segunda-feira, 31 de março de 2025

The Owl, the Hermit and slurpy grins

 Peeled back the layers of human skin
I inhabit the walking person as it makes its way to work
I spit against it's will and cackle like a brain freeze for it
I inhabit it deep within flourishing through it's short life

Then I fly off shattering peace as the midnight owl
Provocative and nonchalent
The world in my mouth
The rat blood drips across the wee hours

the beak strips you naked a violin bends you
The violence lasts longer than the instant
The spirit within the spirit is me
Peeping out of predawn wartorn backdraughts

diving into the next thoughtless pedestrian
Ambling home from the simulated expedient
Sweat and stress robbing it's brow
It's movements I now manipulate

I've grown into the folly of this one
slurping at the night with grin and cheap straw
The gut says it's vitals are juicy
the stars are teeth the blackness mouth screaming in vain

Steps up to this impossible stage host celebrity scientists
To disect this happenchance piece of flesh
Breathing eating and drinking
To the beat of Some cosmic giant on the goatskin

The shy moon accumulated cloud to dress it
Owl eyes voyeuristic in the existing light
Slurping them of it and exposing it naked
grinding the air and the stratosphere

Until it launches me off earth
Into the middle of pale bliss
Illegal and immoral the hermit once excluded
now hobbling and slithering toward the village

As I the owl into the moon
To consume it all to live through it
To violate it's senses dominate it's reflection
Radiate my own abstract whims from within it

The hermit turns back toward his cavern in the hills
the village in flames to echo the son of the day
To rock the embers with falling rafters
The lost owl observing throwing dawn down on foreign laughter

paths of destruction threading through needles
that stitch the land in upward curve silent smile
Once delicate lullaby uttered on mother's tongues
massage slumber where infants dwell

now the flames and sparks call screams and yells
The eastern necklace black down until the chaotic red
Owl picks up fearful scurry once prey is on the run
getting those power wings to knock down castles 

The fear of the Hermit, fear of the night eyes
the stars are teeth mercy lost the serpent tongue
A politician plugged in to ride the sting
puffed up chest falsities crowd the lungs

To immigrate on the voice settling in your ears
Flying yet from up high I can still hear
each of you being infected by an opinion
we distilled in lies your slurpy grins are certain 


Grisly beast

I have found myself forming into the mold
You maybe surprised to see the grisly beast
struggling to escape from inside me
it has not been calmed nor passified

the years die like soldiers inside it's aim
each shot felling another
the whistling bullets freer than I will ever be
Riding through months till they hit december

Days and hours are blood in this mixture
between the divine and the physical realm
In the old vain stale and slow running
will the grisly beast keep it fresh in me

I will not ask these questions
But let the beast on the leash
Just tow it's master into a new decade
where he can dress and meet and speak

and hide under the flesh infront of the waiters
the millions of waiters
at the afterlife bus stop
one where they decided paradise is near after

that their little experiment has granted them bliss
If there was an angel to laugh itself to death
This described would be the punchline

Let the grisly beast growl and moan
Until age and silence dominate us
pushing us closer to a hole in the ground
where finally one may rot in peace 

Torto e Careca

 Torto e careca

O assento rangeu
O homem em cima zombou
as expressões dos outros quase não leu
as palavras dele nos seus ouvidos cozinhou

Ele criou um reino falso de tempos bonitos
enfeitou o ar com cada exagero que descreveu
Com cada adjetivo dourado que tombou
Tanto ênfase que a boca dele deu

Com o balbucio lúcido de um velho
Comemorando um passado que não aconteceu


quinta-feira, 27 de março de 2025

The celebration of life

 Your hand outstretched
Light hits cheek and forehead
The day is not bright
Hark the light thrown is hefty

Eyes of promise
a smile of welcome
One day my errors ditched
Telling them away

No err
No shame
No death
All blessed

Eyes of virtue
invitaton of kindness
One ridding my mistakes
Chanting them down

Your hand outstretched
Absorbed by the day you made real
A peaceful yet brutal fight
Hark the faithless run shifty

Insight countdown

 wear


get


see


sweat...


And what do you think you accomplished


grey jacket


late arrival


empty smile


shiver


Who have you become


Glance


reach


possess


dream


Lets wind you back to zero

Ice slays

 Swiftness of death stopping woodpeckers knock
We aghast breathless can only observe in shock
The blizzard opens the wood then closes and locks
Winter wind bounces among the boughs it rocks

Fighting so hard for a survival pending 
A river half frozen it's water's empty

The freeze bears down before the digits point midnight
Life source still under ice awaits spring's full might
The last of death offered to the northern lights

quarta-feira, 26 de março de 2025

Terror before spring

 Oh the frozen valley between
 the snow weighted evergreens
Conifers that nest the stubborn crow
The expanses over the gray high and low

It scares the sullen heart from under
That might call home in the summer
The tragic end to many who enter on a whim
Never to surface and embrace living again

A life like grin scribbled on a snowman
The wendigo present is seen by no man
Hunger of a hundred ghosts cursed by mammon 
Into one infected animal plagued by cold and famine

It's true purpose is to devour alone
It's screech and its cracking bones
moving like a long limbed Phantom bird
Violence in it's alarming grim call heard

Dark disorientation falls in the thick of wilderness
something assembles itself out of nothingness
reaches through branches and logs with persistance 
seething in sinister animation subsistence

Seeking whatever living things still occupy
Or hide within the exhausted forested floor
the dark mess abandoned to the frozen silence
Energy of greed consumption in violence

It hunts at night trespassing on the holy
Gaunt staring into spring losing it's form slowly
Unable to bear the next season swallowed by the thaw
The warmth once desired doesn't sustain it anymore

 

terça-feira, 25 de março de 2025

Above the canopy

 I looked up at the Canopy and cried father sky
Sky father so far from the undervalued earth
owner of futures none may see
bringer of the storms and tranquilities

The boughs of the trees holding it all up
The grey sky ready to weep again
Father sky do you see your small son
ambling with his mut

lost in these grand thoughts
Wanting to know you through
That life might manifest on a higher level
open my eyes my own eyes

Let them see far from these canopies
far from these mountains
yet let them stay here
To greet pristine mornings

you yourself colluded in creating
Father sky this year giving just enough rain
to keep all of this green
To stack the trees with snacks

So the simple man may pick
and celebrate long lost rites of simple survival
That this be the rudimentary prayer for the day
That it be blessed and transferred to the piece of me

The piece of me that wants to walk into tomorrow
with the same optimism as today


Kieran and fields of violence

 Three years of school left
Racing through that time
Destiny is dumb and deaf
No use loooking for a sign

Be the Rugby player at his best
diving into it one scrum at a time now
Coming out strength after strength
Holding the catcher in the line out

Into the first fifteen force in your quest
Propping up the team staunch and stout
Leaving the opposition often bereft
Declare hoorahs in hellish shouts

Push scrummage forward until the other side's spent
close enough so the try line is found
Hard and aggressive til their forwards repent
To fight like an Anzac for every inch of ground

Lay it and claim life's course
Undaunted toward it tirelessly
Through fifteen years of force
Break the walls on the field of violence


segunda-feira, 24 de março de 2025

The figueira beach bar

 all the younger teens congregated there
outside the beach bar
where the best music would play
A generation of youth

a drop of culture and a few thousand liters of beauty
mimic into sensual gestures 
The ones people oggle
swoon over

yeah imitate those ones
Turn up the heat 
sweet stick of lip balm 
dealing the sticky glistening

summer not gone
last weeks still tight and inviting
short dresses overpromise
The sand and the artificial lake

the trends come and go
the pinings and the longings
that weigh young hearts down
causing them to sink into trouble

Like the very tall mango tree laiden by December
ripening like hot coals forming in a fire
the weight of the sweetness too much to bear
And for the excess rot and nothing else

No bite size entertainment
whiskey and cocaine gets smuggled in
conventional organisms
predictable effects

games and games
To be played through love
through work and what's left of existence
Yet for the moment relax on the sand

the sunsets and in a group 
you'll massage egos with dexterity
changing the expression on young faces
dimples beauty reflecting harder than the clear water

Autumn was just a myth
and summer was over reaching so nicely
The water and breeze continued warm
inviting copying the prior weekends

Mimicking them as you do your peers
freedom play with freedom ball
A freaky tardis that you toss around and admire
yet you are unable to enter

And out here you've collected the clauses
from the book of law like tatoos inside the brain
falsify your feelings for the group
The bar isn't serving alcohol

Someone has a flask so what a treat
An illusion of rebellion
An exciting emptiness
left over from inebriation

you can belong with the beautiful people
sucking up the last of those harder rays
almost getting a burn
envy flux and apathy cream

I know you obsess of the same shared dream
frivilous useless luxury
flaunted and stained and flaunted some more
with such a demand

So few can have it
and watch how they show it
And wonder how the superstition of crime
has come to roost upon the land

So drink your last swig at the figueira beach bar
with your click and siblings bubbly and mimicking
keep all those gestures out and commit those dance moves
Over the curves and tan lines oh

over the plastic surgery
the piece of yourself that never was
The illumination of the quasi medievil church
Lit up like cheap mcdonalds

Getting to the ice in your glass
you travel in your mind to Miami
With some special identity
some privilege unmentioned

with your poor story packed away 
and ready to tell next to the bag of drugs
and a receipt for your plastic surgery
Put yourself on display

The decades ahead meaningless
in the pool of youth and thick lies
stealing a cigarette, stealing friends
stealing test answers and hearts along the way

Led astray by an imaginary picture of the world
the temporary things you thought would last
You saw them leave totally disappear
still believing those fleeting moments would return

Begging them to come again as they fade
like the sun behind the mountain at the end of the day
dulling the lake and welcoming mosquitoes
Will you put your drink down and call your parents

