Shaded Perceptions

…As he is walking out another is hurriedly walking in… The mystery seems to comes full circle…

Eyes open to view a ceiling in black and white. Then we see the character lying on his back. Cole is lying in bed next to his wife. She sleeps, facing him. He turns towards her as she slowly wakes. They exchange morning greetings, then she turns to back him and returns to her sleep. He gets up, puts on his glasses, and looks across the room at the wall where we see a pinboard full of colorful fun pictures of the happy couple. Then his focus shifts to his side table to a letter. We don’t see the full letter. What is visible is the letterhead of a hospital and then the word “appointment” in the subject of the letter. He gets up and slowly walks to the bathroom. 

The scene cuts to him brushing his teeth. The wife walks in still groggy and reaches for her toothbrush. We then move to a scene of the couple hand in hand in prayer. In the next scene the man makes ready for work and his wife is getting his lunch bag ready. He comes into the kitchen to say goodbye. She kisses him as she hands him the lunch bag, and as  they share another quick kiss goodbye, she tells him to stay safe. 

Next scene we see him settle into his office work space, and then our vision is turned to his work board displaying pictures of him and his wife and colorful post-its containing bible quotes on faith  pinned on it. Cole is a data analyst working in an IT company with a number of staff on his floor and with an open office space structure. 

 In the next scene he takes his time as he slowly rounds-up from work. In the background, you can hear colleagues laughingly shutting down as well. He hears someone leaving and making an obvious exit to the team, but doesn’t pay much attention to it. The scene cuts to him saying goodbye in slang – “e go be” as he cautiously steps out of a pub (bar). He is sober. As he is walking out another is hurriedly walking in, and as the door shuts behind him, he hears people in jubilation. He gets into his car and drives off, and then the scene cuts to him walking into his apartment. The wife has made meal for him and laid it on the dinner table. There is a note on the table “hi hon! not feeling so good and already in bed. please have something to eat okay. Love, love!”

The scene changes again to him walking into his bedroom. His wife is lying  asleep in bed, facing his side of the bed and with her bible wrapped in her arms. He leans over to give her a kiss on her cheek. The scene cuts to him in his pyjamas and brushing his teeth. He then gets into bed, takes off his glasses, and lays on his back once again, we see him face the ceiling. He shuts his eyes and the scene fades to black.

The scene slowly opens as the apartment door opens and the wife walks in dragging in light luggage. He follows even slower and with an unsure demeanour. She asks him if he would like to eat. He says he is not hungry. The scene changes to a hospital scene, the doctor is talking to his wife. “temporary amnesia is not uncommon after such procedures Mrs. Cole, just give him time… Patience is key.

The scene cuts to them getting ready for bed. He is in his pyjamas and quickly lays in bed. His discomfort is obvious as he turns to his side, backing his wife. She walks out of the bathroom from cleaning her teeth. She asks for them to pray, and he responds “I’m not in the mood.” She goes ahead to kneel and pray while he sleeps, and the scene slowly fades.

The next scene opens up with the man walking into a pub hailing some men by the bar. They retaliate, and as he walks over, they give him a welcome “guy” hug. Then we see them gyrate and drink. As the night progresses, there’s talks and jokes. The scene becomes more focused, and then we hear one of the guys  joke about Cole’s choice of drinks… Guys, which one wey come our level?, na wa o!  Cole in turn laughingly responds “ I be pastor?” he then make jokes of how even his wife is always trying to get him to pray these days. Then in the same vein, one of the friends asks why he is now acting as though he is not the crew’s “ordained”. “Speaking of which, did you hear about ….?”. The room gets loud as a hoard of new customers enter the bar. He does not catch the last statement, and they are soon distracted by the new faces. The night goes on in fun and drink as the scene fades.

In the next scene, tipsy, he is trying to get into his car in the park, and the scene shifts to the friends saying bye in the bar, and the man confirming that he will be resuming at the office on Monday. Scene reverts back as the car speeds off.

The next scene, he walks into the bedroom pretty tipsy. His wife is lying backing him. Eyes open and with tears running down her face, she prays silently. He slumps next to her, and as her eyes shut, the scene slowly fades.

