Musical Romance (Short Story)

Your best friend, Beth, invites you to an open mic night at a local coffee house. It the first time Beth is going to sing one of her original songs in front of people, besides you and her cat, Meowers.

You are thrilled to go and support your friend.

After your shift is done at the call center for a tech company you rush home to get ready. You change your clothes and redo your hair. You do this in record time and meet Beth at the cosy coffee house.

You can smell the beans roasting and the coffee brewing from outside the door. As you enter the coffee house you look around the warmly decorated room. It has two large couches facing a makeshift stage area and wood tables that are only large enough to sit four people each. 

Beth finds you and greets you with a great big hug, the way she does when she is nervous. As she is still squeezing you Beth stated, “You made it.” She lets go and tells you, “The first person is about to start. I’m fifth in line.” She straightens her red and brown floral dress that flows over her slender body.

“Of course, I made it. I wouldn’t miss this.” You look at your friend and ask, “How are you doing? Nervous?”

Beth tried to smile. “Nah, no, no. I’m fine.”

You look blankly at her and her face drops, fully revealing her nerves. “Yes, I am. I shouldn’t be, the crowd isn’t that big, but it’s my song. What if they hate it? What if I mess up? What if I can’t really sing?”

“Don’t be silly. You’ll do great. Meowers and I love the song. Plus you’ve sung in front of bigger crowds than this.”

Confused Beth asked, “When?”

“Our middle school recitals and more recently karaoke.”

Beth shakes her head as she states, “Those don’t count. Karaoke isn’t really performing and middle school ended like half a lifetime ago.”

“Still, you’ll do great.”

Just then the first performer takes the stage and taps on the mic. He is a large round man with little hair on the top of his head, but plenty white hair coming from his chin. He starts to sing an old blues song as he strums on a guitar. He is good and the crowd applauds him when he finishes. The next performer is a woman with pigtails and a banjo. She can’t seem to play and sing at the same time, but struggles through the full song anyways. The following two performers get progressively worse and the audience hardly even claps for the last man, who leave almost in tears. It is obvious that his nerves won.

It is Beth’s turn. She is nervous and starts by fumbling the first notes on her simple acoustic guitar.

You mouth “Breathe,” to her. She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. She starts again and plays her song perfectly. It is beautiful. The crowd cheers for her at the end. They are very thankful that she was a wonderful singer and the song was beautiful.

Beth makes her way back to the table where you are sitting with a giant smile on her face.

As she sits the next act gets on stage. He has perfectly curly brown hair and sits on the stool, but keeps one leg on the ground. He smiles a nervous yet cute smile as he places his guitar on his lap. He clears his throat and say, “This is my first time here too, and I also have an original song.”

He starts singing and your eyes meet his sparking hazel eyes. You hold eye contact with him and smile. It feels as though the room melts away and he is singing only to you. Towards the end of his song he looks down to make sure he is playing the right notes, but is grinning widely.

At the end of the song he thanks the audience, but is looking at you when he does so. The crowd applauds him as he leaves the little platform that makes up the stage.

He walks directly to you. “Hi, I’m Matt.” He says with his hand out.

You shake his hand as you tell him, “Hi Matt, I’m Lucy. You were great.”

“Thanks. I don’t mean to be too forward, but can I join you two lovely ladies?”

Before you can answer Beth does. “Of course, we would love that.”

The conversation quickly dies down as the last performer takes the stage. She resembles an jazz singer with her hair pined in curls and a black fit and flare dress on. She sings a slow and soft song. It is a very loving sweet  jazz song. After she finishes the audience claps, but starts to leave.

Matt, Beth, and you continue to talk. After half an hour Matt buys both of you teas and you help him carry them over to the table.

You do not realize the time passing. As the coffee house closes Matt asks for your number. Smiling you give him your phone number and he sends you a quick smiley text, so that you have his.

You can tell that this is the start of something new, but after a long day at work you are ready for bed.

You say goodnight to Matt at the coffee house and walk with Beth to your car, which is outside of Beth’s apartment. You say goodnight to your best friend and get in your car.

When you get home you see that you have an unread text message from Matt. It says, “I’m really glad I went to the open mic night, tonight.”

You smile as you respond with, “Me too. Goodnight.”

As you get ready for bed another text from Matt pops up on your phone. “Goodnight.”

Guarding The Ladder.

