Out My Mind- Porch Lady Talk and a Revolver

Secret Bible--revolver by Shinobi aka seba

Secret Bible–revolver by Shinobi aka seba


Let it go. Let it go..Let me go.

Something got a hold.  Gripped tight. Tethered. Tied and wrapped.

Wound and bound.Thick wire looped around a large spindle.

Spun and Spiraled… Got me Circled

Mashed and grounded into powder and sprinkled on others chosen paths..rubbed out fresh and flat. Then blown apart.

Dazed and dizzy..LOST.   Fragmented and disconnected. Jumbled

Heavy Headed.

Spent and bought.

Sold and Resold to the cheapest bidder. Shiny hat and shiny shoes. Cheap metal and faded gold.

Exchanged and bartered. A bargain.  Hustled OUT MY MIND..


(Pointing in their direction)……

Dem Porch Ladies say, she came home from church..and must’ve caught the Spirit.

Dey’ say… when she walked in her house..they heard hollering and shouting.  A choir of Loud Revolution. Dey’ say the walls was singing sumpin’ fierce!

Then dey’ say…7 horsemen came a running and she came a flying.

Flapping and flat footed..BARE! Right out her house!  She was leaping and hopping off the ground.

Dey’ say, she even levitated! Say she lifted so high, that Ol’ Man Perry tried to rope her down..but he couldn’t.       (I ain’t lying..dat’s what dey say)

Dem’ porch ladies say …Dat girl was so hot and feverish that she was turned beet burnt red. And..dey say, she was dripping wet like somebody had dipped her in the river. Water and sweat was just pouring right off of her.

The Porch Ladies say, she caught the Holy Ghost!

She was speaking in tongues and scripture-fying. Quoting em’ like she wrote the book.

Leviticus 20:10    Leviticus 20:25     Luke 11:40

Mat 23:17    “Is it the Gold or the Temple that makes it?” she shouted. “Who am I?  I’m the Temple..ain’t I?”

Jeremiah 48:10  “I do the Lords Work!!! I do the Lords Work!”

Exodus 35:2..“God said it!!! God said it!!!” 

(Proclaiming)  “Deeze ain’t my words..Deeze Gods!”

Dey say, she started singing about how she been changed.. Dat finally, she been saved. She say she was healed by the blood.

Then dey’ say..she started shouting!  She was shaking and moving real fast. At one time, she even threw down her bible and started church dancing on it.

She threw up, not long after that!  Yep.  That’s what Ms. Mattie say.  (Nodding) She got sick sumptin’ real bad.

Say she got silent all a sudden.. then everything turned dark like a storm was coming. She vomited all over the porch steps then fell slain in the spirit. Down still..she lay.

But, The Horseman didn’t go up there (pointing to the porch) until they was sure she wasn’t getting up.

Once they got up there, they rolled her over..and dat’s when they saw the revolver.

Dat man over der’ (pointing) him in dat gray shirt…He say the walls is covered in blood. I seen em’ bringing bags out all day.

Mama say..the Coroner told her dat’ he ain’t neva seen nothing like dis’ in his 25 years of working and picking up bodies!

Bout time the Pastor and all dem’ church folk showed up..she was already gone. But dey’ say, dey’ keeping vigil for the rest of the week.

So, there they are (pointing across the street). Dey’ been out there… slow-singing and bringing flowers all day.

….”Umph.Umph. Umph.”  (Heads shake)




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Beast of Belly (a feature story in Bi-polar Skits)

Image Credit: Kev Walker

Artist unknown; “Wolf In Sheeps Clothing”

Beast of Belly..a Burden

(Chapter One- Introduction of the Jackal)

He howls loud, especially at night..shouting for release. Yelling to be free.

Pangs and miserable moans..growling..to be heard.

Be still Jackal. I have nothing for you today.”

Kicking me with his bent over slate toes..his withering varicose legs; distorted and cadaverous.

With long curled silver nails, he slashes stripes out of my intestines.

Grown accustomed to his pain..I ignore him.

Distressed he pleads..”I wanna get out..Please.

With a spoonful of sugar and the darkest rum, I try to soothe him. But, he forcefully slobbers it out..bubbling the liquor from his blue lips.

Soon after, I run a warm bath of sweet milk and honey, followed by a gentle massage

of Lavender, Juniper Juice and Almond Oil. I had hopes of relaxing him and changing his

mood, but, the ritual seemed to incite his deviance even further.

He flailed and bawled..cringed and grunted. Contemplated and conspired his next move. Childishly, thumping me with his fingers.

Let me out..Bitch!“..he bursts. 

His bloody tongue spitting and squirting diseased lies. Conjuring up horrid tales while holding my ovaries between his teeth..

He gushes…”I’ll do it Bitch..You know I will. I’ll crush em!“..juices swirling between his slurred


Complacent.. I whisper.. “Be quiet Jackal. Not today.”

I stroke and press… delicately; to soothe him.

He whines and bellows..elbowing my sides.. kneeing my navel.