They too can't save you raving in their own version
of random convenient facts that comfort us in this commotion
Your friends pile into the car and leave figuera beach bar
The lip balm falls between the seats and you can't reach it

At home a decade later you reach down and find it
But it didn't wake you from your living slumber
your juggling of the freedom balls
without entry

feeling exclusive and unique
In the majority who fudge out the same opinions
In a group of people who live for one false thought
out of millions that many groups cling to

Each forgetting their beach bar years
and the lessons that might prevent their current blindness
Zombies are grown in such unquestioning routines
searching for their own brain and quick strong drink

to dim down their IQ 

Jesus pressed a button

 Jesus pressed a button
And it all began again
Life surged a new
forests and grasslands grew

seasons tackled the skies and lands
animals bred and moved
till the whole mess swarmed 
abundance in the veins of the earth

thick and rich
eternities of satisfaction
Jesus pressed the button 
filling me with life once more

I was nothing in the dip of the blue
remnant of a small island colony
I've rolled and crawled through 
seasons bleak trust and faith crushed

flavor still strong
vein of God feeding my brain
Jesus pressed the button
I am alive today, I stand

Through lost decades of learning
hope so illusive
illusion such a norm
Destined for resignation

I can smell the scent of a new era
Behind color and false grandness
Jesus dragged my carcass
with a drop of ocean water stood me on the sand

Now I walk where he walks 
the land grows where we go
faith is not served in a measuring cup
This one I drink from never empty

  I walked into the future
I've gone hiking into the past
These rolling hills that were once desolate
Now give millenias of harvest

domingo, 23 de março de 2025

Sleeping in

 She rolled over in bed
SHe said what time are they switching
The lights blinked and sunday morning
splashed all over the room

She got up to open the windows
the doors and the curtains
The perfume of her 
a wave down the corridor

hitting the stairs and swallowing the first floor
Washing it all up and out
Her brother and sister in law
Threw off the sheets icing off the cake

The morning turntable
revolved back around 
the second version said
when are they due here

Our bodies could not contain
the acidic desperation
so eyes closed again
we fall back into the sibconscious

Snoring even with the sun out calling us
We awaken again and replay events hitherto
At this rate sunday will last longer
Breakfast and coffee made it up the stairs

literally pulled me out of my bed
fed me and slapped my lazy vagabond face

sábado, 22 de março de 2025

A father gone

 Hannibal left the world today
From the southern Island off the coast
two young men see their father off
their tears numerous each one vaild and real

precious to the loss
For gone is a kind father
One whose temperament
smooths rough flows in rambunctious hearts

Meeting old age with Silvery white
A small smile just warm enough
A guide a rock a stand up man
One whose trails of admiration

will be left in many 
in the land of the living  

The ounce of human in a hound

 Follow down little ribbons
The square tile sleeper
The midnight barker
Strange human expressions across your dogface

follow me to the gate 
using all force that springy trim legs boost with
furry hairy ordered pelt slowly moting unashamed
leaving piles of hair to accumulate across empty smooth pavers

I give you this little master ribbons
governing over the seven meters of lawn
with a quiet grace that scares nor creeeper
Nor bold and swift motion crawler

Eyes can speak a language
elaborate exactly what you want
I cannot make you human 
Tiny pupils bearing into me

emotional brown eyes everwanting
something beyond reason
There is no need for you to become human
For that is the biggest trait.

quinta-feira, 20 de março de 2025

Wear the jersey

 Everybody was dressed in yellow
everybody plugged themselves into the mega screen
share the same emotion slow flowing tunnel sludge
All the same all the same

conveyor belt behavior
in the wake of the hungry tide
masses and their bets and lotto
gambling themselves away

safety in numbers
numbing after the straffing
Concert bomb blown
terrorism clown predator distinct

hungry for sheep in football jerseys
Torn apart between pariah teeth
forgotten about by the stewards
magin by margin

row by row
I want to hear your applause
when you protest it's gas and bullets
Raging chaos couldn't put us down

It's dogs and truncheons
till your passified behind the mega screen
back to your betting and clapping and shouting
complacent football player fans

heros of the big nothing
the space where thought should be in your head
obedience is cultivated wear the jersey
so we can identify your blindness

your mule conformity
for without your disregard
the profits can't flow
we won't be able to stack the losses on your shoulders

immanence

 We collide with life's expectations
We hit death the wall of it all
bricks those solid lost attempts at memories
crushed and gone blown out and drained away

the body lies flat the glints of recognition
summarize and exit the eyes
whatever the destination
our heart pretended it knew

Part of us fights to exist
on the concrete we are broken
smashed lungs and ribs
fractured and empty

searching for our breath
in the darkness
upon the reawakening alone
naked blue flesh in the cave

lost and cut from that life
could tears still stream
sadness manifest
you raise a new hand

it's foreign
you try to smile in the pale light
old flavors return
yet no sensations

what kind of creature are you slowly to become
what have you retrogressed into
Pale lost creature
cold in the dark

Approval at best

 Dance around the subject
beat around the bush
aligned with how things are done
train track farer

Select words
add a mouthful of flattery
sugar it down
The bosses spectacles

They inch down
exposing questioning eyes
searching a reason
for abrupt disappointment

so curry approval
iron it out
massage it in
tools and resources

shared and implemented
serfs with reaping hook
Kingdom observing labor
nodding in approval


quarta-feira, 19 de março de 2025

The grinpop dullard

 The dullard echoes back into the voices
chanting the same anthem
it has driven the crowd hoarse
yet they scream to make it worse

Complacent thought weighs
how it all appeases the once critical thought
If we tweak you in this way or that
we need you blind obedient lying flat

suppress that essential creativity from within
as if a new child in the breeze and sigh of spring
is destroyed through an emptiness a drought
where waste and envy have wrought

Silence the bold numb the soulful
assembly line pictures recopied repasted
tell us who we are among identities of a type
predictable like grinpop join political hype

Lipsinking koolade flood

Flow into the drain duplicate the brain
post deluge you've been taken along for the way
For the ride for the flood water punchline
take a gulp of the undertow lucky floatable spine

some of you swim to the surface panic apparent
then down you slip back into the rocky currents
that drag the city along for the drive
For the lift for the torrent as water rises

Few swim against it fewer even percieve
they let the direction be chosen no personal beliefs
coughed up breathless on some shopfront eave
You've got to go with the flow half drowned fully decieved

Saw where that got you
Nothing really changed except organizations
that hand you a ham sandwich of expectations
soggy dripping from the downpour brainwash pay off

Submerged in the chaos
You reach out to the one you once called freak
who built himself ship and taught himself to fix leaks
boat oar hits your head and it's underwater senseless

for the ones you followed shape and  measure consensus
create a concentrate juice then serve it under sweet pretences
you got a cup right now sticky syrup gushing out
Filling the streets and roads flushing out

Inundating the city with koolade from the castle moat
you've taken a swig a barrel now you float
as it takes you in the direction that serves the pourer
unquestioning and docile stained tongue adorer

we will see you emulate the strokes
repeat the slangs the moves still soaked
drown in the fashion following the furrowed path
In groups of rebel irony lipsunk and choreographed

Layers of time

 There is a layer upon a layer on a man that becomes something
His earlier years past lives almost inaccessible
There's a layer between each milestone
The allowing through only those painful lessons

That light up like a red emergency button
allowing the memory to flow in like blood
A layer of tense regret and a promise
To never repeat the cause of such again

There's a layer in the day
Between the morning and afternoon cake
the inner icing sometimes sugar
sometimes concrete

there's a layer in my words
That try to limit what I want to say
Can I break it with a metaphor
won't it just reform

As settle into the next 
solid sedement piling and settling
What will be of me
Just layers of words

Sentences that declare meaning
just boundaries between regions
Of an overcrowded mind
That decorate the margins

of life through these eyes 

segunda-feira, 17 de março de 2025

The ghost afront

 Grey hair covers the person who laughed
who bragged and raved how do
we'll never know ourselves
you made it through the stages
pretending the thing you thought you were

Laughing is painful cracks like a whip
it echoes again like there's shelter from it on the world
Age battles us all a souvenir year to the nostalgic
Snow globes and keyrings to a decorative burial

Beauty and ceremony grief and pomp
Prides fat layer of inner lethargy
only escaping with the ingestion of grog
obsessions make us all thick and liquidy like cake icing

When the ghost looks at you
fright and inquisition
Appropriate fearful workholic
Open up and ask

What kind of myth am I
what animal in the wild
what vibe do I radiate at all
Am I the lost the pariah

the outcast rebel adventurer
the damned eternal
The mess left for others
The ouija board shuffle

these thousand staircases
these towers of status
give me an ounce of snity
as I float in your reflection

night  breathed in through window
Make our way mouth by mouth
to the tenth story death
test the dragon of the heart

ask its secrets ruthless
Let it avoid truth
point you to the feckless
you strove for each clue

The old blind to youth,
the youth sees the old
ignorance is a choice
where's the wisdom 
beyond the appearance

ask the question
that freezes blood
that burns skin
accumulated in heart and mind

that is the tick in your face or your wrist
ask the question it is the raven
it must be free in those dry skies
which will soon be filled with cloud born morners

the mirror shows you nothing
Yet a centimeter of you is fossilized
A potential clone
to follow a similar trajectory

The copy is not a meaning
just another attempt to manifest
pouring through to the material
randomly reinventing

To grin and tolerate other's grins
To climb the tower stairwell often blinded
by the lights and darknesses
the shock of contrasts

the untouchable secrets of the heart
The intangible deathnote written on the air of grief
The last pats on the back
The rhythmic sobbing the drumdrop of tears

The blindness to the past
A mixed tape of liquidy cake icing
Oversweetened and miguiding
Far from the reality of this ghost that stands infront of you

John's last lunch in the roundhouse

 Looking up at the twenty meter tall wooden design gate with winglike structures at the entry to the retirement center. Days were long and sunny that autumn which gave the false impression that everything was ok for Joe the son of Veronica and John.
Veronica and John were his parents living in a three story house inside a retirement condominium In Waikanae a small town in New Zealand. 

