Poetry Corner – “Are We in Love?”

 

“Are We in Love?”

Saturdays, summer days spent in seclusion
Wasting away our lives in this delusion
Saving face, amazing grace, where will this lead?
Tell me, but maybe, you don’t know the seed
Of this life-plaguing eventuality
Where do we go when faced with reality?

So now I’m forced to make the inquiry
Are we in love?
It seems our wedded bliss just a fantasy
Are we in love?

Untrue, who knew our love was unreal
The thing that grew was hunger’s zeal
Wasted time on lies, what do we do?
Thru my eyes I only find choices a few
I gotta save my life; death won’t suffice
Leaving you’s the only thing right

So now I’m forced to make the inquiry
Are we in love?
It seems our wedded bliss just a fantasy
Are we in love?

Floating, we are here on a vast sea
Until we cast out love to memory
So say goodbye to pretending to love me

Saturdays, summer days being on my own
Spending time, just getting by all alone
Saving face, amazing grace, where will I go?
To myself true everything I do till my life is done
Cast out love to memory
So say goodbye to pretending to love me

You were not in love

Poetry Corner – “You and Me”

“You and Me”

Let’s blow out the candles
Sweep away the flower petals
I’d rather take up arms
With our backs merged
Take on a firing squad
Knowing we’re a good duo

Don’t call me beautiful, darling
Save the sentiment for the margins
I’d rather battle with my mind
Even though you’ll win everytime
Superseding me in my view
But I am here to learn

Forget those shiny distracting things
Save them for a material spirit
I’d rather receive things without a tag
Indulge me in the mundane
Spoil me with the unknown
There exists space to grow

When all the clamor reaches its end
In the quiet of the night
Cityscape twinkling like stars behind
If it appeases to hold me close
I will not argue for Long
The most important thing of all

Midnight Moon – “The Marking”

“The Marking”

She was angry.

Anger persisted as a side effect of her ability to control fire; the emotion rolled through her like molten lava, threatening to spew through her pores at any given moment. The mind, Aurora would always say, controlled the body, therefore the mind should always be strong. (Of course, Angelia would not always agree, being more agile than mentally controlled.)

But the soul, Felice interjected softly, superseded them all.

Her soul toiled with restlessness and fury. Perhaps that was why, when she picked up the bo, even though her mind and body had transcended to a space of peaceful tranquility, her fingertips darkened the mahogany wood.

“You can refuse you know,” he told her, back straight, the grip on his own bo firm but casually dangerous.

A muscle twitched in her thigh–the only movement of her body. Her soul, on the other hand, smoldered with contempt.

“Like hell I will,” she shot back.

The weight of the looks from their allies thickened the air between them. The wind held its breath; the sun did not blink.

She sprang first, swinging the stick as rushed forward. He stopped her onslaught with a smooth lifting of his own bo. Every move of hers, he evaded. Every blow, he blocked. Goddammit! she cursed inwardly. She wanted to win. As the blood thudded through her body and mind, her soul coveted victory. Yes, Felice won the argument this time.

However, her mind produced an idea: burn him.

Their training focused not only their physical and mental development but also on their special abilities. They were gifted. Why else were they here?

Her eyes narrowed on a spot on her opponent’s hand. Wanting to best me, are you? Her eyes went tawny. Let’s see you forget me now.

The bo clamored to the ground as a cry met the spectators’ ears. They watched as he paused, looking at his hand, then looking at the dark-haired young woman before him in stupefaction.

Her soul was smug. No matter how many times he defeated her now, that scar would be there forever.

2013

I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you out there for reading my blog. A writer needs support and feedback, no matter how thick-skinned they believe they are. So thank you all for liking and following me. Arigatou gozaimasu!

I deliberately did not post anything the last couple of days of 2012; I wanted to take some time and consider the year on my own without philosophizing about it (as I tend to do).  2012 was not a bad year, but like the ones before it, I am glad that existed and that it has passed. I spent the last night of the year on my own and was peacefully sleeping when the year changed. I do not regret that one bit. I have plenty of time to celebrate on my own terms, for whatever reason that arises. I hope you all were safe and are enjoying the first day of 2013.

Wonderful things are in store for us all.