The next scene, he hurriedly gets his things and is rushing out for his resumption at the office. His wife stops him gently in his track and asks if he will take his lunch bag. He has also forgotten his glasses. He takes them reluctantly with a word of thanks. She then asks if she can pray for him as he resumes work. Once again he is reluctant, but says yes. They hold hands, and then she begins by thanking God for the blessings of life and then goes on to pray for his first day back since the whole experience. They share a Christian brother and sister hug, and then he leaves. 

Scene cuts to him getting in the car, and in the car, he pauses for a few seconds in thought. The glasses sit uncomfortably on his face. He then starts the car and starts to reverse. Scene cuts to him walking into a story building. He clocks into the building, and the security guard offers a welcome. He smiles in thanks. 

Then we have a scene of him in the elevator with a look of anticipation. Holding his glasses in hand along with his bag pack he then walks out and buzzes into the office. Stepping in, he is given a surprise welcome by the team. A welcome back banner hangs across the wall and float ing balloons hit the ceiling. Smiling, he looks up at the colorful sight. Colleagues circle round him, and then slowly allow him move to his desk. As he walks, he unconsciously takes a different direction from his workspace, but is quickly corrected by a teammate who jokingly says “ahn ahn, guy! Time done pass like dat?”. They laugh as he finds his actual seat by locating the work board holding his pictures and bible quotes. Taking a seat he admires his workspace and work board. It’s got pretty pictures of the Mrs and love. He then settles down to resume work.

In the next scene, the man is packing up along with his colleague. Friendly banter ensues, including how he feels about his first-day return to the 9 to 5 life. He puts on his bag pack, and as he starts to walk away from his desk, he returns suddenly to pick up the glasses. He walks towards the exit and  pauses to look at the announcement board when he notices a smiling face. A feeling of recognition comes over him. He knows that face! “Gone but not forgotten” is written beneath the picture. “Who is that?” He asks a colleague who’s walking past him and towards the elevator. The colleague stops and turns. It’s one of the men at the bar and specifically, the one that asked him the question he never got to hear or answer. The scene goes back to that night. In all the jubilant commotion, we zoom into the colleague as he completes his question. in all the noise his mouth takes the shape of his words, unheard … “Tobi Oguns” and the picture immediately cuts back to the picture on the board, and you see the name below the picture, “Tobi Oguns”

A look of terror floods his face, he staggers a few steps back and then turns back to walk toward the direction he had actually wanted to go earlier that day. He finds himself at Tobi’s desk and then it dawns on him. Memories flood back in disjointed flashes – moments of laughter, shared projects, and both Cole and Tobi in the same social gatherings but never really fraternising. In one of the flashes we are back at the previous office scene where Cole is shutting down and we hear that anonymous person exit the office. Our view shifts to boisterous Tobi saluting his office people as he leaves. In a final memory, we are back at the setting where Cole is leaving the bar, and the person hurriedly walks past, shutting the door. In the bar, we see Tobi raise his hands to hail his colleagues/buddies and in return, we hear a roar of salutation. Rushing out as though he has encountered a ghost, he heads home. 

In the next scene Mrs. Cole is seated in the parlor, busy on her laptop. She hears the jingle of keys, the lock clicks and her husband slowly makes his way into the house. Dragging his feet he stands before her. She looks up from the couch where she is seated lazily and yet hard at work. There is silence for a moment, and then Cole, shedding a tear asks with a husky but soft voice, “why?”. 

The scene moves to both of them seated side by side on the couch. Cole slouching, head in hand. Mrs. Cole talks about the surgery and how it had been a success but had come with its ordeals. The memory loss, the stranger he had become… we then see flashbacks of him after his operation in the hospital. Hysteria due to amnesia during recovery; We return to the scene where the Doctor tells his wife that this reaction was not unheard of after such a procedure, and how it would be temporary. We hear “patience is key” as we cut back to the present. Back in the present they are silent, both looking to the ground. Cole stuttering then tries to mutters “ I’m, I’m not…. At least I think I am not…”, but she cuts in with an “I know” as she looks ahead of her. 

