A poetic journey through my mind

Archive for August, 2013

Three

Three-in-the-morning zone. Too late to sleep but to early to wake-up. Nothing to do, no one to see…nothing to see, no one to do…empty time. Fill the hours, or throw them away, it doesn’t matter. Anything you do in 3AM* vanishes into the multiverse, never to be scene. Unscripted time. Improv life. Anything can happen, but nothing ever does, in 3AM. When you live in the 3AM zone, you live in between. Wherever you are, it feels like a dead, cheap hotel room, with that feeling of breathing the worlds boredom like stale nicotine of the mind. Disjointed thoughts and foggy muscles, eternity in an hour or two. Can you find inspiration, crystal bright clear and shining? No. Can you find energy, buzzing and beautiful, body afire and ready to go? No. What you find at 3AM is you. Only and always you. Closet mirrors, bits of window, reflecting the smog-and-sog brain fog pale-and-clammy broken cog beast that is you…in 3AM.

(*pronounced “thream”, to rhyme with “scream”)


Random Pre-teen Whovian!

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Just had to share this…too much fun to keep to myself.  I know I’m easily amused, it’s part of being 4 going on 44, but this was cool.  *g*

Sitting in CVS (big chain drugstore) waiting for a prescription to come in, kid runs past and my first thought was “hmm…long coat?” That got my attention, and then I almost squee-ed out loud and barely managed to keep it in so as to not scare the poor kid. *laughs* Full Matt Smith Dr. Who. Well, all but the fez. Coat, bow-tie, sonic screwdriver…just perfect. Kid couldn’t’ve been older than 12. Listened to a bit of fen-talk between a random patron and the kid…”Y’know, there’s a theory that the Dr. is the Master, only from the future…No way, cause that’d mean that he came back…” They walked out of earshot, but I don’t think my grin went away until I left the store. The Geek Shall Inherit the Earth! *giggles*

 


Happy rest-of-my-life day to me… ;)

It’s my birfday!!  I am a whole 4 yrs. old!  Er…um…I mean 44…really.  ;p

Wanna show you my favorite birfday present, from my best bud, Ben.

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Alice in Wonderland as Miyazaki’s Totoro!  Since two of my favorite things are anything Alice, and (almost) anything Japanese…well, it just rocks, that’s all.

Speaking of Japanese, and rocking…have any of you heard BabyMetal yet?  Adorable little Japanese girls…singing heavy metal, with a uniquely Japanese twist.  “Headbanger” and “Megitsune” are my faves, although so far I’ve loved everything they’ve come out with.

One more pic…just because.

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Hooray for summer in Florida… >.<

KC, Mia, Dutch, Janie, and Kitsune-na-shiteki.

 


Fiction Relay: Suzi’s Saga Chapter 38

(Once again I get to play in the awesome writers playground that is the shared story, “Suzi’s Saga” or “A symphony in Blue”.  ;p  Hopefully you’ve read some of the other chapters, but if not and you want to catch up, follow this link to find links to the other 37 chapters, and even the names of the perpetrators of this deed.  Here’s to my fellow FR’ers…hope you like it!)

