Die Softly

I recently discovered Apple Music. I know what you’re thinking… That’s not new! Okay, you’re right, but I finally decided to give it a try and will even get the first three months free! I’ve literally been listening to it non-stop for two days. Music, for me, inspires my writing. It always has. So, this morning, I found an image and away I went. Love it! 😁

img_0408Die Softly

Rain plummeted to earth; huge drops pelted her painfully.

Drenched…

So cold…

Blue lips trembled…

Cobblestones tore into her tender knees; blood lightly curled within the flowing rainwater, like a fragile pink flower that shattered and dissipated in the rivulets.

Her gaze focussed fervently upon the sweet, familiar face of the man who’d raised her. Who’d loved her no matter how badly she behaved. Who’s smile had encouraged her to be herself, to follow her dreams. And, that was exactly what she’d done.

Overconfident, pushy and outspoken, she’d stirred one too many hornets’ nests.

…and her father had paid for it.

Forced to watch as her father was tortured…

Dragged through the streets and publicly crucified…

His death, agonizing…

Left for all to see…

The ache in her heart was more than she could stand. Sobs, that had long since ripped apart her throat, still moved past a slack-jaw, silently.

They were no fools. They knew hurting her would never stop her.

This was far more effective…

This would gut her…

This would destroy her…

…killing her softly…

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Shortcut

I’m officially on holidays, and I’m feeling great.  The weather here has been surprisingly nice.  I’d have to say this has been a mild winter.  I think I can actually see summer on the horizon…way…over…there… 🌴 😎

The other day, I worked on another creative snippet.  I had a wee bit of trouble getting into it for some reason, but then it just started to work.  Gotta love that.

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Shortcut

She’d taken this shortcut a million times, but tonight, something was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Half the fluorescent lights above her head were burned-out, and the remaining ones buzzed and flickered like a cheap bug zapper. Shadows danced eerily upon stoney walls. A hint of vapour swirled low and wound itself around around her legs. She sidestepped it, watching it warily. The hair at the nape of her neck twitched, making her itchy and adding to her discomfort.

She smelled it before she heard it; a foul, decaying, nauseating smell. She wrinkled her nose, and swallowed back the bile that scalded her throat. Something shifted and moved in the darkness ahead. She swallowed again and again, trying to moisten the dryness in her throat. Her heart skipped a beat, then skittered and throbbed hard against her chest. Blood pulsed loudly in her ears.

There was a soft growl. She almost missed it. But it wasn’t ahead of her…it was behind her

She trembled, hard. And each short, raspy breath ricocheted from her tight, aching lungs and hissed softly between clenched teeth. She heard cavernous jaws open, and hot, fetid breath moved her hair. Thick, slimy saliva dripped onto the back of her head. Her eyes bulged in terror…but there was no time to scream.

 

 

 

Dark Pleasures

Smack dab in the middle of Canada, we’re feeling the bite of winter, and up to our eyeballs in snow. Gotta love living in a place where snowblowers, winter tires, and a working furnace are key to surviving the Canadian winter.

For me, bundled in my cozy “Game of Thrones” blanket, listening to good tunes, and sipping on a hot coffee, I suddenly felt inspired. I know, it’s weird, but thas how I roll. 😁

Athough it’s been a while since I last posted on my blog, I’m always expressing my creative energy in one way or another. Lately, I’ve gotten back to dabbling with creative snippet writing exercises; I grab an image from online and let my imagination go. The nice thing about these exercises is that I can go on for as long as I want, or just create a brief snapshot of whatever pops into my head. Yup, yup, I love it!

Dark Pleasures

Dawn pierced through dense, gray clouds, and tendrils of light danced and sparkled upon choppy water. Broken timber and broken bodies crack the water’s surface, bobbed, then disappeared, only to break the surface again beneath the turbulent tutelage of the ocean.

Canvas snapped overhead. Mast timber creaked and moaned. Ropes groaned and strained. Feet planted upon a roughly hewn deck, the stance wide, guarded against the sway and roll of the ship. Blackened wood and masts remained hidden from view, obscured by a dingy overcast. The distant ships were unaware they had an observer.

Blue eyes watched the line of ships in the distance with interest. Their struggle amused him. The storm reeked havoc upon their fleet, the loss of life was staggering. He put the spyglass to his eye again. At the moment, he didn’t need to do a thing; Mother Nature in all her glory was taking care of things for him. The cries of the dying tickled his senses. He wondered if Farrow was amongst them. But no matter, if the sea did not swallow his miserable hide, the blue-eyed man would allow him to taste his cutlass.

