at first glance baby laughs or cries
when she looks in the mirror
and sees her eyes
but as the years go by
she forms a relationship
and greets her visage
and a discerning eye
looking to defy
age while still youthful
with cosmetics that lie
looking in the mirror
must be near!
the stirring started when he became a teen
a young buck who fell for a beauty queen
the strange sensation in his groin a mystery
a newly found interest in the female anatomy
but when the day came
to ask the girl for a date
he just couldn’t concentrate
that fateful afternoon
because a shy voice in his head whispered… Too soon.
it’s too easy to build a mental wall
a barrier to all things big and small
when we get carried away with ideology
and the politics of the day
communication is cornered by fear
when a person believes everything they hear
tossing logic aside to build a mental wall
has been many a man and woman’s downfall
a wall keeps knowledge out
leaving the builder with doubt
about what is right or wrong
and what’s weak and what’s strong
so don’t burden your brain
with barriers that could drive you insane
100 words –
The heathen hoard clambered over the remnants of the consciousness wall, bringing madness to the chaos already imbedded there.
Reality is readily routed. The dreamer tries to break the dark ties, but only finds loathsome things like nightmares. Ghastly memories rooted in time tip-toe through their unconscious mind.
Unforgiving monsters stalk the sleeping brain, seeking tears by using fears built up through the years. Slumbering memories of sadness step around madness every night in a silent fight against nightmares and fears.
The gods comment: “Poor humans. They’re so frail that their minds are held hostage when they go to sleep.”
200 words –
The interior lights were all turned off and a sense of something ancient lingered in the room. The lone resident was huddled next to the nearly dead fireplace holding onto a black iron poker. One charred log was still smoldering and a faint trail of smoke slithered into the darkness.
“Come out and show yourself,” the old man said in an unsteady tone tinged with fear.
No sound issued from the dark corner where the old man’s eye’s struggled to see what was lurking there. He sensed a presence. Whatever was in the corner, it was watching him.
Once he fancied he saw two glaring eyes. After standing for hours his legs were getting weak. It wasn’t responding to his repeated question, “What do you want?”
Polarized with fear and indecision, the man grew weaker. The black iron poker became too heavy to hold and fell onto the wooden floor with a loud thud.
No response from the dark corner.
A faint light slowly filtered through the curtains bringing a new day. In the yellow glow the corner revealed it’s occupant. A cat on a chair.
But the old man didn’t know that. He was sprawled on the floor, dead.
Hate is an acquired trait.
We’re not born hating the world around us. An infant has a clear conscience with the ability to love without reservation.
But so-called civilization infuses us with hate, as we struggle to survive in an unjust world. Blinded by hate, people lash out over ideologies and beliefs of others. Hate’s sidekick fear, leads the way and opens the doors to our eventual destruction.
Being cursed with the ability to hate, often for no good reason, is mankind’s bane. It’s an inverted cross to bear for all those who give in to hate without a fight.
When Harold saw the thing slithering out from beneath his bed he felt both vindicated and horrified.
His parents wouldn’t listen to him the first time he became aware of it’s presence. That’s why he wasn’t on the bed tonight and hiding behind his chest of drawers with a baseball bat.
When the thing slithered on top of his bed and wound itself around his pillow, he rushed out and smashed it into a bloody pulp!
The next morning.
“Have you seen a boa constrictor around?” his mother asked. “Billy next door said his pet boa escaped.”
“No,” he lied.