Believe It
Don't believe something
because you are told
Don't have faith just
because you've been sold
Dedicate life to something
worthy and true
There isn't anything
more real than you
You have control of
your own situation
You steer your life toward
your own destination
God and religion are
a human creation
Humanity is not
your final station
I'm not telling you that
your faith is wrong
I'm saying you are
to whom you belong
Pray to your god until
your face is blue
But in the end,
you make your own
dreams come true.
(I am not at all trying to offend anyone. It's just my point of view. Love to all my prose, religious or not.)
Alone in the Dark
I walked in the dark, listening to my music, on my way home from a friend’s house. I was there for three hours but studying our science notes was all we did. Even with so much review I’d probably still fail the test.
That’s when the street lamps went out.
“Really?” I muttered. I plucked out one of my earbuds and stood for a second, wondering if the lights would come back on. They didn’t. The new moon did nothing to help. As my eyes adjusted I compromised and stuck the earbud back in. “Guess I’ll walk in the dark, then.”
I stepped with the music as I walked. I hopped off the sidewalk and into the road. My eyes caught the light shining through the front window. My parents must’ve been waiting for me to get home. I observed the time and thought, Pretty late to-
My thoughts were swiftly interrupted. I was thrown on the ground before I had even noticed the car driving towards me. I opened my eyes. Everything was blurry but I could make out a person jumping out of a truck with blasted headlights and running towards me. I heard them yelling, maybe crying out for help. I heard the front doors of neighbors’ houses swinging open accompanied by gasps as people came to where I was. And I heard the voice of my mom getting louder and louder, very quickly.
“Max! Max!” she screamed in despair. She shouted as she talked. It sounded so fuzzy. My drowsy eyes saw her frantically type on her phone and put it up to her ear. “Hello! My son is-”
Everything shut off. It was black, and it was silent. There was nothing.
When I finally opened my eyes it was still dark. I wasn’t on the ground anymore, but I didn’t know where I was.
“Hello?” I called. No response. I called out louder. “Hello!”
At last I saw where I was. I was on a street. The moon and stars were bright against the dark sky. It must have been late, but how was I okay? I felt fine despite being hit seemingly minutes before. I also found it very strange that I was on a street that I had never seen before.
A speeding car turned the corner, and I had no time to react. I watched the bright lights as it drove right through me.
I was shocked. I wasn’t on the ground. I also wasn’t hit, but I was in pain. It felt like I was burning. I looked to my hands, expecting to see fire. They were fine. I walked over to one of the houses and knocked on the door. I waited and hoped they would answer. It felt like hours.
When someone finally did I was bombarded with bright, burning light. I yelled in pain and jumped back, getting out of the light as fast as I could. I looked back to where the person was standing.
“Hmm?” A confused look was on their face.
Did they not see me? I was right in front of them, I wondered. They had to have at least heard my yelling. No one could not hear that.
They looked around for a moment before shutting the door.
I went down the driveway and sat on the curb. What happened? I know I was run over by a truck. I already thought that I could be dead. Maybe I was a ghost or something. But that wouldn’t explain the imaginary fire that burned me whenever I was in the light.
“Light equals pain,” I muttered to myself. “So…light kills me?” I ran my hand through my messy hair. It felt like I was playing Twenty Questions. “So...I’m like...the dark now?”
It was all I could come up with, so I left it at that and stood. I walked around the town. It was odd to be wandering in the dark late at night and to not feel cold or sleepy at all.
I came to a grassy park. There were some kids playing night games.
I heard a quiet voice next to me whisper, “Mommy, I’m scared.”
I turned to see the little girl clinging to her mom’s leg.
The lady dropped her bag off of her shoulder and searched through it. She pulled out a flashlight and handed it to her daughter.
“I thought you might want this,” she whispered.
I bent down to comfort her. “It’s okay. It’s just the dark.”
The girl smiled and switched it on. I fell back and out of the searing light. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad as the sadness and isolation I felt in that moment. She was scared of me.
I stood up, my heart torn. I watched them walk away.