Scene cuts to his wife on a call from the hospital. A donor had been found and  Cole’s operation had been scheduled for that night. Her prayers had been answered. Cole would be getting a real heart, instead of a pacemaker, of which the procedure had been planned for that same day. She falls to the floor with the phone still in her hand and kneels to thank her Maker. 

In the same hospital, a stretcher is being pushed into the emergency room. As they speedily cruise toward emergency the patient’s bloodied hand falls to the side, and on his wrist, we catch a glimpse of the bloodied wrist band and on a part not covered in blood is spelt Tobi. We come back to the present scene and with tears running down her face, she completes her sentence. “you are not my Cole, you are not my husband”. The mystery seems to comes full circle.… “Well, you are physically,” she continues, “but not as the one who speaks to me”. She reminds him about the surgery and all that ensued. He then remembers waking up from the operation. Scene turns dark, and eyes open to see the ceiling, in color. He looks around and doesn’t recognize anything or anyone. He feels like he is somewhere else, but where or as who, he cannot tell. They then turn to look at each other in the present. Staring into his eyes, she then says “Is he still in there? Is he with you?”.  Taken aback by this statement, he stands and storms out of the house. 

We cut to him in the usual bar that turns out to be the in the same building as his office. He is drinking away his sorrow when he feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s his colleague from the other night. Ol’boy watin dey? Guy how far na! You done dey drink like dis now?! This Tobi’s demise really hit you hard o! I mean I honestly thought you knew! I even asked you that night we were here if you heard about it. 

Scene cuts back to the bar once again when he says the name. This time his shouting voice filters through the noise …. “Tobi Oguns”, but of course Cole does not catch it. We come back to the present, and Cole/Tobi is still at a loss. His friend then tells him to snap out of it! Abi you sad say as an “ordained” wey done dey come this bar you no save the guy soul? I beg leave that matter o! Tobi may have been a “guy” man, or “not saved or born again” as you would put it, but he had a heart of Gold. I even heard that he gave up his organs to be donated. Cut to the scene of the bloodied hand band, signifying he was an organ donor. We hear his friends say, “You sef fit do am… Accepting your mortality like dat? “. The scene of the bloodied band quickly fades to black.

Jump to the next scene, we find Cole back at that moment when they pass each other at the bar door, but this time there is a pause and they both turn to look at each other. He wakes suddenly and finds he has slept off at the bar. Now a bit sober he picks up his keys and we see him leave the bar to head home. 

Scene cuts to the Cole/Tobi slowly walking into the bedroom to find his wife kneeling in prayer. He walks sloppy into the bathroom and toward the sink. The sound of running water hit the air and we see him staring at himself through the fogging Mirror. He then proceeds to splash the heated water on his face as a last effort to wake from the dream he thinks he is in. Nothing! And just as he is about to drown once again in confusion and despair, he sights his partner from the Sink mirror on her knees.  We see his eyes and face muscles soften like that of a Child’s as he turns around and walks towards this praying woman. He then asks softly,  “can I join you… can you please teach me how to pray?” She looks up at him from her position of prayer. She then reaches up to take his hands and brings him slowly to his knees and next to her. There they assume the position of prayer. 

The scene fades and moves to a stream of scenes of days going by. From  scenes of the couple praying, to a scene of Cole at his daily job and there he pays tribute to Tobi by signing in his condolence book; Cole at the bar with his friends, a soft in hand and looking happy and sober. They chat and gesticulate and soon they all share a hearty laugh. 

We cut back one final time to the scene at the bar door and this time the pause between the two is long enough for Tobi to look Cole in the eyes and mutely say “Thank you”. Cole gives a smiles of understanding.  They both turn and walk their different paths. The scene fades to black.

The final scene opens with Cole lying on his back in bed with his wife lying back turned to him. Morning slowly  creeps in. We see his eyes  open and we quickly switch to his view of the ceiling. The world appears once again in monochrome. We see his hand reach for the glasses, and as they fall to his face we witness as his world is turned to colour.

The scene slowly fades to black.