D-chan

Poetry Corner – “Unbreakable”

“Unbreakable”

You walk with that stride
That says you won’t take too kind
To someone jerking you around
But then she comes along
With the one thing that shakes you from the inside

Don’t try to be so hard
You’re not unbreakable
You shouldn’t be so scared
The truth is all we have to bear
Don’t think I’m so fragile
But sometimes I’m breakable, too

You’ve got your armor
Like you’ve played one’s shining knight
More times than the sky’s seen light
And she comes along
With that one thing that makes you want to fight
Once more, just for her

I’ve stood the polite distance to give you privacy
Working on the logic that keeps me from lunacy
You’ve got ghosts and I’ve my own, no lie
But why does she have to matter so much this time?

Don’t try to linger too long
You’re not unbreakable
You should be more wary
She will use you with no caring
Don’t think I’m so fragile
But sometimes I’m breakable, too

Don’t be so hard, don’t linger
Don’t be so scared, be wary
Don’t think I’m so fragile

I can be strong
But not for very long

Poetry Corner – “Janus”

“Janus”

A man stands on the edge of yesterday and tomorrow
To his eye these ruins are grossly incomplete;
From his mind, this is quite not what he divined;
A god of his own world professed he to be–
Greatness was not built in an instant, mon ami!
What gift we better given than time?
Nothing comes until Fate summons it forth
And fits snugly into the tapestry of our existence;
Bitterness sours the supple mind
That takes us through those open doors

So battle that sentiment! Axe it if you will.
Living never comes without obstacle,
Nothing wondrous was won with wondering.

Midnight Moon – “A Gifted Christmas” Scene Two

To all of you out there, I hope you have had a restful Merry Christmas and Happy Holiday!

Don’t dread going back to the norm too much, and I’ll try not to as well 🙂

______________

II

Sophia Flannery, better known as Sophie, peered at the adults before her. She barely knew them; this event marked the first time the thirteen-year-old had seen all of them since she entered the world in a hospital in Asteria, blessed by the Crown Princess. Judging from what her world had taught her, the people that formed this group were diverse and precious.

The aforementioned Princess now stood at her twin’s elbow, fighting to calm the nerves that Miyori Arashi made awry. Aurora Sanford, Sophie knew, possessed a strength of mind that rivaled a monk; from the whispers, the furtive looks in certain directions, Sophie figured something had sent her off-stride that went deeper than a parlor trick from the resident magician.

The rest of the adults continued the dinner preparations; Moira-Selene Thomas, her lifesaving talents momentarily unnecessary, laid out the silverware with unerring precision. Megami Takumi Hill, radiant in green sheath dress aimed to make Jamie Cook, her date, drool (and certain others burn with jealousy), arranged the table decorations with panache. Sophie’s eyes swept over them and did not stop until she spied Daniella Thomas holding two wineglasses by their stems in one hand and gesticulating with the other. Kaneshi Tsukimori appeared to be the other person in this exchange but held up his end rather poorly. He seemed distracted. He and Aurora both?

“A pretty girl like you does not need to be thinking this heavily at such a moment.”

The melodic voice of her aunt Bridget resembled the presence of the Gifted Nine in its rarity; ever since Bridget suffered the loss of her husband–Sophie’s uncle–she flirted with the outskirts of familial attention; she visited sporadically and never lingered. That made her touch on Sophie’s shoulder ever the more precious.

“I’m just wondering is all,” Sophie responded idly.

“Wondering what, my sweet?”

“Why they’re so sad. It’s Christmas. They should all at least be stumbling around on spiked eggnog.”

Sometimes Bridget forgot her niece’s level of perception; so long had she endeavored to protect Sophie that she had neglected to prepare her for the dissolution of her innocence. She hadn’t had time to prepare herself.

Bridget followed Sophie’s olive green gaze. Ah, she mused. She knew the shadow hanging in the background of this scene–she could almost see the flash of black hair so dark it was blue.

“As much as I wish I could explain to you,” Bridget murmured, “you’ll understand more than I would like by the time the night is over.”

Before Sophie could implore her aunt to elaborate, Isabelle entered the room, blanketing everyone in her gentle peace. Samantha, Gretchen, and Melanie tiptoed in behind her all carrying side dishes, while Miyori stumbled into the room with more than a few battle lumps and the inanimate ham. Jessica escaped virtually unscathed–status quo for the Warrior.

“I believe it’s time to eat,” Isabelle announced.

In the back of the room, the aforementioned Detective Michael O’Lara held up a bottle of wine. “And drink,” he added, earning a few chuckles.

As hostess, Isabelle only sat when her guests were seated; she initiated the passing of the food and only received when everyone else had a helping. She smiled at the exultation expressed over plates; her smile only dimmed when she noticed subtle signs of suffering.

