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Old December 5th, 2017, 08:38 AM   #11
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Originally Posted by Peter the Roman View Post
I'm incredibly inspired by Roger 'Syd' Barrett. He's the guy in my avatar. I think his influence on my art is profound. I can only hope to produce a fraction of the art that he did.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZaZaWcdtbY - Terrapin is one of my favorite tunes by him. It's so simple, yet so elegant.
Who knows? You may produce more, and better.

I draw from, yeah I know boo-hiss, the Beatles, and Hendrix, and Motown amongst others, but those three are at the core of my funky, psychedelic rock heart.
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Old December 5th, 2017, 08:41 AM   #12
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Originally Posted by imaginethat View Post
Who knows? You may produce more, and better.

I draw from, yeah I know boo-hiss, the Beatles, and Hendrix, and Motown amongst others, but those three are at the core of my funky, psychedelic rock heart.
All great inspirations, really

Another thing I've written. No title, like the others:

Shining bright amongst the stars
Observing passing ships before me
Never knowing, never seeing
Brightness engulfing the aeon
Horsemen Cossacks crossing the Don
Never knowing, never seeing
Standing across the beaten land
With the Pharaohís mysteries at hand
Never knowing, never seeing

Dreaming and being
Focus on breathing
Donít, donít, donít open that door
Just go ahead and close that drawer
And sit over there on the floor

Floating through the blackness of night
The shadowed figures pass through the light
Never knowing, never seeing
Writing letters and drifting away
A castaway rocks back into the bay
Never knowing, never seeing
Truth and silence, divided and not
What will it be? Will you be bought?
Never knowing, never seeing

Dreaming and being
Focus on breathing
Donít, donít, donít open that door
Just go ahead and close that drawer
And sit over there on the floor
Thanks from imaginethat
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Old December 5th, 2017, 09:17 AM   #13
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I'm called by a low hum
Amber light prods my eyelids, giggling and tugging at the covers of my sleep
And I stir awake
Lifting upwards, I find myself cushioned by ill fit stone bricks
Who suck weeping blades of grass back down into the crevices of the earth
I look up, and I am again assailed by a faint glow
Swirls of pink, red and orange, chuckling to themselves
The blur subsides, and I see the source
Dozens of paper lanterns dotting the path
Each one a soul reborn
--------They forget they were once the flames of pillage and war
Do they have the right to?
--------They wouldn't have fought if they couldn't
I agree, but find it difficult to be satisfied with this outcome
--------Because unlike them, you can't forget
--------You don't get to start again
--------That was the choice you made
I did, but it doesn't make it hurt less

Pulling myself to my feet I begin to walk
And listen as the lights giggle and dance around in merriment
Laughter of children
Why does it only make me angry?
Why does it only cut me?
I approach a stall
Sit on the seat and hear it wheeze from the small cut in the leather under my weight
I order a viscous black substance in small shot glass
I'm handed it by a set of burly, fatherly arms
I can't see his face
He lets out a sigh of disappointment and pity
It stings but I ignore it, and down the demons
It torches my throat, but I'm addicted to the pain
Why is this preferable to the alternative?
--------Because you're afraid of losing control
--------Afraid of letting go
--------You won't let go
--------You hurt the people you care about, but they've left
--------More than anything else, you're just hurting yourself
I wince at the sadness and the anger
But I don't move from my seat
I ask for another over the countertop
--------No.
I demand another.
--------No.
I plead for another.
--------No.

