Archives for 2013

“Home” International Call For Writers by ArtAscent – Deadline December 31, 2013

The competition theme is “Home”. Home can be a building, a room, a space. Home should feel comfortable, a place where you belong. It might be a sanctuary of safety, a group of objects with memories that create a personal timeline, a country or community of people that share a familiarity, or anywhere your loved ones are. Perhaps simply having a warm bed with a cup of tea, or being able to be emotional honest without pretense is your ‘home sweet home’. Show us what home means to you.

Entries may include fiction, non-fiction, poetry, short stories and other written explorations (up to 1000 words). Previously published or unpublished are eligible. Writers retain copyrights.

Artist profile feature in ArtAscent Art & Literature Journal and $50 for the gold winner. At least 3 additional writers will win publication in ArtAscent Art and Literature Journal including links to your website, promotion on ArtAscent website writer directory, and exposure in social media.

Submission deadline: December 31, 2013
See www.artascent.com for submission details and to enter. Void where prohibited.

When the Mockingbird stopped singing

Among a parcel of it’s beautiful fellows,
A Forest filled with all things unique and special,
The Mockingbird was always mimicking their sounds.
A tweet, a croak,
A chirp, a laugh,
A faultless tune that belonged to another,
From Sunrise to Sunset,
A constant Sprite, that fought it’s nemisis Sadness alone
No tune of it’s own,
No voice of it’s own
At times annoying those that it copies.
One always sure to hear one’s own voice when old Mockingbird was there.
Then one day,
The sun rose to silence,
The wind blew without tune,
The Forest had lost it’s joy,
As they looked and saw Mockingbird’s nemesis Sadness, standing over it’s body.

Accident prone

Awkward faces, reckless pacing, steadily jaded, heavily laden with , complex burdens.Quake quick youre shaken, no horns are raging, disturbed concentration.Dazed and dazzled by a melodic tangle cars crashing , death is dashing , dirt and ashes pain is numbing peace is granted.Hearts are singing praise while mourning, eyes weeping , smiles and laughter , life is funny and hugs are handy. I need brandy to feel dandy a child wants candy , its all candid the soul is branded.
Foresight blurry , visions vivid tarnish then vanish , days continue consumed with inniu in a sterile milieu, minds quell , hearts dwell , eyes tell stories gory . Blame the sorry tame the fury, life is scary do not scurry .

Apollo

He looked at me with deep set eyes.
His bow line pulled to a vibration.
Never have I met such a person. Even if he was a god.

Many called him a ‘lesser” god because of his devotion towards poetry and music.
Never has anyone seen him as the god who keeps us all alive.
The warm, yellow sun is his burning to please us, mere humanity, with his presence.

He once showed himself to me, a mere mortal.
He was enveloped in a halo of yellow light.
He walked towards me on his sandals made of mere goat’s leather.
His humbleness was penetrating my heart.
He wore an insignificant ivory white tunic.
His body was glimmering, but it was not as impressive as the other god’s.
On his back, in gold and silver, a bound book of poetry.
Handwritten in silver ink.

In his hands were a wood bow, with fine, gentle insignias of suns and words.
A quiver of arrows, each with a white feather of pure truth attached to it.
If he has to use violence, he will do so with dignity.
He walked towards me once more, I looked in pure astonishment.
He changed shape.

He was now in a pair of blue jeans,
A pair of black and white sneakers
And a red and blue check shirt.
He looked like a normal person.
He wore reading glasses.
Like a normal person.

The bow and arrow still in his hands,
He shot a single shot into the man behind me,
A gun in his hands, he was about to kill me.

My own poetry book in front of me,
A single line in silver,
“Don’t stop writing, it helped me in life.
Sincerely, Apollo.”