I hate you girl. I fucking hate you.” (with heavy breath)

Alright, Jackal.. I know. Just calm down.” Shh..I hold and rock him….

From each side he bumps.. “Li..aaah!!!”  he screams. “Let me out..Bitch..let me out!” He tantrums and shakes.

I sigh, “Jackal you’re not being fair.. Stop it.”

In the evening, I cook a full meal. Fresh greens, and rich grains. A sweet potato pie topped with

whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkles. Red wine and mint garnish.

I served it on my Grandmother’s gold-rimmed china, and the best silver. A beautiful, pink, silk, beaded table napkin rested on my lap.

Eat up Jackal..it’s good.”… I smile.

He groans..and rattles. Every bite I try to feed him..he blows back. I hiccup and burp. Desperately trying to hold the food down.

I fizzle…“Stop it! Jackal, Stop it..your gonna make me sick.”

Inhaling I huff, then return to my meal. Watching the dark sky..and the Ivory Chiffon Curtains vibrate from the open window. Candle wax drips into it’s holder; it’s light beautifully flickering. A peaceful scene. Serene and tranquil.

I raise my fork again.. A small bite I take..

He spews it out..over my chin.

Quickly I wipe, and slam the fork onto the table..

“Dammit Jackal!!! I said not tonight! I just wanted to have a peaceful meal..for once!

I push myself from the table, allowing the pretty napkin to fall. Snatch up the plate and utensils… Drown the candle … then toss everything in the trash.

My stomach ripples and shakes.

Angry and silent. Aggressively panting and perspiring I grab my keys, my purse, a coat, the trash, and out the backdoor I go.

Jackal’s (now) skittish and merry..Clapping his idiotic hands.. 


Fuck YOU Jackal.” I snare.

His heels are pressing into my pelvis.. Upright he stands in me. Straight and Firm. Properly saluting

me, in all too familiar fashion.

I toss the bag into the dumpster. Stomp around to the front. Yank open the car door, drive the car into the garage with door still open.  Pull down the garage door. Lock. Then, head down the road.

My breath is uneasy. I’m jittery and edgy. I tell myself to calm down. I try to slow down my breathing and gather my thoughts, but it’s difficult.

The swirling dust and the cool air ignite me deeper.

Balling my fist..I scream as loud as I can..(Yelling at the stars)

Why is this happening?!

With a deep inhale, I shake my head. Quickly resolving that everything, (all of “this”)…is in-fact “Bull Shit”. Softly muttering, repeatedly.

I can’t eat, sleep, or be still. I’ll never be at peace. I hate it.”

My lips perch..and anger turns into frustration. I’m frustrated with Jackal for not compromising. For not seeing things my way. For ALWAYS getting what he wants!

Mad I turn inward..

“Ya hate me, Jackal?  Well, I fucking loathe You! I LOATHE you!” My voice grunted deep between the words, almost unrecognizable.

Tickled he smiles. Rubbing my belly from the inside. 

I don’t hate you. I don’t hate you..” he wickedly sings.

He playfully pinches me, distorting his voice to sound just like mine. Mocking me..”I loathe you.” 

Amused…we both laugh.

I get myself together, and pick up the pace; as if aware of my destination. Quickly and swiftly walking.

But, soon I grew tired and muddled.

We stroll for miles. With hesitation and confusion, I linger in the darkness. Aimlessly wandering.

Kicking rocks in my cowgirl boots. Wanting to return home, but knowing that I won’t be able too.

Distraught with what I’ve become but aware of my lack of choice.

I hate this. I really hate this.  But, Jackal’s all I have. I have no one but him.” I whisper between bitten lips.

In comfort, I submit. I breathe. I relax.

Anxiously, he sways. I pat him still. Once again, my baby. My only friend.

“I know where we’ll go!” I smile.

I turn the corner to the bus station.. We take the bus for a couple of blocks and arrive at the subway.

On the train..

He dances and hums. I twirl my hair and wring the sweat from my hands.

He squeals the numbers of stops the train makes…  “1..2..3..4..5..

As I rise..he excitedly bops around in me….6!!!” he yells. “I knew it! I knew it!”

Off..the train, and a skip of a couple blocks we march.

(Chapter 2- The Bar)

Twilight shuffling through the white double doors with the scrawling chipped paint.

Dips and twists and Dally Oh’s..pack the box. Lush Tavern full of spicy spirits

Lavish Bellies Boast

Beast of Belly..a Burden

A trip up on squeaky stool with turned metal and scarlet slashed vinyl

Fogged glasses of Sailor brew and lonesome cherries.

Old smoke a burning…heavy coughs and cruddy cigars

Blackened mirrors, dusty shelves and dark wine.

We sit at the bar..drinking and patiently waiting.A brush on my shoulder and…. “Here we go.

Jackal quietly listens.

“Hey Sweetness..I haven’t seen you in a while.”

 “Hello. Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you.” I flirt.

Surveying him all over.

It’s him. he’s the one!” Jackal squawks.

“Do you mind?” he motions toward the seat next to me. “No, it’s fine.”

The bartender winks and slides my second drink. “Thanks Harry.” I murmur within my glass.