I stand up from the seat and throw the images away in a violent fit.
And begin falling into a blank, white void.
The nothingness brushes against me smugly
It's cold and metallic, and it mocks my indignation
--------A man can't escape his own heart
Why did she ever give me the choice in the first place?
She should have known this would happen
--------Because you needed me
I still do
--------No, you don't.
I know she's right, but I won't admit it
I need to believe it
I need to keep going
If I don't, than he'll win
And I'm in too deep now
The white burns to a fuzzy, dusty black
And a funeral procession begins
A thousand blaring trumpets
A thousand beating drums
A thousand voices crying and begging me to come all at once
The sensory overload begins to wear me down
The lines begin to blur, and I begin to lose myself
Baby steps towards a distant star
With every step the voices cry less and cheer more
I can't think anymore
All I do is reach for the light
--------NO!
I regain control, and crush the star in my palms
The light begs for release between the cracks of my fingers
But my grip tightens
I begin to crush it's wind pipe
It's gasping for air
Wheezing
Tears roll down my face, but I press harder
I hear the crunching of bone
Sobbing, begging
I join it in sorrow, but my hand is unrelenting
Soon the light dies, and I'm alone in the void once more
I wail for comfort
But she's not responding any longer.
And with every inhale, my eyes droop
And I drift off to sleep once more.







n- no bully

Last edited by 04960319; December 5th, 2017 at 10:13 AM.
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Old December 6th, 2017, 03:48 AM   #14
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I like it, a lot actually. Please post more. To change the gears a little, I've got a short story that I'd like to share. It's a bit on the longer side as compared to poems but I think I'm better at prose than poetry.

I call it "Lighthouse"

The winds beat against the rocks as the foamy waves crashed over the outcropping. The pitch-black starless night was ominous to the landing party aboard the dinghy, who were rowing furiously towards the coast. Water spilled over the edges of the wooden boat and it rocked with the waves. Their guiding light, the rotating beam coming from the sky, shepherded them to the coastline. Behind them, on the horizon, sat twinkling lights of their ship, anchored out at sea. A lantern had hung at the bow of the wooden craft, but it had been knocked off its handle and was now sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

The wooden craft made landfall, brutally grinding against the rocks. The bottom of the vessel was shredded by the sharp stones and jutted to a horrific stop, throwing the four aboard off their seats. Erasmus, one of the unlucky aboard, fell forward and smacked his face on the bow. Born lowly, and destined to die lowly, Erasmus was a wanderer and a drifter, who had been contracted by the Tribunal to take part in this voyage. He was paid thirty gold pieces for his troubles, and promised a plot of land if the voyage was successful. If it was successful. There was no promise of triumph, and at that present moment, Erasmus doubted very much if anything could be achieved at all.

“Everyone all right?”

The leader of the expedition stood up and dusted himself off. Erasmus knew him only as Leo, but he doubted that was his real name. He had a long flowing beard with slicked back hair, hidden under a black pith helmet that they all were wearing. They wore all-black uniforms, rather striking and Erasmus found it intimidating. However, only one man, whom Erasmus knew as Rog, had a weapon. Rog carried a shotgun, with a bandolier around his chest filled with shotgun shells. He had said during the voyage that he wouldn’t hesitate to use it - against anyone.

There was one man, however, who hadn’t been as fortunate. Erasmus forgot his name entirely, but he believed it was something like Coy. Coy had been tossed clear over the boat and onto the rocks. Red liquid seeped out of his skull, and brain matter covered the rock. It seemed, however, that only Erasmus had noticed him, for Rog and Leo were already up and over the rocks, heading inland. Collecting his composure, Erasmus joined them.

“-and as I said to him, y’know, it just can’t be helped, y’know?” Rog explained, his shotgun resting on his shoulder, pointed directly at Erasmus. It unsettled him, but Erasmus wasn’t going to ask Rog to hold his gun in some other fashion, lest he test it out. “It’s just how things work, y’know?”

“Do I know?” Leo scoffed.

“What, exactly, is the importance of this mission? Why are we here?” Erasmus inquired. He thought he deserved to know, especially considering Coy (Caleb? Christian?) was lying dead behind them. The trio marched through a thick forest filled with deciduous trees. It was haunting in the early hours of the morning. Leo carried a lantern, illuminating the way.