Otis 004Do not let the picture above fool you. Otis is not an ordinary cat.  He is a fierce feline focused on protecting the one who feeds him. He bravely takes on this role every night. What is this hero of a cat protecting me from? Well, I am actually not entirely sure, but it may be from falling off my bed, or it could be the window. Whatever the danger he protects me from it every single night.

Let me explain how he protects me. His heroism primarily entails walking the perimeter of my bed, making sure that the only exit from the loft bed is still the ladder. He then makes sure that I am safe by sniffing my face. Finally he is ready to buckle down in his post. He stretches out as he lies down right at the opening for the ladder. He will bravely stay at his post keeping watch, unless he falls asleep, until my morning alarm goes off. Most days he will even stay pass the alarm going off and it will take me nearly throwing him down the ladder for him to move.

Now, since I am the one being protected I cannot be the first one out of the bed. He cannot and will not simply move aside. He needs to clear the area or at least the ladder. He makes his safety check by climbing down part way, stopping at the window for  a moment, and then going out the window onto the roof.

His reward for being brave and protecting me all night is his breakfast that I pour him usually while I am still asleep.

At least, that is what I am telling myself. In all honesty he most likely is just being a butt and blocking the ladder, because he knows it annoys me. I will keep trying to convince myself that he is protecting me, because murdering a cat is frowned upon.

 

My Monday Night (Sort Of A Short Story)

writing

Hello and welcome to my Monday night. It was amazing and now I feel slightly broken. I am energized even though I am exhausted. I want to sleep now that my night is over, but too excited to even think of fully ending the night. You see I was wonderfully hurt and carefully punched. I was stressed, pushed, and rolled. I learned what hurts and how to hurt, but never trying to hurt the other.

Hello and welcome to my Monday night. I got to class early and started to prepare. I did not have a pen and there was no paper. I did not sit at a desk and no books would be found. I got to class early and changed into my warrior’s clothing. I put on the pants that match the top. I tied my belt as tight as it could go and I prepared for class.

Hello and welcome to my Monday night. I ran among men and pushed myself to do what they do. I pushed myself hard as deep voices counted the numbers of the challenge. I struggled to prove myself to myself as the advanced classmates pushed on  stronger. Still I pushed on alongside them.

Hello and welcome to my Monday night. It’s a night where I introduce myself to different men, well some are boys. I introduce myself to them all the same. I give them a fist bump before the fun starts. I push when they pull or pull when they push. If I stop to think they either help and tell me what to do or the show me how stopping is the enemy. I do not know most of these partners, but still we roll and tug at each other struggling to win the round. The first round could be easy with only clothes touching clothes. The first round could be a small lesson with my partner telling me how to win. Or the first round could be personal and trusting with a face full of your partner’s sweaty  torso. Any way the first rounds start they start, I learn, they end.

Hello and welcome to my Monday night. Join me on this adventure of life and lessons. All the pain and sweat is worth it.

Paradox of Life (poetic random thoughts)

writing

I love my life
yet I fight for it to change.
I work towards my dreams
that may force my loved ones away.
I am happy with myself
but am always changing.

It’s like
the night wishing to be the day,
sunshine wishing to be the rain,
the light wishing to be darkness.

I strive to change
when there is no need.
I work towards a new life
when my own is wonderful.
It must be how I am wired
always looking for better
when I already have greatness
searching for more love
when love is already overflowing
and looking for sunshine
when there is not a cloud in the day’s sky.

Yes, I love my life
yet I fight for it to change.
I work towards my dreams
that may force my loved ones away.
I am happy with myself
but am always changing.

This is what is going on in my head right now. It’s part wondering and part simply realizing, I have a good life, yet I still am looking for more. 

Why? (A Poem)

poetry

Why
Is my heart breaking;
Can I not see the light?
Why
have I lost hope;
Can I not feel the love?
Where is this lost feeling,
this void of hope;
where is this twisted feeling coming from?

Did I not laugh today,
was that a dream?
Did the sun not shine today
and did I not wake again?

Why
is my heart breaking;
is my mood so low?
Why
have I lost my hope
Do I not know which way to go?
Has my path darkened?
Have I lost my way?
Can you tell me?
I need to know.

Did I not see a baby smile
or hear my friends’ laughter?
Was there no jokes today
and did I not enjoy work?
Did the sun not shine today
and I not wake again?