SHADED PERCEPTIONS

By 

Upe Amoniya Otaru 😉

ANOTHER untitled dream work…

abstract architecture building business
Photo by Snapwire on Pexels.com

“you’re at it again! you’ve been in one of them haven’t you?” She walks past with the groceries towards the kitchen counter.

He jumps off the couch, hurriedly taking them off. 

“Its not what it looks like! I made an executive decision, seeing that this one was about to “off “himself… Seemed like he had doubts about it and needed a helping hand, and I, I felt I could be that helping hand. You know, being that I’ve always wanted a go at one of those scenarios.” 

Trying to hide a growing smirk, but failing at it, he turns  and walks towards the bar.

She’s at the counter, groceries now on display. Mind between present conversation and what dinner should look like in an hour.

“I can’t do this right now! …You know what? I’m just going to have to leave you to your own devices, but mind you, we’re human, just like them. Did you even pause to consider that that MAN at the very last minute could have had a re-think of his actions? And if he did then what would that make you? Yeah! yeah!… a cold blooded KILLER!

Now standing at the bar, he’s pouring himself a drink of scotch. 

YO! that’s cutting it a bit too deep babe. I tell you, there is NO WAY this guy was going to change his mind. I’m F..ing sure of that. I’d been in that mind of his enough times to know that the world out there was getting to the poor bastard. Besides, I’m sure his re-occurring dreams of heaven, by heave I mean here, left him wanting more out of that slum of a life of his.

“Wait a minute, you mean you brought hime HERE?!” The information overload leads to a fire in her chest that needs quenching. She walks up to him with a look of surprise and disgust, snatches the drink from his hand and walks back towards the kitchen area gulping it down in one violent go.

He continues, “Look it was only his mind I allowed here. I was sure to switch to paralysis mode each time I left him here, trust me. I left his eyes and senses to wonder, but never the possession of my body.”

“And just how many times did you put him through that”, she said “HOW MANY TIMES?”

I don’t know! …6, 7 times? about an hour or 2 for each session, I guess. 

He pours himself another scotch. As he sips on it he reminisces, “O there’s this one time I had him here for over A DAY! Man, that was one fine experience out there”. He’s got that smirk again, but this time he stares into his glass with a far away look in his eyes as though back outside and in that moment.

She pauses cutting the vegetables, and with the same look of disgust she says “And you wonder why he wanted to commit suicide. You practically had that man feeling helpless. YOU TREATED HIM LIKE A FUCKING PUPPET. GOD!” She returns to cutting but with more vigour this time.

He hurries to hold her by her shoulders and looking into her eyes he says “ babe, babe, look, you need to understand. It gets really boring around here. Sometimes a guy needs  to take the edge off, you know what I mean?”. 

Then just drink already! You seem pretty good at that so far. Just don’t indulge in an already hellish environment by making the lives of those stuck there more unbearable for them. Realising herself for his grip she gasps, slamming a fist at ceramic cutting table; knife in the other hand.

“I honestly cannot believe you have the nerve to be all casual about this”. Point the knife in his direction. “Do you not understand what you are doing? And the length that you would go to lay the foundations of a suicide scenario. DON’T, even try denying it! We both know you only focused on that one specimen all because you intended to drive him to that point where he’d spiral, leading him to that last moment of despair.”

This time he gasps, trying to fake the horror of such an accusation, but at the last second he does a flip. “Well Brrravo DICK Tracy, Y’gat me! I must applaud you and your act of sanctimoniousness. Okay, so I took the liberty of running this little project on just one of the billions left behind in that hell hole. So what?!

You of all people know the shit guys in here pull in order to get off, taking up numbers of specimen at a time if they want. I’ve managed to keep it minimal and you want to – judge – ME? COME ON!

Its crazy enough that we stay stuck in this place telling ourselves we are safe from all the madness out there. All the pollution, all the violence!” Throwing his glass against the wall “Well it violent in here!” he growls, pointing feverishly at his temple. 

