Hero
I’ve been waiting so long
for a hero to save me,
a woman or a soulmate,
a friend, a god or goddess,
and when the guns were in my face,
the fists were pounding my head,
the hero who showed up
was me.
Feeling no pain, having no fear,
karate and strength and stamina,
striking fear into all enemies.
I was looking all around me
when I should have been looking
in the mirror.
I’m the one
who did the saving.
not my intention
I saw your post today.
It said that you realized that no girl ever had actual feelings for you;
that they all just used you until they found someone better.
It broke my heart.
I hope you don't think that about me.
I have loved you so intensely,
even now, when we're not together.
I can't fathom the idea of living without you,
so I watch your profile,
and like all of your posts,
but I still only get to see you in my dreams.
I love you,
and I want you to know that I always will.
I just can't keep being the one who breaks you because I'm unstable.
I hope we can work out one day,
when I've healed all my wounds,
and found ways to move past all my wrongdoings.
I truly do want to be with you,
so I'm sorry if I made you feel unloved,
or used.
It was never my intention, my love.
Mirror
I looked into a mirror that reflected the shadows in my soul.
I am really so fragile, how have I gotten so old?
I remember playing in the snow, my first kiss,
I remember my anger, my rage,
When someone called me spic and never by my name at all.
I remember the parties, the drinks finally have taken their toll,
Still I thought I'll self destruct instead I've only gotten old.
When I'm finished with a reading, they come to me,
With innocence in their questions as if I knew something at all.
I only managed to survive the drugs and the booze,
The wages of my youth.
Perhaps I have even learned a thing or two,
But I'll be damned if I recall how I got here from there
Or it it was really such a hard trip at all.
I've only lived my life the best way I knew how.
I guess I'm a survivor I just don't know why or how
So I look into this mirror,
As I hear someone calling for another story to be told.
Sinnerman, a mind horse, a sky in haiku, anxiety, stigma, and luckier than most.
The satin chalk tone of Nina Simone formed today's intro, and was followed by five pieces authored with the feel only our writers deliver, every line, every time. Led by a new kid on the block, three more add to the lift, with a close by our man of the SoCal streets, to make episode 36 one mean mofo of a show, yo... Yeah, tons of coffee...
Anyway, here's to the week ahead. Summer is officially usurping the west, and the road east is looking really good.
Here's the link to Prose. Radio.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ljZo8mlUCMg
And here are the pieces featured.
https://www.theprose.com/post/815461/mind-horse https://www.theprose.com/post/815448/a-vibrant-blue-sky https://www.theprose.com/post/815436/the-red-man
https://www.theprose.com/post/815376/stigma https://www.theprose.com/post/815402/ayahuasca-death-trip
And.
As always.
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team
The Devouring Thing
Deep in a cavern,
In the highest mountain in the world,
A fair hero entered
To find a girl.
There he knew some wretched thing
Did dwell,
Who ate the precious things
That he was brought
By treacherous bring.
Into the dark he walked,
A torch to break the soft,
Wading foul waters
Where sulked the creature oft.
A sword in hand
To ready cleanse
The pool and portent
Of the land.
He heard him creep around.
Above his head
Or on the ground
He could not tell...
Until upon his face he fell,
A smiling wretch from writhing hell,
Grinning with a foul delight,
Hungry for a light
He could not keep now for himself,
As he had fled the former blight
That, had he held,
His fight would fight.
"It treads my waters," said the thing
As it slunk around the dark.
The hero's mark he knew too well,
The fiery heart, the stalwart stark.
*****
Eric began to wade into the dank waters of the creature’s cave, sword in one hand and torch in the other. He heard the creature’s movements stop.
“It treads my waters,” said the creature.
Silence followed, and in the next instant Eric’s sword was knocked away from his hand. Something sprung from the shadows, knocking Eric on his back.
“So you want to be a mad duck?” said the wide-mouthed face of the devouring creature, menacing and excited.
It laughed like a madman as it furiously grappled with him, sinking his teeth into his neck and shoulder. Eric cried out, growling as he rolled to reach his sword. When his hand touched the hilt, the creature scurried back into the dark, laughing still.
"Where is she!" Eric shouted, coming to his feet.
The laughter turned to a hissing chuckle. "Which one? The girl or the other girl? I already ate her."
Eric's stomach turned, and for a moment he faltered. His eyes drifted, but another laugh from the creature tightened his grip on his sword.
"You lie!" he hissed.
Another hysterical laugh came from the dark. "A pagan! A pagan would say! Such sight is gone away! Come and see! Come and see..."
*****
The snows were still there when Eric left the cave.
The young girl was close at hand, shivering, but looking starkly into the cold. The other girl was not...
Oh, Wileina... Eric thought.
He cleaned the blood from his blade... red as any man's.
seasons of my heart
Winter
My heart is cold,
the outer layer dead,
blackened.
The roots survive,
hunkered down waiting for the sun
Spring
The flowers bloom,
beautiful colors fill the air.
I have found the one
who opens my petals
and lets in the sunshine
Summer
Everything is warm,
sometimes too much so.
But I keep on with the charade,
knowing what happens next.
Fall
My leaves start falling,
every lie you tell me is starting to fail.
My heart gets ready to close again,
preparing for another long winter
stuck lonely,
trying to preserve the roots for the next spring.