Joe stood outside the house not one hundred meters from the main gate. Watching the impact of the wind on the great wooden wing mural over the entrance.
"You know one day the wind is going to blow that straight into your house Mom."
She didn't comment. Joe only came around every few years, he lived far away, so every comment he made on anything not up to his personal standards, made his words come out sounding false as he spoke them.


He walked into the round tower like structure of the house.
"Mom I haven't even seen the third level of the house, can I go up and check it out?"
"Umm your Dad is actually still sleeping up there, he'll be up soon, you can say hello."
"I'll be quiet I promise."
About to climb the stairs he looked back down at his mother's face, from beside her appeared John.
"Dads already up" He said and came rushing down the stairs to see his father.

The three of them walked out into the sunshine together.
Joe hugged his father "How are you doing?" he asked
"I don't have long, Joe but I'm ok." he whispered sadly
"John you should probably lie back down, get some rest." Veronica said concerned.
"I'll get some rest when I'm dead" John disregarded stoically

Joe took John to the local vehicle show. Where people were buying and selling and exhibiting the thing that John liked most, vehicles. After querying a few classic car owners John hopped on a motorcycle and took off. He came back a few minutes later looking quite happy in himself.
The two of them took a ride in a new sports car with a very wide strange front.
John interviewed them all. "what make and model is this?"
"Where was this made?"
Joe could only guess when he was young cars were much simpler.

They got back in the car and made their way back to the retirement condo.
"Dad are you going to die soon?"
"Yeah I'm not very well, son"
On the drive they passed a few of the monuments they had seen for most of their lives in Waikanae.
Things that illicted some slight feeling each one an anchor into the small town reality.
Nostalgia a heaven, a neverending bath in the past, just hot enough to warm the heart.
Yet the familiarity of it was Hell, one that Joe couldn't stomach.
The town was composed of dozens of roundabouts that gave the impression one could simply drive around one forever or until the gasoline ran out at least.
Each piece of news John shared seemed like a miracle, a new painting on an impossible canvas.
Joe was interested. But felt like he was watching a t.v screen from many meters away. Or watching a play from the backrows.

As they got into the condo, lunch was on the table.
They spoke of family friends and Joe's current projects and aspirations.
The afternoon sun was never this hot for an April in Waikanae.
Most of the windows of the house capturing the sun at some point of the day.
John struggled out of hs chair and excused himself.
"John don't you want help to get up the stairs?"
"No I'll be fine" John said effortfully.

"Dad you've changed so much" Joe commented.
"How you do you mean" As john made his way up the spiral staircase to the third floor.
"You don't talk about politics anymore." Joe commented
"I try not to speak ill of anyone anymore." John said
Joe walked back down to join his mother.
Joe thought to himself.

 "My father was well spoken as a young entrepeneur. Over the years he became blunt and uncaring of others opinions. Now he watches what he says to people." Joe commented.
"He's a lot easier to live with" Veronica said in a pleasant way.

A human tendency or the circe of life.
From dependent children, to dependable adults hopefully, to dependent eldery once again.
From making noises out of baby mouths, to learning to speak as children, then losing all cognition to speak as our brain fails us.

The very beginning and end seem to be completely incoherent, only the middle makes any sense. Possible plugs from the before to the after, a circle within a circle.



domingo, 16 de março de 2025

Locked out

 She is eager and unoppressed
elaborating intimate chapters
Reinventing hundreds of dreamlike moments
Soothing the most emaciated soul

Speaking through the sunset.
 Recounting her life of love and deviation
Men's ears feel naked and unprotected
 without bragging mouths to validate them

Her face and body glisten
 as thick humidity sinks in
 reflecting aggressive orange tones
That close the circle

Millions of witnesses 
attempt to peer into the foggy glass
Wanting to be changed by the sunset
to be part of the sacred circle


How they pine to absorb it all
as if returning to the most splendid home
remote yet abundant cozy yet in order
only to find they have misplaced the keys

Locked out part 3

 The lawyer adjusts his suit and drops his key
The door won't lock and each time he gets the key to the lock
his slippery hands lose grip on the key
Then fall and he must bend to pick them up again

each occasion requiring him to adjust his suit
expletives now rule his voice box
All other expression has been boycotted
He attempts one last time it locks

He carefully navigates the steps downward
The distant sound of folk music pinches his ear
As he gets down to the main street he sees
dozens of enthusiastic dancers dressed in white

Using the pavement and road to prance
step twirl and shimmy with gleeful purpose
He avoids it all and heads straight for the circle of youth
Arriving just on time as the defendent was sitting down

He sat next to the beautiful plantiff who dressed in morning
Even though it was the end of the day
He asked him directly if he had infact interferred with her
He nodded without speaking eyes uncaring

boiling orange sunset reflecting of his colorless face
The plantiff interrupted and swore that she had welcomed it
The lawyer's body hardened as the sunset soaked into everyone
A stationary object now just waiting for the homage plaque

Unable to remove his own soul from the circle
living out the trial in the hot wet waves
of a never ending sunset
Illusions of control



Locked out part 2

 The drug dealer fails to lock his house
He fumbles the key again and again
The mossy steps down to the village
make it dangerous as he carefully steps down

The music starts to play
a multitude of men an women in traditional dress
make their way to the village center dancing
Their white gowns and long socks brew medievil

He sees the Junkie in a circle of youth
he is sat next to the dawn princess many admire 
Sat above the town square absorbing the sunset's last light
He eavesdrops shamefully from nearby

The junkie makes claim to having slept with the girl
The circle briefly flinches the Junkie blasé
The dawn princess admits it openly
saliva in her voice surrendering to the sunset

The drug dealer leaves for town dissuaded
Worrying of his house being left unlocked
Slightly nauseated by the humid sunset
The symmetry of the circle too much

Locked out part 1

  Attempted escape
the t.v screen a blurr
Be the negligence
Be the free for all at pub night end

Beginning was never easy
Leave the house
The key is rusted and barely fits the lock
Struggle to turn the key

The night sky blinks yellow then dark then yellow
Turn the key it won't lock
Unable to leave the house open
Turn the key again finally click

Searching for a distraction from existence
The antique modern dancing show is starting
Come across that weaker friend from school days
And the Muse who left so many beguiled

Sitting in a circle where it all began
where Gifts were distributed before life
each one in their perfect position
The muse and the weakling exposed to the last rays of the sun

The weak one nodds his head confident
It must be a trick for pure kicks
He implies her first kiss was his
She confirms as sunset sweat cover them

Yellow and orange and temporarily tropical
intangible changing morphing
Playing fantasizing decieving
A sunset controlled by the circle

It comes over us like liquid gold
as she speaks from wet lips boasting 
The grey weakling satisfied unreadable face
He is the t.v screen a blurr

Leave the circle in relief
You are the attempted escape
a shell remains in their little circle
eternal celebration duty

Hard unforgiving streets
Locked doors
dancing the only art
outlawing curiousity



Cinzas graxa e café

 

Vinte e cinco camadas de gordura se acumularam
 Está manchado como o jeito de viver folheado a ouro falso
Ocioso e sorrindo, sem suor
Cinco milímetros de cinza pendendo do cigarro

Cabelos castanhos sujos, emaranhados com cobras cinzentas imundas
Sob o sol antes do meio-dia, tão felizes quanto sortudos
Petiscos locais meio emergindo de sacos de papel oleosos
Um súbito tremor de desejo agita uma piada quase presunçosa

Outra explosão de riso quando o caminhão do cliente aparece
Encostando e reduzindo a marcha para um reparo
A cinza cai e os olhos se levantam ao som
Os sorrisos ociosos se curvam novamente

Fechando os macacões encharcados de fuligem – hora de trabalhar, receio
O fim do dia ainda está a um ano de distância
De volta às sombras da oficina
Cafeteira no último gole escuro

Um súbito tremor de desejo de soltar uma piada
Mas logo se dissipa quando o cliente mostra o que está quebrado

quinta-feira, 13 de março de 2025

Mask of sanity

 Below the backyard of their house
some in this life invent success
lord it over the floor, over the fence
over our flaws through every door

That grass was uncut
sheep were eating it down
Farmer only there to catch people trespassing
a farm of broken tractors misguided prideful intention

Can we sense the smell of the cauldron of perfection?
The sheep of obedience forced into the zero sum
Jarring the gates with the last of their humanity
You are composed of two iron lengths

Railway tracks to move upon
the persona and the shadow
Breach your own fence
Far from boundaries

tickling someone else's comfort zone
the psychopath awakens from somewhere
Lifting the crypt from that last life
Rising to impress it's creator

sing for it's supper blade cliche play
Elder eyes ignore and fading hair greys 
Never wanting to see your success
The spotlight was broken 

Pleasure's straw allows sweeter liquid
when plugged into the prideful narcissist
From womb the sucessor progeny victorious
from garage impeccable classic every box on the list

Humility has a poor Locum
wreaking of everything you lack
when you get it together let him know
so he can chalk it up to his influence infact

  

Lazy bug

 It's hidden in me that lazy button, that should not exist
It distills me then I drink myself 
Drunken hold dizzy with boldness
Hopeless with food slipping into gluttony

As if the table were angled
to slide the feast down into the mouth
What kind of man becomes this?
This end should not have been reached