“You didn’t read the Tribunal summons? It was all laid out there.” Leo laughed. “Can you read?”

“Yes, I can read.” Erasmus snapped back. “But, I never got a summons.”

“Well, you see, our mission here is to-”

“Hold on! You see that over there?” Rog gestured through the bushes to a cluster of lights in the distance. They were like small torches in the night, and were oddly welcoming to the threesome. “Is that, erm…what was it called again?”

“Solace Springs? Something like that.” Leo shrugged. “Lead us on. Perhaps we’ll find the Commissioner.”

“Who’s the Commissioner?”

“You don’t need to know.” Rog looked back towards Erasmus. “Besides, everything that you need to know was in the summons.”
“But I didn’t get the summons.” Erasmus murmured under his breath.

“What do you mean, ‘you didn’t get the summons?’” Rog snapped back. “Don’t lie to me, boy. You had to’ve.”

“I didn’t! How many times must I say this?” Erasmus grew irritated as it went on. “I didn’t get any summons. I don’t even remember how I got here.”

“You don’t remember?” Leo shook his head. “How can you not remember? Were you dragged on in your sleep or something?”

“Maybe. All I can remember is going to sleep, and then suddenly I’m fully awake and on a dinghy.” Erasmus looked towards the sky, and could see the shades of blue and orange. The sun was rising. The icy wind of night was no longer in its domain, and would soon give way to the warm and beating sun.

The trio cut through more of the thicket and eventually found themselves on a road. Erasmus thought it was awfully familiar, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. An antiquated truck was smashed against a tree. The engine was smoking, puffing smoke like a chimney. As they approached the truck, Rog at the ready with his shotgun, they found that it was empty. Not only was it empty, but there was no driver in sight. The windshield was shattered on the driver’s side, as if he had gone clear through the glass, but yet there was no body. Erasmus felt a stinging pain in his skull, as if a long dagger was being brought down into his brain.

**** The rain was coming down, as if the Heavens were crying. He gripped the steering wheel tight, his knuckles white as snow. The truck bounced and bobbed on the rough road. He wanted to escape. He wanted to fly and flee. He had done wrong, a greater wrong than he had ever done before. Regret and anger poured through his soul. The truck hit a bump and he lost control, and began to swerve into the treeline…****

Erasmus came to before the Lighthouse. He was lying in front of the front door, crumpled up as if he was dead. He stood up in a fright, and looked around for his two companions. They weren’t anywhere to be found. He called out for them, but the only answers was his own voice, echoing into the dark oblivion. There was rain in the country, coming down harder and harder as the minutes ticked by. He felt another searing pain in his cranium, and he fell to his knees in agonizing pain.

**** “Oh, darling, must you?”
“Must I what?”
“Must you be so paranoid? I’m simply going out with Alice.”
“I don’t like her.”
“Well, I do.”****


Erasmus’ mind flickered between visions of a life he could not remember, and the present moment that was absurd and surreal to the point of being a dream. The rain that hit him steamed off of his body, as if he was at boiling point. Every drop felt like a small burn. He called out in agony to God, but there was no answer. He felt another turn coming on, and grabbed at his temples.

**** “Darling, you took the wrong turn.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. I know how to get to Alice’s.”
“We aren’t going there.”
“What do you mean, ‘we aren’t going there?’ Take me there now. Why are we going to the lighthouse? You know how it scares me so.”
He kept driving, focused single-mindedly on this act of blind anger and passion that had been building in his soul for a decade. The rusted barbed wire that held the cork that kept the rage in had given way, and there was red in his vision. His hands trembled with excitement.****


“No! No!” Erasmus cried out to the sky. The only reply was the clouds bursting in thunder, lightning striking the ground before him. “Oh, make it stop! Make it stop! I did nothing!”

“Is that so?” A large booming voice asked. Was it God? “Is that so, my dear boy?”

