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Katie Parsons Feb 2018
The sounds of church bells and the pleas of pastors saying "do not fear for God is near" echoes in my ears as i watch my father leave his temple to walk with the almighty.
The warmth of his hands began to fade into cold, and lifeless limbs i did not recognize.
Lingering sounds of a flat line accompanied by your voice of despair to let my father go.
That was when the first few petals fell.

Your vivacious smile accompanied by your long midnight hair was buried within the garden under the dead apple tree. 
The whispers of silence were deafining to your ears as you wet your pillows with the taste of brandy on your lips and the black streaks ran down your cheeks.
The once so full flower was beginning to thin. 
My hands turned cold as yours pulled away into those of another who was not my father. 
A rose petal fell. 

Time ceases to stop or slow down except when we are feeling melancholy.
But time with you was like taking roses off of a thorny bush with your bare hands; delicate and painful.
Just like you and i.
A child was left for the elders, but little did they know, she was an old soul.
I saw the sadness projecting through your eyes as you were trampled by this concept we call life.
I attempted to be of aid to you mother, but the demons wouldn't let go.
Little did i know your demons could wither a flower.

White oleander ran through your veins as you put those little white pills into your mouth.
A rose petal fell.
Then the day came where you were flying high. The sounds of white noise and tear drops hitting my skin haunt my dreams as i learned of the rose being taken away from me.
But did you know mother?
Did you forsee the quick end to a great future?
I did not; however, i knew there was not going to be much of a story to tell if you did not stop playing with the thorns.
But like a flower, you were delicate.
I guess that is where i get it from.
With every beautiful flower comes a root.
The last rose petal fell.