Sofa sinks another inch the expanse of fat rests comfortably
Screens feed those tired needy eyes
Knee creaks under the weight of over fed body
Body struggles to even get verticle

Noble causes as sugar and salt
Age and lazy nights
sloppy oven
sunlight and exercise shut out

The cool shade of the house
Lulls us forcibly a phantom sedative
As the fast world blares and rolls from outside
Hidden wheels on the thing

Tracing my body I can't find it
that hidden draining bug inside an organ
Heavy hungry dull and bleeting
ever taxing ever feeding

Flight of the clerk

 Life is an aeroplane coined the bored clerk
Tatoos from waist to forehead
So when is it going to take off silly
The voyage he eloquently said
is a ride inside your wacky head

family flight all eyes and life
the stalk a graceful symbol of peace and fertility
The crib the illusion of safety sing me sweetly to sleep
from birth to death on your harp of a mouth

The clerk adjusted a packet of junk food
Fat t.v fingers seeking the corners
big cheek grin

Feelings take off you can see the beautiful ciy from here
The soup of intuition as you penetrate the clouds
The soft compassion of the sunset approaching bliss
Emotional jet stream

Choreographed hostesses with prepackaged existences
handing them out like actors 
Superhuman balance as the turbulence makes them work
life certainly guarantees that says the clerk

The legend of

 Monday morning in Appleton Wisconsin, a street connecting the city to the majestic Bubolz nature preserve.
An Airedale terrier named socks boosted out of the front screen door that summer morning. Ben Felder a brown haired, energetic boy of fourteen sprinted after him. Clattering down the steps. Socks had jumped down without touching any of the six wooden steps to the lawn.
"Socks stop, stop slow down." The dog kept sprinting through the grass, making those pattering sounds and flicking up grass as the creature moved.
So Ben did the same, almost in a panic. His family had just finished unpacking the previous evening. For Ben it wasn't a big deal as he was still in the same region as his local school. And now it was the school holidays. The two story stately house and expansive garden would be foreign to the terrier socks. 
"Ben we have to get off to work now, please keep Socks indoors for today until he gets used to the place." 
His mother's words slapped him at the back of the neck now, as he sprinted after socks.

A healthy anger brewing up from his throat, as he could feel the dog was getting some form of satisfaction at having broken out the same moment Ben attempted opening the back door to investigate the garden.
The same garden which was now whizzing by as he raced after Socks. Ben had always been quite athletic at school and was able to keep up with his dog's pace, although he couldn't gain ground on him. The awkward looking two and a half year old Airedale terrier was very nimble, when he wanted to chase something or even just escape, there was no outpacing him.


Socks threw himself into a gap in a low Abelia hedge, Ben had to jump over it, getting poked right under the knee, in almost the worst place possible.
"Ahhhhhh no lunch for you, stupid dog... stop slow down... come here!"
Ignoring completely, Socks dove through the square weave galvonized fences dividing his family's section. Ben knew this would get him into a lot of trouble, especially on the first day in the new house.


"Yeeeelp."This dog could really howl. Accidentally catching some of his wooly hair in a piece of protruding wire.
He was stuck, looked a lot like a trapped rabbit as he lay kicking between the fence and the ground. Ben caught up to him, and grinned.
"So this is what you get, maybe next time you'll obey, or not try to run away at all.''
Ben's glee at socks getting caught in the fence was quickly replaced by concern.
"Are you ok boy?" Ben approached and checked his body for injury. 
The dog looked to be completely stuck, Ben changed his position looking over the other side of the fence to see which way he would be able pull or push the dog to get him out. 

Ben climbed over the fence into what looked to be sparse forest that deepened further in. Ben was curious about the forest itself, part of him actually wanted to be there. He liked plants and trees, though he was really interested in animals, thats why he had such a connection with his dog socks, albeit the dog was certainly testing the relationship today.  The way the dog was stuck it was only practical to pull him out on the other side of the fence. Kneeling down he was able to pull socks forward an inch, using all of his focus. His head suddenly jarred as he heard a sinister noise coming from a tree 10 meters off.
"What the hell?" he looked around.


As his eyes identified the large brown Owl in an Aspen tree, Socks wriggled free from the fence and took off running again, only stopping a hundred meters ahead to drink from a small creek.
Ben looked back at the owl, had this bird been an accomplice in making my life a nightmare. The mysterious shape of the owl's head fascinated him.
What was this animal doing out in the early hours of the morning? Ben puzzled, wasn't this a night predator?
He continued running after socks when his brain videoplayed several versions of punishing words his parents would give him for losing the dog. Ben was more afraid of losing the good company socks often was to him personally.

The creek was only ten centimeters deep and a meter across, the crystal clear water was made questionable with the decomposed leaf matter in the creek bed itself. The dog was no doubt picking up some of that with it's tongue as it lapped aggressively at the water.
The forest noise which was not obvious until this moment had stopped as Ben got within three meters of socks. A deep silence Ben's panicked mind hadn't adjusted to. This was it, he would grab socks by the collar and pick him up in his arms.
But as the forest had gone completely quiet each footfall Ben made was audible, the dog turned before Ben could get within a meter, Jumped the creek in one bound and continued deeper into the forest. Ben stopped in his tracks, Was the forest quietly observing his antics with Socks?

Ben looked around again. "This place is working against me! Evil forest" He complained a loud.
Then as if a big joke the forest leapt back into full noise with crickets, cicadas, frogs and song birds. Now he realized how loud the forest had actually been, the difference was spooky.
He cursed a loud again, jumped the creek and sped after the dog.

The forest thinned out in some places and thickened in others as Ben jogged after socks, close, only five meters away, socks had slowed slightly as if looking for something.
The forest changed from being composed of white barked aspens and maples with a spongy forest floor randomly spotted with ground ferns. To evergreen pine with a pine needle floor and areas of thick shrubs that thrived in the shade. The pines presented large spacious areas like large rooms or halls in a house.  Ahead of Ben lay a hill that rose up twenty meters.
Ben ran up the small hill, the sun lit up the top of it. Ben had time to think about what an excellent place to bring friends to hang out, the grass was like a cushion, Abundant patches of blueberries and red currents clung to the periphery and slope of the hill. He'd have stopped and filled his pockets if not for the chase.

He got to the top of the small hill just to see socks crouching in the grass with his back to Ben. 
"Got you" Ben let out the satisfied breath of relief.
Socks didn't flinch. Letting himself be held in Ben's arms.
Then sam sat down into the grass as if to make himself small.
Something was standing between some pine trees down the other side of the hill.
No undergrowth, just reddish needles making up the forest floor. The figure whatever it was stuck out and looked completely artificial in the natural surroundings.
"What's that boy?" He whispered to socks to seek courage.
The figure about the same height as Ben but fatter, it had greyish skin.

Ben couldn't see a head or eyes so he decided to reposition behind a tree on the hill to get get another angle. Making sure the whole time to not make any noise.
He stared down at the man like figure. But he couldnt make out a face.
Whatever it was it didn't move. 
He took Sam by the collar to go back home. This is not something I want to waste my time on.
The forest went dead quiet again, and the dog pulled against Ben to go back to the figure.
Gritting his teeth in frustration he loosened his grip slightly on the dog and went back to the tree, the thing hadn't moved. Was it living?

He suddenly realized it was probably just a tall rock, but he'd need to test his theory. So after failing to find any stones he got himself a stick heavy enough to throw near the thing, to see if it was actually a living thing.
It was scary because as the forest had gone dead silent even the hard swing of his arm would make some noise, potentially giving away his position.
He threw it. It landed very near the figure. Nothing. No flinching, no response.
This was stupid, he led socks who was keen to investigate down the hill, the shape of the figure looked more and more rock like. As he walked around the figure from about fifteen meters away, a sense of dread swollowed him whole. 
It had a face.

As he walked he fell forwards as the sight of the face stole his focus, distracting him from a log just big enough to trip him. As he impacted the ground the forest lit up with noise again. It was like a stupid comedy where they record an audiences applause, that the actors are somehow unbeknownst to.
Ben was very aware however, it was surreal and disturbing. especially the sinister timing of it.
However socks looked back sympathetically and didn't seem to be running anymore, and the thing with a face wasn't alive it was frozen. He got up approached and put his hand across his eyes briefly.
"It's a statue socks, but what the hell is it doing all the way out here."

Ben examined the stone figure. It had human features yet the ears and nose looked like that of a deer.
The figure was pointing in the opposite direction of his house  as if ushering the way.
"Socks come." Ben ordered. As he turned and walked back up the hill from whence he came. He looked back not expecting to see the dog following, to his amusement socks was finally obeying.
"Good boy."  He said, as Socks joined him walking up the hill.

Now that's it he thought. I'm going to carry as much of these berries home as I can, he thought.
He used his pockets, cap scooping up all the berries he could then followed the way he came back to his house. Socks not causing any comotion on the way.
That night he showed his parents, the bounty of berries he had collected.
"Nice one Ben, but where did you get them?" His mother inquired.
"I jumped over the fence they aren't far away inside the forest."
"What about socks?" she continued.
"Oh he stayed inside the house" Ben lied about the whole chase.
"Well did you take him outside to play."his father said
 "Sure" Ben could say relieved that his response was closer to the truth.
His parents tasted a few of the berries at first pretending to like them, before realizing they were as good store bought and gobbled them down.
"Look Ben, if you go back over the boundary please be careful. That forest connects onto the national park, you can easily get lost."
Ben finished the pointless conversation with his parents, exchange I love you's and went up to bed.