“Uh..I got it.” Handing his credit card out to Harry. “Alright Man,” yaps Harry, while giving me a side-eye look.

We talk for a while..until Jackal grows restless, and started nudging my sides.

Huu-aaa-ah..” I give out a fake yawn, “Okay. I think I’ll call it a night.” I uneasily rise. Slightly off-balance and slipping off of my seat. Fast, he backs me up and gently anchors me; just like I knew he would.

Mischievously smiling he questions, “I hope you’re not trying to drive? I can take you home, if you like?”

I pretend to hesitate, pausing with a vexed giggle.  “Yeah, that may be best. I don’t think I’m gonna make it.”

I flap my wrist at Harry.. He throws the guy my coat..and we stumble out the door.

“I’m parked in the back.” holding me up by my waist. “Your not gonna be sick are ya?” 

I chuckle “Nah, I’m fine. Your not gonna be sick are ya?” (smirking at him)

A Cherry-red Pick-up truck awaits. “Nice truck” I slither. “What’s that you do again?” I ask. “I work in construction.”

“Right.”(flirting). “I guess that makes you pretty strong, hunh?” while squeezing his biceps.

Blushing, he helps me up into the truck..Gently strapping me in.  “Comfy?”

“Yep.. Totally.”

He locks and shuts the door then unlocks and opens the other.

Once seated I watch him.

Nice looking guy. Clean cut and clear complexion. Kinda plain actually. No jewelry

or watch. His knuckles were awfully red, though. A couple of old scars and scratches

up his arm. There doesn’t seem to be any other distinguishable marks. He appears to

keep to himself, neat from hat to pants..shoes were filthy.  But, he’s in Construction..

so I guess that explains it.

     Jackal pokes me.. “You like him?”

Ah..I guess. He’s attractive enough.

I tell him where to go..and he follows, exactly.

Hey..my house is just up that road”..still slurring my words.  “Oh yeah? How long have you lived here?”

“All my life. It was my Great Grandparents house”.

Up the winding road we go.. the wheels popping dust and gravel.

“Wow..this is a lot of land. You live here alone?” I cough..to hold Jackal down.. “Yes. I live here alone.”

(He pauses) “Humph. Pretty nice.”

We park..

I almost fall out of the car..just to rouse him a bit. He hurriedly comes to my aid. Up the porch

we climb. He helps me up the stairs and holds me tight.

“Just push the door..it’s open”..

(Chapter 3-Judgment Day)

“You don’t lock your door?”  I laugh drunkenly…  “Nope.”

  “Why not?” he asked; sounding a bit puzzled.

“There’s no need.  No one’s gonna come to [this] house. 

I’ve never had a problem.  I guess people just know not to mess with this old place.” 

Still laughing..as we enter the foyer.

“Hmm…but aren’t..?”

I interrupt his next question with the sound of one of my boots flailing against the hallway wall.

I kick off the other and toss my coat and purse to the side. Wobbling on tip-toes, I face the steps..

Holding tight to the banister with my left hand, and unzipping the back of my skirt with the right. Carefully, stepping out of it,while heading up the stairs. I feel him watching from the corner of my eye. I peek..”You coming?” and purposefully swing my hair. 

Breathy, he accepts. The wood bends as he climbs. I hear his keys cling in his pocket and the rustle of his jacket, tenderly rubbing under his arm. His jeans are stiff and thick pressing against his knees. His shoes firmly clap as he steps, he sounds Heavy and Strong.

Ahead of him I stay. Dropping clothing for him to follow…Shirt, Bra..Panties..

At the end of the hall I wait…naked and back facing him, standing in the doorway.

Anxious, I perspire. My chest shivers and rises. Within a slight shake and he’s on-top of me. His chin resting on the top of my head. The zipper of his jacket scratches my back.

“Your very beautiful”. “Thank you” I whisper.

He places his hands on top of my wrists..holding them gently to the door posts.

Is this your room?”


“Can we go in?” My tummy rumbles.. “Yes”. He playfully pauses….”Wait, are you hungry?” and kisses my neck.

“Something like that.” I smile

Heavily he presses against me.. His breath is racy. Releasing one of my wrists he pushes open the door.

Sweet scents explode from the room.  Dimly lit by the nights sky. The moon; full and bright. The room; dark and bare. Empty, except for the bed in the center. White bedding and Cherry-wood head-board. Dark chocolate wood floor. Crimson curtains blow in the distance.

“Umph. Simple and Sweet.”. he states.  “Yep.” I agree

Directing me toward the bed..we walk. Holding me by my shoulders and caressing down my arms..”Turn around…I want to see you”. Softly, I say.. “No. I like you here”. “Oh?” he questions. 

“I mean, I like you were you are”..I correct.

“Oh..okay.” He begins to kiss me. My shoulders, my neck and the center of my back. Tenderly, he pecks at my sides..firmly massaging my thighs.  I (remorsefully) crawl on the bed. Laying on my stomach. Resting and relaxing.