He leans up against the wall in need of support for his now buckling knees and slowly crumbles to the ground. “I ca.., I can’t breathe babe. How, how do you do it, this… this composure of yours?” Now he’s rambling “an.., and they’re so near and yet so far!? I can almost touch them, can almost taste it, all the “life” that comes with sacrifice of being out there amongst the filth. I mean, we only need to open the door to be a part of them right?. In a persona of exhaustion he says “You may not get this, but zombie mode is the only way I keep myself from actualising what I helped that guy do today….”

“Dinner is ready!” she says, walking past him toward the table with a dish of whatever sustenance she’s got whipped up. In an unsettling composure like that of a Stepford wife, she fixes him a plate and then steadily floats towards him. She then kneels to meet his tired gaze, dish in hand. Laying the plat on the ground, she lovingly strokes his now sweaty face, “You are tired honey, what say we turn in for the night. You know… I’m not judging you or anything, I just need you to take on a different perspective on being here. This place… its technology, it makes gods of us all, but the price we pay… it takes that of a formidable mind to survive it all… the confinement, the solitude, the monotony? She sighs as though tired of trying to make him understand.  “Come on”. Taking him by the arm she forces him up, greeting him with a long kiss. A smooch more of compassion than passion. 

Later on that evening…

The room illuminates and a female figure is seen moving towards the couch where he earlier sat carrying out his arguable feat. Looking down at the couch she reminds herself, “It takes a formidable mind”. She does a great job at concealing how encaged she feels within these walls, during the day, but at night is where she will need all her strength. A formidable mind will keep you sane within these walls, yes, but it takes an even more capable and adept mind to puppet an animal specimen versus a human one. 

Despite the challenges that come with indulging in the use of animal forms, one of them being the gradual eroding of moral sensitivity, she’d opt for it any time. Her basis for this decision, that humans themselves are trapped within an invisible barrier by their own conventions and conformities.

Now jacked up to the device she seizes control of her chosen beast for the night and with it she runs free. On some nights she’ll hunt; on others she becomes the hunted. The near death experience when being put to the slaughter; the pain of child birth, these are just a few of the scenarios in her bouquet of experiences she may pick and choose from each night. And lets not forget those evenings when she’s left at the mercy of her partner’s poor bed habits… this being one of them. She’s got the option of finding a mate or two during the course of the rest of the night. 

…But tonight, tonight  she’s got a different taste on her mind; on her tongue… 

MAN…

*THE END*

… on inspiration’s Isle she waits that she may embrace unorthodoxy…

Lo…Ust!

Those hands and lips that did me much pleasure
That tongue that roamed living me in a state of leisure
You were my drug, my dose of ecstasy
In moments passion I look down upon our bodies
joined as one and I crave this eternity

But is it fate for me?
Is it meant to be?
So says fate

“Nay, only futility
Sure sex is sweet fruit yet as candy too much-too bad for the tooth”

The taste of your juice- mouth, skin and down under
The feel of you, my mind and body shudder-I wonder
could you be my thunder?
If so then I seek for it to Rrrain forever!!!
My avenging angel by Eros sent to subdue my cares
momentarily as we mesh undoubtedly in the bosom of ecstasy

bigstock-Love-in-text-15394607I wanting you, you wanting me, this just has to be Lo… Ust!
So where is the Love?
Question that echoes ever so faintly as we fashion our interpretation of “Love”

bigstock-Lust-44528956Please make a way for fate to say we are worthy
To lose you would hurt me
What to do with these feelings that corrupt me
Cursed ’cause I’m craving your body
while true love is on the high seas…
O HEAVEN HELP ME!

Ligo Haibun Challenge- Dewdrops

Googled!

“…for the Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there was not a man to till the ground, but there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground.” – Genesis 2:5&6

She longs to catch a glimpse of what might have been…

Rising long before the Sun,  just as creation made her, she steps out of her abode and onto the freshly cut lawn- The silent twilight greeting her.

Only moments outside, yet all too quickly her skin is wrapped in  perspiration, not of her own but Gaya’s- Fresh and cool; Wet grass embracing her feet- The total experience causing her to shiver… She’s cold. Finally bearing witness to Genesis 2:6The Mist that waters the face of the Earthlay thick in the atmosphere and all around her.