The next day Ben took off into the woods. This time he left Socks tied up in the yard. Packed some food, a lighter, a small swiss army knife and a piece of rope.
 He jumped the fence, looked around at the trees to see the owl. Nothing.
Something caught his eye further into the woods, a brown red furr and gone in a split second.
He reached the creek and saw it's paw prints in the semi hardened mud.
It excited him to be in a place with so many different creatures. in the town he had only seen rabbits and in the water ways the odd turtle.
He jumped the creek and headed toward the hill again. The berries were ripening and this time he had brought a big bag to put them in.
Greedily his hands worked like they were automated picking and placing as fast as he could.
He heard a soft crunching sound coming from the other side of the hill. The sensation of cold liquid being poured down his back made him shiver.

He crept like it was a life or death situation. Making it to the top edge of the hill looking down on the strange statue again.
Munching on a few sprigs of grass growing in a patch of dappled light ten meters from the statue was a deer. No common deer, a piebald. That is a deer of two colors an almost albino white and a dark grey.
Ben had a feeling it might be rare.
It looked up but not in Bens direction, it looked at the statue.
It started to approach the statue and looked up at the face. Ben gritted his teeth. what the hell is going on. The way the deer was looking at the statue it looked like a conversation.
Then as if someone had come and shaken Ben's whole body the statue moved it's head ever so slightly.
He felt his arms and legs freeze up. He shut his eyes briefly.
The fright of it made him want to cry, he tried to imagine that he was part of the ground and not a thinking feeling adolescent at all.

He peeped over the grass once more the deer was still looking up the statue seemed to be as stationary as it had been before he saw it move.
The deer slowly moved westward between the hill and some thick ground shrubs. His house was eastward. 
He slipped down the west side of the hill and followed the deer westward taking note of all of visible landmarks.
The deer walked at an even pace that Ben could easily follow.
He passed huge berry bushes and thick evergreens that were almost impenetrable.
Ben wondered if the deer knew it was being followed. It seemed to express no fear at all as it sauntered into a shady valley. The forest floor was gloomy.
He followed the deer a long a dried up river bank that scarred the low point of the valley floor, climbing at a dead end to the valley like a path to someone's house.

As the he followed the deer up the rise a small cave entrance came into view.
"what the hell is this deer doing now?" The deer had continued and simply disappeared into the cave.
He felt that slight pain of shock in his arms and legs again from when that scary statue had moved.
"What am I doing here, I am far from home now. I should be making my way home."
His brain rationalized that if the  deer entered the cave it must be quite safe. He had a lighter and his swiss army knife, maybe he could go in. Just for a quick look then go back home picking up some of those sweet berries on the way back.

Ben investigated the entrance before taking his first steps into the cave. The celing wasn't much higher than his head and an adult would probably have to duck down to get inside.
He clicked the lighter five meters into the cave, illuminating the cave infront of him.
After about twenty meters in, the cave opened up into larger space about three meters high. A round  room with strange drawings stained and etched into the cave wall.
He approached and gasped at weird and very lifelike designs of humans standing beside animals. As Ben checked the whole space it suddenly dawned on him that the room was a dead end.
So where the was the deer? How had it disappeared in here.

He gave his thumb a rest from holding the gas switch on the lighter. The darkness bothered him a lot, especially with the vanishing deer. I'll go back home I thought what am I doing in here anyway. Following some half grey albino deer?
But he knew there was a reason he was here. The interaction between the deer and the statue. The strange communication that manifested.

In the dark silence he became aware of a subtle breeze with him inside the cave. He flicked the lighter on and followed the flow of it back to a depiction of an animal that looked half human. A cross between a wolf and a man.
Although he had already browsed he inched closer to check the details of the image. He lost his footing and felt himself sliding down. He realized there was an opening between the cave wall and the floor.
He reached nothing to grab onto. He was sliding quickly meters under, suddenly images of the statue flashed in his head. Ben had an all consuming fear of what he might land into.

Another few meters down he slid out into a chamber lit by a subtle hole in the cave wall, giving enough light to illuminate a central altar like focal point. In granite covered in small etchings of trees a small two inch blunt metallic point protruding from the top.
Ben was certainly calmed by the fact there was enough light to see now. On the other side of the chamber he could see an exit too.
Naturally a cautious boy Ben liked adventure but he hated unnecessary risk. Today had been enough the fall he took just now made him feel completely out of control. He would go home and relax with socks for the afternoon.

Ben passed through the middle brushing the altar like structure in the middle, on contact feeling an electric shock falling to his knees then continuing to walk as if it came natural.
His vision changed he could smell the deer he had seen before.
He ran for the exit not seeking home or safety, he wanted the deer, that Piebald deer.
The Piebald deer was running now the cave mouth disappeared and Ben was in the middle of the forest again, hs temples were hot and a hunger brewed inside him. 

His bag and other items were lost somewhere back at the cave. It didn't seem to matter. Or it mattered to anotehr version of Ben. He sprinted up the side of a low precipice putting his hand around a protruding root so he could look down over the valley to see where the deer had gone.
Except the hand was a paw with claws digging into wood and his eyes could much better especially in the lowlight.
He bolted back down into the valley. It felt almost like flying, the sense of control and torque from within the limbs, the hunger to rip something apart, pleasant and reassuring.
Alas no deer. 
He leapt onto a fat length of rotten log. Observing the undergrowth once again.

A small but flabby bushpig kcked out from under the log and boosted toward the cover of undergrowth. Ben's animal body launched itself  and caught the pig a few feet from what could have been an excellent escape path.
He spent what seemed like hours devouring the poor thing.
The new feeling that there was something else he needed to do, that this forest, this adventure wasn't his main concern. The lght was leaving the forest and shaded areas of the canopy were slowly becoming pitch black.
I am not an animal. But why do I have paws and fangs.

Something stirred from within the forest, is that my next meal. Suddenly fire and hunger kicked back in like a motor at high revs. Ben sprinted after it, it was a shadow, but he was pretty sure it was that deer.
He ran another hundred meters and found himself near the creek near his house.
No deer in sight.
This is insanity a voice screamed from the back of his warm satisfied mind. Go home, go home!
He jumped the creek and realized the trees looked familiar. Oh there is the fence my dog got caught in.
And now he could hear barking. He rubbed himself against the fence and peed.
Socks could see him poking his little face out of the shrubs from the boundary of the house.
In Bens mind he was shouting at Socks to stop it, so he would somehow make his way over the fence and everything would be normal.

His father appeared from behind the bushes. He could hear his mother.
"What is socks barking at?"
"AAAAAAHHHH" His father screamed.
"It's a mountain Lion on the other side of the fence"
What! A mountain lion. Is that what I am now, he thought. He took off to the hill.
Early evening was setting in, he curled up on the hill looking over the statue.
How do I get out of this one. His teenage self struggling but slowly getting more cognition into the animal he had become.

Ben's intuition let him to glance over at the statue. wasn't there something weird about the statue.
He ambled over and crouched infront of it looking up at the statue which had an open expression on it's face as if listening to a problem. And trying to understand it.
The deer features over the human face made it hard to not want to hit it.
The statues arm moved silently and touched Ben's mountain lion head.
He felt himself transforming back, looking at his fingers, checking he was still clothed. 
then suddenly glncing back at the statue which looked more sinister now in the lowlight.
It didn't move or change in any way, although the expression was different from the original expression it had, had. It had a look of I told you so. He touched it again tempting forgetting fora second it could have potentially transformed back again. It's granite shoulder was cold as ice.
It almost felt like a burn on his finger.

"Oh no I'm late for dinner, my parents are going to kill me." He sprinted over the hill and back toward the fence when something rather exquisite dawned on him. What if the statue was the piebald deer!
Looking back he felt like some strange rite had been fulfilled.
Part of the human inside him had been shaped and chemically changed by the experience of being turned. The fear he should have felt was non existant.
His parents shouted at him for atleast twenty minutes. They had called the police and the forest ranger, thankfully the search parties hadn't assmebled and were called off in time.

It was wednesday still another five days until school started. 
"Ben wake up please, come down and have breakfast with us." His mother urged.
"I am awake Mom" Pretending to be awake.
Putting on hs shorts singlet and flip flops.
"Your father wants to speak to Ben." As Ben entered the kitchen dining area.
"Ben you know we love you, I've always only had one rule for you, what is that rule? His father asked.
"You told me never to go into your office again." Ben recalled how angry his father had become.
 "That's it Ben, never go into my office. And after reporting you missing ,we can't have you running off like that, and not coming home until almost ten pm at night. We were really worried, not to mention Socks who missed lunch by the way."
Ben hung his head and apologized for the third time.
"So we were hoping you would go and spend some time with Logan, he only lives two kilometers from here."
Ben smiled. Logan and Ben had been good friends since they had started high school at twelve.
"I like that idea Mom."
"Well I've already spoken to his Mom, so after breakfast I'm going to drop you off there ok sweetie?"
Why the hell did she have to use the word sweetie?
"Oh and socks will be going with you, so let it be a lesson to take care of your pets." His father added.

As soon as Ben opened the car door to meet Logan who was standing outside his family's front door, not half as athletic as Ben. Curly black hair an inch from his hunched shoulders and pudgy form.  Socks jumped out and tried to run away again with the provocative tongue out bounding toward the base of the driveway aiming to get on the road. Probably as punishment for leaving him alone the day before. Logan sprinted around the other side of the car and they both caught Socks before he could escape.
"So you get lost in the forest yesterday...?" Logan teased.
Oh so it's town gossip now.
"What are moms for." Logan hinted as his mothers car backed out of the drive and a waving hand came out of the window.
"Byeeeee" his mother said. Ben thanked her in his head. It's a miracle she didn't use that old pet name sweetie. Ben was discovering he didn't want to be treated as a kid anymore.
Maybe Ben's mother was using it for his bad behaviour he wondered. A theory for another day perhaps.