Her gazed locked with Bridget’s. Not yet.

“So Mo’s gonna be the DD tonight, right?” Eric teased Mick.

“Believe it or not, I can hold my liquor better than some,” Mick rejoined. His light eyes flicked in Moira-Selene’s direction.

“I cannot help that my post graduate education did not include Keg Standing 101,” Moira-Selene quipped. “I believe drinking is a pasttime better partaken in the privacy of one’s own home. Men are gentler devils under their own roofs.”

“Sometimes I don’t know if it’s coming out of her ass or if she’s quoting Shakespeare,” Danie remarked, already on a second glass of wine. Jessica rolled her eyes.

“All right, gemelas,” Isabelle chided. “It’s Christmas. Save the quarrelling for Boxing Day.”

Danie leveled a jesting violet stare upon her twin. “At midnight I’m coming after you with a Nerf bat.”

“That’s if you can find me.”

Danie sat back abruptly with revelation, eyes dancing. “Oh hermana–are you staying at Mick’s tonight?” She whistled bawdily, making her sister blush.

Gretchen sipped on wine. “Good thing someone’s getting some.”

Samantha frowned. “Gretch, I don’t know why you’re complaining. I know you’ve been having fun with your–” Samantha bit off the rest of her sentence; she could feel the phantom kick from Isabelle. Sophie watched her intently.

“Your floatation device,” Samantha finished lamely.

Megami giggled. “I love when they’re waterproof!” Evident it was then what Jamie gave her for Christmas.

Despite themselves, the adults engaged in mildly mischievous conversation; Sophie, so observant of the looks that passed between her mother and aunt, hardly noticed the subject matter.

Finally, after the meat had nearly been reduced to bones, Bridget gave a nod and rose from her seat.

When she returned, she hefted a canvas framed in gilt that nearly dwarfed her. Conversations dropped off as the attention fell upon this new occupant.

“I know we agreed not to exchange gifts,” Bridget said to the quiet room, “but I believe we can make an exception for this one.” Her hazel eyes hovered on the solemn man before her. “Kane?”

Kane looked up, dark eyes wide and slightly startled. He could barely speak as Bridget presented him with the painting done by his late sister’s hand. The colors sizzled with their warmth. The touch of the artist was deft, showing skill along with care. The movement of the two figures conveyed a pause in combat, the climax of a man and woman sparring: the searing of the man’s left ring finger and the golden eyes betraying the show of power.

“It’s called The Marking,” Bridget explained.

Danie placed a hand over her heart. “The day in Victoria Field when we fought…”

“Where–?” Kane choked out.

“She asked me to keep it for her,” Bridget responded. “It’s been in a storage unit this whole time. I found it two weeks ago.” Kane raised his eyes to hers. “It’s yours, Kane. I know you’ve been missing her lately.”

Kane nodded silently, awed by his gift from the sister thought he had long lost. After a moment, he murmured, “Arigatou gozaimasu.”

After a beat: “Could someone explain what the hell is going on?” From Mick O’Lara.

Moira-Selene all but smacked her own forehead.

Laughter entered again as Angelia, who had been supervising at the time, attempted to explain the context of the picture. Blushing glances passed in-between Kane and Danie; some of the heaviness in his heart had disappeared and it showed in his eyes. Even Aurora seemed a little lighter.

Sophie understood, wrapped up in that moment, the spirits of Christmas and Sakura Tsukimori were vital in this room, and they were as welcome as life.

Midnight Moon – “A Gifted Christmas” Scene One

“A Gifted Christmas”

I

Bedlam had descended, and it was armed with tinsel, turkey and stuffing.

In the kitchen of the normally calm house that Isabelle Flannery usually called home, Jessica Thomas stood frowning at the gravy she stirred with a wooden spoon. So deep she existed in her contemplation that she hardly noticed her younger brother peering over her shoulder.

Muttering under her breath about viscosity, Jessica grabbed a measuring cup full of water–just a yelp sounded from the dining room. Whirling toward the clamor, she nearly back-handed her brother and the water sloshed in the cup. Luckily, Eric’s reflexes almost matched her own–or he would have been on his way to the emergency room.

“Dammit–” Jessica began.

“Please don’t kill me,” Eric pleaded. “I was just checking on dinner. Do you need any help?”

Jessica pursed her lips together. “Let me guess. Miyori sent you in here.”

Eric shrugged. “I came on my own. You wouldn’t maim family would you?” A growl was Jessica’s response. At this point, who could be sure of anything, especially fratricide?