She stills her naked body in the middle of the open space and is cloaked by the light fog around her; Eyes closed, she fills her lungs with Gaya’s cold breath- Embracing the silence of the slowly coming Morn.

…. In that moment she is in Eden.

Tears mix with Dewdrops...
 Insanity born from faith
 ...Her faith... her madness.
Ligo Haibun Challenge- Dewdropsligo-challenge_logo

Melt – The Līgo Haībun Challenge

4:00 P.M– Just getting off work, she races down the road and towards the Bus stop. She’s almost there, but NOT- then her bus begins to move. She arrives at the spot only to meet the butt of the vehicle fading into the corner of the street, that would mean an hour and a half of her waiting for another transit in her direction. Frustrated, she curses. Its lonely at the station so a walk in the cannabis field is the perfect remedy for her foul mood. Sitting in a waiting chair, legs crossed, she reaches into her bag for a stick; Lights it up and drags-

In goes the poison and out her frustration.

The session is almost heavenly. Melting in her seat she  tastes the evening breeze. Dreamily she pays attention as the light from her stick illuminate in the evening hue, its soft feathery haze lifting through the atmosphere;

Inhale, Exhale

Her nerves untwine as the intoxicating odor of perspiration, hers, mixed with fumes of the slowly diminishing stick fills her nostrils. Utter bliss as she sits melted in her waiting chair-  Even the wind amongst the trees offer the symphony of Handel’s Messiah… or is that just in her head? …

˜˜

From euphoric dance
  Toots from a horn break the spell  
  ...Damn reality!

__________________________________________

New Challenge for 2013 but I still have love for my people at the dVerse bar 😉

Thanks Captain!!!! 🙂

Ligo Haibun Challenge here

ligo-challenge4fe8a923839c2_261382n

***The Līgo Haībun Challenge normally has a word limit of up to 220 words or less inc the haiku***

READ ABOUT HAIBUN HERE

READ EXAMPLES OF HAIBUN HERE

Haībun is Prosimetric writing. The haībun format for the Līgo Haībun Challenge is as follows ~

paragraph (more than one paragraph is fine,or justa few sentences) in prose form of either

  • a descriptive passage , or excerpt from a story/or previously published post 
  • a tale
  • a travelogue
  • a news item
  • a recipe

and

the haiku to close

 

Masochist

Heart wound  barbed wire.Heart plays Pin-cushion

A “Sub” to Love, savage

Finding comfort in her bondage

Pleasure in the pain

Suffering abusive shame..

˜˜

Continue reading “Masochist”

An untitled dream work…

How do I tell a story of night, what words would truly express the moment’s horror? Lend me your thoughts and I will borrow you my imagination, if only for you to experience fully the act that is to ensue.
This is a story of  one, once man…
Now immortal…
One cursed…

(Please listen as you read)

……

Steal away with me into the night

to a Bastion beyond  many hills, where

darkness looms, time stands still

a realm of the no longer beating heart

to the land of  a damned immortal

… a creatures of the night

Walk with me through these dark corridors

Hold your torch o so tightly…

Its fainting walls whispering tales of centuries

Weakened structures caked with dust

Listen to the moaning winds…

or could it be the many ghosts that hunt its halls?

Into the belly of the fortress we make our  way,

Down winding stairways,

through darkened passages

Hold your torch O so tightly…

Come to rest at the foot of iron gates, shut.

Peer through the gaps to find a  roofless chamber

its filthy, cracked walls bare no corners.

Moon beams pierce the darkness of this dungeon devoid of shade.

At first sight  we see nothing but space and time,

a visiting rodent sneaks a look through the cracks.

Focus still and bring your attention to the heap of ash on the stoney grounds.

Ashes  and Silence…

A scream suddenly breaks through the hush

Shrieks that make even the moaning winds give ear

The remains slowly taking form.

Life reaching  from the depths of hell

… or is it… life?

A TORTUROUS TRANSFIGURATION WE SEE

as dust is molded into flesh and bone.