With a squeal born of pure rage and hysteria, Melissa stared wide-eyed at the apparition, the sudden appearance of the hated one temporarily destroying her fragile hold on sanity. Fingers like claws, she grabbed for Blue, trying to grab her collar, eyes still locked on Suzi’s. As Suzi’s mocking grin grew wider, Melissa’s fingers groped impotently, and she turned her head…and saw an empty seat.
“Wha…what??” She scrambled across to the door, tried the latch, and shook her head again, confused. “It’s still…still locked? But…” With a snarl, she turned on Suzi, eyes glowing as she gathered her power to her…only to find the window closed as well. Scrabbling at the latch, desperate for some explanation, some…sense, she heard the sound of car horns fade in, outside, and the rush of traffic.
The window slid open, and the voice of the driver drifted back, sounding bored and impatient. “You ok, lady? Need some help getting out? We’re here…” Baffled, she looked to the car windows, and saw the street in front of her hotel, as noisy and real as if it’d never gone away. “I…”
~Come on, Mel…pull yourself together, girl. Something freaky is happening…what’s new about that? But above all we can’t let anyone know we’re upset…or inconvenienced…in any way. Just breathe…~
With a deep breath and a brush at her ruffled hair, she spoke, pitching her voice low to sound in control. “No, this’ll be fine…thank you for making such good time. How much do I owe you?” The man shrugged. “Well, with the extra stop to pick up your friend, I guess…$40?” Bemused, she pulled the money out of her bag and paid, stepping carefully and slowly out onto the well lit pavement of the hotel entrance.
As she turned to go, the man called out. “Hey! Don’t forget your “luggage”!” and she heard the trunk latch click. Moving slowly still, she moved to the open trunk, and blinked at the blanked-wrapped bundle inside. For some reason she felt as if she should recognize it…didn’t it belong to her? But the memory fell from her confused mind like water, evaporating as it went.
Blinking again, she motioned to a bellman, and asked for help carrying the bundle to her room. Following the cart, locked in her own head, she made her way to the room. Placing the bundle on the floor at the foot of the bed, she slumped down beside it, one hand resting on it…and fell asleep.

As Blue opened her eyes, the familiar walls of Spence’s room at the compound fading into view, she burst into delighted laughter, picturing the look on Melissa’s face. “Oh, lord. I wish I was there to see it. Wonder how soon it faded? Hope she made it “home”…we still need her. Need all of them, unfortunately. For now. Until mom and I are together again…”
She sobered for a moment, turning the image she’d plucked from Melissa’s mind over and over in her mind.
~Hmm…I do kinda look like her. Good. More her than him, thank god. That’ll help her recognize me, I hope…if she can’t just feel me, like I feel her.~
Still a bit dizzy from the effects of the unexpected alcohol, and the brand new feeling of “Jumping”, she sat down on Spence’s bed, briefly considering how nice a quick nap would feel. Sighing, she shook her head, and stood. “Time to go get my baby back…and show that guy what happens when he drugs the wrong person.” Grinning happily, she strode out of the room, her steps confident and sure.

