Time to kiss away the muffled shadowland.

Time to carry my sandpaper voice underground.

Time to sleep where concrete angels tend to split necked flowers.

Time to be baptised under hearty rain spells.

Time to dial down fears and give birth to redemption.

Thanks to those who gave ear and warm words to the paper heart sleeved muses.

I’m a long way from home, but I’m inching closer.

Time to set my aim towards the sun.

Time to go.

A night song for Selene’s painted fire moon

Moans twilight sadness over Lyra’s plucked lute

Her laugh dancing thunder shaking hideaway spaces.

Motorbike leaps through Eden’s gate

Oil and tears leaking last rites

Dream buzzed veins electric and cranked.

He throttles beyond ink dipped rainbows

Where boiled technicolour skies

Melt time’s rustic phantoms cloaked midnight black.

Razor leaf trees sneeze bone spiked fallout

Splitting his banded candy cane skin

Fantasia’s fingers flicking away seething stars.

Mood ring moon winks at the smouldered sun

Her glitter soaked eye his chariot’s aim

Heartened conquest towards evaporating coil.

Lyra’s lips stir his soul

And clawed lightning tears at heaven

Slipstreaming lovers bleached galaxy gold.

She inhales him.

I Step

October 23, 2024

One more step

One step closer

The how not as important as the how far

My mode of transportation

Means I walk downhill

Even when I am climbing uphill

I have encountered obstacles

Of both my own making

And the making of others

My detours have been

Long and arduous

Only the more difficult in heels

But, I am where I should be

Not having to step over the bodies

Of those in my way

But, having to outsmart,

Outplay, and outthink

Those whose talents I still respect

So see me while you can

I am dynamic and highly mobile

I am more than the sum of my parts

My coat tails are indeed long

Follow my wake if you dare

And take each step if you can

How many of God’s works were made? – Too many, I’d say.

In each of us, suffering keeps the heart at bay.

Every heart is tortured, full of dread, and lacks divinity,

What’s left of mankind is mere bait for infinity.

But what is this golden rod for?

What serpent from the waters is it meant to lure?

No matter the mineral, no sin will it lift,

They’re too heavy, too light, too deeply adrift.

Rooted in pleasure, in desires so beastly,

Labeled as human joy, seen as deathly.

For what good is joy, if not for man,

Tossed by Dionysus, caught in his hand?

It’s hard not to worry, hard not to fret,

I watch the world, and wish I’d never left the dead.

Since man no longer cares for foolish deeds,

Since people let themselves be kicked on the paths they need,

Since free will has ceased, we no longer carve trails,

Choosing paths made by fools who prevail.

Where do we stand?

In a world that’s displayed, or in a box where dolls decay?

What’s in there?

Is it hope that’s been stowed?

Or has it hidden, refusing to be shown?

It’s useless to wonder,

Hope died long ago, torn asunder.

Are people still like what man was meant to be,

Or has man strayed too far from humanity?

It’s useless to ask!

Even the blind can see, they’re no longer akin, they’re not truly free.

In one cage, we’ve been enslaved together,

So we shared our scars to be closer, however.

The best ones bore only the smallest marks,

But the rest? Who cares for their life in the dark?

Why do they stain, if their blood is so pure?

Why do they leave traces, yet in silence endure?

I don’t know this creature, but it’s no kin of mine,

Not human – no echo of the heart’s beat in its spine.

Not animal – too much humanity it lacks,

What kind of monster is this that attacks?

But now it doesn’t matter, it’s all just a blur,

I died in my own bloodstain, and in it, I saw myself stir…

Doing nothing

is the Art hahaha!

to know not waste

given moment's notice

hold it all four corners

for how it owns us

east south north west

a cat curling self

around the leg

imperceptible

scent leaving

in darkness beginning

a tiny movement

a beating

10.22.2024

Cackle challenge @Last

"There is no such thing as a dumb question."

That's what teachers, supervisors, and lecturers told me.

When no one in my work group posed a question, my boss added, "Don't be shy. There's no judgment. No one to stop you from asking anything."

A few giggles surfaced, reminding me of the ridicule and judgment that I risked.

So I kept my question to myself:

"Is there such a thing as a dumb answer?"

(Take a look at my bio please,)

(This story has a childlike theme to it, but it's a little more darker. I don't really like it but I do want to share it for feedback or criticism.)

(If you will, enjoy!)

There once was a little highness.

The little highness lived in a little castle. A castle that was in the center of a village.

This village atmosphere was always so alive and cheerful.

But the little highness was always scared of being around their people.

This time, the little highness wanted to change. The little highness wanted to understand and feel the same way the village felt, so the little highness went to seek out and make some friends.

The little highness during their walk in a little park found a kid, standing there, lonely.

“Do you want to be friends?” The little highness asked the boy.

“Um.. ok.” Says the boy.

The little highness then went on, day after day trying arduously to play with, humor, and keep the boy around.

But the boy for some reason always seemed distant from the little highness.

The little highness typically was the one who asked the boy if they wanted to play.

The little highness typically was the one who tried to make conversations with the boy.