He quietly removes his clothes. Neatly placing his shoes together. Folding over his jacket and pants and carefully placing his shirt on top. Starting from my feet and ankles, he rubs up. Deep and firm with whole hands.

     I sigh..and converse with Jackal. 

I like this.  I really like this. He seems nice, now.” Jackal shushes me. “Shut up girl..I cant hear.”

He massages my back. Affectionately, paying attention to every part.   At my neck he nestles; sucking my earlobe then lifting my hair out-of-the-way.  I feel his hesitation..

“What’s this?” slightly raising from me to take a better view.

Dismayed, he dauntingly asks “What happened?”

“Ah”..I exhale. “I was in an accident a few years back. I had to have surgery, and that’s my scar”.

“Wow!..you don’t mind do you?” gesturing if it’s okay to further inspect.

“No. I don’t mind.”  He further lifts my hair.

“What kind of accident was this? It had to be a very bad one. The scar stretches from the back to the front of your head. With your hair..though..it’s not noticeable.”

Too free and rambling with his words and questions, I grow irritated and bury my face in the bed. 

Oh. I’m sorry.  I don’t want to offend you. It’s just..that..”

I stop him before he continues..”It’s okay. Really. I understand.”

He rubs his finger along the ridges. “Is this metal?”

Yes.” (dryly)

 “Wow..your lucky to be alive.”

“I know. (dryly). He’s starting to piss me off now.

“So did they..”

Look! Can we please get back to where we were before you found the scar? I’ve heard and answered the same questions a thousand times before.”

I uneasily plead..”Please?” while stiffening my body.He leans to the side of me..trying to get a glimpse of my face.. Hovering at my shoulders…

“I’m sorry. Really, I do apologize. I can be an idiot sometimes. Forgive me?”

I turn further away from him and secretly glimmer a smile.

He ducks around me, sheltering me. “You are really pretty, I’ve never met anyone like you.” Jackal coughs and laughs.“Eek..Bullshit. He’s bullshit..Gal.”

“Do it..Do it. Do it!”

I moan, instead of replying to him. Arching and curving my back. My body heats and pulses.   He gently moves with me. I whine more; rolling back and forth against him. Sighing and reveling.

Wow..your getting hot.” excitedly kissing my neck.

My body ecstatically trembles more swiftly.  He tries to move with me..at my pace, but can’t catch up. He wraps his arms around my waist to hold me and pull me closer.

I release more.

“Your skin is so warm..your really heating up!”

Entranced, I could barely hear him. He kept trying to view my face but my movement was making it difficult. My head grew heavy and disjointed. I twisted back and forth, vibrating and shifting. My belly tightened and narrowed. Deeply inside me it tucked. Forcing my breast up and my shoulders back.. I grieved and mumbled. Oozed and uttered. Shuttering inside myself and softly howling.

He tries to grab hold..”Be still. Be still.” he begs.

Frustrated, he forcefully tries to restrain me to enter me.

In the distance I heard him seek…”Are you alright? Hey, what about me? What did you say?

“What the hell is going on?”

     Up me Jackal scurried, scrambling at each side of my breast, whirling through my ribs and into my spine. Hurriedly tumbling about. He whizzed and bustled causing my body to rise and fall in inscrutable ways. Bony lumps poked through my skin. Contracting and constricting simultaneously.

Moans turned to groans.

Passion turned to fear.

Groans soon turned to hollers..

and…Hollers turned to limp prayers….

 “Our Father Who art in heaven hallowed be thy name..thy kingdom come..thy will be…”

     In an instant, out of me he leaped. Jackal climbed into the spaces of the Man’s speech and left his lips dangling.  Each side of the man’s jaw twisted. A slow stream of liquid fell from his eyes, as his pupils stayed locked on me. We watched each other as Jackal riddled his body. Permeating each sector, perforating his pulmonary artery. Sipping from his spleen and chewing on his liver.

     Continuously searching. “Where?..Where?” I hear him call out.

Ducking underneath his left Kidneys. “Where is it? You sick bastard?” He spins around his bladder, up to his large intestine and then around his small intestine..plucking it with his index finger..He sniffs.“Ha!” He snatches another piece of it with his nail. Licks and clicks his tongue. “Yep.”

    Behind his small intestine hid a filthy secret. A war crime long forgotten. A sin he thought he paid for. Vowing never to repeat or speak of the atrocity he committed 20 years ago…he assumed it was over.

He went to church almost every Sunday. He prayed every day. He repented; (he thought). However, each night the ghastly deed would enter his slumber. It’s history and tragedy constantly retold. A haunting of a memory that he had so hoped would end. But, not because of its content, because of his embarrassment. A shameful secret forced to be divulged:

     It was in Mahmudiyah, South of Baghdad, he and five other soldiers were drinking and playing cards at their assigned checkpoint. One soldier spoke of a young Iraqi girl he’d often seen doing chores in a house just up the road. He obsessed over her to the group and boasted of how he’d been hunting her for weeks. He suggested that they should all go have some fun with her. A couple of more swigs..and it was a go.