In the Clubs private dining room, its panoramic glass windows looking out over the beautiful view, dominated by the sacred mountain that loomed in the distance, three pairs of eyes stared at the man calling himself Sanderson. Jose, a confused look on his face, looked at them. “You did not know this? You did not know that this…this witch, this destroyer-of-beauty, was their leader? And yet you came seeking him…” His eyes thoughtful, he settled back in his chair, watching them all now, warily.
“Sanderson” laughed, the hearty laugh of a strong man, and nodded his head to one of the brick walls. “Bring me Spencer…I need to have a word with him, and I want these folks to hear.” With a nod, the man left. He moved surprisingly lightly and silently, although he had to turn sideways to fit through the door.
“So…” “Sanderson” turned back to face the others, winking at Ephraim as he did. “You must be “Ephraim”. The Seer. It is a pleasure to meet you again. I am pleased to see that you have learned discipline and discretion as you matured.”
Chuckling at Ephraims baffled expression, he turned to Sam. “And you would be “Sam”…the See-er.” He laughed at his own joke, even though the rest just looked puzzled. “Be careful how deeply you See…some things do not -wish- to be seen, and have the power to make you regret crossing them. On the other hand, you are the father of my favorite pupil, so I can forgive you much.”
“And last, but most important…my little Suzi. I’m glad you managed to find us again, despite your sisters efforts to the contrary. She never quite trusted me for some reason..”
Startled, Suzi opened her mouth…but shut it again as the brick wall returned, ushering in a young man of about 18. As he approached the table, she gasped, fingers tightening on the table, and glanced at Sam to see if he felt it as well. Finding him looking down the table at her, she mouthed “He feels like Sammy!” and watched him nod, once, before turning to watch as “Sanderson” began to speak.
The young man stood impassively in front of the big man, almost seeming to stand at attention, military style. “You asked to see me, sir?”
When “Sanderson” spoke, they all stifled a gasp…his voice had completely changed! This voice was that of a much younger man, although still older by far than the young man…a peevish and fretful voice, used to being in control but holding on to that control with both grasping hands.
Stealthily and warily, Ephraim risked a peek at him, controlling his reaction at what he saw. A man sat in the chair, balding and middle-aged, in an approximation of a military uniform. From the markings and the younger mans attitude, Ephraim deduced that he was of a high “rank” in whatever organization he belonged to.
“Yes, soldier, I “asked to see you”. I shouldn’t have had to! What were you thinking?” The young man, presumably “Spencer”, stared resolutely at a point just over “Sandersons” shoulder as he spoke, his voice crisp. “Sir…I was tending to an asset, sir. Per your previous instructions, sir.”
Ephraim watched as the shadow-man pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously a habitual gesture, and shook his head. “Spencer…son…she’s dangerous, you know that. I don’t want you risking yourself in case…no, -when-…she goes rogue.”
The young man seemed to pull himself even straighter. “Sir…understood, sir. With all due respect, I believe I can handle her, sir. She listens to me. And, sir…grandfather believes I can handle her. That is enough for me. Sir.”
The man bristled, fists clenched in his lap under the table. “Your grandfather is no longer in charge of this organization, soldier. He is unwell, and has turned all policy making and organizational matters over to me. And I -order- you to stand down re Private Blue. Just this once…do as I say?”
Startled, Meagan clapped her hands over her mouth, senses reaching out almost automatically to “read” the boy who stood before her. Recoiling as she felt the strength of his connection to…Blue…to Sammy…she glared at him behind her hands. Sammy is 14, for gods sake!
With a crisp salute, the boy half-turned to the door. “Sir, yes sir! Understood sir!” He turned and headed out the door, still speaking, but softly now, his voice fading as he stalked down the hall. “…comprehende…gotcha…dohn…comprendre…”
Shaking his head, “Sanderson” settled back, looking back to Meagan. (Ephraim watched the shadow-man fade, and the coyote-man come to the fore once again) “I apologize for that. The boy has his own brand of courage, true…but much like your Sammy, not an ounce of discipline.”
Meagan frowned at him. “I don’t understand…how can he be your son? I mean…I know you’re not…well, not human?”
He chuckled. “Ahh, but he is -not- my son. He is “Sandersons” son. And Sanderson is -my- son…at least as far as the Club is concerned. You understand that I am handing you some of the deepest secrets of the Club? And I know you’re all smart enough to wonder…what does he want, in exchange for these secrets? Well, I will tell you…”

(*giggles*  On to you, Dawn!  Have fun!  *hugs*)


Mia’s silly rhyming song, by Mia

the flat cat has a hat
he throws it at the silly bat
because the bat it squashed him flat
and sat on top of his new hat

the car goes far under the star
the star looks down to see the car
the car stops at the soda bar
and then it goes on far and far

the silly fox sits in a box
until the man comes with the locks
and locks the box up with the fox
because the fox stole all his socks

the sad bear lives at the fair
and dances in the sticky air
and wishes he was out of there
and back at home in his warm lair

the little bug lives in the rug
in a hole he dug and dug
and gives his family a great big hug
because they live there nice and snug


Strangers

If you’d never known me, would you miss me?
Would you sometimes listen for a voice that isn’t there,
Would certain smells remind you of a place you’d never been,
Or would you catch a glimpse of me, passing on the stair?

I remember you, although we’ve never met.
I know your eyes, your smile, your breath upon my ear,
I see you in the empty bed, and in the other chair,
I hear your laugh out on the street, and always will, I fear.

Your face sneaks up on me, sometimes,
in keepsakes and old photos, streaked with tears,
proof ephemeral and fine, these memories of you;
the stranger that I never knew, but loved so many years.