But the boy still seemed to stay distant, never making their presence aware for the little highness anytime the little highness tried or couldn’t find them, and sometimes even ignored the little highness.

At last, the little highness thought that maybe the boy just didn’t like them.

The little highness then became very sad.

But, the little highness also felt annoyed.

Then came the shout of the big highness, who lived in the little highness's head.

“YOU'RE JUST BORING!” Big highness shouted.

“OTHER PEOPLE CAN DO THIS BETTER THAN YOU.”

“Please stop! That can’t be true! I can’t be boring!” The little highness shouted back.

The big highness retaliated. “FINE. GO TRY TO MAKE MORE FRIENDS. I WILL PROVE YOU WRONG.”

The little highness, reluctant to agree with the big highness, decided to try again.

The little highness took a walk in the park again, and this time, found a little girl, standing there, lonely.

“Do you want to be friends?” The little highness asked.

“Well, ok.” Says the girl.

The little highness then went on for the entire afternoon, trying arduously to play with, humor, and keep the girl around.

But the next day, the girl seemed distant.

She seemed to be looking for someone else to keep her company. She seemed to be uninterested with the little highness, swaying her head from the left to the right.

And then, the little highness saw a prince walk up to her, as the girl smiled brightly, walking away with the prince.

The little highness then became very sad.

But, the little highness also felt confused.

“Why can’t I make friends well?” The little highness wondered in perplexity.

Then came the shout of the big highness who lived in the little highness’s head.

“YOU'RE JUST BORING!” the big highness shouted.

“OTHER PEOPLE CAN DO THIS BETTER THAN YOU!”

“No! That can’t be true!” The little highness yelled back, but this time with an uncertainty that made their voice tremble.

The big highness again, retaliated. “FINE. GO TRY ONE MORE TIME. AND YOU’LL SEE I'M RIGHT.”

The little highness, this time quietly replied “Okay. I will try again.”

The little highness wandered into the park one more time, and for this time, found a group of people.

“Come! Join us!” The group of people told the little highness.

The little highness delightedly joined the group of people.

But something was wrong.

The little highness then went on, still trying arduously to play with, humor, and keep the group “wanting to continue being friends with them”.

The little highness struggled to find interesting things to say.

The little highness struggled to find funny things to say.

The little highness struggled to seem relevant.

Then, the little highness seemed distant to the group, as the little highness avoided them in fear of the group not liking them already.

Then, the little highness started trying to seem uninterested when alone, which confused themself on why they were doing that.

The little highness then became very sad.

But, the little highness just sighed.

“Why am I so boring?” The little highness wondered, in disconcertment.

Then came the shout of the big highness who lived in the little highness’s head.

“YOU ARE JUST BORING!” The big highness shouted.

“YOU AREN'T INTERESTING!”

“YOU AREN’T RELEVANT!”

“YOU’RE JUST UNFUNNY!”

“NO ONE ADMIRES YOU!”

“DON’T EVEN BLAME THE GIRL WHO LEFT YOU!”

“OTHER PEOPLE CAN DO THIS BETTER THAN YOU!”

“Please stop! No more! I don’t want to hear it anymore! I want to be funny!” The little highness yelled, finally having enough.

“I want to be important! I want to be charismatic! I want to be relevant! I want to be interesting! I want to be good at this too! Why can’t I fit in with these people?”

The little highness, in frustration of themself, decided to go back into their castle, and sat there, pondering.

Day and nights have gone by, and the little highness still sat there,

Desperately trying to perceive what they're doing wrong.

Desperately trying to understand how to eradicate what they believe is their awful, irritating impairment.

And over and over, the little highness can hear big highness shouts, no matter how closely they press their hand against their ears,

desperately trying to not let big highness’s seeds of doubt grow.

One night, the little highness lays on their bed, mulling over the same things they have for the previous days.

“Why am I different from those people? Was I born like this?”

The same questions resurfacing again and again,

Until the little highness hears a voice.

“This isn't such a big deal. Stop complaining over this nonsense.” Says the voice.

“Who are you?” The little highness’s head shoots up, and asks.

“I am here. Look behind you.” The voice replied.

The little highness turned around and saw a ghost who looked just like the little highness.

“I am the ghost of this castle. You’ve been blabbering over and over about the same things for such a while. Isn’t it tiring?” The ghost questioned, as the translucent being floated in front of the little highness.

“It is but,” Says the little highness “I won’t leave the castle until I figure out the remedy to this ailment. I won’t!”

The ghost smirks, then hovers closer to the little highness.

“I can help you.” The ghost says. “All you have to do is follow me.”

“...Can you really?” Asks the little highness in suspicion.

“Only if you want me to. You don’t want to continue pondering, do you? Maybe you’ll never get your answer. On your own, atleast.”

The little highness fixated on the ghost. It's true, they didn’t want to stay here in the castle, lonely and contemplating on why they are. Big highness has stated something like this too: what if they were always bound to be alone, no matter how much they thought. No matter how hard they tried to think of ways to keep people around. No, not even if all the stars far above the castle roofs aligned and formed an illuminating celestial symphony, would they ever fit in?

So the little highness finally got up, and decided to follow the ghost, hoping for their answer to be in reach.