A crash preceded the hasty emergence of the man in question with three angry females hot on his heels. Narrowing her eyes, Jessica pulled out her cache of super-quick reflexes and did her allies a favor. Within a blink, Miyori lay on the tile, staring dumbfounded at the ceiling.

Samantha Dunne cheered. The windows rattled at the outburst of energy. “Hell fucking yeah, Jess! I knew you were always my favorite cousin.”

Beside her, Gretchen, Jessica’s little sister, pouted. “Hey, I thought I was your favorite cousin.”

“Not since you’ve got that dubstep shit stuck in my head,” Samantha retorted. This time Gretchen only fumed.

Miyori sucked in a breath before rising; his collision with the floor had been rather abrupt and highly uncomfortable. “I’ll have you know that I hardly deserve such treatment. The reports of my so-called shenanigans are highly exaggerated.”

Melanie Smith crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip to the side. “So says the asshole who decides to turn the tinsel into a snake while we’re putting it on the tree. I really oughta kick you right now and let you bleed!”

“I thought Mo was going to have to do CPR on poor Aurora,” Gretchen added.

Faced with the discomfort of his beloved princess, Eric punched Miyori in the shoulder. “What the hell, man?”

Miyori put his hands up in a gesture of defense. “It wasn’t poisonous. I don’t know what they’re so mad about. It wouldn’t have bitten anyone.”

“That’s hardly the point,” Gretchen said. “I don’t think it would sit well with anyone if their Christmas decorations metamorphosed into a slithery, hissing thing.”

“Real talk,” Samantha agreed.

A timer dinged; Jessica disentangled herself from the scene momentarily to extract the ham from the oven. Miyori stepped forward–only to meet with Jessica’s fist. Unlike Eric’s blow, this one had him staggering a few steps.

“What?” Jessica blinked innocently, all the while balancing the pan in one hand. “It was just a little punch.”

Glowering, Miyori’s mouth twitched; a split second later, the meat blinked up at the bemused cook and let out a distinctive oink.

Jessica’s eyes widened. She thrust the squealing dinner into her little sister’s arms and dived for the already moving Illusionist.

“What is going on in here?” Isabelle asked, looking every bit the part of the Mother with her long black curls unbound framing an expression of exasperation.

Melanie shook her head. “Miyori turned the tinsel into a snake, we chased him in here, and he turned the ham from cooked to spooked. Now Jessica’s pissed at him.”

As Samantha cheered on the beatdown and Gretchen chewed on her lip with the pan in her arms (the animated ham squirming all the while), Isabelle sighed. Why had she volunteered to host Christmas dinner at her house this year? Dios Mio!

Isabelle rubbed her temples, a tension headache beginning to form. “I think we may need to start dinner before someone dies.”

“No worries,” Melanie retorted. “If she kills him we can hide him in her wine cellar. No one will even notice he’s gone until after New Year’s. He won’t even be sober until then.”

No one is committing murder under my roof–especially not while I have one of Gracia’s finest sitting with a Guinness in my living room.” Stride full of purpose, Isabelle picked up the measuring up full of water and dashed it on the dueling duo.

Pause.

When they peered at her incredulously, fighting instincts to attack, she turned on her best hostess grin. “Time for dinner!”

Awed, Gretchen muttered, “Now why didn’t we think of that?”

 

TBC

Poetry Corner – “Façade”

I have put on too many faces
Guises to fool everyone on the outside
I’ve got a costume for every demeanor
However I feel when the wind shifts direction
When the charade ends I draw the curtain
Stumble back into the solitude I know for certain
The only thing that ensures my serenity
Too many say they know the real me
But in reality, none of them know a thing

Poetry Corner – “Receive/Give”

“Receive/Give”

He presents a present–a contradiction!
What shall we think of thoughtful gesture?
And she pleaded for nothing, bemused reception;
The meaning of this–shall we find our scope?
Underneath the glass lurks from your vantage
View however you see it–torn by warring sentiments;
So rare an object should not be wasted 
On a companion of little worth–
Ah, but this is not of weight, of consequence!
Merely left over, something he happened to have–
Can’t you see friends, it is hardly more than trifle!
Do not raise your hopes, he’d soon give it to a stranger;
And that she assures herself with the reaction
That she should not lack in generosity.
‘Tis the season for such demonstration,
So she shall partake in the mimicry, fretting
That her offering will suffer ridicule in his regard
And fear that she is making a tower out of a toothpick house.