—————————————

DISCLAIMER:

This is a work of fiction.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

NOTE TO READERS:

Please sit back, comfortably, preferably in a comfy reading spot, kick off your shoes, & maybe read this while sipping on your favorite hot/cool drink/beverage and with a few snacks or treats nearby, too.

CHARACTERS:

Jack (a young lad; dreams of becoming a knight, but he is not of noble blood)

Diana (a young princess who just wants to break free from being within the castle~ most of the time)

—STAND BY ME.

[Curtain opens.]

{Enter fishermen, and village folks within the busy, loud, fishy marketplace that is close to the beach}

Fishermen: (chanting) O, here we go another working day in the blazing sun in the land of Pan.

Village folks: (in response) Say, fishermen, what tales do you bring from the lands across the borders, and way past across the vast seven seas?

{Enter Jack with his trusty pal named Sal}

Jack: Now look here, Sal. I have a dream of one day becoming a knight. The boldest, and bravest of any man in the land of Pan.

Sal: Jack, come now. Leave that dream only to the noble man. Think of your father, Dan. He hopes you will become a fisherman.

Jack: (scoffs) Oy. That’s not something I’d even wish even for my worst enemy.

{Enter Diana, with her p.a.}

Sal: (bows his head) Jack. Please show some respect.

Jack: To who exactly, Sal? (Stares around the marketplace like his a lost puppy).

Diana: (meets Jack’s eyes, blinks in dismay) How rude….wait until my father has your head…how dare you to not acknowledge the presence of a royal, in fact your future Queen in your presence!

Jack: (snickers) There is a royal in my presence?

Diana: (sighs) I will let you go, but only for now.

Jack winks, and waved goodbye to the princess leaving her still in a sense of disbelief of his rude behavior. No one in the rest of the entire kingdom behaves in a disgraceful manner like Jack did.

Later in the evening, Jack heads back home. Then he smiles to himself, now not only thinking of becoming a knight, but also marrying (the princess) Diana.

*********************************

Sometime close to midnight, Jack wakes up to the sound of a severe thunderstorm. One of the trees close by is about to fall onto his house. He lets out a scream calling out for his father. There is no response.

He decided to rush over to his trusty pal’s place. But he finds the place empty. He decides to dash over back to the marketplace, there something, or someone catches his eye.

Jack thinks he has spotted the princess, Diana. He pulls her out of harms way right before a heavy branch comes flying out of nowhere.

The princess seems to be out of sorts. She can’t seem to realize that she is standing outside in a thunderstorm.

Jack tries to cover the princess’ head, and then something hits him hard right on the back of his neck. He stumbles backward, and now sees that the princess is not there anymore. Instead he is staring at a seven foot tall monster that looks like a griffin. The creature pecks at Jack’s face using its beak, and tears his skin with its sharp talons.

It flapped its wings, and carried Jack into the air. Then dropped him into the raging waters by the marketplace.

[Curtain closes]

FIN.

08.05.2025 Thorsday.

#CORVUS:PAN.

not one drop of sweat

(especially on hot humid and hazy days)

less than a gallon

exudes forth from my pores

but nevertheless

I can single handedly manage...

primary idiopathic palmar/

palmoplantar hyperhidrosis.

Aforementioned physiological malady

unwanted and unwonted figurative

(metaphorical) beast of burden

linkedin with matrix constituting mine

corporeal essence genetically

gifted to yours truly,

invariably, objectionably,

and unquestionably

afflicts, impacts, and upsets

emotional (mental) health

diagnosed with

schizoid personality disorder.

Tis no fun when unable

to join in any reindeer games

(actually quite aggravating)

to experience chronic instances,

whereby profuse sweat drips

(think rivaling Angel Falls),

the loftiest falls on land

inducing extreme self

consciousness and embarrassment.

Socialization compromised,

jeopardized, and sabotaged

against natural proclivity to fraternize,

thus avoidance behavior

(i.e. social distancing) rigorously practiced

way before coronavirus (COVID-19)

mandated staying at least 6 feet

(about 2 arm's length) from other people.

I vaguely recollect even while in utero

sweaty hands cooled courtesy amniotic fluid

yet subsequently observing consternation

obstetrician displayed as

itty bitty teensy weensy fingers

dripped - think faucet turned on full force.

Mein kampf (predominantly

describes solitary existence)

severely exacerbated (still prominent)

ability to function undermined

courtesy deux part and parcel

significant aforestated physiological

and social congenital afflictions

somewhat ameliorated by

about half dozen

plus three prescription medications,

one of which includes glycopyrrolate

typically one of the first treatments

for craniofacial hyperhidrosis

(excessive sweating of the face and head)

and the second or third treatment

for palmar, plantar, or axillary hyperhidrosis

(excessive sweating of the palms,

soles, and armpits).

I keep hermetically sealed

within our single bedroom apartment

(we lucked out with unit B44

providing us scenic view)

then (at the initial

crafting of bulk of this poem)

climate controlled at sixty degrees Fahrenheit

(you do the math to figure

the Centigrade temperature),

nevertheless these

five fingered appendages

ooze perspiration on par

with spigots gushing sweat.

Worse fate than death finds me

suffering one or more

dogged following plagues:

water turning to blood, frogs, lice,

flies, livestock pestilence, boils, hail,

locusts, darkness and killing

of firstborn children far less oppressive

versus being stricken with Hyperhidrosis.

