Category Archives: Original Works

Defy Your Fear to Fly [Original Poem]

Defy Your Fear to Fly

When I look towards the mirror
I never touch the glass
I’m afraid I’ll grace reflections
Of a long and haunted past
I keep my spirit upbeat
As I forever lend my voice
Hoping that you’ll hear me
Hoping you still have a choice
And as I wait for your responses
Inside I refuse to cry
For the heights must come to matter
As we push our fears aside
And we might not stick the landing
The risk exists for me to try
The heights must come to matter
I must defy your fear to fly

 

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Faint Signs [Original Poem]

FAINT SIGNS

I wasn’t missing out
On what came from within
Never turned my back on those
That kept on looking in
As I checked my pulse for signs
Of the loved lives in between
I realized everyone who noticed
Was more than what they seemed
Now I can stand in the daylight
And boldly address the night
Knowing that the souls that dare look down
Will join me in the fight
If the connections are right
The feelings will follow
And the sin of those faint signs
Will remind us we’re mortal

Don’t Leave Without A Song

 

 

Talk about all the things you take for granted
Wish them well as you move on
And who cares if the latest difference
Diminishes the sun
We see all the clearer stars
The light flickers through the dark
As hazy as our minds get
Our souls rarely stand apart
And if you say it’s all your fault
And you feel you’ve hung around too long
Remind yourself of what’s behind you
Don’t leave without a song

Not Enough In The Bowl [Original Children’s Story]

NOT ENOUGH IN THE BOWL


Sophie Harewood liked a little too much of everything.

She liked to have more toys than all of her brothers and sisters

She liked to have more toothpaste on her toothbrush when polishing her teeth for a visit to the dentist.

She liked to have more than one television in her bedroom, in case one broke down.

She liked to buy more than one comic book every Saturday.

She liked to have a lot in life.

But then came dinner time.

Oh yes, dinner time.

Her mother had prepared a speciality. Two bowls worth of prime cut chicken laced with two kinds of Sophie’s favourite sauce, with rice and bread as side orders.

Sophie tucked into the rice, and she picked away at the contents of the bowl, taking one piece of chicken, two pieces of chicken, and a third, all from each of the two bowls.

…And then she stopped.

“Whatever is the matter dear?” asked her mother

Sophie folded her arms and stared sharply at her mother

“There’s not enough in the bowl” she said

“Whatever do you mean?” asked her mother

Sophie pointed to the contents of the bowls, there were still two pieces of chicken left in each.

“Not enough in each” she said.

“But what is the problem?” asked her mother.

“I want to have a full plate, I want more of it” snapped Sophie

“But there isn’t any more chicken” her mother explained

“What?” Sophie asked.

“I used it all up for this meal” her mother revealed.

Sophie scowled and kicked the legs of the table in a fit of loud, visible anger.

“I want more” she said

“Then all you have to do is pick the bits out of the bowl” said her mother

“But there’s not enough” Sophie said.

“Yes there is, certainly enough to fill you up for the day” said her mother

“But I wanted a much fuller meal” protested Sophie

“You can get more than enough from the pieces you have left ” her mother assured her.

Sophie did not seem to understand her.

“No, there is not enough in the bowl, I won’t eat more until there is more” she said, putting her foot down

“I can’t go to the store now dear, they’re closed at this time of day” her mother explained.

“Then I shall not eat another bite” said Sophie.

“Why must you be so silly?” said her mother, taking the bowls away.

“Why must you be so lazy and not add more to my meals?” snapped Sophie angrily.

“Go to your room” said Sophie’s mother.

Sophie did so, beginning to shed a few tears.

Her mother felt bad, and asked her husband if he could borrow a DVD of his.

She waited an hour or so, waiting for things to settle, then she went upstairs and entered Sophie’s bedroom

“Here, let me put this on for you” her mother said, putting a DVD into one of her two players.

Mother and daughter sat together on the bed, watching the DVD, it was a funny little movie about people with pointy ears making weird hand gestures and saying any one who put forth a nonsensical point or argument was “highly illogical”

Sophie laughed at the pointy-eared men, but she found her mother laughed more whenever they said “highly illogical”

“Why are you laughing Mummy?” Sophie asked.

“Because our argument today was just that…highly illogical. Logic plays a part in every conversation…it allows us to make sensible points when talking to one another. You thought there was not enough in the bowl, but logically, you should have still finished everything in the bowl regardless. You would still have had enough to eat. Your brain did not process that piece of logic”

“So I am like those pointy-eared men? I’m illogical?” Sophie replied.