Just A Dreamer

I’m just a dreamer trying to change the world one heart at a time;

Let that act as a domino effect changing what I can before my demise;

I want to educate youth about life;

That’s what they need when school comes to an end;

 

I wish they would have lessons on life in school, but they have gym instead;

Surviving life is the most important lesson;

But we lead our youth blindly and when they fall we look at them with questions;

The change starts young, for me it’s too late;

 

So I want the next generation to live the right way;

We need to stop pointing fingers when we are to blame;

They are too young to know about life’s abuse;

So it’s up to me and you;

 

I want the elderly to give classes on wisdom to our youth;

So they are well equipped to face life’s hidden traps;

I wish people could see my point of view instead of just sitting back;

I wish rich people could swap lives with poor people and swap back every week;

 

So we can understand another man’s struggle and not turn away the man begging on the corner of the street;

I wish a damaged heart;

That’s been broken and scared by the past;

Can be given to young girls so they understand the consequences of love and don’t have to ask;

 

Then swap back their hearts so they understand the damage caused by a one night stand;

So they aren’t curious but feel and understand;

I wish I could give my memories to all the young boys who think cheating is cool;

So they feel how it feels when the same is done to you;

 

I want them to understand the results of Karma;

So they think twice before enduring the drama;

I want the youth to understand;

When you mess up in life, there’s no second chance;

 

By your choices you fall or stand;

Having a beard, money and a car doesn’t make you a real man;

Making babies doesn’t make you a dad;

I want to give them responsibility so they don’t fall into debt;

 

So they understand the pressure and never forget;

Before I die this is what I want to see;

But I’m just a dreamer, but I’ll do my best before the Lord calls me;

So in Heaven I can rest in peace, knowing I left behind not just a memory, but a legacy

I Wonder

It’s been over a year since last I saw you;

I pretend I don’t miss you but girl I do;

When by chance we meet in passing I act like I don’t notice you and play it cool;

When inside I hope you’ll greet;

 

I try and act strong when my knees are weak;

And I stumble over my own feet;

I wonder if you really don’t care or like me you’re just pretending;

When you see me by chance does your heart also skip a beat;

 

Or have I faded like a bad memory;

Do my actions fool you?;

Or can you see right through;

Is my mask coming apart at the seams?;

 

Or can you see the broken heart I wear on my sleeve?;

Are you holding him and wishing he was me?;

Cause while I’m with her it’s you I see;

Does he also know your heart is in another place;

 

Cause I’m sure she knows mine is, it’s written all over my face;

Do you try and dial my number when it should be erased?;

I sometimes dial yours even though I know your number changed;

I stay out all night trying to drink my pain away;

 

Do you also come home at sunrise;

Feeling more alone even though you partied all night?;

Do we also meet in your dreams and you cry when you wake;

These are the things I wonder when by chance we meet;

 

Do you also pretend or are you really over me….

Cheating, The Signs

We were just friends at first;

I never planned to fall for her;

You were always my one and only girl;

I was just returning her ways of flirt;

 

She gave me the attention you never did;

She always answers my calls;

The calls you chose to ignore;

Where you left holes she filled the gap;

 

I’m not making excuses, i’m only stating facts

I was wrong I understand that;

But I’m just a man, I was giving you love but you never loved me back;

Everytime I tried to make time;

 

You were always too busy, all those excuses you made;

Eventually the love we had started to fade;

I know I should have told you, but you didn’t want to hear what I had to say;

I’m not the cheating type, I’ve never been that way;

 

We never did anything yet before your imagination runs away;

The empty space you left inside me she replaced;

I’m sorry if I hurt you, it was an unintentional mistake;

I see the tears running down the side of your face;

 

But girl you neglected me every other day;

Love can’t grow if it’s left up to one;

It takes two to make any bond;

I couldn’t keep it alive on my own;

 

We can try again, everyone makes mistakes when they are in love;

You reply and that your tears are not my fault;

Confused, “How do you mean?” I ask;

You reply “I was cheating all along”;

 

My heart instantly tore apart;

You say you wanted to tell me but you just didn’t have the heart;

You were hoping I’d read the signs;

Thinking back, I knew, but my love for you had made me blind;

 

I should have listened to my instincts, they have always been right;

So as you turn and walk away, I promise myself next time to end it when I see these same signs.

You’re More

I remember how their words used to mould me,

Their comments would control me, scold me.