    In bright desert sun, the team; holding tight to their weapons entered the home. Taking hostage the girl’s family in one room, while raping her in a another. Three of them repeatedly raped and tortured the 14 yr. old girl. In a fog of confusion, Tony contemplated and hesitated on taking part. Yet, he watched. 

    At one point, a comrade asked him to hold her ankles because she was rapidly flailing about. He numbly obliged. Sweaty and sick, endorphin and adrenalin charged, but unconscious he was unable to hear the gunshots in the near bedroom.Too drunk with fear and perversion, he didn’t hear them announce that it was “His turn.”

 “Tony, come on man..you want some of this..?” Unresponsive, he stuck. 

He stood motionless when they shot and killed her. His pupils dilated while he guarded.He fumbled; cautiously backing away as kerosene soaked the scene. His face brilliantly Red-Hot from the flames. He oversaw it all with shotgun in hand. Drenched of sweat and blood Tony fled with the rest of the pack.

    He later testified at the civilian trial, that he was traumatized with fear. He was already dealing with the stress of war and death. He explained that he was terrified of his fellow officers. Of course never admitting that he was more fearful of what they would think of him, if he had protested or sought help. 

He told himself, that it was nothing he could do. 

This is war. There’s no discrepancy in war. Is there?” 

Comforted for years with his response; he frequently asserted his self-proclaimed declaration…”It was his duty as a soldier to maintain a violent nature. It is necessary in war.” He assured himself, that once he completed his Military service that he would leave it all behind.

And, he did. He lived a quiet and modest life. Never once in a brawl, a dispute, or ever to lose his temper. Upright and correct. “A Misguided Hero” in the eyes of his Commanding Officers and a Silent Soldier to his country.

    But Jackal knew.  He knew it as soon as we walked into the bar. He sensed it. He called out to the immortality (damnation). He heard the death, lies, and transgression. He found the sin..just like always. Bit by bit Jackal gobbled each morsel of terror. He cringed in delight with every abomination he swallowed.

   Suspended in silence we tracked each other.

His gaze panicked and petrified. Paralyzed and stiff.

Me amazed and torn. Tired of the trauma and being used as the Beast’s portal. There is so much that I’ve seen and been exposed to and there will never be happiness for me. No man is without sin but the weight of judgment is heavy upon me.

A balancing act. I juggle the sins from hand to hand. Jackal weighs them and Jackal convicts.

    At last, he’s finished. Jackal burps loud and cackles as he rises from the man.

   “Here I come, here I come gal!“…he yells, proudly.

My eyes water. Dare I admit that I shed tears. No tears have bled from my eyes, since the accident. Jackal keeps me strong. We do a duty that must be done. No exceptions.

All crimson and grisly..he hangs from the man’s tongue.. He winks, then flies through the parts of my teeth, lovingly patting my cheek before he enters. As soon as he places his feet upon my tongue..my breath returns. I deeply inhale to help him along the way. Easy he slides and slips into my belly.

    Motionless The Man sits.

I carefully back away from him. Scooting off the bed and unto the floor. I Grab a neatly folded outfit from underneath the bed. Jeans, t-shirt, wind-breaker and sneakers.

Solemnly, I dress myself then redress the Man.

His lifeless body is rigorous but I manage. He stares at me; speechless. His lashes flicker and his eyes stay wide. I’d like to comfort him, but I know I can not. I slightly smile and push him back onto the bed.

     “You’ve been punished for the Sins you committed in Baghdad!” I reassuringly yet assertively say. “You are without a soul, which means you are dead. Shortly, you will regain movement of your body, but it will only last for a brief while. You must do everything that I say to make your transition easier.”

His pupils began to dart.

     “Listen carefully. As soon as you gain strength in your legs you must immediately leave my home. Get in your truck and go!”

I intensely watch him, nodding my head for him to agree.

     “If you do not leave on your own, your time left here will be extremely painful. Your speech is limited so dare not speak of this to anyone.”

His face starts to twitch. Sadly, I view him.

Before I left the room, I bent to whisper in his ear…

    “Such a shame, you were a handsome coward.” I cluck my tongue and utter more…

“But, you’d better RUN…as soon as you can and as FAST as you can. Victimized Souls are known to claim Salvation in this house.”



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Juniper’s Toss Up

Juniper play


A peek of the red lace fluffed from my blouse. London plaid skirt clung to my waist… then pleated down my upper thigh. Black knee-length combat boots..tightly laced. My hair pulled back in rippled ponytail and bright red lipstick. I carried my favorite Burberry Journal just to top the look off.  It was my ode to Great Britain.

Not my usual attire for the library, but I knew he’d be there. His monthly lecture on “The New Developments In Medicine.” was just wrapping up.. The stiffs, shuffling out the room. Stale musky air on their backs. Tan and Beige wool coats..gray and blue polyester slacks, and wide flat leather shoes.

When they leave, I shout “So, is this your way of getting more money?…Clever” I snare; with a half raised smile.

“Of course not.” he remarks (slyly) “You know me better than that.”

I laugh…”Exactly.”

“So, how have you been?”