His own ship rocked and pitched in the raucous ocean, and he was soaked to the bone. But he had absolute faith in his crew. His men moved quickly and silently, tending to his ship’s every need, allowing their captain his small pleasure. The captain tucked the spyglass into his belt and nodded at his first mate.

“To shore, Mr. Talbot,” the captain ordered. “We shall tend to the tempest’s leavings on the morrow.”

Gilded Walls

I was relaxing to some music and as it often happens to me, a song can set words tumbling around in my mind and I must put pen to paper, or in this instance, fingers to keyboard and just let the words flow.

GILDED WALLS

Behind these gilded walls…
I cannot find peace.
They surround me
Tower over me
Blanket the sun
Steal my breath away.

Ragged pain strikes me down
Shattering coherence
Leaving me weak.
My knees bloodied and bruised
I struggle to stand
Shaken to the core.

Behind these gilded walls…
Erected to save me.
To keep out the darkness
To stave off the whispers
To fend off the pain
To keep chaos at bay.

Isolated and alone
Mine own lies scald my ears
And rip at my throat.
Demons within flourish

Filling that which was once filled with light
Quelling the beauty of my heart.

Behind these gilded walls…
My soul begs to be free.
Fists beat upon cold stone
Cracks splinter and writhe
Light pierces the darkness
I feel its warmth upon my face.

Weakened
The walls shudder and moan
And crumble all around chaotically.
Amidst the settling dust
The darkness fades to light
And a soul…is reborn.

Precipice 

Good morning!  I felt inspired and went with it.   Yup, yup, the day is looking up!

darkness--large-msg-129307814097Precipice

Darkness comes
Mired in crushing obscurity
Poaching mindlessly
A gaping maw on a feeding frenzy.

Derelict and discarded
Radiance withers and recoils
Scrambling to far corners
Trembling and bewildered.

Whispers waft
Like icy fingers upon warm flesh
Taunting senses
Scattering fragile reality.

Vaporous thoughts
Ambiguous dreams
Distorted lexes
A rendering of defective intellect.

Teetering upon razors edge
Vile ignorance assaults senses
A sentence of inadequacy
A life desperate to be saved.

Synaptic Odyssey

I’m sure it’s pretty obvious by now that when I write I love to play with words; utilizing the ones that tickle my creative fancy. Call it a quirk. Call it ingenuity. Call it pretty much anything you like. Then just kick back and enjoy my latest piece.  😀

Synaptic Odyssey

Raw, twisted contemplations
contort and malign
the sheer elegance of humanity.

Fed by malcontent
and harboured self-loathing,
it pays homage to sinister delusion.

Phantasmagorias set the synapses firing riotously
almost painfully,
acutely carving striations into the cortex.

Insinuations,
erroneous statistics,
faulty philosophies,
dire envy,
fanciful desires.

A synaptic odyssey
into the mire of perfect imperfection,
deep-seated in an intolerant mind.

Beautiful Dreamer

Lately, I’ve been inspired to write and it’s a very good feeling.  I love when creativity takes flight within me; it feels like a kaleidoscope of colour and light spinning through my head, almost dizzying.  When I breath life into a poem, it’s like a movie unfolding before my eyes and I gotta get it written down.  The following image inspired the following poem – Beautiful Dreamer.  Enjoy.

Beautiful Dreamer

Dreams…
Unscathed by humanity
Or by complexity
Or by darkness.

So vivid of colour
So sweet of smell
So bewitching to the ears
So tangible to the touch.

Softness of breath
So peaceful
So safeguarded
So effortless.

Existential anxieties
Fade to warm simplicity
A dawning of sheer delight
In the birth of love.

Such is the beautiful dreamer
Such is a child…

Towards the sky

I truly enjoy taking long walks. Especially when those walks take me along the river. I’m always inspired. There’s a few things going on in my life of late, and many times I find that I turn my face towards the sky, taking comfort in the beautiful endless blue and the warmth of the sun. On a recent walk, as I looked towards the sky again, the words “towards the sky” hit me, and a poem just started to flow. I immediately sat down on a bench and hammered it out. So, the following is what transpired from that moment. Enjoy!

Towards the Sky

One door closes
another opens
if only
you’d let yourself see.

Hanging on tight
to what you had
blind to all
that lays ahead.

So afraid
of all the change
to stumble and fall
to turn the page.

Take a breath
and give it one more try
it’s all right there
just take hold.

You are so strong
I am so proud
I have faith in you
even if you don’t.

You are not alone
I’m here for you
so take my hand
I’ll never let go.

Dreams are made
by what’s inside
so turn your face
towards the sky.

Close your eyes
and feel the sun
let it warm you
and fill you with hope.

One step at a time
you don’t have to run
just move ahead
and don’t give up.