“No, they are the logical ones, I’m one of them, I was using logic” said her mother

“Your ears aren’t as sharp as theirs” said Sophie.

Her mother laughed.

“What is it?” Sophie asked

“You just made a very logical observation” said her mother

Sophie smiled, “I am one of them then”

Mother and daughter held each other tight and continued watching the movie.

Later, as her mother put young Sophie to bed, making sure to give her more teddy bears to sleep with than her younger brothers and sisters in their own rooms, Sophie rose up from her bed and asked her mother a question

“When you make your special chicken next time…could you leave more in the bowl…is that…logical?”

Sophie’s mother did not have the stamina to argue logic with her daughter at this time of night.

“The only logical thing you need to know is my love for you is more than enough”

Grief’s Pure Cold

GRIEF’S PURE COLD

It’s a very different sort of dark

When we deal with the loss of light

The  moments we reflect most fondly on

Are our courage in the fight

As time takes eternal steps ahead

And as we move as one with it

We pray our kindest days before

Provide us with due credit

We reflect, we rise, we raise a toast

As winter turns to spring

A little early to call on the sun

But these times demand we sing

We close our eyes, we let our day slip

We know this procedure all too well

What we take from it is a moment

Where we realize there’s still much more to tell

The stories, the legends, the place souls lost to us hold

Our minds, our hearts, our spirits soar

As love decays grief’s pure cold

God Turns The Faucet-A Short Play

 

GOD TURNS THE FAUCET

A SHORT PLAY

 

INT: MOTEL BEDROOM

(We start in PITCH BLACK. No light, no sound, except for maybe the flicking of a magazine, indicating someone is reading. There is a LOUD KNOCK on the DOOR)

VOICE (MALE):

It’s me

(We hear small but audible FOOTSTEPS as someone lost in the inky blackness opens the door, before they do so, they SWITCH ON THE LIGHT.

As the room LIGHTS UP, we find it is a MURKY, UNORGANIZED  MESS. A SOFA in the center of the room has visible SPRINGS sticking out of it, with several pieces of DRENCHED CLOTHING spread over the back of it.

The person answering the door, a FEMALE, EARLY TWENTIES,  HAIR IN  A PONYTAIL, WEARING A PINK T-SHIRT AND TORN JEANS, greets a YOUNG MALE, ROUGHLY THE SAME AGE, wearing a BRIGHT BLUE BLAZER and RED SHORTS, he is DRENCHED, it is raining heavily outside)

FEMALE:

I told you to take the trenchcoat, look at you, you’re soaking

MALE:

It’s not my fault God turned the faucet on  before I got back

FEMALE:

I watch the weather for a reason

MALE:

Did you get the tickets?

FEMALE:

I got the autographs too

MALE:

You haven’t been out of this room, how’s that possible?

FEMALE:

Shopped online for ‘em

MALE:

I thought you wanted to get autographs in person?

FEMALE:

Yeah but, like you said, God turned the faucet on.

MALE:

You’d rather spend time and money cheating yourself out of a live experience because you don’t want to get your hair wet?

FEMALE:

I was just going to shower

MALE:

One of the deals we made is that if I got the tickets, we’d try to make the most out of the day and find opportunities to make a statement back home. We would have our chance to brag for once.

FEMALE:

Yeah, well maybe I’m up for bragging on my own time.

MALE:

You’re impossible.

FEMALE:

That’s very possible

(The man sits on the edge of the bed)

MALE:

That bed’s creaking an awful lot

FEMALE:

Yeah, I mean, we haven’t even started on it yet

MALE:

Excuse me?

FEMALE:

What?

MALE

I didn’t quite hear you there

FEMALE:

Well then get hearing aids

MALE:

What haven’t we started?

FEMALE:

Sex

MALE:

You want to have sex?

FEMALE:

Not yet, I was thinking after

MALE:

That’s a problem

FEMALE:

How so?

MALE

 I’m your buddy

FEMALE

Yeah, you are, that’s why I want to do this

MALE

You can’t just ask a friend to have sex with you, what if…

FEMALE

Yeah, ‘What If’

MALE

Huh?

(she sits down on the bed beside him, she holds his hands tight)

FEMALE:

My mother used to tell me IF was the most powerful word in the English language….so many possibilities, so many options, some of the best feelings, some of your worst, all come from asking a question to yourself…

MALE:

Doubting yourself?