“I am innocent! I did nothing to deserve this torment! Make it stop!” Erasmus shouted in a frenzy. He banged his head against the door of the lighthouse.

“Consider it done.” The pain stopped, and as if the voice was God himself, the rain stopped. Turning around, Erasmus glimpsed his savior. It was a man wearing a black three piece suit, with a bowler hat and an Edwardian moustache. He held a cane in his hand, and had a jovial sort about him. “I am the Commissioner. Are you Erasmus?”

“How do you know me?”

“How can I not know you, lad? You’re quite famous around these parts.” The man chuckled. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh, but rather a vicious sort of one, with a sinister sensation surrounding it. “Open the door.”

“No.” Erasmus declined his offer. He felt uneasy about the door, and there was a sense of dread in his heart.

“It wasn’t a suggestion. Open the door.”

**** “Let me go! Let me go!”
He held onto her with an iron grip. She couldn’t break free. She kicked and screamed and bit and hit, but he could not be stopped. The adrenaline pumping through him was too much. He was driven. He needed this. He had spent the last five years imagining this moment. He needed this. He wanted this. They ascended the circular staircase together. He was carrying her like how a groom carries his bride through the threshold, but this was a sick parody of that marital act. He wanted it this way. He needed it this way.
“Let me go! Why are you doing this? I love you! Please don’t!”
“I always hated you.”
He felt good. He felt like a man. He felt alive. He hadn’t felt like this in years. He needed this.****


Erasmus opened the door and was greeted with the bare interior. The only thing present in his vision was the spiraling staircase that went up and up and up. The door closed behind him, without any action of his own. The Commissioner walked down the staircase, but stopped short of walking all the way down. He halted on the third step.

“You must know why you are here.”

“No! No!” Erasmus shouted at him, anger building. “No! Why have you done this to me?”

“You should be asking, ‘why did I do this to myself?’ I am merely mettling out what is deserved.”

“No!”

**** “Do finish your tea.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You must. I made it for you.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Finish it, darling. I made it for you.”
Every day, day in, day out. There was no end. Every interaction was like a brick being filled into a wall. She had been beautiful, and she still was, but the years of torment and emotional manipulation had soured her appearance. She was no longer beautiful. She was a devil in disguise. She was a demon. She was a witch. She was a succubus who had taken a hold of his soul and was eating away at it. He needed to stop it. He felt her mental powers brainwashing him. He wouldn’t let her destroy him.****

“It’s coming back to you, I see.” The Commissioner smiled sadistically. “Do you remember it all?”

“No!”

“Shall I jog your memory?”

“No! Don’t do it!” Erasmus fell into a frenzy. The memories of another life entered into his mind like a spaceship on overdrive.

**** “Oh! Don’t do it! Please! Please! I’ll do anything! Please! I love you, darling! I’m your wife! This isn’t supposed to happen! Oh God, please don’t do it! Please! Please!”
“Shut up. You talk too much.”
“Don’t kill me! Please! I didn’t do anything to you! I just wanted you to love me!”
“You wanted to brainwash me! You wanted to take my soul! I won’t let you! I won’t let you do it!”
“What are you talking about? Please don’t kill me! You’ve been stressed! Just put me down!”
“No! I’m ending this once and for all!”
She shrieked like a banshee as he unloaded her over the railing. She dug her nails into his shoulders as she tried to hold on, but it was too much. She fell into the dark night below.****


Erasmus remembered it all. Visions of his real life, of his wife, of his actions flickered and flashed into his mind’s eye. He had planned it. He had plotted it. He had done it. He felt a little pleased with himself, in between shooting electric shocks in his body.

“Happy with yourself, are you?” The Commissioner smirked. “The thrill of the hunt; isn’t it something?”

“I couldn’t stand it! I couldn’t stand her!” Erasmus cried out. “She was a vicious bitch! She slept around behind my back! She was working dark magic! She tried to imprison me in my own mind! She tried to steal my soul, don’t you see?” He screamed at the Commissioner, trying to argue his case.