You’ve got it now
I knew it was so
there’s that smile
I’ve been waiting for.

Determination
fills your soul
never look back
only forward.

No more doubt
no regrets
one door closes
and one opens wide
let yourself inside.

Scorched

Unleashing the worst in ourselves for the sake of the written word.  Sounds ominous, but as writers, we do this all the time.  Create dark, exciting stories that the reader can safely be a part of without the worry of any repercussions.  Sweet deal?  I’d say.  Check out the following, and let’s skirt the dark side together for a lil bit.

Scorched

I fear nothing
at the cost of everything.
The city bitterly weeps
blood-filled tears,
turning the streets crimson.

Fires rage,
torching the sky,
scorching the earth,
burning the very essence
of man from existence.

I move,
under the cover of night,
amidst a haze of grey smoke,
sight unseen.

My blade
is my companion,
moulding beautifully to my hand,
its weight perfect.
Perfectly deadly.

They will remember this night.
They will remember my name.
For like the flames
that lick at the heavens,
I will sear my revenge
into their very souls.

They will know fear.
They will know pain.
And like me,
they will never forget.

I’m very intrigued by the fantasy art that I come across.  They inspire me to delve deeply into the darkness and pull words from that abyss.  Sometimes when I see an image, the words just tumble free.  Other times, I need to study the image, and think:  what is this image saying to me?  The best part is that it will speak to me differently than someone else.  I tend to think about assassins, war, revenge, you know, the sweet and fluffy stuff.  Where others, might see an angel of mercy.  Not that I don’t see the possibility of an angel of mercy, but she will definitely be kicking some butt in my version.

So I wonder, why the need to write about darker subjects.  I think I’m fairly normal (although, that could be up for debate by some =P ).  So what is the draw to the dark side?  Sure, Darth Vader makes it sound good.  And, I’ve heard they have cookies – hey, I’ve seen the bumper stickers too.  So, what’s the allure, on both the writer’s and the reader’s part.  Stephen King said it perfectly in his book Danse Macabre:

“It deliberately appeals to all that is worst in us.  It is morbidity unchained, our most base instincts let free, our nastiest fantasies realized…and it all happens, fittingly enough, in the dark.  King goes on to say, “…as lifting a trapdoor in the civilized forebrain and throwing a basket of raw meat to the hungry alligators swimming around in that subterranean river beneath.  …. It was Lennon and McCartney who said that all you need is love, and I would agree with that.  As long as you keep the gators fed.” 

And he would know, cuz he’s definitely the “King” of horror.  Oh yes, pun intended.  So, standing on the precipice of light and dark is normal?  Well, that does makes me feel a bit better then.

Let the darkness reign free!  But let’s keep it to pen and paper only.  Um’kay?  =)

Apathy

OMG, I’ve crawled outta the woodwork and posted a blog!  Wowza!  Where have I been?  I’ve been asking myself that very question.  Where did the time go??  I swear I was only gonna take off a couple weeks, then BAM, months blew by.  Ugh.

Anyhoo, winter was actually pretty amazing, but I have to admit, I’m still glad it’s over.  Bring on summer!

My daughter’s curling season is over too, but she wowed us by winning three trophies this year!  Including club champions!  Dat’s my girl.  =D

So, in my home resides a veritable zoo – a bunny and two cats.  Okay, maybe to some that may not be a zoo, but my house is rather small, so it certainly feels like a zoo.  Phoenix, the newest addition, has a personality all her own.  She loves to eat — anything!  And I mean anything.  Recently, when I was washing the dishes, she plopped herself right next to me and meowed at me like she wanted something.  So, thinking it would be funny, I took a handful of bubbles and put it on her head.  It actually was rather funny to watch her contort to get them off, but what surprised me is that she ate the bubbles!  What??  Yah, I kid you not!  Now every time I do dishes, there she is, waiting for her serving of bubbles.  Yup, dat’s my kitty.

Now, getting to my writing project, I tilted to the darker side.  Wait…me, dallying on the dark side — big surprise.  LOL.  Enjoy!

Apathy

I am darkness
Flawed and tormented and dangerous.
I am bent
Perhaps even twisted
But not broken.
Bereft of love
My heart is black as night.
I struggle with a sliver of humanity.
It haunts me
And I despise it.

It flaunts itself
Sickly sweet kindness
Dripping with sarcasm.
Only fools believe in humanity.
Hidden behind scars and apathy
I have no use for it.
It has never served me well.

Hatred smoulders deep in my belly
Quelling all claims to humanity.
I prefer it that way.
My eyes, soulless
I am an empty vessel
Put on this earth for one purpose;
Destruction.
And if I die today
Hell awaits me
…and I welcome it.