“Just fine sir… Simply Dandy.”  while spinning and giving him a whirl of my skirt.

“I see that”…he smiles.

Gathering his things, he moves closer. “So.. (lingering) What can I do you for?”

“Hmm.” I smile.  “I just came by to see you. Can’t I do that?

“Sure, but that’s not something that you ever do.”

(Giving him a naughty look, and folding my arms) “Oh..that’s not nice.  I’m always up to see you.”

“Right.” He adamantly sparks and walks away toward the rest of his stuff.

Acknowledging his tone, I ask..”Are you mad at me?

“I wouldn’t say that I was mad.  I’m just not into this game you keep playing.”

“What game?” I frown.

“The game where your all over me for a day or two..then I can’t get a hold of you for months.  Then you text me..or pop up..like everything is fine.”

He shuffles his papers and books.

“It’s too much of a roller coaster. I told you I liked you, June.  But, if you keep doing this.   I don’t want to see you.”

“Aww, baby”..I pout.  I’m sorry. I guess I thought you were just talking..I didn’t think you were (THAT) serious.

“WHAT!” his voice raises.  “What do you mean..that Serious?!  June..this is not a joke.  We’ve been messing around for almost 2 years now.  Are you kidding?”

I nervously, chuckle.  “Nope…I’m not kidding.  I know we like each others company, but I didn’t want to assume it was more than that. Sorry, that’s  just what I thought.”

“Dammit” he whispers. Hovering over me and bending to my face. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Eye to eye, now.  “I’ve helped you all I can, Juniper..  I can’t do it anymore. Bye.” and  He heads for the door.

He’s serious.  I huff and exhale.  “Wait” I mumble uneasily.  Oh no, he is serious. “Wait!” I screamed; following behind him.  He turned and gave me the meanest look.

Back in my face…”Juniper! We are in a library!” he glances around..”This is my job and reputation, don’t do this, here.”  His lips were wrinkled and twisted..His voice was stern and bitter.

He was indeed MAD.

I touch his hand. Bow my head and say “I’m sorry. I’m very sorry”  in a soft innocent voice.

He looks at me, darts his eyes toward the door.. Yanks his hand away and turns.

Once he reaches the door, he motions for me to follow.

On his heels, I skip.

Around the back of the building and into the parking lot, we go.

He pops the trunk..throws his things in.and slams the hood. I stand silently the entire time..

He opens the back car door..”Get in!”  I look with wide-eyes.

“Kids sit in the backseat.” he said.

I brush pass him..and climb in.   He climbs in too.

On top of me..he laughs.  We both laugh.

“You sure you still want to be a doctor?” I ask.  Cause I think you’ll make an Awesome Actor!  You really had me believing you.”  (l laugh) Oh, my god.. I even got chills.”

We both crack up..

“Are you wearing panties?”

I smile. “What do you think?”


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The Fisherman

Tackle Box
Pretty Feathers

Pretty Feathers Image Credit: Mantra Lotus

He ripped them off.  Plucked each turned feather..and ripped them off. Naked, and no longer able to fly..it sits; (she sits).  No longer beautiful, or priceless. Broken, shameful, and unwanted.

She once flew high..with bright magenta wings..Velvety blue crown with royal purple crest…soaring boundless, relentless, and elevated. Beautiful feathers she stretched wide. Proud for all to see.

While fishing he spotted the Rare, Radiant Beauty.  He vowed and made an adamant declaration,”I gotta have that bird.”  Arrogant and confident   “I WILL have that bird!”

She smiled from above delighted by the attention.

Everyday, he would go to the pond..with his bait, his sea-green tackle box and barely mended fishing rod.  He would pretend to be happily fishing.

Humming along with a cackling old radio.  He would bob his head and rock, smiling a toothy grin.

She thought him funny. “That noise is scaring the fish away, silly man”.

I’ll have to show him how it’s done.  She seductively flapped her wings, letting them drop softly, slightly tilting she drifted unto the pond water.   On the water she gracefully floated. Silently approaching her prey.  She bent her long beautiful neck and retrieved her jewel.

“Ah” replied the Fisherman.  Exquisite.   “Your beautiful.” he called out.

She fluffed her feathers in acknowledgement but quickly ascended.

High she flew. Gliding splendidly and free.

He watched her from below, with his hands relaxed behind his head, leaning back in his plastic lawn chair; entranced by her. He mentally recorded every movement. Memorizing every single part of her.  “I gotta have that bird”.

Everyday he returned..and everyday she taught him how to “properly” fish.

He soon started bringing gifts for her..that he would leave at the bank before his retire.

He would hide in the bushes to watch her response.  She would hop and dance with appeasement…

The Fisherman would pat himself on the back.

Eventually, he started putting the treats in his hand for her to come and get. She would dart fast but graceful to retrieve them then retreat back high.  But, gradually, she began to linger a bit longer.

One memorable evening, he mustered up the courage to touch her. So perfect she was to him.  So flawless, so religious, pious and magical. He tenderly reached out to her..She stiffened and prepared her defense (just in case) But, so gentle he was.. she grew weak and docile.