FEMALE:

No, no silly, challenging yourself. To see how you measure up as a human being

MALE:

Having sex with your close friends is your idea of ‘measuring up?

FEMALE:

…You’re gonna say it…

MALE:

Say what?

FEMALE:

Keep going

MALE:

I’m thinking of repercussions…if…

FEMALE:

There you go

MALE:

If I hurt you…

FEMALE:

You won’t

MALE:

If I do…

FEMALE:

I’ll forgive you

MALE:

Like that?

FEMALE:

Like that

MALE:

I’d never fall out with you either. You mean too much to me.

FEMALE:

See? I’ve got nothing to be afraid of, and neither do you

MALE:

This is the part where I say ‘I love you’ and we snuggle a bit right?

FEMALE

We’re not lip locking

MALE:

Unfair

FEMALE:

Go with the Eskimo kisses.

MALE

Why? You feeling chilly? Like them?

FEMALE:

‘Course I’m chilly, so are you, God DID turn the faucet on

Wisdom’s Teeth Leave Scars

 

WISDOM’S TEETH LEAVE SCARS

Meet Harold. He is a sorcerer.  The land of Pompitope is where he hails from.

It looks like a pretty dull place to the trained and educated eye.

It’s a paradise to the naive.

All the up and coming sorcerers think this place is a stepping stone; it’s where they’ll take a step above.

Harold and his friends all have this big dream of being the most discussed, most debated of their kind in all of Pompitope.

They had heard stories though, that whenever the young and inspired come back from atop the summit of Mount Nuent, that they come back with but one thing.

Wisdom.

And it depressed them.

And no one questioned why. Noone was allowed to get a word in on the matter in fact; all the young Sorcerers just went back to work.

And work was all they considered it by this point. Not fun, not a hobby, just work. They considered this a way to making a living, they weren’t embracing it as a way of life; they were making it the means for which to pay the cost of living.

Harold and his friends had heard these whispers, but took no heed of their warnings. They would travel to Mount Nuent, and they vowed they would come back to their homeland with a zest for life, the means to take it head on and embrace its ups and downs.

This would be their greatest test, they diligently researched every spell they could learn, and even reminded themselves of the spells they had already practiced and mastered time and again, and they would journey to Nuent at the fourth setting of the suns that day.

When that moment came, ‘Harold’s Hoarde’ as the villagers called them, made their way to the mountain. As they ascended, the fearsome conditions, as predicted by them, provided the test of endurance.

Violent winds threatened to sweep them off their feet, but a wave of their wands made them lighter than air.

A treacherous and raging waterfall stood between them and the next stage of the path, but a wave of their wands forged a steep bridge connecting them to the other side of the mountain.

Howling masked banshees that clung to the sides of the cliffs reached out to tempt the men, but the Wizards set about unmasking each of them, and with a wave of their wands, they created mirrors for each of them. Transfixed by their own beauty, the banshees left the Wizards to ascend the remainder of the mountain.

Finally, they reached their destination, and were awarded with an audience with the wise Wizards of the land. Those fables had decreed to be so powerful, that they possessed the means to create life itself.

Harold and his friends asked if they could bring something to life, something with raw, potent emotion, a zest for life, and had flaws it would have to overcome.

The wise Wizards, excited, began discussing what the creature would look like. After a couple of hours, it became clear this was all they were discussing.

Nothing about what kind of flaws it would have, what conceptions of faith could challenge its belief in itself, what causes it could join to determine in its long life if it would serve a great good or evil. None of that, the wise Wizards wanted to know if it should have a fourth eye or a seventh sense.

Harold argued that the creature had to make sense.

The wise Wizards laughed at this, and replied “It’s magic, it doesn’t have to make sense”

Harold and his friends gritted their teeth, and opted to depart Nuent that night, and returned home earlier than scheduled. They put their wands away, they greeted their wives and kids with a warm embrace and from there sought out a job in the local paper, looking to make ends meet.

They had gained wisdom that evening, and learned their most bitter lesson.

Harold’s hoard would work hard to serve life rather than challenge it, they would pay the bills, they would raise the next generation, and they would give them a different kind of advice. They hoped that their wisdom would leave no trace of the scars their own epiphanies had provided.

Life had to make sense of itself, or all its creatures would lose all sense of it.