“It’s just me…”
unending desert stream of consciousness
jets rising 45 degrees angularly against the las vegas air
heading outward the desert bowl of barren mountainous hills
glaring sun above, 2 fists high to 10 degrees of incline's rise reposes
the jets carry more out of here while others simultaneously fly back in
their cargo hold full of gold to spend and waste, to dine and entertain
the roar of their kerosene engines make the valley tremble
miners long dead stare in wonder,
their prospects turned to glimmering towers in shimmering heat
they never knew these would push their coins into slots
replaced by papered slips redeemed for more and more
while shosone and mojave indian, native fellow ghosts,
behold in wild wonder such things wrought
the colored lights, feasts to the stomach, the eye and the skin
i stare across outside my high rise signature hotel through the acrylic glass
far into the distant edge of soft and dusty rims of landscape full of drought
beautiful, yet dry and barren bare
overcome by man, made lush by ingenuity of brain, brawn and time
has transformed, transposed his print from rock to streets plush for play to worldwide
jets rising 45 degrees angularly against the las vegas air
heading outward the desert bowl of barren mountainous hills,
while others simultaneously fly back in
their cargo hold full of gold to spend and waste, to dine and entertain
no threat of earthquake, hurricane or any kind of nature's calamity here
water in abundance, electric harnessed power to propel hard earned pleasure
all engines for fun and commerce work in servitude
the white plasma sun suspended above the ground shines brilliantly
it sparkles its rays off vast stretches of patches of cars' steel and glass far down below high rise room
one after another and constant more, jets ferry on the tarmac grounds
prepare for take off for the upteenth times, taxi down and up since the town was born
las vegas, the unending stream since first devised, unending flights soar in and out
the miner ghost goes back in his cave to dig for more of his gold
while the natives who eked a life with this desert long ago
resume their vigilance to fight and stay alive in the killing heat
If I could
If I could, I'd spread my arms and change them into wings
Embrace blue skies with fearless flight as feathers grew
And gaze upon the world that was once so small and all I knew
If I could, I'd swing through mazes of twisted branches
Sliding down the snaking trucks of tall trees
Hopping to the next one with such agility and ease
If I could, I'd race across the snowy tips of the mountains
And with pounding paws and pounding heart run all afternoon
Then, as night fell cast my head back to howl at the harvest moon
Do I Count As A Person
Does a dog count as a person?
Who cares, I say, just like a dog.
I could see a monochrome, I could hear some gibberish,
And unknowingly comfort a sad person.... weird.
But who cares, I say, for I am like a dog.
Does an actress count as a person?
Who am I really, I say, just like an actress.
Love some random guy, memorize some random lines,
Tired of being watched by cameras.... scary.
But who am I really, I say, for I am like an actress.
Does a writer count as a person?
Where is reality, I say, just like a writer.
Full of countless imaginations, full of foolish cliches,
And away from human drama.... cool.
Where is reality, I say, for I am like a writer.
Does a lawyer count as a person?
Which is a lie, I say, just like a lawyer.
Defending lying criminals, jailing condemned innocents,
But I'm confused with which's which.... liar.
But which is a lie, I say, for I am like a lawyer.
Does a bully count as a person?
Who's next, I say, just like a bully.
I like their cries, but they never seem to match,
My cries in the night, begging.... twisted.
But who's next, I say, for I am like a bully.
Does a brat count as a person?
Why didn't you do it, I say, just like a brat.
Blessed with gold, left alone by my workaholic parents,
Fine, I'll call my butler, just you wait.... spoiled.
But why didn't you do it, I say, for I am like a brat.
Does a black count as a person?
Why me, I say, just like a black.
Beaten with sticks and stones, fighting for freedom,
I'll survive this, whatever you do.... courageous.
By why me, I say, for I am like a black.
Does a homeless count as a person?
Where am I, I say, just like a homeless.
Wandered and wandering, a person here and there,
Shunned and rejected, a beggar.... sorry.
But where am I, I say, just like a homeless.
Does being me count as a person?
But who cares, society does.
But where is reality, harsh and still here.
But which is a lie, you are one.
But who's next, it's unexpected.
But why didn't you do it, depression pulled me to bed.
But why me, because you're the easiest prey.
But where am I, nowhere and alone.
But who am I, a nobody.