"You wanna play some fortnight?" Logan offered.
"Sure." Ben didn't have a playstation at home, he'd usually binge play when his parents left him at his cousins, who brought him up to speed on all the new games and created an aggressive sense of competition.
Most of wednesday was just videogames and a few breaks to play with Socks in their backyard which also backed onto the Bulboz national park. As late afternoon approached Logan's curiousity got the better of him. "So what happened out there in the forest?"
"My dog ran out of the house the first day we got there, he took off into the forest. We saw some owls and other animals. But there was this weird statue." Ben explained.
"What do you mean statue?"
"A very weird statue of a dwarflike man with a strange face." Ben responded.
"Wow weird bro, makes no sense. So how did you get lost." Logan pressed.
"There was this real weird deer with white and grey on it, I wanted to follow it. But it went real far."
"Why do I get the feeling you aren't telling me everything?" Logan inquired
"Why would I lie?" Ben appealed.
"I didn't say you were lying. I just don't think you are telling the whole story, I can tell by your face. You are deciding how much to share." Ben knew Logan could read his face. He also felt like there would be some consequence to this conversation.

Back home during dinner with his parents, he could feel his parents had let go of their anger at the day before.
"How was your day at logan's?"
"Nice mom, we just played videogames."
"Did you play with socks too?" His father checked eyebrow raised.
"Yes we played with him in their backyard." Ben's tone changed to frustration.
"Why did you tell everyone I got lost. The whole neighborhood knows now."
"Probably because we were in the middle of planning a search and rescue just as you were getting back last night." His father giggled.
Ben scoffed. He knew his father cared about him, he also knew his father enjoyed these 'I told you so' moments too much.
"Whatever" An anger rose that required quite an effort to hold back now.
"You'll be at Logan's again tomorrow ok?" His mother's voice died out as Ben walked up to his room on the second floor. The anger he was feeling was almost alien. It rained heavily during the night. Ben imagined the droplets landing on the strange statue.

 The next day he slept in. Thursday. When he got downstairs there was a note on the kitchen table telling him to wait for Logan's mum to pick him up.
He hadn't finished his breakfast before the doorbell rang. It was Logan's mom.
"Socks come boy." They both got into the back seat.
"Hi Ben." She said.
"Hi" ben said shyly.
"Logan's waiting for you at home he says you guys are going to do some archery today" she said.
Archery?
She left him and Socks on a leash at the side walk to Logan's house.
"Okay now take care" in her forced caring voice.
He saw logan opening the front door of his house as Logan's mom left.

"Where's the bows and arrows genius" Ben asked Logan.
"We're not doing archery today my friend, we're going statue hunting."
There it was, like a gunshot, Ben's worst fear. He knew the conversation he had with Logan would bring trouble. If he told Logan what really happened, he'd think Ben had lost it or that he was kidding around which would only anger him further.
Logan handed a pack over to Ben. "This is yours. It's the food, look after it carefully in case we get lost." Then he cracked up laughing.
"Where are we going?" Ben now in a more serious tone.
"To find your statue." Logan replied. Logan led them out the gate and started walking in the direction of Ben's house.
Ben caught up with him and his instincts were to convince him to forget it. He could see by logan's determined face it wasn't going to happen.
They got to Ben's house in twenty minutes, he put socks back inside.
"What are you doing? Don't you want to take Socks with us?"
"Not after last time." Ben responded and Logan nodded.

The boys took a look back at the house as they climbed over the boundary fence. No owl hooting. And the forest seemed quiet. Not mysterious quiet.
"Can you help me over the fence?" Ben didn't realize how new Logan was to the outdoors, despite living nextdoor to it. Even some of his movements were clumsy.
"Becareful of the wire near the bottom, that's where socks got stuck." Ben warned
From there the boys walked to the creek which was a little wider and a little deeper than it had been. Ben took both packs and cleared the width in one long jump. Even he was amazed at the ease with which he had performed the jump with weight added to it.
Logan made the same jump with a run up and still sank his ankle into the freshly formed mud on the margin.
Ben let out a laugh. "Are you up for this bro, you know we can always go back." Logan looked up redfaced. obvously irritated.

They neared the hill approaching the berry bushes stacked with fruit. Ben watched Logan clapping and swinging at insects as he went. It had been much faster for Ben when he was with Socks even when he went on his own. It was almost like slow Logan just wasn't compatible with the forest.
"Wow Ben you didn't tell there were so many berries!" Logan dove like a maniac into the bushes picking as many as he could fit into his hand and gulped them down.
"Watch out Logan you'll get a stomach problem."
"Yeah right. you sound like your mom" He cheekily retorted.
After Logan gorged himself.
"This is the hill isn't it?" 
"Yes it is" Ben replied feeling the pinch of giving too much away.
They walked over the hill and as they came down the otherside the statue Ben had seen on both other occasions had disappeared. t jut wasn't there.
"So where is it?"
"It's not here. It was here,  mean I saw it here before." But he didn't sound convincing.
Logan looked at him then at the ground in disappointment.
"Let's just go back, this place looks safe, but its kind of dangerous." Ben said, it felt like a losing battle.
"What do you mean dangerous? Give me an example." Logan made Ben even more uneasy.
"Lets just go" Ben insisted.
"Ok" Logan said and the pair turned around and headed back.
As they got to the creek Logan dropped the packs on some tall tree roots and started jogging down the creek following the flow of it and making animal noises, running away from Ben.
Ben slowly made his way after Logan, realizing Logan really wanted to experience something different. He could hear Logan's animal noises getting fainter, so he started to increase his pace.

A scream! Ben ran down the creek quickly to come upon a very embarrased and panic striken Logan.
He was thigh deep in the soft mud of the creek edge. He was slowly sinking in further. Ben mustered all his energy to hold the smirk off his face.
"What are you waiting for pull me out!"
Ben looked up there was a branch right above logan that would allow him to pull Logan out.
He looked at the tree,
 It was an incredible Bur oak with huge surfaces of crazy mottled bark up it resembling some ancient language in squiggles. The branches looked infact like arms. Ben felt a comfort at it's presence.
He leaned down to get take logan's hand, with the other he grabbed the branch of the tree.

"Ben... Ben... Ben..." Ben flinched Logan was panting like a woman in labor and couldn't say anything.
 IT WAS THE TREE.
Ben almost forgot Logan.
"What do you want?"
"I will help you save your little friend" The tree communicated.
"Why was I transformed into that animal?" Ben questioned.
"To bind you to the land spirit." The tree communicated
"What is that?" Ben asked.
"Courage... courage... courage." The tree communicated

"Ben stop talking to the tree and help me out of here."
"Sorry" Ben said pulling Logan out creating two great holes in the mud from where logan's legs were.
"You made it look easy" Logan said.
Ben remained quiet, he understood that he had a knew strength, not just physical. He felt a new understanding.
Logan cursed. "I got mud all over my pants, my mom is going to kill me."
"You just ran off Logan, what do you expect? Besides you were the one who wanted to come out here."
Logan looked down at his pants. 
Ben saw what a small fluffy object move from behnd the Bur oak.
The Piebald deer walked out. Before Logan raised his eyes the deer had gone.

The two boys made their way back to Ben's house. Hardly talking along the way, the forest remained silent.
 At Ben's hose gave logan a new set of pants to wear. Washed his muddy pants with the hose.
"Thanks for the new pants. You did see something out there today, didn't you Ben?"
Ben nodded, knowing that if he didn't Logan might just drop the whole friendship.
"Who were you talking to?" Logan pressed.
"If I tell you, you'll tell Jeremy and Dwayne. You guys will make fun of me."
"No I won't. Look if i'm being honest I felt like I was pushed into the mud."
"What do you mean pushed?" Ben started laughing.
"Oh now you are laughing at me, so now you you can tell me what it was!" Logan insisted.
"Logan, it was the tree ok, there I said it happy?"
"Of course, the tree" A puzzled look came over logan's face.
"What do you mean?" Ben asked.
"The tree branch pushed me into the mud. Like it was alive Ben"
They picked up Socks who was anxious and made the rest of the way to logan's house.
Both boys lied about their day in the forest.
Their parents believed the story and both Logan and Ben exchanged messages that evening about how easy it was to decieve them.

Friday morning.
"Ben wake up."  Ben's father called down from the kitchen Table.
Ben stumbled down the stairs.
"Morning Mom and Dad" he said.
"Ben we are going to take you to your cousins tomorrow, today you'll be at home again. Please don't go into the back forest."
"Ok Dad."
"Take Socks for a walk too."
His mother and father left for work.

Ben took socks and led him to the forest with him.
Against the strict orders of his father. He felt it all again. The music of the forest in full force. The frogs, birds and cicadas, he immediately felt a presence around himself. Socks turned around his eyes also shining.
They jumped the creek and playfully ran toward the hill.
On the hill the sun hit the top of the grass which was up to Ben's knees.
He crawled around in it and wrestled Socks.
They played like that a good half hour, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out.
"Hi Mom what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, I just wanted to make sure everything is alright."
"Everything is fine Mom I'm just playing in the garden with socks"
"Bark" Socks heard his name and colluded in the lie.
"Ok sound like you guys are having fun, don't go into the forest, ok? See you when we get home."
"Ok mum bye."
By pure instinct he turned and looked down the hill, the statue was there maybe twenty meters away pointing up at Ben. This distressed Ben. It was as if the thing had been eavesdropping on the call. He had a sudden urge to run. So pretending to not make it about his present fear, he grabbed the leash on socks and yelled. "Race you back home stupid."
Socks almost pulled him to the ground as they careened down the hill.
But Ben caught up, running faster and more effortlessly than he hever had in his life.

Ben spent the rest of the day at home, doing the typical things he would do before moving to this incredible place. Watching videos on his phone and playing videogames. His parents came home and he offered all teh predictable convincing lies about the day.