“Your screaming really doesn’t help you, my dear boy.” The Commissioner shook his head, like a parent scolding their child. “It just makes you look rather silly.”

“Please, you must understand, she was trying to kill me!” He pleaded with him.

“Was she? Let’s go through it again.” The Commissioner, at a seemingly mental cue, played the events of the murder back through in Erasmus’ head. And then he did it again. And again. And again. Over and over, the fateful minute played in his head. He watched his wife plummet to her death on the rocks. “She was trying to kill you, yes?”

“No! I mean, yes!” Erasmus shouted. “She was trying to kill my spirit!”

“You and I both know that’s all in your head.” The Commissioner smiled. “You can’t escape from your own mind.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Don’t delude yourself. Come with me, dear boy.”

“I won’t!” Erasmus protested, but it was in vain. He was overcome with cranial pain, and fell to the floor.

**** He felt a pang of guilt, but it quickly subsided with the thrill of the kill. He jumped up and down with joy. Finally, she was dead. He could be free! He ran down the stairs laughing like a maniac. He was laughing and crying and was in a manic state. She was finally gone. No longer could she use her mental powers to corrupt him. No longer would he tolerate her insolence. No longer would he have to deal with her tea. No longer would he have to deal with her love. He was free, completely free.****


Erasmus opened his eyes. He felt like he was wading in water, but as he looked around, he felt his heart sink like a stone. He was floating in mid-air, over the balcony of the lighthouse.

“Do you have anything to say, old sport?” The Commissioner asked.

“I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” The Commissioner shook his head. “Well, off you go then.”

As if an invisible floor had given way underneath him, he fell to his demise. Every nanosecond seemed to stretch into eternity. Time slowed to a crawl. He felt every bit of the air as he fell through it, and toward the ground. He pondered on the fate of his wife, wondering if she felt the same sensation. He wondered if -
***
A dinghy bobbed up and down in the rough waters, the rows crashing against the waves as the oarsmen worked their lines. The four men aboard huddled closely together as they passed away from their main battlecruiser, and made their way towards land. They were guided by a lighthouse, shining its beacon into the dark and cold night.
Thanks from imaginethat and 04960319

Last edited by Peter the Roman; December 6th, 2017 at 04:52 AM.
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Old December 6th, 2017, 09:16 AM   #15
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Sorry for turning this into my little exhibition, but I felt a rush of creativity and wrote this just now. No title, like the others. Perhaps I could call it "Agree to Disagree"?

Curling, twirling
In the desert with a turban
Hissing, squirming
The vermin recalls his warning
Twisting, searching
Speak in a tongue very foreign
Don’t you put it on my head!
“I am just a man,” He said
“And the Good Lord Jesus, he bled red!”

Don’t point your finger at me
What am I supposed to be?
Don’t you think we should be free?
Let’s agree to disagree

Hiking, running
The wars need funding
Fleeing, reeling
The moment’s fleeting
Screaming, seeking
Cracks on the ceiling
Don’t you throw away the key!
Don’t you see what’s in front of me?
You can’t be what you pretend to be.

Don’t point your finger at me
What am I supposed to be?
Don’t you think we should be free?
Let’s agree to disagree
Thanks from imaginethat and 04960319

Last edited by Peter the Roman; December 7th, 2017 at 05:25 PM.
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Old December 7th, 2017, 06:10 AM   #16
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I'll keep this alive by posting once a day. Maybe someone else will contribute occasionally.

Black lace shoes
Jeans so blue
Dark socks
My foot on a box
Short hair, so bad
I’ve gone so mad
Got a shirt with stripes
I’ve been read my rights
Patterns on my head
Fusing brown and blue and red
Weathered eyes for sight
Squint from light so bright
Got a brain that’s wracked
Got to put on an act
Got a beard that’s long
And an unfinished song
Can I make an excuse
That you can’t refuse?
I should resign
Make your name in a sign
Can you see the truth?
I’m stuck in my youth
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Old December 7th, 2017, 09:36 AM   #17
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Thanks for keepin' it going Pete. I wish others would join in. I'll offer another.

