The Possibility of Life’s Destruction
She was bitterly cold as she lay on the wet leaves of the foreboding forest floor. The wicked grin of the pockmarked moon failed to shed any light on her plight. Why couldn’t she remember why she was here? Running her hands down her arms, she felt sticky liquid and touched her fingers to her lips to taste it. The salty, metallic taste of blood assailed her senses, bringing a wave of abject horror to the young woman.
“Help me, help me!” she moaned barely above a whisper through her cracked lips.
And then, she remembered that he said he was coming back. Desperately, she crawled to a softer patch of earth and frantically began to dig a hole with her hands until they bled. The driving rain made it almost impossible since the edges of the hole kept caving in. Reaching for some fallen branches, she laid them against the side of the widening hole to shore up the walls. She was just so tired and injured that she kept blacking out but finally was able to complete the next part of her plan. She threw jagged rocks into the pit before placing branches on top of the hole, and then scooped up wet leaves to make a covering over the cavity.
Crawling back behind the trap, she waited for him to return. Soon, she heard snapping twigs and heavy boots stomping toward her, knowing he was back. She saw the glint of a knife in his hand as he strode toward her. As he tramped angrily toward her, the roof of the trap caved in with his weight as he yelled in his surly voice, flailing arms attempting to break his fall.
Falling on the knife blade, he screamed in pain, “You bitch! Wait until I get out of here.” But of course, he couldn’t due to the severity of his injury as he thrashed in pain and died a slow death.
She smiled to herself in a sense of satisfaction as she dragged herself to the clearing where she finally remembered he had left her car. Pulling herself inside, she found the key on the floorboards, started the car and roared off. His death was no loss to the world. He was the worst husband she ever had! (and she had had many!)
If only he hadn’t discovered that she was spiking his iced tea with antifreeze!
Where No Circles Exist
Dressed as a dapper Dan,
life is tailor-made,
yet the mind,
squared,
leading in straight lines,
takes me back
to where?
Dressed as a dapper Dan,
life is tailor-made,
yet the mind
squared,
leading in straight lines,
takes me back ...
to a beginning,
constant flux,
never-ending.
Dressed as a dapper Dan,
life is tailor made ....
8/20/2018
4:28 p.m. - 4:31 p.m.
Cornered
I cannot escape my labyrinthine mind.
Every thought I have is so original
until the field changes and I am looking
with a new set of judgemental eyes.
Of course that idea was cliche!
Anyone who knows a smidge of sci-fi
could come up with aliens trapped in a race
or murderous machines that can melt into puddles.
Ever since I was little, I was a sponge.
Put something in front of me and it’s mine.
12*12=144, the moon controls tides, so much
just dumped over and over into my brain,
and now I am tasked with an original thought.
Something so simple a SpongeBob episode
only dealing with boxes could do it.
See, there it goes again!
I fear that the sponge will begin to mold,
and my thoughts will always be hackneyed.
My dreams of being a writer and rubbing
all of my success and awards in the faces
of naysayers and assholes and boring teachers
are going down the dark bottomless abyss.
I guess I should’ve realized how far the fall is
when one jumps for a star and misses entirely.
Once again, I am trapped in my mind,
wandering a corridor of exits endlessly,
looking for the one that I dreamed of.
Maybe dreams don’t come true...
Maybe dreams are just what we humans use
to forget our useless existence in our heads,
constantly wandering, ceaselessly looking
for a way to get out of the box.
Impossibly Possible
When the impossible became possible,
Many people were afraid.
When the possible seemed impossible,
The few others came to the aid.
The wind screeched and howled,
Sending people and animals running in fright,
But yet as others could attest to,
That evening was a calm evening night.
Everything and nothing happened all at once,
The land flooded and dried to a wisp,
Yet the rain was on no radar,
And the pools and lakes were full to the tip.
Yet The Man went unnoticed,
And yet was seen by foe and friend,
For this man had brought this horror,
But left them all entralled in the end.
For he had a face like no other,
For it simply could not be,
It was a face of mischief,
It was a shape of impossibility.
The shape called by a name whispered
Through fixed but destroyed streets.
Of the Impossible squared shaped head,
Of the Demon they had met, with his havoc greets.
(Critiques are appreciated, I don't know how I feel about this one...)
An Empty Truth
For though, many see him as the gentleman he portrays,
His dreams and aspirations have whithered for days.
For though, he is seen as wealthy,
The truth is, he is sadly unhealthy,
For though, he is as seen as generous,
His ego flares, ferociously,
For though good, he is percieved,
He lives twisted, never relieved
I’m Paused
Sometimes in front
Sometimes behind
one things for sure
I'm losing my mind
ears impounded I'm
over 'n out, downed
..lost 'n confounded
stitched to a donkey
..doing its business,
in proper suit and tie;
our neck of the wood
now showing through
...to my real internal
warped architecture..
I'm this x-ray shown
... with the exposure
of some kind of fraud
for whose recognition
and applause all twas
sought, 'n then sorely
found to be for naught
... I lean... as a rule ...
backward and forward
to get ahead if I could
stand and deliver that
okayed attitude...
...the desired salute...
....a left right adieu...
#ImpossibleFigures #Challenge
Disfigured
Who are you?
An entangled thought of happy and sad
Convoluted within itself?
A figure from my past
Broken dreams dressed in optimism
Caged inside my head
I look at you, I look harder
All I see is emptiness
A mind devoid of emotion
devoid of pain
devoid of love
devoid of senses
whose entity has been stripped away
κύβος
Our minds are illusions. First impressions are never the last. How come they judge me for what I am? Why, when I look in the mirror, do I see something they don’t? Why do people need time to get to know who I am? Why do people judge? They always call me by my last name. κύβος. I hate it. It’s not who I am. But I’m used to it. The world is judgemental that way. You either conform or you lose. I wish my pieaces were in place. I wish people called me by what I am. στριμμένο κύβο. I like being unideal. I like being στριμμένο.
ANOMALOUS
Trey stared at the grandfather clock. He was ready to knock off from work. Not many people showed up to the antique store on Mondays. It was always a slow sales day.
Tick-tock, went the clock. Trey couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to find something else to do, that woumd keep him busy for the remainder of the last hour.
He moved away from the counter and went into the basement. The stairs creaked, it made him feel like he was in a scary movie.
The light switch was right at the bottom of the steps to the left. Trey flicked the switch. The light flickered for a short while, then lit the room like the light of day.
Trey looked across the room. Then he noticed a giant straw-coloured sheet covering something in the corner. He slowly approached the object & pulled the cover aside. There before his eyes was a shiny mirror. It sparkled, and looked like glitter. When he focused on reflection, what he saw did not look at all like him~ his ’fro was not seen at all. What was there was some kind of optical illusion. An impossible box was right on top of his shoulders, where his head was supposed to be.
He reached out his right hand & touched the mirror. His hand passed right through it. Trey pulled his hand back out quickly. This was getting out of hand. What kind of mirror was this? Trey looked at the mirror and he noticed that it seemed to now have changed. The image of the impossible box~head on his body was gone. He was now able to see his own, true reflection.
Trey sighed. What a day. He was ready to close the store. And hopefully, he would have a normal-ish rest of his week.
#ANOMALOUS