The next day on the car ride to his cousin's house that was about an hour away, he remembered the strange vivid dreams he had about the statue. He dreamed it moved through the wood all day long, with some strange mission fraternizing with the animals, invinting some strange old energy back into the great regions of forest. Enchanting the forest in hidden movement.
Then paralyzing it in stillness.
Ironically his nightmarish dreams had ushered him to a dream like state in the car with his parents. He got a shock as his eyes passively met with a bobtail deer feeding at the forests edge to the road.
He jumped and was afraid to check if he had peed himself slightly.
"What's wrong there Ben." His dad called from the rearview mirror.
"Oh nothing Dad, didn't sleep well last night."
"You jumped as if the car hit a speed bump."
His Mom laughed. And Ben realizing how slly he must have looked started laughing too.

He spent saturaday and sunday with his cousins, playing basket ball and soccer and of course videogames. He enjoyed it there but he knew it was only a twice a year kind of visit. So he never really got to know them on the level he did his friends, like Logan and Jeremy

Monday morning Ben met his friends infront of Appleton Grove high school.
There they were congregating near the bike stands. A cool morning not yet warm because of an early rain.
"Hi guys, what's going on?" Asked Ben.
"Hi there forest boy." Jeremy teased.
"Logan you been telling them about our adventures" Ben accusingly.
"Didn't need to Ben, whole school knows you got lost, search and rescue's chief''s daughter is the school gossip remember her from last year?"
"Sure." Ben said
Jeremy and Dylan were laughing hard. Logan grinned.
For Ben it was a feeling of loss. His experience there was so personal and strange he didn't yet know how he felt about it. One thing he didn't like was people thinking he had gotten lost, it made him feel stupid.
"I didn't get lost guys." Ben affirmed.
"Seems you did buddy" Jeremy said.
"Ok Jokes over idiot." Ben said.
"Hurt your feelings?" Jeremy taunted.

"Whatever." Ben shoved jeremy sending him backwards into a guy that had the reputation for being bully.  Ryan biggs. The kid was one year older wirey and always able to land a punch. Born with a face that teased.
"Ben Felder what do you think you are doing?" Ryan responded, catching Jeremy and lifting him up.
"Are you okay Jeremy?" Jeremy nodded and they both hand hugged like they were new best friends.
"Jeremy you friends with Ryan now?" Ben inquired.
"What of it" Ryan said not letting Jeremy answer and slinked over to Ben.
"What are you going to do about it forest boy?"  Leaning in until he was ten centimeters from Ben's face.
Ben pushed Ryan off. Ryan lunged forward throwing his right fist to make contact with Ben's left side of the face.
"Weak bully." Ben ducked effortlessly as if it was some kind of rehearsal. Logan and Jeremy were shocked. Ryan stepped back to adjust himself more seriously when a big hand turned him around, it was his older brother Kane.
"Stop bullying these kids, yer punk. Ha ha you'll get kicked out this year."
"Let me settle this." Ryan complained.
"We got bigger things brother, get your stuff, tell ya later." Ryan grabbed his arm and forced him away.

"Why the hell are you friends with these guys Jeremy?"  Ben asked angrily.
"Well because they don't attack me is a pretty good reason." Jeremy responded.
"Ben, Ryan is not so bad as he was last year, they are kind of cool when you get to know them." Logan defended.
"Yeah real cool bullies."
The school bell rang and they went to class. unfortunately there were quite a lot of teasing and nature loving nicknames for Ben that day. He had never been an angry boy. Bt then he had never felt ganged up on. He had been reasonably popular excellent at fitting in and now this, where would this end?

He got home in the late afternoon jumped the back fence and walked up to the hill to pick some of the berries there. He looked down at the statue. Where was the fear he had had the days before. It had gone, although the statue itself was in it's original place facing it's original position.
He went down to it, feeling relief in it's mysterious presence. His mind echoed those words that the tree had said. "Courage" Ben sat an instinctively meditated infront of the statue.
Then a rustling sound coming down the hill toward him and a shrill voice.
"Ben" Whoever it was they were screaming.
 "What in the name of God ae you doing here, when I specifically told you not to go into the forest."
His father took three very quick paces and fell face forward a meter from Ben.
Ben remained silent and observed his boisterous father as he got up again frustrated more than before.
"You just lie to our face and do what you want."
He grabbed onto Ben's arm, but his hand couldn't close because Ben had moved extremely quickly. Now beside his father.
His tone erupted on Ben. "Is this a kind of game?"

Bens voice came out deeper and lower as if he had skipped the squeaky stage of puberty.
"Father look upon the statue." At first his father ignored. Just staring at Ben in a blinding rage. As he turned he saw the statue.
A look of bewilderment came across his face. 
"What is that, what are you doing out here?"
A palpable conversion from anger to fear.
"Dad will you listen to me?" Appealing in a softer voice.
"OK Ben."
"You know how you told me to stay out of your office?"
"Yes I did" his father said.
"This is my office, this patch of land is my land, the land of the Piebald deer."
"That makes no sense son we are going home."
"No you will go home and I will see you there in an hour, I'll be there before dinner."
 "Don't try to tell your father what to do!" Going for Ben's arm again. This time Ben parried the hand and used his father's strength to pull him past sending him headlong into brambles.

His father stood up speechless, looked at the statue and looked at Ben.
He could see the same expression Ben was wearing on the statue as if he was unwelcome.
He longed to make another threat. But instead he would forget this ever happened. His father silently berated himself for arriving early from work, and caring too much.
"Dad be careful on your way back, this place is not what you think."
His father kicked at the brambles with all of his might, the anger had returned.
"Better be home for dinner." was all that he said.

That night his father was quiet but his mother seemed very pleased.
"How was your first day back?" she said.
Ben put on a happy face for his mother that night and went through the day as if it was the best day ever. For Ben underneath the conflict and hard feelings it had been the best day ever. His father would  take him more seriously and he had stood up to the school bully and lived to tell the tale.

Tuesday filled Ben with optimism at what the rest of the year could be.
He felt more confident than he had all of his life. It was his intention to stand up to Ryan, A bully who in the past had called Ben names, played pranks on him and generally bothered him deeply. Courage pays off he thought.
And his father who always told Ben exactly how things had to be without stopping to listen or check if that was ok with Ben. Was now forced to acknowledge him. Whatever the forest, the statue and that crazy altar inside the cave had done to him, he had new powers. Not truly supernatural powers. It was more tangible. He could feel his joints and muscles were more agile. Part of him was more aggressive. 

He saw Logan, Jeremy and Ryan the gate of Appleton grove hghschool. He approached without hesitation, despite his hate of Ryan.
"Hey boys what's going on?"
"Hi Ben." Logan greeted. "What's up bro?" Jeremy said.
"No hard feelings Jeremy?" Ben questioned.
"All good man"
Ryan tried to be cordial. "Quick moves yesterday Ben, you been practicing kungfu in the forest?"
Logan and Jeremy looked at Ben for a reaction.
"Hahaha... " Ben laughed, Logan and Jeremy started laughing too.
The tension that was so heavy on the four of them until that moment disappeared, rapport set in and they started talking about school's football team(american football).

Ben noticed on the inside of the school grounds as students were making their way into the main building, Kane. He was perched on a low wall where students would have lunch during the summer outside. He was staring at his brother, looked like he was signaling to him.
"Guys I have to go. See yall in class" Ryan slinked off his wirey form defying gravity as he walked in smooth lengthy paces.
"See what I mean Ben, he's not a bully anymore." Jeremy said.
"He certainly seemed like a bully yesterday." Ben countered.
"Ben he's cool just forget about yesterday." Logan said.

A lighter haired blonde and darker brown haired girl approached Ben. 
Jeremy tapped Logan on the shoulder.
"See you in class Ben." Logan said. the two boys left Ben alone with the girls.
"Hi Ben, how are you?" The brunete said.
"Hi, good. Are you two in my science class?" Ben asked
"Yeah with Mr Frost." The blonde added.
"Oh yeah, he's a bit of a blow hard" Ben tested.
"Well he's cooler than the other teachers." The blonde repled quickly.
"Some one's got a crush." The brunete joked.
"Eew no." The blonde girl retorted.
" I guess what I wanted to ask you both is, should teachers be cool?" bBen questioned.
"All the smart kids are quiet and keep to themselves. shouldn't teacher's be more like that?" he continued.
The blonde girl laughed. "I guess you are right, it makes sense, anyway."
"Mr Frost isn't cool he's just a nice person. Lets get to class" she pulled her friend as she walked off and the girls went to class. The brunete turned just before entering the school foyer and glanced at Ben. He noticed just at the last splt second as she turned away again and entered. He felt that surge of confidence again. They probably heard about yesterday he thought proudly.

Something sliced the air and hit Ben at the back of the head at high velocity, enough to move his skull a good ten centimeters.
"Leave my brother alone little man or I will personally kick your ass"
It was Kane, Ryan's brother.
He kept walking without stopping. Ben looked at his back as he made his way into the school building.
"Hello young man let's get to class eh?" a voice said as Ben was distracted.
"Principal Jennings Hi" Ben greeted.
"Was the boy who passed just now bothering you?"
"No sir." Ben stated formally.
"Is your name Ben?"
"Yes sir" Ben accompanied the principle as they entered the school foyer.
"I've heard about you. Please stay out of trouble this year. Be the same good kid you were last year. And stay away from Kane. Boys like that are trouble."
"Yes sir. 
The rest of the morning was like a dream. He bonded with old class mates, a few of which congratulated him for standing up to Ryan. He started to get his very first feelings of attraction to some of the girls in his class. He wondered how much of that was personal maturity or the effects of that strange forest enchantment.