Sain above identified unpleasant fallout

understandably, quintessentially, and inextricably

linkedin within every fiber

moost likely activated since conception - mine

body electric infiltrated nerve wracking

complex corporeal edifice

interestingly enough solely overbearing

while yours truly wide awake

bright tailed and bushy eyed,

yet sleep ofttimes brings

severely dislocating, disquieting

and discombobulating

subconscious nocturnal experiences,

which frightful, maniacal, and

phantasmagorical vivid dreams

undermines, oppresses, and impinges,

any joie de vivre

creating abominable hell on Earth

thus this dirt poor commoner

pronouncing his intent

to beg, borrow and/or steal

(sell my soul to the devil)

in a desperate effort to secure

and pay King's ransom

to rid myself once and for all

of parasite entrenched nemesis

bleeding dry, leeching, and yoking

writer christened Matthew Scott Harris,

whereby he doth regularly writhe in agony.

I’m sorry everything is so hard right now. I know it’s all piling up and feels impossible to live through.

But,

one day soon it will be

warm

everyday

and we will sit and

have our coffee in the sun

maybe everything will still be going

wrong

but we will do it together

as we always have

we’ll be eating

sun-warmed strawberries

before you know it

yours,

entirely

Degradation of life

Rotten government

A perfumed corpse

The sweet smell

Of inherent corruption

That runs deep

To the very core

Of its being

Instituting

The decay of society

Libertine individuals

Unscrupulous politicians

Enlightened despotism

Paradoxical actions

Of bureaucratic control

Do as I say

Not as I do

I remember drunken writes

and broken days,

slurred poetry

and you always understood

the nonsense.

I bought you cookies once,

when you were at your lowest.

You didn't know I was too.

You held those crumbs,

grateful,

I was just glad that

it meant something.

We were etched in ink,

But more.

We were family in our own way.

You called me razzle

I called you an asshole.

We both laughed.

Ill miss our banter

The most.

And your stories in that

slurred southern accent.

And

Writing nonsense in gravity.

The sister I never had.

Wish I'd said it.

At least once.

Feels like a version of me

is lost with you.

One of my favorite parts.

I guess that's why we kill flowers.

Those wilting blooms are for those

That are forced to stay behind.

A reminder.

And So My flower fades.

And I say goodbye.

Knowing that part of me

Will follow you into the dirt,

My favorite friend.

I hope they serve cookies

Where u are.

And I hope they have strippers

And Woodford.

Thank you for everything.

I promise I will never forget

"Old Shells"

May the best of me

follow you down.

Or at least try.

And I will walk away

missing something.

No one will ever hit on my wife

Quite like you.

Or call me a dumbass

when I ramble.

You meant more

than I ever said.

And I'm sorry.

And So My flowers wilt.

May they follow you forever.

My dear friend.

Goodbye. And thank you

for all of it.

For everything to come

Thank you.

My dearest Shells.

Home

My advice to Henry

April 13, 2025

The lights are on

The doors are unlocked

Welcome is an idea

Not just a doormat

I could wait forever

For you to catch a clue

There is someone at the door

Someone who wants in

Another decision to make

With a cost

Of the previous six years

And the memories made

Versus the allure of a new future

On a well-worn path

This time with someone new

Someone looking as I am looking

So, the time is now

I can look through the window

But, I have to open the door

To know if I will make the right choice

Six years ago

You were at the door

My decision was correct

At the time

Now, you are absent

Now, her voice mouths, “Please”

My hand is on the doorknob

Reset the clock for this cabin

Too much too fast, I do it every time

I get locked in and can never leave

It's made a mess of my heart and mind.

I don't do casual, for now, or maybe

Yet I never make it clear

And when the for now is over

My forever disappears

She fell asleep within a dream

of her trying to escape.

A nightmare it seemed,

Within this dream she saw a girl get raped.

To escape this tragedy

She started to dream of a party

But she wasn't invited.

A fight broke out, someone got

hurt and someone was indicted.

Her dream pattern was getting worse but she couldn't open her eyes.

She continued to dream, while crying inside she struggled to be awakened.

But the spiralling of her dreams

Showed her that she was truly mistaken.

She escaped that dream and went into a dream of her taking a drive.

But in this dream she drove off a bridge which led to her demise.

On Friday February 31st of 2025 we lost Mrs. Annie B. Long. She was born September 22, 1925.

Mrs. Long would've been a centurion this year. She worked most of her productive years as a teacher with the Hanover Virginia Education System. She gave most of her spare time to volunteering at the after school programs at the YWCA helping students of all ages with their homework.

Mrs Long was a proud mother of two children. She will be an angel for her daughter, Kathy Long and her twins Helen and Holly. Also she will be an angel for her son David Long Jr. and his son Jasper.

She also leaves behind three sisters, Jackie Hall, Joyce Cane, and Kim Bridges. She will be a guiding light for 11 nieces and nephews. She also leaves many friends and distant family as well.

Mrs. Annie Long wanted her family to celebrate her introduction to heaven at her wake which will be held at the Bishop Funeral Home at 3201 Park Ave Henrico, VA. 23228

Remembering Mrs. Long is missing her famous apple pie and her friendly smile whenever she came around. You will never be forgotten, Mrs. Annie B. Long