I was tired of being that boy that everybody ran away from when we were in a line, that’s why the thought occurred to me maybe I wasn’t supposed to be in line, maybe, just maybe I was supposed to be out of line…

I will never forget the day when I was at my lowest, knife to wrist, when something, somewhere; some celestial being gave me 2 words. “You’re more.” Those two words made me realise that the true revenge is for me is to torture my enemies with one simple concept: Them having to watch me succeed. I decided that they would have no choice but to watch me be somebody, I decided that that lonely, awkward misunderstood boy who everybody used to run away from, tease ,humiliate , hurt , push , shove, shout at would be their hope. So I would go everyday behind my smile, it was precious to me, it was golden. I decided to live every day , the sun was my limelight , I danced , I would dance even when the audience walked away .Still I would dance, harder, faster , knowing someday, one day… they’d stay. But the crowd was so harsh, they tore me apart called me names, but all I heard was the roar, them asking for more, I suppose I was tired, tired of crying, It’s not easy, too dramatic ! I wanted those scenes to stay on the stage, they didn’t. it’s never easy but I know that I’ll never be faced with something I cannot handle .It’s tough, so tough, I still dance, so hard, so strong, I dance for that boy, maybe he’ll be still, he’s a baby crying, wailing but I’m going to dance I taught him to dance but I suppose that boy is still in there he’s still crying, but at least he isn’t dying. I’ve realised that I can only wipe the tears away by dancing, harder, faster, stronger, and longer so the world can see. There are two words, to remind that sad, hurt, teased lonely boy,

“You’re more.”

The Fame: A dark truth

I’m so tired; I’m tired of and living in a world where I’m not allowed,

Tired of getting up every day having to pretend I’m comfortable when the limelight is so hot, it burns me. Having to pretend I’m just another brick in the wall just so you can feel comfortable in the plain world you’re living in. it’s what I crave its security, fame: my security.

Where’s the jazz the lights, the audience, my audience where are they! They’re waiting for me to get out there, to be a star to wow the crowd but the truth is I’ll never feel their ovation. They scream, so loud but I’m deaf, deaf to the fact that I’m theirs. I’m the star, not a human being. I need to stop crying. I’m living the dream I’ve done it. I’m finally there, theirs. I asked for this life begged prayed, it’s finally here but why are there so so so very many tears. I need to get out there, push on, because it’s live, I’m alive.

The Who

Is it far fetched when garments garner stars flesh
and lets us ponder upon the comets last wish?
Ask what,
basking sun rays plagued by the darks star dust,
The WHO must have mustered the blues before us.
The WHO said it, I meant choose your sedative son,
when I see babies playing in mud pools fooling truth and loosing their youth young,
It’s done, the WHO came and laid the moon down,
look as love comes front of your cheque book crooked frown.
Took it to heart sharp with eyes round,
Can’t I part your mind and die where your souls found?
round and round, the WHO keeps spinning time bound,
down and down pounded out of blind clouds.
Who are we proud of?
This time the WHO is present and let’s find the past tense
fenced in denial.
I penned it in a whisper, slipping through her blistered eyes,
Child, why???
Shelled in misfit lines, this citrus bride marred to part divine,
farther than the WHO spooled through Cupids rise.
Few knew the putrid hoofs might,
shackled lucid in the truest moonlight,
soon danced on faceless graves, hatred trailing blue in hindsight,
labelling proof and arrived at, the WHO must have gave us life!
Save us, when days tripled sixteen ways gave us night,
described in mystique and killed his bride,
misread Exodus, hence the plead to fight,
need for peace corps, he brought signs in section five,
dissected by, live mimes directed by the silent hype,
neglect the WHO???
Shit, we already tried.
——————————————
Who blew the moon out?
Rippled through the groove, proving the fool shouts,
about the clock tick writing down wicked doubts,
slipping through the rooms mouth.
He moved to mind play tracing the true route,
bound to find it here.
Louder than the angels whisper rain in natures ear,
Has the frown finally disappeared?
Hades teach us, these teeth are aching to tear your flesh,
Where were we when HE graced Eve with breath?
Placed me to teach and I gave each a page from the sacred text.
The WHO knew we’d ask and blessed each with legs,
hence the Wiseman who takes his pain to bed
and wakes a fool taking the day to death,
praying some may but they hang before he even breaks a sweat.

© Myles Dacus 2013