No Shoes to Tie

Was a nice day
for a walk on water.
But my schedule’s all set,
and cancel I oughta....
What if I failed?
What if, I got wet?

I've been so dry.

I'm running life’s path,
though never did I
learn to walk, or trot,
ne’er found the key,
and surely I’m not,
not gonna crawl, ‘cause
surely someone would see.

Say I’m brave?
But see, I’m not.
Say I’m not afraid?
I am, though I act well.

But, I can fly.
Yes, I can fly.
Oh yeah, I’ve flown high.
And I sometimes get wet,
saltwater I’ve wept.

So dreaming up high,
there’s me and there’s you,
with Mom’s green below us,
and above, Her heavenly blue.

And seeing things thus,
we don’t need no bus
No distance to travel
Ain't no space ‘tween us.

My shedding false dreams
gave me my wings.
Sacred wings.
No shoes to tie,
only joy’s tears to cry,
And no days too dry.

I still can’t water walk,
But I can fly.
Yeah, we can fly.
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Old December 7th, 2017, 10:11 AM   #18
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I feel bad seeing only Andrew contribute so here's a very small piece of something much bigger I've been working on. There's not a lot of context but whatever.



I’m snapped out of a trance, onset by one of the cabins ceiling fans whirring in circles, by Rod beating my back with an open palm.
“Ready for the big day, pal?” He inquired.
The whole thing felt surreal to me. Growing up as a orphaned brothel gopher on one of the first and rather large colonies, I was jaded that this sort of thing could happen earnestly. There was a long time where I felt that love was lie, and that people are inherently selfish, unable to dedicate themselves to one another beyond the lip service required to satiate the carnal desires; and yet here I sit, a rogue and a scoundrel sure, but one about to wed the woman he loved. It was a surreal feeling, and I’d be lying if I said that I didn't have butterflies swarming in my stomach. I hadn’t felt this nervous since the first time I boarded a shipping vessel 10 years ago. Looking back, the loot was easy pickings, nary a guard aboard the ship thanks to the company cutting corners to make a few extra bucks, but even simple crimes wrack the nerves of virgin pirates. Perhaps I would look back on this day and feel the same way? That there was nothing to fear? That thought didn’t do much to beat back these feelings, but I steadied myself before turning around; I had to be composed at all times, both for the sake of my crew, and the sake of my geopolitical position.
“A bit shook, but can you blame me?” I responded with a chuckle, grabbing the ceremonial red robe from his other hand. I took a good look at it once more, marveling at the craftsmanship. The crimson silk was interwoven with gold patterns depicting all manner of tales from the previous pirate kings. There was Elsie III with the lance of longinus in hand, piercing the forehead of the Jabberwock on the left shoulder. The ascension of Victor the Pious, surrounded by singing cherubim, Zenal and the forty thieves feasting after the war of the lost, and countless other fairy tales of countless lives. Thinking of a successor some day staring at my legacy with the same wonder I had filled me with vigor. What was my story to tell? What adventures awaited me in my future?
Slinging it around my shoulders, I added “Remind me to drop by Gao and see the old coot at some point, I want to tank him properly for this thing. It’s beautiful.”
“You aint seen nothing yet, Cap. Anna’s is really something special.” He retorted.
I could only imagine. Thinking of her all dolled up, with that wide dimpled smile made me more happy than any legacy I could leave behind. I had never really known happiness before now. Cynicism plagued my mind before the day that I met her, as would anybody who had grown up in the environment I had. The day that I met her… what was it like? For some inexplicable reason, I couldn’t quite remember. That should have bothered me, but it didn’t. I was riding too high on cloud nine to be bothered by something like that right now.

