I Am A Soggy Bagel

bagel (2)

Today I got dressed up. I felt like I needed to look good. I wanted to take extra time for myself, so in the morning I woke up early. I put on my new cream cheese spread and wore heels. I even did my make-up. I was looking amazing if I do say so myself.

I started my car and went to work. I was on the highway when it started to rain and then I got a flat tire. I pulled over to change the tire. As soon as my car was safely on the side of the highway the clouds fully opened up. Have you ever seen a bagel in high heels changing a tire when it was raining buckets? I am sure I was amusing the drivers with all four tires intact that drove by. I just know it was not fun changing that tire and I was almost instantly soggy. After a few nice people did stop to help I finally had my tire changed to the spare.

I stopped, soaking wet, at a tire store. They changed the spare out for a new regular tire and I was off to work, again. The only real different was that I was no longer fancy or looking amazing. I was simply a soggy bagel in heels.

Could Be ( A Poem)

poetry
This could be amazing;
ride upon unicorns
over sparkling rainbows
while bards play magical melodies
and wild nymphs dance on trees
amazing.
Others may spring into light
out of sheer joy.
This could bring delightful dancing doggies
or curiously cute cats,
wonders upon wonders could be brought.

On the other hand
if you flip the tape,
reverse my hopes,
show my fears.

This could be terrible,
rotted death could ooze out its orifices
like black tar filled humiliation
and the sulfur smell of dying dreams
those that were crushed by failure,
which would cause a dank cave
to become a bare home for my soul
with only swollen sadness
to guide my lonely days.

There is a burning flame
a flickering fire inside
that holds to the unicorn
almost seeing the sparkling rainbow
and knows
even if dying dreams are crushed by failure
new one will arise
out of the dream pulp
or ashes of failure.
The phoenix that is my heart
will go on
will create.

Pain

poetry
First you whisper,
then you walk close.
You talk,
telling me to focus
or maybe it was ‘relax’.
Either way you came
to distract,
although my aim was to ignore
and ignore I did
until the training was brought to its end.

You allowed me to ignore you,
but you were patiently waiting
gathering information for the fight.
You calmly waited
until I was alone.
I was still.
Then you erupted
with a thunderous shout
because I did not move
not how you wanted.
The movement caused you to no longer be ignored
my attention was yours.
As I relaxed you were in the way.
As I lay in bed you preventing sleep.
As I ate breakfast you interrupted.

Thankfully I could dig in my bag
to find earmuffs to your nice
and swallowed them down.
Then heated a towel
to sooth what was left,
eventually freezing you out after.
More ear muffs,
more heat, more cold
and then life was possible.

Let Me Live (A Poem)

poetry
Let me live among the stars
Allow me to dance a jazz-square
on the moon.
If not teach me
how to trap my dreams in reality.

I will soar high
above my common life
living in the clouds of my desire
then like gravity
you pull be back
to where I sit.

Let me fly.
Let me soar.
Let me live,
even for a moment more.

Instead you pull me
chain me
and remind me of my fears.
Road blocks are made
while obstacles rise
like you forget what’s inside.

My heart will soar
I will fly.
You may be helpful
reminding me of reality
but my dear mind
you know my heart and my soul.
They will win.
I will live among the stars
and dance on the moon,
so please just step aside.

I Am A Hurt Bagel

bagel (2)

The other day I woke up and my body was a bit stale. I thought nothing of it until later in the day. I started to workout with Baguette. I stretched and then ran. I was fine until we started to do the floor exercises. I should restate that. It was not until I tried to do the floor exercises that I started to feel real pain. I was falling ungracefully as Baguette showed me what to do. Yes, she did the floor exercises and I flopped around. I wound up getting unnaturally twisted up and my staleness turned into real pain. It was so bad that I could not fall asleep that night.

Thankfully us Bagels heal fast with a little wet heat. I was back to my non-exercising self within a day.

 

 

The Reason

poetry
Oh, there’s the reason.
There it lies,
on the floor of my mind.
It was hidden
behind ideas of romance
under longings of intimacy
neither the reason.
They only hide the truth.

