You can't get your money back,

not in this life.

You don't get to take it back,

not in this life.

Be careful with what you write,  

what you say, and what you do,

Take your time, be sure, 

and really think it through.

You will have to live with it, 

tomorrow, all the tomorrows hence,

on and on it goes.

You can say "that was then."

But you'll hear the noes. 

'Cause you can't get your money back,

that's just the way it goes. 

___________________________________

June 2017

© 2017 CLThomas Published on theprose.com per agreement. Other reproduction for use by written permission only.

I thought, maybe if I stared at it long enough,

It would become more human to me;

It would make more sense and perhaps transform

Into something real, something tangible.

The first things to break apart were the colors;

After fifteen minutes, the blues parted with the grays

And the skin-tone ruddy browns and the amber sunsets

And the bright skylights and the black tar

Were only silhouettes of what they were before, and now

Seemed only to be memoirs of color and light, 

The colors lost, without meaning.

Next it was the shapes; they turned from perfectly-angled rectangles

To a mess that every geometry teacher would vomit at the sight of;

Lines transformed to something less than real;

Circles couldn't be pi-r-squared into oblivion, they just weren't

Nothing was, nothing could be, 

And the greatest abomination to math everywhere

Was there, on that paper, in my head and in my thoughts. 

It had been a solid hour of staring and my eyes were growing weary

But I was determined to squeeze out all the meaning out of it

So I sat there, still as a statue, watching the painting

To see if something inside it would reach out to me. 

The first thing I saw was a hand, its fingers bursting from the canvas

And beckoning me forward, calling me to join in its life

But I was scared to reach forward, to touch painted fingers

To change whatever it was that I was living.

It was after two hours that I had to look away, the hurt became too much.

The painting, in all its glory, was now clear to me:

It was not a disarray of shapes and lines and colors, it was one whole picture

It was something I'd been scared to look at, scared to face

And now, as I looked back one more time

I found myself face-to-face with nothing but pure white, 

For each color had exhausted itself, and every meaning, everything I'd wished to achieve

Had been nothing all along. 

And I'd stared at the blank sheet of paper, willing in vain

For it all to change.

 ‘Phynics Forever Rising’: YA, Adult, Memoir, 55,000 words, is the first of the ‘Memoirs of the Woman in The Steel Mask’ series. Two more non-fiction books are presently in progress with personal topics including vampires, women in masonry, black operations, Lady Diana and Dodi Fayed, and exiled royalty.

 It's true. Gifted Academies as Hogwarts, the X-Men, and Jedi training actually exist birthed of millennia old wizardry traditions. If you ever wanted to break into one of these secret worlds of instruction, this is your book. Yet discussing them is daunting as they are presently run by classified operations. Similarly, military psychic spy remote viewing units were revealed in 'The Men Who Stare at Goats' works in the United States. The James Bond series broke the silence of the existence of MI6 to the public, while British Royals attending 007 gala events denied the department was real. Within that tradition of stepping out of the looking glass, (Her)MI1’s office founded in cryptology offers you insight to a world of clairvoyance that you were not meant to know.

 While living in Hogg’s Hollow in Toronto in 1980s Canada, Clark was found to have a genius IQ and was placed within a government run ten year Academy for the Gifted in tandem with Claude Watson's School for the Arts. Clark’s theory that E.S.P. is a function of time and memory turned clairvoyant esoteric and dark arts traditions on their head, while unexpectedly liberating them. Within you will attain the secrets of the phynics to inspire you to consider whether you have dormant abilities to know the future, have impossible reflexes, or to read minds, and to redefine your perceptions of the future of humanity, time, life, and death themselves. Knowledge is power, and hard to attain intel is why spy agencies exist. For them there is no insight so valued as accurate foreknowledge, and no instruction so great nor rare as the phynics’ foresight. We welcome you to finally meet with us on this great and secret mystery of our times.

 On graduating University with a film BAA, Clark was a professional screenplay analyst in movie pre-production for Alliance Atlantis and the FUND, while writing and directing as owner of TorontoMedia. Completing several feature screenplays as  'Count Down’, ‘The Umpire’, and ‘Beladi’, with interest from the world’s top agents, Clark continued her learning curve and became a Director’s Guild crew member behind the camera on the major US movie studio sets for over a decade. Many magical moments and filmic 'easter eggs' will realize further within this series on sets including: Dreamworks, Twentieth Century FOX, Warner Brothers, NBC/Universal, Netflix, HBO, Disney, and Columbia Pictures.

CV resume & full bio: https://www.dgc.ca/cv_en/get/17243

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm5121110

#non-fiction #memoir #creative #science #narrative #youselectedthewrongbook

Oh, I brought you into the great country

Oh, I put a roof over your head

Oh, I fed your starving belly

Oh, I paid all the bills

            I did

THIS And THIS

            And 

          THAT

I 

Am

The Hero!!

But the fact is!

You ruined my entire life

You put me into an isolated cell

You fed me unhealthy greasy food 

And caused me to lose my own business

YOU

.

TOOK

.

MY

.

FREEDOM!!

And your “Hero-ness” is nothing but hero complex.

You didn’t love me. You loved my appearance. 

When I asked you; why do you love me?

You answered; you’re handsome.

And continued to petting me 》》》》》[STOP!]

. . .

I’ll get off here. 