Affectionately he petted.  Devoting his attention to every feather.  He adored her; she knew it. She grew unafraid. She began to favor his touch and yearn for him every evening.  She anxiously waited for his return.

When he came to see her, he would instantly stretch out his hand…simultaneously she would come.  Quickly she flew, fluttered and descended.  Down to his hand she dropped.  Lowering her beautiful head..and he stroked her.  He would shiver; orgasmic.  She would sweetly fondle. Once it was over..she reluctantly flew away.

One day, he arrived.  He held out his hand and promptly she flew.  Instead, of caressing her with the opposite hand like before, he hurriedly covered her with a net. Wrapped her up in it and knotted the end.

Confused she fluttered..flapping hysterically, squawking and crying.

He gazed upon her, wet mouthed and flushed. Wide eyed he watched her struggle.  He then smiled and hushed her.  “Aww baby, it’ll be alright.  Just calm down, you’ll see.”

He grabbed the empty tackle box and the rest of his fruitless equipment and tossed it into the trunk while dangling her in the net. He eagerly placed her on the front seat beside him.

In horror, she watched.  His face now unfamiliar. Unrecognizable were his expressions. He bobbed his head to music, that she was deaf too.  He spoke of things she never heard of.

Frightened, she sunk and covered herself with her wings..  (only to discover that some of her wings had been lost in the struggle)..around her she saw pink fragments of what once was.

“We’re almost there baby.  YOUR Castle awaits!  I’ve been working on it ever since I met you.  You only deserve the best.  I know you’re gonna like it..you’ll see.  Don’t worry. I’m gonna take good care of you” he said.

Once arrived..he nonchalantly yanked her out of the car..holding her up by the knot.  “Look, at it!  Isn’t it just perfect!”

She barely opened her eyes to view the monstrosity that he called a “Castle”.  A dark brown building with black bars on the windows..and the word “Castle” painted on the door.

She shrilled.  She flailed about..and begged to be taken back.  At no avail, he laughed.  “I didn’t know you were this feisty. I like it.”  Quiet she shuddered.

The inside was just as dreary as the out.  Very dimly lit with low ceilings. In the center of the room was a white metal cage.  He unloosed her and threw her in.  “You sit her for a while..until you calm down.  Are you hungry?”  (she answered  not)

“Is it warm enough for you?  Is it comfy?”  (she answered not)

Enraged, he began to pound the bars of the cage with his fist. He shook and rattled the sides..shaking her within.  “Did you hear me Birdy?!  I asked you a question? ARE…YOU…COMFY?! ” Yes! she shrieked.

“Well, alrighty then” he said. Snickering and mocking her.

For the next couple of days, he kept consistent watch of  her in the cage.  Studying her.  Admiring her.  Wanting her. Laughing at her.  Mocking her.  Intimidating her and breaking her.

She grew tired and hungry.  Lost and confused. It didn’t take long for her to give up.  She submitted fully.

During the day, he kept her caged up. At night he would let her out, but always tethered by her ankle .  She would fly into the ceiling, crash into the walls and windows. He would chuckle “Silly Bird”.

Sometimes, he would tie her to the bed posts and parade her from room to room.  Sometimes, he would force her to flutter her wings..to open them wide, wiggle them and dance for him.  “Show me your pretty colors” he would demand..(she would)

Anything he asked of her, she did.

Her colors began to fade. She was never allowed sunlight and never allowed to fly. Tragically, she soon forgot how.

Her feathers became thin and before long she turned completely gray.  Engrossed by her appearance and her lack of beauty the Fisherman resented her.  He resented her cage “in his space”.  He hated the rustle of her feathers.  He teased and mocked her.  Demeaned and beat her.  Belittled and torn she hid day-to-day, tucked in the corner of her cage.

Until, one day he left with the all too familiar sea-green tackle box, bent fishing rod, bait, and busted radio.

He taped a ripped note to her cage that read:

“Gone fishing.. (YOU) be gone when I come back”.

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Colors (Healing from the Blue Lady)


The chimes clanged as I closed the door behind me. A break in the silence I tried to allude.
“I should take that thing down”..my mind commented. The crystal wind-chimes, now dusty.. fogged and gray; mirroring my unbalanced state. “All of this crap” I complain as I survey the room. A Red Buddha sculpture catches my response.

“Whateva”. I flung my hair to the left of my shoulder.

Muddy shoes, I kicked off. Running in the damn rain..”Stupid”..I muttered. I torture myself, for what? I’ll be sick and still will have to work.. Sick.. but not sick enough. “Ridiculous”.

Dirty, wet, and sweaty.. I collapse onto the bed. No bother with the covers, on top I lay. No bother with removing my clothes. No shower needed; “No one will smell me anyway. Well, maybe the coroner if I’m lucky”..I smirk. One last sigh and I’m off to sleep.

My belly hurts.. I think (within sleep). “It’s because your black”. She says.

“What?” I confusingly respond.

“Your black and dirty”..she whispers. I chuckle, with my face buried into the bed. “Well, your blue”. I laugh.