This attachment to a stranger
with the idea of romance
longing for discovery of the deep
was caused by a dream of more,
just like reading my mind
told by another life,
this one also touched my soul.
He spoke my heart,
showed the world my hopes,
and told me I could be
the more of my dreams,
without even knowing my existence.

The Window

poetry

The Window stays open,
but it’s cold outside.
The window stays open,
as I put on a heavy sweat shirt.
The window stays open,
so I pull on warm socks.

The cold air reminds me
of autumn leaves blowing.
The cold air reminds me
of my family gathering.
The cold air reminds me
that I am still alive.

The window stays open.
The cold air reminds me.

Unnatural Nature

poetry
In a sea of knowledge
I’m surrounded by boats not fish
technology in the place of nature.
Pushing manual buttons
to answer virtual questions.
Even as I yearn for true life
I watch a mechanical fountain
as it pushes recycled water.

Electricity and lighted monitors
are my visual inputs,
with photo-shopped beauties plastered
all around the two-dimensions of my screen;
All the while knowing nature is so much more
fulfilling, beautiful, and inspiring.
It’s so sad that the shackles
of modern life keeps me coming
to the sea of knowledge
where I push mechanical buttons.

This was a very short poem, but I lengthened it. Let me know what you think and have a wonderful day.

Choice and Action (A Poem)

poetry

Joy is a choice.
Love is an action.
How can you choose
Joy when you’re drowning?
What loving action can you take
when your soul is fighting to survive?

I escape from a self-inflicted prison,
now able to see
to breath
but still hurt by hits
fired from one who knows
where the wounds will be effective.

Still I will love
and find a way to choose joy.
The hurt will heal.
I will not cage my caring or my calling.
Joy is a choice I am choosing.
Love is an action I will do.

Black clad Assassin

Black Clad Assassin

The perimeter of his little camp must have been weaker than he thought because he was awakened by the nose of a black horse with black eyes and black reigns. Everything about this horse was black including the rider who sat on the horse’s black saddle. The only thing that was not black was the whites of the rider’s eyes.

The rider stared at William, the now frightened man, as the black leather clad rider dismounted the black horse. William could see the crest of the deadly assassin clan pressed into the leather right where the heart should be. No one knew if this clan had hearts or if they were monsters sent to kill the poor mortals that got in their way. Not much was known about them. Only two things were known for sure, their crest had five stars and a bird, and a single assassin could kill entire villages.

Slowly the rider, who wore 2 swords, walked over to William. Only when the black clad rider was looming over William were words spoken. “Do you have food?” The words came from behind the black clothe mask, however they were surprisingly feminine. William could tell that the low register of the voice was forced and it was softer than he was expecting.

“You’re a lady.” A shocked William stated.

Before William could answer the question or even think another thought there was a dagger pressed against his throat. “I will slice your throat either way.”

William, a simple monk who was only out of the monastery due to a change in assignment was silent until the assassin asked the question again, “Do you have food or will I have to slit your throat?”

“I have food. I have bread.” A shaky voiced William answered. He stayed still until the dagger was lowered.

He went into his satchel and took out his 2 loaves of bread and offered them to the one clad in black. She took one ripped it in half and gave the other half back to William.

When William gave a confused look at the woman who was supposed to be a ruthless killed she answered the look by sitting down and stating, “I will not repay generosity with greed. You are not my target, so you will be safe.”

Neither one of them spoke as they ate the bread.

William simply sat cross-legged as he ate and watched the assassin. She had pulled her mask up to eat and William saw that her skin was only black because of the black grease makeup she wore where her mask did not cover. She was actually quite pale, especially compared to his heavily tanned skin. He also watched how she sat. The assassin sat with only one leg on the ground. The other was bent with the foot on the grounds as if she needed to be ready to spring to her feet at any moment. She also kept her dagger in one hand and the bread in the other.

They both sat and watched the other eat uncertain what would happen if either one of them spoke.

When the assassin was done with her bread, she stood and stated, “Tell no one of this meeting or you will become a target for my clan.”

She mounted her horse before William could confirm that he would not tell a soul. She did not need to wait for the confirmation though, she knew her clan’s reputation and knew he would heed her command.

Want More?

If you would like to read more stories of mine I do have a stand-alone short stories section and my writing portfolio. You can also watch readings of my writings on YouTube.