"A collection of my thoughts, feelings, and emotions, to the world around me"
an outdoor bookmark
is blueberry in nature
the chapter with you
Photo By: Sara Swain
street of dampened cobblestone
dirty pigeons and trampled smokes
where marquee lights faded in the creeping sun
and police cruiser chirps, shooed on
as randoms of strangers filter out of holes in the walls
scurrying from the light
with squinted eyes, messed up hair…
empty pockets and smeared makeup
they all zombie
stagger…stumble…kiss and curse
down a drunk-filled stretch
past half-eaten pizza by the atm
after the hot dogs being served with rotten hands
before the guy with the sign looking for money
next to the lady who bums cigarettes
while muffled beats still play out
faint
like the night is still hanging on
barely
to dull-sounding music like life support
it makes you sick as you stand there
then you laugh for no reason
check your pockets
and hail that holy cab
Sunday morning
I could smell the scent of church perfume
Nan must have just left
Pop is cooking me eggs and mmm…eggs like no others
special
for me
he loved it
taking his time, trying not to break the yolk
my thing, his thing, our thing
then I appeared
through the kitchen archway
straight to the table and that inside chair
my spot til university
pop’s service was top-notch
always repeating no more
then you turn the tiny knob
on the black and white tiny old TV
cracks of static at first
our favorite show flickers and plays on
it must be ten o’clock now
because the sun is stretching through the window
reaching the rocking chair
where pop is sitting in listen
here’s to adventure
here’s to romance
here’s the Cisco kid
not a word is spoken
souls in harmony
time in quantity
a moment in quality
memories of black and white
bring me the most colour
That breakfast seven days ago was two piping hot medium-sized pancakes, infused with strawberries and topped with whipped cream. Tera’s comfort breakfast. Her favourite part was when the chilled whipped cream made a sizzling sound each time Roomer added that final touch. She adored that sizzle and loved that special requested morning menu item. She ordered it only on the days when Dr. Cross travelled to or from Earth. When he departed for Earth, its taste made her feel better. When he returned from Earth, its taste made her feel everything. The remaining days of the week between when Dr. Cross was onboard, Tera didn’t care what she had to eat. Never mattered. Everything tasted the same. The rest of the menu was bland like how time felt when Dr. Cross was away from the space station. Her days and nights seemed long, drawn out, and completely drab. The only form of excitement she experienced was watching the calendar by her bed flip to a new date bringing her closer and closer to when she would see Dr. Cross again. See her Eric again.
Continue reading “Story Jots # 14 (b) – This Droid Heart”
The circus is over, now comes the real fun…
Is it a wish? Is it a dream? Is it a prayer? Is it a gift? To a father at Christmas, she’s all four. – Dad
when I was young
I took the back arm way home
where the town ended and the forest began
the whole journey protected
by those evergreen trees I shared days with
every step was like a play
knowing the parts by heart, knowing the story to home
running along in places
others stopping for a spell
little legs, lasting time in the in-between moments of my once-life
on the edge of my seat.. bout 6:30
my best behaviour on display
the only way someone else taught me
all the rain had just stopped
as I watched a man walk through beads
that time in the evening
of a September day
is a feeling
a time when thoughts can drift
when sound stays quiet
the road a certain hue of grey
like the sky, maybe one shade away
sometimes I look down and count the patches
kick the broken asphalt
to the dirted sides
where the trees grow
the berries bush
and flowers wild
I look harder at things
appreciate that I am
then
remember someone
think of some time
escape back to a similar place
that time in the evening
I could see into kitchens
and all those moths swarming the post-office lights
hear dogs and guess which one
see cats and watch them go home
smell sawdust and smile
that time in the evening
of a September day
was a feeling
those days we spent in the dory
barely a word was shared aloud
our language was unique to only us
on the nicest of days that were just for you and me
no sun, grey skies, grey ocean…with a hug of a fog
you had no idea but I loved watching you
in awe…
of my captain
my grandfather, only different
when I did, I felt safe and sound
adventurous…like your first mate
catching our bounty of fish for dear Theresa’s table