All that is left is a seed and thorns.
But to make a new flower, you only need the seeds.
A rose is like a Phoenix; the flower dies, but the seeds are reborn.
You left me with a seed of your life that i can use to continue to blossom into a beautiful rose like you.
And one day, my petals too will fall and wither. 
But my flower wont be made weak with thorns, but strong with them.
The thorns i have will be my story even as my thorns watch my petals fall to the cold damp soil that is my pillow.
Every petal falling is a different ending.
Your rose died with you.
Just like my fathers died with him.
But my petals wont fall.
My petals will one day wither to only be replanted again.
AJ Jul 2013
I've been stuck reading a deranged book
Where twelve year olds are *****,
And a small child is more philisophical than my professor.
It makes me want to become "Manda and the Giant Peach".
But instead I grab a steak knife and a peach from the fridge.
I listen to the rain on the tin roof.
It is a deafining constant.
It's the soundtrack to infinity.
Every other time you blink
You're naked in a bathtub in a mental institution,
With some lady named Mrs. White
Looking down at you as you throw a fit.
I throw good fits.
I hate to blink back to my peach and my knife and my book.
I might as well just throw another fit
And throw the peach away.
Oh Mrs. White?
Katlyn Orthman Oct 2012
Death was not unfamilar to me. I'd killed my share of things classified as monsters. I wasn't complaining really, my job kept the humans safe. I just felt guilty, I was practically a monster myself. They call us Warriors of the night, we're not Vampires, we are born with extra strenght and a long life span. I was born a long time ago, I was raised to **** monsters that terrorize the human race. Since I was six, I'd been trained to ****. I was a killing machine, best of my kind. Yet somehow, even though what I do is considered an honor, I don't feel proud. I've been doing my job much to long, and lately I'd began getting sloppy with my work. God knows Rowan would be one ****** of boss if he heard about me letting the group of baby Werewolves. I wasn't a complete heartless ******* to **** a bunch of babies.
    I might've been two years ago, before the whole incident happened. I layed my head in my hands, I couldn't go there, not now. I needed a clear head. My small apartment in Master Singu's house was getting messy. I hadn't had time to clean lately with all of the monster attacks that had been popping up lately. Ghouls, Goblins, Oni, Ogre, you name it and it's been attacking. Wasn't much we could do with the Banshee, they were more of a signifier then a monster. A signifier of death, and usually they gave me a heads up if the person who's house it's been surrounding, is gonna die. Banshee were cruel looking creatures, never gotten to close to one, they make **** sure of that. Not sure I ever want to. They were ruled by the one and only, Death. And i will gladly stay as far from death as possible. Haven't heard too many good things about him. Death is one of the Four horsemen. Scariest ******* in the underworld, and I would gladly never meet any of deaths brothers or sisters, what ever the gender their welcome to stay away. There was a soft knock on my door, io glanced at the clock on the wall, it was already three. Warriors worked night shift basically, since thats the time most monsters like to come out.
    The victorian styled door was a black cherry carved wood, with a ancient symbols carved in so no evil spirit couls cross into my apartment, so I wasnt worried any monster was at my door. But I was suprised to see Cameron when I opened the door. Cameron and I used to work the nights together until he'd gone off and gotten married to Sylvia, who was a vampire. Vampires were only considered monsters when they didnt follow the rules. No feeding off of unwilling people, only donors, and they couldnt go around killing people. Their biggest rule though was not to tell any human what they were, Warriors like me had a lot of people to execute.
   "Cameron, never thought I'd see you around here anymore," just as I was talking to him I realized, Cameron looked scared and desperate. Unlike someone who spent his life killing evil monsters that were twice the size of him. " What's wrong Cameron?" He shook his head and walked past me, through the door and into the living room. "It's Sylvia, Theon please help me," Camerons voice was going all thick and his eye's all watery. This was deffinetly something bad. " Tell me, what has happened with Sylvia?" I needed Cameron in his most focused form to help me out, but as I looked at the shaking man I knew he was beyond that. " You remember the king vampire we took down to save Sylvia?" Cameron said quitely, but I knew instantly what vampire he was talking about. That vampire had killed Abelia. I quickly swept that from my mind and focused back on Cameron. " Yes I remember, "  I had no idea where Cameron was going with this. " You remember his brother than, the one that got away, he said that we would both pay. He, ah, made you pay that day. I never thought that he would carry out with his threat. He kidnapped Sylvia, and Sylvia is pregnant, " Cameron almost lost it right there.
    I never thought that, pip squeak of a vampire had it in him, but he was smart and possesed powers we hadn't known about until we had come across them. Their king that we had slayed, had been capturing girls of all species and abusing them in such barbaric ways.
We had to put an end to his affairs, and we did but his brother wasn't too happy about it. He'd done one of his tricks and manifested behind Abelia and snapped her neck. Everything for me had stopped, all I could hear was the blood in my veins. I didn't breath, I could still remember the deafining roar I had unleashed as my monster had gripped me, took the reins and killed all of the mans servants.
Blood had bathed the walls that night, not even the crickets dared to sing. The sun rose late that morning, and I sat inside this very apartment, on that very couch, and cried. For the very first time, I had cried until my eye's swelled shut, until my throat could bare no more. Until I passed out.
    "We'll get them back Cameron, don't worry. For now get some rest, we'll start investigating later tonight, I have meeting to attend," I was going to **** that ******* when I found him. He had taken my only love from me, and he would pay this time, I would make that absoultely certain. Cameron nodded and headed for the door. It was a long way back to his house, and he crossed quite a few bridges. I didn't want him making any bad decisions, " Cameron you can crash here, I have a guest room your welcome here man," I say casually so he doesn't get all prideful. He stops and looks at me for a moment then nods " Yeah, thanks man, and also thank you for agreeing to help me on this I know it's a bit of a touchy subject for you, just know i appreciate it." He made his way down the hall, I listened for the soft click of the door shuting before i went to leave.
    I grabbed my coat, and the keys to my Ducatti and ducked out the door. The hallway was long and at the end of it was two flights of srairs, I lived on the third floor. My motorcycle was parked right were I left it, it was a beauty. Black and red sleek metal and nice leather seats. I loved the bike so much I had named her Racer. I loved to drive fast, and so did she. I tore off out of the parking lot and listened to the purr of her engine on the way to Rowan's , my boss, office. It wasnt to far, but I wasn't in a rush either so i took the long road just to stall. I knew Rowan planned on giving me a partner. Probably some ****** that didnt know his way around a swiss army blade, let alone a sword. Warriors didnt use guns unless absoultely necessary. I loved the feel of my sword slicing through the air. I didn't, however, enjoy the noisy bang of a gun. A sword was like another limb, you have to trust it to take you were you need to go.
    Rowan's office light was on, and I could make out the form of three bodies. Great, I knew it, Rowan was going to assign me a partner.
I hated partners, the only one I'd ever slightly enjoyed had been Cameron. I got off my bike, patted the seat for good luck, and made my way into Rowans office. When I pulled open the door I was ready to yell at Rowan for even thinking of giving me a partner, instead i dropped my hand off the doorknob. " *******," was all I coluld say. I was stunned to silence.
To be continued! Hope I left you wanting to know more!
Linaji Nov 2011
I’ve shifted again
cloned to this moment
movement saturated with magnetic attraction
Birds clothed with daunting spiral screeches
dives
into
black berry pie

Grandma’s hands veined with my spirit
called me to the pitchers mound
I see a possibility and I aim,
my spine speaks the diatribe of loosing
but my heart is snickering like an older brother
laughing out loud, copying my every word

( I am confused and a bit angry)

this a proven tactic my world seems to set loose on my
Learning.

Right then?

I care for naught; my heart nor my head
So then I think

Who am I?

I am suspended above likeness
Above suspicion
Above the ‘norm’
I am loose and I fit into groves
like extended membrane of rats
inside the crush of cellophane noise
four years old at christmas unwrapping gifts
freely expecting life to deliver

but a father, a mother, a friend, a stranger
warps my view
black like blue

Clothed in sound
It is almost assured the sun will shine today
It is almost assured the grass will grow
It is almost assured I will become more

Scene 2: I am back on the pitchers mound
the screaming errupts
such unruly delight from the crowd of my memories
going back seems deafining

I throw the ball
I hear a crack
my within and without
assembles like crosswords on Sunday
sound becomes me
the life I know
knows me
(we’ve been friends thoughout time and beyond)

all at once I catch up to the knitting of dreams and beliefs
Into something ‘not known before’

Pearls made from sand
ENTIRE STRAND


I understand there is more than mind and heart
( blasphemy?)
I understand there is space between the moments
between breathing in and out

Oh sweet spot transition!

Crack….

Here I am

Right where I am

using the substance between the seeming separation
as starting point
of all I deem real

Linaji 2011

— The End —