The ghost led the little highness up the castle’s long spiral of stairs, finally stopping at the top balcony.

“Look down at the village.” The ghost says.

“This village is beautiful isn’t it? Look at the very peaceful people of the village sleeping soundly.”

The little highness looks out over the village under the dark sky, breathing in the chilly air, and taking in the calmness of the night.

“But how do I become better now?” Asked the little highness.

“Look down there. There will be a big fire that will emerge right now.” Says the ghost.

The little highness’s eyes widened and swung their head towards a cottage down below in the distance.

Then, a bright light shined, and suddenly booms, throwing the cottage into a chaos of flames.

The little highness’s expression turns into one of dismay as they oversee the fire quickly spreading.

“Oh.. no! We must do something!” The little highness shouts frantically.

But before the little highness could think to dash out, the ghost stretched their hand out before the little highness, as the little highness turned around facing the ghost, back against the railing of the balcony.

“What are you doing?” The little highness asks, confuzzled as their heart pounds in urgency.

“This is what you wanted.” The ghost answers.

“What do you mean? I don’t know what you’re… what are you trying to do?” The little highness asks the ghost, as their eyes flicker between the ghost’s eyes and the ghost’s hand.

“You want to be interesting. You want to be important. You want to be liked. You want people to be swarming around you. You want to be amusing.” The ghost says slowly.

“You want to be all sorts of things. The way you were eager to make friends.. You want people to feel the same eagerness with you.”

“Please.. What is going on, ghost!” The little highness shouts in terror as the people of the village awaken and

begin to holler.

“Little highness.” The ghost starts, staring calmly at the little highness, almost as if in reassurance.

“I will push you from this balcony and you will fall. After your body hits the gravel ground, your soul will turn into a cloud. A rain cloud. A rain cloud that will disperse all the fire and save your people. You wanted to be admired, recognized, liked, and you will be remembered. You will be all those things, people will praise you for saving them. People will marvel at the sight of your graceful rain drops. And people will bury your body, remembering your bravery.”

The little highness stood there in silence but trembling, as the little highness stared at the ghost, listening to their words carefully.

Then, the little highness finally speaks.

“I’ll be liked.. I'll be admired...the rain?”

“Yes.” The ghost replied, slowly enclosing the gap between its hands and the little highness’s head.

“Be the rain. The beautiful, glistening rain, and their savior. Rain on the people and the people’s admiration and gratefulness will be shown, it will blossom so brightly it will illuminate even the darkest of skies. Even brighter than that fire. You are no longer irrelevant as you are their savior. You are no longer unamusing as they will gleefully smile and laugh when they see the sight of your cloud. You are no longer boring, as your rain will give birth to the beautifulest of floras across the village. Rain down your water, and their love will rain on you. And no one can do that, better than you.”

“Why do...” Says the little highness.

But before the little highness could finish, the ghost pushed them off the balcony.

“You must save them quickly. And now, I have fulfilled my promise!” Says the ghost.

“Now, you’re just right, just right highness.”

The little highness was falling. And falling. It seemed like the little highness would fall forever.

But before the little highness hit the ground, they thought.

“Why… Do I have to sacrifice my body, a part of me, to be liked? To finally be.. amusing? To finally be important to people? To be just right? No, I don’t want to… I want to be liked for the little highness I am now!”

The little highness body hits the ground below with a thud, the noise shattering in the background of the flame’s crackle sound and the hollering in the night.

As the little highness’s body lies below, a faint, wispy cloud begins to rise from it. The cloud grows bigger and bigger darkening as it blocks out the light of the moon. Thunder rumbles in the distance,

and the first drops of rain begin to fall.

There, up in the dark sky, you’ll find the “just right” highness. Their highness in the sky, serving as a rain cloud as dignified as its own drops, and as dark as its embodiment.

Hot falls an auburn night

Surrendering her baking embers

Scalpel tipped stars

Inking neon scrawl.

O raging bloom

Snared enroute

Hissing sanctified steam.

Humming pines

Windswept furies

Crashed car ballet.

Moon drunken gravity

Pale mirage

Heavenwards.

Blue eyed beauty Queen

Jokers wild

Pensive forests lurching.

I leap away

To cities eaten.

“It’s the quiet way the rain hits”

She thinks and blinks

“How it unloads a bladed arsenal

And raddles velvet valley dreams

From cerebellum’s Oz

Into oracular scrubland.”

And the punished lilt

In Daphne’s duct taped words

Howl through broken wishbone trees

Her raided bell tower tongue

Extinct to subterranean ear.

How deaf sadness follows.

She vows

Her gumption will weave a path

Where trauma’s scissored murderer

Can never snip

Her spinning wheel dreams

Knitting salvation

As teasing holographic flutters

Grip stroke dazed stars

Exploding aneurysm red

In Daphne’s supernova head

And she bolts shocked

To a bedside’s upright defeat

The eyeballing clock

More pained companionship.

Bedside chapel.

4am.

She calls.

Trill in her mothball throat

As trembling words creep out on eggshell platters;

“The demon of silence is gone.

I can dream myself alive now

For the first time since forever

And the scream of hope

Is such beautiful agony”.