Rod and I walked down the halls of the ship towards the mess hall, but took a less than direct route, one that conveniently passed by the captains quarters, and when we reached the door to our bedroom, I slowed a bit. Turning to rod, I gave him a sly look, crept towards the door and gently twisted the handle. Before I could open it even a crack, he grabbed my hand and crushed it between the meaty sausages of his fingers, and pulled abruptly towards us, slamming the door.
“It's bad luck.” He exlaimed between a disappointed grimace, and I heard the girls giggling to themselves from beyond the door.
Feeling defeated, we continued towards the mess hall, and upon arriving there, I hopped onto one of the bar stools and asked for a smoke from Z. Without looking up from the glass he was cleaning, he told me what I already knew.
“Two a day Cap, you’re supposed to be quitting, remember? She’d be mad if she found out.”
“I only had one today Zee.” I sheepishly lied.
“Just because I cook the meals here, doesn’t make me stupid.” He stated, nonchalantly.
I flopped my head and arms over the counter and whined like a child. This usually worked, and I wagered it would this time too.
He let out a sigh and withdrew one from under the counter.
“Only because today is today.” He relented. “Honestly, you’re not even wed yet and you’re already blowing her off. I pray for your marriage.”
Feeling satisfied, I withdrew my lighter and pulled it up to my face. Z let out a grunt in protest.
“Out on the deck” He commanded.
I rolled my eyes, and stepped out onto the balcony that surrounded the hall. We we’re quite a ways up, but commanding such a large ship had rid me of my fear of heights some time ago. It didn’t help that Anna would often tease me for such a childish phobia when she was first brought aboard, and it motivated me to overcome that barrier.
I leaned against the railings, taking a drag and staring out into the reflection of the moon on the lake surface below. This was as good a place as any to hold a wedding I thought to myself. To tell you the truth, it was Fio’s idea to hold it here. This was her home planet after all, and she said there was a surprise which would only reveal itself in the hours just after twilight, which was why we were holding it at night. Not that I had a problem with that. Spending so much time in the ocean of space, I honestly preferred the serenity of the cool glow of night. I felt like protesting when Anna said she didn’t like the idea, but I kept my mouth shut and let Fio do the convincing.
Not long after, Rod followed out and leaned against the metal bars next to me. We sat in silence for awhile, watching clouds of smoke rise upwards towards the dotted navy sky. I felt a strange sensation, like I had a question to ask him, but the words escaped my mind. The feeling of words that need to be said, yet disguise themselves too well for the mind to formulate. It certainly contributed to my uneasiness, and I focused on quelling that sickness before his mouth opened. But there was no sound. His lips moved, yet my ears betrayed my eyes, and I heard nothing. I went to ask him what the hell was going on; but as my lips moved, there was no response from the outside world. The corners of my vision began to blur. What was this? I sat puzzled for a minute, panicking as my vision began to fade out, before it hit me in the last seconds that this was naught but a dream. One that I've had plenty of times before. One with no explanation.



lol guess the site doesn't like indents. now its hard to read. RIP formatting.
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Last edited by 04960319; December 7th, 2017 at 10:26 AM.
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Old December 7th, 2017, 02:31 PM   #19
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I like it, a lot actually. Please post more. To change the gears a little, I've got a short story that I'd like to share. It's a bit on the longer side as compared to poems but I think I'm better at prose than poetry.

I call it "Lighthouse"

~snip~
I had to find the time to read this. It's excellent, an "A."
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Last edited by imaginethat; December 7th, 2017 at 02:49 PM.
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Old December 7th, 2017, 02:48 PM   #20
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I feel bad seeing only Andrew contribute so here's a very small piece of something much bigger I've been working on. There's not a lot of context but whatever.

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That's very good, but then that compliment means nothing. I'm persona non grata in your mind, evidently, re: "I feel bad seeing only Andrew contribute...."



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