even opened his eyes.

His paws were no longer wrapped,
although they still smelled of fish.

He braced his massive frame
against the warm, dry earth and pushed.

His strength had returned
at last.

Three of the apes were standing
just a short distance away.

The Bear did not fully understand
why they had intervened,

or why they abducted him as he was making
peace with his own death.

He thought that they could be divine.
But he decided to stay wary of them, as bears do.

The Bear walked back into the forest,
scorched but now healing.

He wondered who or what would intervene
to help the ones who had saved him,

wondered whether they, too,
have some incomprehensible celestial stewards

that wait to rescue them
as they themselves wheeze and smolder

and shamble, unknowingly,
toward death’s door.

I have met souls that are like rays of light
A sun of hope that removes every fright
Their smiles are as beautiful as the rainbow
For they are the kindest persons you'll ever know

They remind you life is worthwhile despite of affliction
For it all depends on our attitude and reaction
In this earth they are like God's blessings
A place of solace from all sufferings

They have dealt in pain throughout their life
Yet they never gave up as there is victory after every strife
They will aid you in times of need and agony
Angels that linger with us silently

There is a road I take, this day.
Tree guardians are near.
Leaves move in graceful wind.
tickling inside ears.

The trees shelter me with their love.
Birds sing with divine voice,
telling me to walk in heart.
cause LOVE'S the only choice.

Now harmony and joy, I feel.
It's how I live each day.
Moving with my gratitude
I bow and I do pray.

I pray and walk with my spirit.
I move below the sun
Miracles come every day.
In life I have great fun.


StarBG © 2017

when he sees her first
he tastes the acid in his throat.
it burns hot when she tells him her name.
he tries it once, twice,
five more times,
memorised on his tongue.

she sees him once as a leader and a guardian.
she sees him again as a humble man.
and finally she sees him as a man of anger,
of rage,
and great beauty
pouring blood red between his teeth.

throwback to when they first met,
now with their fingers entwined.
neither are angels although they are guardians,
captivated by each other's beauty.
individual angers, individual loves gleam
molten gold in their eyes.

The back door.  Green eyes and smelly fur!  The werewolf comes for our kid.   Its time!  White Knight teddy armed with a wooden sword and Judy the red Raccoon and her magical red powers!  Its time to vanquish this nightmare before it even starts!  The werewolf tears down the back door and howls in the darkness.  All we can see is the bright green eyes shining in the blackness.  And there awaits White Knight Teddy and Judy the Red Raccoon!  W.K.T lands a flurry of blows with his awesome unbreakable wooden sword as the werewolf cries in pain!  Judy the Red then emits waves of magical red beams that knock the werewolf out the back door as it screams in fear and scampers back into the woods!

And so W.K.T And Judy the red Raccoon triumph over the would be nightmare that was trying to haunt their kid.  NOT TONIGHT!!!