Late at night,

While lying down,

I hear it

At first,

It's faint, muffled

Hard to make out

Even in the deafening silence

But it's a familiar sound,

One I've heard far too often

It's her

Crying again,

Helpless sobs wracking her body,

Overwhelmed by a toxic mixture

Of depression and despair

It's because of her husband,

Again

As it always is

This is what I've heard

For the past three years,

Night after night

It's the sound

I wish to hear no more

The legend begins again,

As frigid rain pours down,

Blanketing lonely dirt roads

The criminal come to kill again,

To continue his murderous reign,

Painting the town crimson red

Always at night,

With the onslaught of a downpour

Much to the town's terror,

He appears again,

Leaving carnage behind

As the rain dissipates,

So does he,

Quickly melting away

Gone without a trace,

The rain to play another day

Tragedy the only remainder

Of his vengeful massacre

i sure do love muh countree,

i love beeing n amarry cun,

just ain’t to fond of all them ferenors,

ya knows the ones i mean.

they come over here,

steal or jobs,

don’t never pay no taxes,

and squawk about being perseecuted,

complaining all the time how we are bi-assed about’em.

and blacks, mexi cans and china people,

what the hell is wrong with them?

don’t they know we let’em live here

cause we are the land of the free?

i swear, if’n they don’t like it,

they can move back to where they came from fer all i care.

then there’s them so-called librells,

with their fancy talk about changes,

ain’t nuthin’ wrong with amarryca;

they can suck wind fer all i care.

if’n they ain’t a republic can,

then i say they ain’t amarry cun.

but i love my countree.

got me a question though,

what’s a hippa crit?

____________

Just in case, this is a challege and not how I really feel.

Don’t want to leave a wrong impression of myself.

For the last three days, Mara has received a card, flowers and a box of assorted chocolates at work. Each came with a note, not signed, One day I will have you.

At first, the gifts were pleasing and put smiles on her face, but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered, “What if this is some creep or sicko, playing mind games with me.”

The end of another week arrived and with that, she left the office on a dark and somewhat dreary Valentine night. With a slight grimmacing smile (and no Valentine lover in her life), Mara started walking the five blocks back to her apartment. What, with the weather frigid, she walked briskly, with purpose.

Starting on block number two, she could hear whistling, a somewhat eerie whistling. Mara didn’t stop to see where it was coming from and began to increase her pace, all the time thinking how nice it would be when she left Saturday to spend the day with her sister, Grace.

In block three, the whistling seemed louder, and closer. This time, she did turn, without stopping, but saw no one. Her heart began to race slightly higher and she was becoming nervous. Where was the whistling coming from?

By block four, her nerves slowly cracking, for now, the whistling continued. It was as if the tune itself was mocking her now apparent fear, Desparately, she tried to make her legs speed up so she could be inside her apartment, and be safe from whoever it was doing that eerie whistling.

As she reached block five, she felt, more than heard someone directly behind her. Fearful and scared, she walked faster; tears formed and slid slowly down her cheeks.

Less than fifty feet from steps that would lead her to the security door to her apartment building; that was when it happened.

A hand reached out and spun her around.

She gave out a brief piercing scream, and as quickly, she cut short.

“Oh, Brandon! It’s you. You gave me such a scare.”

Brandon works for the same company she does They rarely speak at great length, but they say good morning to each other. Simple things, nothing more.

“Yes, it’s me, Mara. I had hoped that....”

“Hoped for what? Wait! Was that you that sent me all those gifts? Thank you.”

“Yes, it was me. I had hoped you would like them, but then I overheard you saying to no one in particular, what if it’s some kind of sicko.”

With that, he plunged the knife deep into her belly and twisted the blade.

Mara’s eyes went wide from the pain but no sound came from between her lips. The suddenness and shock was too much for her. Her blood pooled out of her in the shape of a heart.

“I just wanted to get to know you better, Mara, but that won’t happen, will it. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Brandon walked to his apartment, thinking, Who will be next?

Love and hatred

Sitting in a tree

K-I-S-S-I-N-G

First you love

Then you hate

Then you guzzle wine and chocolate cake.

Thick as thieves 

are pain and my heart

eternal sustenance

for my art

intertwined 

bedfellows

of love and hate

life-long mates.

I was a battered boy

I am a broken man

One day soon for certain

I will be dust and sand.

I was an unloved little girl

Who grew to woman be

Angry and hard, bitter and cold

Sad, alone and lonely.

I was the child of these two souls

Much loved, indeed, adored,

With whom they shared their dreams untold

In whom their pains and aches they poured.

I am a woman now

The mother of a son

Untouched by the nightmares

Of battles never won.

I will be the witness

Of lives I can’t forget

Of buried hopes and dreams

Of loves I’ve never met.

I know it all sounds the same,

but love is the name and sex the game.

I am the one to play,

with a heart in stray.

Living in fear was yesterday.

You all know the troubles seemed so far away.

I know what I can,

so, I’ll be your man.

Or woman, what you prefer,

is it okay for you, Sir?

Or shall I call you Madame just to be polite?

I am gonna party out the whole damn night.

Don't you think it's human right,

to choose between princess and knight?