With every capillary formed, for

every flesh mounted are the painful howls 

and constricting twists and turns…

FINALLY! … Finally, returns the hush,

the transformation lay still and

we hear the winds resume its tales

The object becomes animate, as

though awoken from Hades grip.

Sitting erect, the being looks towards the gate, towards

you and I

Behold the paleness of his face, his

eyes cold as death and yet divulging torment, and

with such deep sorrow he says

This is my fate did you know

to be cursed as Prometheus

Yet even he bore a better fate than I.

For I already damned am therefore damned a second time.

Once man, now soulless creature of evening…

He sites his noble visitor making its way back into the cracks

and with the agility of a lioness he pounces.

The meal he finishes all too quickly.

Signaling in our direction he speaks once again

You would be my first choice but for these accursed bars…

hence reduced to a scavenger am I…

His emaciated form circles the room in an almost zombie like manner

He awaits the Sun…

I await the sun…

The night sky,

She is beautiful is she not?

Day light greets me and

yet I can say very light of it majesty but

plenty of its horror

In this  prison, naked to the sky

condemned am I to be tortured as Helios rages on.

My flesh melts before my very eyes

and what is left of my soul is torn to a thousand pieces

His laments, shrill…

What would Prometheus know of pain?!

Zeus is less a devil than my captor!… These walls!

O that my ashes be scattered to the four winds to end my suffering!

FREE ME!!!

His monologue is halted by the flicker of light from the east.

Dawn approaches, and

with it his executioner … A ball of fire

His eyes resume the horror from the moment he woke

Now frantically  wandering the room as though in search of a place to hide,

Psychological torture besest him as he envisages the pain soon to come.

We watch as though through a peep hole  of a sanitarium, this

tortured soul kicking and screaming, violently

throwing himself against the chamber walls

(…. So this is the cause of such filth and wreckage)

No white, softly padded walls to cushion his impact,

No straight jacket to prevent him cutting and scratching, that

he does in order to sensitize himself towards the impending affliction.

With the last vestige of courage he raises his voice:

SUN BE DAMNED TO HELL!

 He then curls up like a child in where he best assumes a corner

as one defeated.

Cradling himself he mutters:

No more, No more…

The Sun slowly bearing its face, its

rays descend the Vampire’s uncovered tomb.

Cradling even faster,

His words more audios

NO MORE!

NO MORE!!

NO MORE!!!

NO MORE!!!!

Witness his backward transition

Melting flesh and bone,

to blood,

to ash.

Torturous screams return this shredded soul once again to temporary death.

A heap of dust once more, Silence

fills the room

Helios smiles down on what is left of our performer

As all the world is a stage

We applaud, You and I, and

then depart through the dark and twisted maze

of imagination’s fort.

Hold your torch o so tightly

“Everything you can imagine is real.”
Pablo Picasso

ABDUCTION Fable

Nay not ever the same, seized
From Gaya’s bosom, snatched
As she slumbered, luminosity
And then a pause, theories of
Time dismissed as time becomes abyss.

Celestial captors poking-prodding, she
Much ado’s about nothing, mentally
Floating, dreamy sensations cold as death-hot
As hell, barely conscious she dreams of
Beaming lights, silhouettes of demons
Peering over her naked form, Fighting
her unconsciousness, a scared lab rat
Nibbling at its cage.

No recollection, yet the stimuli of
trial and error she suffers, faceless fiends
having their way with mortality, all
In the name of curiosity, casting
Aside mere sapiens at whim, returning
Them to theoretical reality, such is she
Chucked back into the ordinary without
Memory, yet she is nay, not ever the same….

Victoria is discussing Enjambment and Steampunkery on dVerse Poets so I’ve written this “WEIRD PIECE” as an enjambment (I HOPE! 😀 … Not quite clear about this form just yet). I am very open to healthy criticism so please, don’t be a stranger 🙂
Cheers! 😉

It happened somewhere in the red light district….