“Would you like me to help?” she quietly asked.

“Can you?” I immediately answer, while peering through squinted eyes.

“Yes. Turn over.”

I grudgingly flip around.

She takes her sapphire hands and hovers them above my head. My eyelids flutter. I feel her hands driving down my body. She lingers at my stomach.. “Your too angry, You need to calm down.”

“I’m trying”. I wither.

She scolded, “Your not trying.. you’re hurting yourself.”

I feel her hands pulsate at my pelvis.. heat floods my uterus and along my fallopian tubes.

The color red burns my eyes. “Hey, purple lady..” I immaturely smirk and roll the words against my tongue.

She grins.. “Relax”.

Small needles penetrate my navel. A burning twinge, takes hold. The pain intensifies and creeps up my rib cage. “It hurts” I plead.

“It’s supposed to, darling”.

My legs tense and my toes straighten. My thighs plump tight until they cramp. Clinging to the bed, my nails pull the covers. My back curves underneath me; pushing my stomach out.

“It hurts.” I repeat.

“Shh..” It’s okay. she smiles.

I feel my intestines constrict. My abdomen spasms. In and out it hardens. All over my body, my muscles contract.

My teeth grind. “Please stop.. It hurts.” I beg.

My voice now, sounds broken. I can’t breathe. Air struggles from my lungs. Gasping and frightened, I ask her..”Are you killing me?”

She smiles.. “No, YOU are killing you.”
“I’m helping you”.

Tears gather in the corners of my eyes. They drip behind my ear.

I watch as the red light turns to black. Black illuminates the air. Her blue face, now ashen.

Dazed and distant from my body, I concentrate on her. Until, I am no longer able to view her.

I drift away.

A blue-silk sea carries me. Weightless I float. Quiet, I question my ability to hear. No sound. No flapping of air or wisps of water.

Complete silence. Familiar but forgotten. Painless and hurt free. I lay; motionless and unchanging.

Simply existing. Uncluttered and free. Peace engulfs me and (I let it).

The sea then took me to a field of yellow. “Jasmine”…Hmm. I forgot how much I love it. Yellow flowers covered me. Their petals calmed and relaxed me. They swayed and hushed me to sleep.

I woke again. But, this time.. I was free, without any affliction. I woke feeling humble and content.

Joy tickled my chest and laughter twirled in the creases of my mouth.

I woke changed.

Rays of blue light, highlighted with yellow,came through the blinds; beaming on my skin.

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IT (A Halloween tale for the kiddies)

"The Possession"

Tucked away in the secret realm of the unseen and invisible…”IT” lives..

Deep inside the film of Butterfly wings…IT waits.

In between Rhinoceros toes IT creeps

Underneath Pot-belly pigs bellies IT sleeps

IT eats through the scales of Lizard’s legs and hula hoops in Giraffe’s spots

…..from puppy dog’s tails IT hangs and swings AND sways

Then, on the night before Halloween… when clouds are thick and gray..IT hitches a ride on the nearest eagles neck

and travels high… through dark skies

Stealthily IT lands at sunrise…

With double-quick speed, IT runs through tall grass then scales up the closest tree….

On a branch, stuck to the back of a beetle, IT clings,

IT rustles the leaves every time a child passes…

They cry out IT’S message: “Tonight, will be the night that I will give you a Terrible, Most Terrible, Fright..”

You pretend that you don’t hear, and hurry on by..a quick chill rushes though your bones; but soon disappears when you think of what is near…

Excitement bustles “Oew.. it’s Halloween!”

As the day passes; IT too is all a flutter, hopping along Rabbits paws, and clapping to the rhythm of Owls hoots…

“It’s almost time, it’s almost time, it’s almost time..” IT caws…and sings.

When the night settles in, IT dances it’s Rooster Dance… “Oew..oo..oo. oo..yea, yea…” clapping its hands ferociously.

“It’s time, it’s time.. It’s time”.

In a flurry IT rushes with haste…. It slithers up your front porch… to the right of the door it stoops… “nah, nah…not right.”IT peeps.

Scurrying to the left of the door, IT droops… (with hand in hand, diabolically twisting) cunningly grinning; IT anticipates…”Nah, nah, not right, either”.. IT hollers.

IT quickly scampers underneath the doormat.. “No!” IT shrieks, “They might step on me, nah, nah, not right”….

“I got it!” IT hisses… Fast. IT slithers up the side of the house, on top of roof; IT perches. In perfect view and reach of the front door, IT lingers….

IT watches….

IT breaths….

IT watches, and breaths, and sweats… and pants…


….the door creaks, the knob turns, light beams onto the porch… You appear in the doorway, decked out in your best costume…

Unaware of whats to come… You…

(IT smiles a smile so broad, that it stretches from each pointy ear to the next… IT leans in…)


You step one foot out…

IT leans further…

You lift the other leg… and down goes the final foot….

IT.. rises… and stretches…and spreads itself wide….with limbs outstretched…and claws erect.. then … IT leaps….




Happy Halloween..




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