#her #hero #complex #abusive #relationship

Welcome to Ameri-K-K-KA

Land of the damned and home of the enslaved

A place where land is worth more than a fair trade

And someone's final destination is either in jail or in a grave

We live in a place so socially divided that we love to judge someone on their culture, but could never judge ourselves

We are also divided by poor and wealth where the rich people can live in mansions but the less fortunate has to fend for themselves

We live solely off our government, but let me not get into that

If I talk too much they'll surely have it out for my ass

We live in a land that used to be segregated by color but now even the white folks can call niggers brothers

Welcome to Ameri-K-K-Ka, home of the KKK

Not the people you used to hear on the news everyday

No, the people that you walk pass crossing the street

Yes, I mean every single individual that you meet

Take African Americans for instance

We are so hell bent on destruction that we're killing our own race

Let's forget the government placing guns and weapons in our towns, they did that so we can die off at our own pace

We live in the land of opportunity but opportunity never arrives for refugees

They can't cross into our border and if they can you'd find them on the streets homeless, cold - looking for something to eat

They're too broke to even apply for government cheese

Yes we live in America where you see a mixture of races, but mostly whites

You see black people but the vast majority of them like to get into fights

It seems like everyone can come together and fight for social injustice

But do nothing when a leader causes warfare with just a push of a button

Yes, welcome to America, the greatest country in the world

Where we don't hold back any boy or girl

We just let them act a fool and make them famous cause while doing it "they look cool"

We live on a land where Native Americans live on refugee camps and homeless veterans gets no type of respect

Depressed people are often neglected

And bills to enhance our lives are often rejected

We're trying to be a light of hope but that's the opposite of what we're manifesting

Religion often divides us along with money and power

Christians judge others and send them all downwards

Hey.. I bet people in Flint still can't take a shower

I bet Native Americans been stopping that pipeline for hours

But hey don't pay attention to that, watch this

A cute little doggie can do a backflip

Better yet, stray bullets killed 3 kids

Not only that but there's a new virus that's making everyone sick

But on to brighter things there's a giraffe that's pregnant

Oh she finally had her baby? Better late that never

So let's forget about bs like that and find out what the government has done behind our backs

Hello, this is America where voices are left unspoken

And every rise to power is often left broken

But don't be afraid we're the greatest country ever

And just like a church the doors to our country are open

Welcome to America

Good Morning, Prosers,

The way publishers find new authors might have just changed forever.

We are pleased to announce that we have joined forces with publishing giant Simon & Schuster, whose legacy includes Ernest Hemingway, Carrie Fisher, and Stephen King.

Simon & Schuster’s editing team hopes to discover the next generation of great authors by utilising our challenge feature and our social community, initially through a 500-2000 word writing challenge that ends June 1, prompting you to, “Write a story, chapter, or essay about whatever you like. The 50 best entries will be announced by Prose and read by Simon & Schuster’s editorial staff for consideration.”

This challenge stipulates a minimum of 500 entries and a maximum of 2,000.

We will announce the top-50 entries on June 21, 2017.

Here is the challenge URL: https://theprose.com/challenge/5367

We hope you are as excited about this as we are. If you know people who would like to get noticed by Simon & Schuster, spread the word(s).

Until next time, Prosers,

Prose.

Do you wish it were my shadow,

Lying there next to yours,

As you stand clothed in moonlit glow

Behind a shut and bolted door?

Do you curse the sun in its rising

And the fiction it reveals;

The soft pink beam your sight reviling

For the dream it always steals?

And in the merciless light of day,

Do you close your eyes

Against the breath of noon and say

That all this world is lies?

When, tomorrow, you lead him to bed,

Perhaps you wish the hand

That grasps at yours were mine instead!

Perhaps, you think it grand

That lust in the dark needs no face,

And can yet trick the heart,

Believing the virginal bed lies chaste,

Concealing night plays its part.

To lover's guilt you need not be a slave;

Know that I can empathize.

Our necessary deception only tries to save

The dream that daily dies.

What I saw of truth I witnessed in you.

I turn back and see my shadow,

Wishing it were no longer one, but two

And weep for a love I cannot know.

When your heart breaks again

Is there any love left?

I can only love so many times

Before feeling eternally bereft

When your heart feels pain again

It's best that I live alone

No reason to ever love again

Better to grow old and die at home

When your heart is sad again

There is no one else to blame

I deserve to die alone

Because I brought upon myself pain

When your heart is torn again

I ask, "What is the use"?

This hurt is my fault

Tired of all this self-abuse

I give up on romantic love

Tired of this self-inflicted heartbreak

Realizing that there is no one for me

My emptiness goes deep as a lake

I've experienced too much heartbreak

My broken heart will never heal

Too many disappointments to go on

Romance is an emotion that I'll never feel

When your heart breaks again

I've decided to quit looking for love

All love does is rip apart your soul

Wishing for my spirit to soon soar into the sky above

I have taught myself not to think about you often.

But when my mind wanders I find myself thinking about you and all the memories we had.

I now try my hardest to keep busy so my thoughts don't wander back to you, and that my mind never wanders into its deepest imaginations.

Every time my mind wanders to you my heart breaks just a little more then before.

I know that your thoughts wander as well, but I also know that it never wanders to me, and that I never cross your mind as much as you cross mine.

I tried to count the raindrops

But your voice distracted me

Breezing through the trees

Hidden behind the chaotic winds.

So I tried to watch the lightning

Only for each electrifying flash

To bring back your silhouette

Disguised as all of the dark clouds.

The thunder rolled through

And with every echo it left

All I could hear was your footsteps

Walking away from the destruction

Your storm caused inside of me.