A chaste brethren lay fallen tonight
in a corner room, in a district of red light

Wondering on actions that lead to this
the moment still fresh, he reminisce

Like delicate orbs wrapped in silken case
Delicious juices her carriages laced

The sweetest nectar from her breasts did he taste
To ecstasy’s gates his sensations raced

As though Lucid but still awake
In her fountains he finds his honey filled lake

His very first of such experience met,
skill in her torso turns him flounder in her net

Caution to the wind; mind set on fire
as he bites of the forbidden fruit in mindless desire

Finally an end comes to all good things
now on his back, the angel with broken wings

Tortured by the thought of a night passion’s end
with this lady of the night with a baby to tend

A photograph taken of the Red Light District i...
A photograph taken of the Red Light District in Amsterdam. It is also known as the “Wallen”. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Those Five Little Words… No, Six!

I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!

 I thought the human race being the intelligent creatures we are, usually invent and come up with the easiest and shortest ways around  situations!? We got tired of candles, someone invented the light bulb; We got tired of walking, people started coming up with all modes of transportation. In the new age of texting we’ve come up with slangs such as “brb” , “ttyl” and “lol” just so we don’t have to go through the rigors of bogus words and sentences (yawning lazily); Microchips have shrunken to the Nano and so on…. So how is it that a simple 3 word sentence like “I love you” gets to be stretched out to one of 5 or 6 words instead? Well I have a theory…

The Player of the Middle Ages

It turns out that the phrase “fall in love” is  connected to the idea of “falling head over heels,” which was used in the 1300s, and is another term for being struck suddenly by great romantic attraction to someone else. (Excerpt from wisegeek.com)

The key phrase here is “Romantic attraction” people. What is that?! You either love the person or you don’t! Or why not just say “I’m romantically attracted to you”, and quit confusing people? Its all based on chemicals I tell you!

Okay back to the subject matter… my theory of the origin of this appalling modification.

Well there is no easy way for me to say this but if this sentence can actually be linked back to the 1300s then I believe it was coined up by some womanizing Knight, for some unfortunate fair maiden. No, scratch that! More a Troubadour than a Knight…. or maybe he was both.

In his bid to woo this fair lady he will do all he can to win her affection but his honor will not allow him speak those  3 sacred words in deceit. It would be sacrilege! (…maybe he’s a Knight after all)

There’s the option of him saying “I lust you”, but then in an era of chivalry such as his, he has no intention of devaluing the virtue of his one night stand, not verbally anyway. He writes her shams of love letters and poetry telling her how beautiful she is; How the shape of her eyes reminds him of stars and all that jazz, but the player still doesn’t score. This maiden is a hard nut to crack, a challenge, but he will not back down! (…definitely a Knight!)

The situation calls for drastic measures. He now realises how desperately he has to incorporate the sacred words into his libretto or else risk losing out on this conquest. A bulb lights up in his head. Eureka!

(The Victorian Player)

Down on one knee; her hand in his, he speaks the words ….”I am in Love with You”.

SCORE!!!!!!!!!

The maiden is flustered. She takes the bate all because somewhere in that sentence she hears I, Love and You. Its a happy day for both parties. She goes away feeling that she has the heart of a man now and he goes away with the experience of them doing the nasty somewhere in the woods or perhaps even in a barn.

They probably meet the next day and he pretends like nothing has transpired between them, and when she asks about his words of love he then repeats his statement s-l-o-w-l-y, adding that it was actually a declaration of his “Burning desire”. She really can’t argue with his defense so I’m guessing she ends up throwing herself off a bridge or something… And so birthed the era of damage and heartbreak all because of 5, no, 6 little words. The invention of this lengthier statement has however aided a cult of people since then. Till this very day, in the wrong hands it is one of the most valued weapons used in hurting the vulnerable heart.

Casanova may have got all the credit for being the god father of womanizers but trust me, the faceless individual with the gumption to come up with a sentence so strong, so passionate, so intense would definitely have bagged a whole lot more chicks than dear  Giacomo.

But I think I would have done it even better… Why waste time thinking up new sentences when all you need do is say “I LOVE YOU”, fingers crossed?

…JUST MESSING WITH YAL!!!! 😉

“Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your heart, or burn down your house, you can never tell.”

-Joan Crawford