Why
is my heart breaking;
do I feel alone?
Why
have I lost my hope;
can I not figure out?
Where can I find the hole that is inside
What fell out
How do I get it back in?

I guess it is simply one of those nights
after a wonderful day
when the night is darker
and my eyes are heavier.
I guess it is simply one of those nights
when I ask why
knowing the next dawn will be brighter.

This poem was written Wednesday night, after I hung out with a few friends and had a generally good day. I was happy most of it and then on the car ride home I started to think. My mind went off on its own and I wound up feeling a bit depressed by the time I pulled into my driveway. I decided to write as an outlet and to figure out where the feelings were coming from. By the end of the poem I realized it was just me being tired and thinking about everything I have to do.

It is simply one of those nights where I need to go to bed and know everything will be better in the morning.

I hope you enjoyed reading and let me know what you think. Also if you need help, advice, or just someone to talk to, please let me know. I am always willing to help and listen. 

no sleep

poetry

No, no you can not sleep

not when the sun-shines

not when the heat beats.

No there is no slumber

not when they day is bright

and the sun shines it’s light.

No, no you can not sleep

not until the night falls

and the sun sets.

No there is no sleep

not under the children closes their eyes

and the nights cools your tan.

Stars and Mind (Ballad Poem)

poetryBallad

A short narrative poem with stanzas of two or four lines and usually a refrain. The story of a ballad can originate from a wide range of subject matter but most frequently deals with folk-lore or popular legends. They are written in straight-forward verse, seldom with detail, but always with graphic simplicity and force. Most ballads are suitable for singing and, while sometimes varied in practice, are generally written in ballad meter, i.e., alternating lines of iambic tetrameter and iambic trimeter, with the last words of the second and fourth lines rhyming.

 

She sat and wondered
looking up at the stars
resting her weary mind
far from the sound of cars

The wind whispered her name
and brought magic to the night
the stars twinkled into shapes
and the stars seemed to burn bright

She sat and wondered
looking up at the stars
resting her weary mind
far from the sound of cars

In this night she was with friends
this night that seemed like a metaphor
She watched it dance by
and wondered if it was actually a lore

She was detached from the night
lost in her mind
Where the stars burn bright
and the heavens unwind.
 

 

Black Winged Guardian

I drove home really late last night by myself. While driving I came up with this poem. Let me know what you think.

Black Winged Guardian

Black winged guardian

hiding in the night sky;

watching over your charge

In invisible armor

to match your unseen ways.

Mysterious and strong

staying in the shadows

exactly where danger lurks.

Black winged guardian,

inconspicuous hero,

hiding out of sight

so villains always feel fright

and victims stay alright.

Black winged guardian,

only feeling love unknown

staying in the shadows

staying where you were meant to be.

Powerful and brave,

Mysterious and strong,

Yet unknown and unseen.

Poetic reading (Sunshine and Rain

The other day I recorded my poetry reading for the first time. I am hoping to record more and become more creative with the video, but this is a start. Today’s video is Sunshine and Rain, which I posted on here earlier in the year. I have edited, recorded and posted it for your enjoyment… I hope you enjoy it.  Below you will find the full edited poem. Please let me know what you think.

Sunshine And Rain

I woke to a new day,
woke with a thought,
woke with a hope
of you close by.
Yes, I woke with you were near.
but as my eyes opened
the dream faded
and I was alone.

This made me wonder
made me think,
do you believe in me?
Do you look at the grey, cold sky
and see the sunshine?
Do you stand in the rain
and feel sun beams?
In your night can you feel my day?

You may be far far away
as far as the moon is from the sun
but there is still a moon
and I still see the sun.
In the storm and the rain,
I will see sunshine.
I will stay awake at night,
so that I can feel your day.
And until the sun and moon meet
I will believe in you

Sunshine and rain

I woke early to a new day,
woke with an odd thought in my head,
woke with the idea of you close by.
Yes, I woke believing you were near,
but as my eyes opened
the dream faded
and I was alone with my pillows.
I was only sleeping in my bed.

Still this made me wonder
made me think,
made me ask
do you believe in me?
Do you look at the grey and cold sky
and see the sunshine?
Do you stand in the rain
and know the sun is out?
In your night can you feel my day?

You may be as far as the moon is from the sun
but there is still a moon
and I still see the sun.
In the storm and the rain,
I will see sunshine.
I will stay awake at night,
so that I can feel your day.