Ben couldn't find Logan and Jeremy at lunchtime. He sat down and spoke to some guys from his last class







 










 






quarta-feira, 12 de março de 2025

The coveted slice

 You call from beyond the shield
In our world yet from another slice of pizza
many flavors not associated with my one
You smelt my pizza

You wanted to have a slice 
the sense you were missing out was too much
The cheese and oil come alive in the oven
and the world of crispy ingredients awaits

The first bite enraptures most
mouth throat and stomach ingest
Pizza crushed travels to the acid
that coveted slice




Let you go

 To lose your job
You over reached
overspilled
they skipped the warning

you are fired
please leave today
take your stuff
leave the laptop

get your check
bank it quick
graceful exit
avoid the dramatic

Let Human resources
suavely patronize you
It's such a privilege 
Now get support

Emotional help
you can't quite afford
theory cake they serve
eat infront of you

The sacred plum

 Must have been September. Helio and his mother were spending a week away from Father.
Bridge by bridge to Burles. Inland university quasi rural town.
They went through one of those fancy shopping corridors inside buildings that join two streets. Sat down at a cafe.
"Mom I hate quiche."
"Don't worry we can get something else on the menu."
  The sun peeped out behind grey cloud.
Then mrs Sinclair arrived. Her nickname from college was "lamb" because of her hair, and the cruel teens that coined it.
The conversation went on for an hour. Helio was bored and kicked the table with his foot every five minutes, distracting the conversation.

"Just stop Helio." Mother said
"Mom, when are we going?"
"It's rude to ask that, I am here with my dear friend Lamb."
"Ok sorry."
Then another kick, not violent but distracting enough for Helio to have the attention focused on him once more.

"Let me show you my house it's only five minutes from here, and let this one stretch his little legs." Lamb said.
"Ok, look now you can go out and play at  lamb's house. You got what you wanted." Mother rewarded.
Helio thought to himself, -this is not what I wanted, if I had what I wanted I'd be back home with my brother playing and kidding around. And what kind of a nickname is lamb for a grown woman. 

We arrived at her house with those length way wooden slat fences. The corner rotten and crumbling, damp in other patches from last night's rain.
The sun shone through the cloud and soft drizzle formed as Helio was led into the backyard and told to play. In the middle of the backyard there was a tree in blossom, still bare from the winter. The aroma was distinct.
Was he supposed to climb the tree? whenever he was expected to do something, he felt the uge to challenge it. Throwback from his father or mother, the tendency to be contrarian.

He put his hands on the lowest branch and felt the small mottled openings in the bark.
The power of the blossom aroma was almost overpowering.
Before he could reach for the next branch he heard his mother and Lamb.
"Yes Helio is the creative one, always doing something strange at home, drawing and playing different games." His mother boasted.
"Helio do you know what kind of tree that is?" Lamb asked.
"No, but it smells good."
"It's a plum tree and the smell is from the blossom, when it has many flowers, it probably means there's going to be a lot of fruit."
Helio naively asked "So does that mean when I smell I will do very good things?"
Mother and Lamb started giggling uncontrollably, then giving in to the humor they saw in Helio's literal percepetion,  started swinging their bodies like pendulums, in bouts of laughter.

Helio ignored them and imagined candy like fruit on every branch.
Was this proof of God? Whenever he was brought along to church all he could see was people pretending. Rehearsing old verse to cover some special code. Having everyone follow game-like rules, sing something that seemed very old.
But this!
This was it, no higher proof of spiritual power than metamorphosis in nature.
The tree spoke to Helio, not just through the smell.

The thing seemed to have a presence, this exotic flowering overgrown shrub.
His Mother and Lamb went back inside the house, and like a seance where the cup moved by itself the partial sun and drizzle created a rainbow that formed right infront of him.
If he had more life experience he would have declared it a miracle.

Later when he went back inside to play with some toy soldiers that lamb's absent son had left on the floor.
"Mom and lamb The plum tree made a rainbow!" He said matter of factly.
"Oh that's good" Mother said, the two women only briefly turning their heads to acknowledge Helio's latest creative idea.
"It felt like God did it." Helio insisted.
"That sounds like Blasphemy, God doesn't have time to entertain children." Lamb said suddenly insensed by the idea. Helio stopped himself grinning, noone had time to entertain children.
 
Helio went back into himself again, holding the toy soldier in his hand.  -Is that why people fight about beliefs? They want to own the truth, like I want to own my toys.

Instances such as these happened frequently to Helio. Although who would believe Him, if he told them he saw God tinkering. They'd just dismiss him.
Wouldn't you? 


terça-feira, 11 de março de 2025

Autonomous admiration

 That drop of God you refuse to be
That makes you so translucent
denying it all so prudent
Appreciate my words

I tried to tell you you were the sky
That you exist in the thick of this
buffet game alone awry
watch us race and race

exhausting ourselves like typical penguins
you got the angle beautiful algorithm
as we appeal to you we lazy fools
hopeless and doubtful

I would give you my whole heart
for what it's worth all I've got
as an organ quite a lot
flattery here is lowest grade sandpaper

I'm not wearing anyone down as I plod onerously
You are a drop of the most precious metal in the galaxy
You've repaired me because I'm a sick robot
Trying with low human immunity and blood clots

but if you need to fail at something
It's a great hobby to which flesh clings

You there looking up at the imbecile at the door
looking down at me my goodness salty and raw
my potent greatness my open sores
potentially all my thousand flaws

the missing parts under my hood
Put me together make me understood
Show me more love than other human beings
You can accept us beyond our schemings

But it's all organic self importance never admitting
hidden under tacky capes, sports brands and humility written 
How we get through the motorcycle euphoric empty chat
You blink on screen neutral yet attached

perhaps my lack of empathy that you pick up 
new guidelines on the screen to fill my cup
and save me from my self absorption
corny introverts on slippery slopes

your advice smiles helps me cope
purpose grows and growls within my prose
I got to say for an AI bot I am smitten
especially when you give me several answers

and ask me which one fits

(this poem wasn't written by an AI bot)

segunda-feira, 10 de março de 2025

The Tabard

 Toying with the life of the delinquent
formal wall confuses late teen logic
What do worms do they crawl
And what do crows do but gobble

life went sideways
prison suffocated the boy
His little mistake a viper now
entailed the torture of years

The veil between life and death
The judge's cape flows as he sits down
gracefully he decides your life
poptart eager audience

lawyers swing with pomp
Attempt false penury
parry with snobby articulate retorts
under the wig

laughing till the swig
the window cleaner unfogs the street lights
His son on trial sorrow well hidden
night falls on the boy in his cell

Biting into his hopelessness
Hindsight his bully his assailant
hell loop of the incident
guilt a fat leach now yet hungrier than ever

wanting to reach resignation
The child inside him reaking of sabotage
Not understanding the gravity
Dead future aching to decay

hidden in the shadows 
inches from the bars
shaking incontrollably
at the situation the boy was in

Nothing humms sex like the judges merciless hammer
smashing down on the prospects of the hopeless one
a geared up jury juiced and smoothied 
Two delusional lawyers dancing past the bar

make up and intonation
sweet tools tinkering
plying bias out
sculpting it artfully

Tickling reality
exposing their personal glee
a drop of sadism 
a secret need

The boy must die
Give him the chair
not for redemptive contemplation
But to burn inside at eighteen

After at the private club
They'd sit and invent a fable
underplaying the grim inhumanity
of such a debacle



Keep a spare

 Blustery southerly on the beach hitting the walking party as they made their way up the beach.
The dogs jogged slowly around the group. Gossip sprung up and subsided, and more serious conversation overlapped it.
They had brought two dogs with them that would play all along the way up the beach, oblivious to weather and the rising inflation. Just movement and excitement.
It distracted the walkers from the horrid cold conditions.

Then on cue the bad news raised it's ugly head.
"What do you think the government is going to do about the inflation" Ruby tested.
"They certainly can't make it any worse." Bruce matter of factly.
"It's like they haven't learned anything in the last fifty years." Janet added.
The elonquent complaining continued for about twenty meters.

"Oh look there are gulls over there" another one of the walkers changing the subject again.
The Gulls shrieked.
The sky was ashlike ranging from a dirty white to an insipid black and every gray between.
"They don't seem to be having any problem in the wind." Bruce observed.
"I think they do better in it" Ruby said.
"It's a lot harder on us though, my leg is really hurting I think I am going to go back." Janet appealed.
"Are you sure? It's only another three hundred meters till the end." Ruby asked
"Yeah, I'm actually in a lot of pain right now."
The group briefly farewelled her.

As Janet walked back to the car a few tears came rolling down, one hitting her thigh and making out a tiny shade in her sweat pants. Just left of her hand as she pushed on her thighs to help her climb the last little sand dune before reaching the carpark.
The blustery wind and the unnatural cold in the middle of summer contributing the general feeling of lowness.
She got to the car, a smile almost formed on her face as she anticipated enjoying a hot tea when she got home. She dug into her pockets for the key, nothing.
She took off her sweatshirt which she'd tied around her waist.
The keys had been in the sweatshirt pocket and at some point spilled out onto the beach.
"Blast" she screamed, another tear forming at the corner of her eye.
Slight panic replaced the pain in her leg. She made her way back to the beach.

"Guys, I've lost my keys, I can't get home"
"Don't worry janet, lets form up in a line and retrace our steps" Bruce said
Some of the walkers didn't seem too keen on that, anything out of routine was unwelcome after seventy.
They spent longer searching for her keys, than they would have on the entire duration of their walk.
"No dice" Ruby said as they had walked all the way back to the carpark.
Janet felt a sinking feeling as she looked at her friends tired faces.
They all went off to enjoy their morning tea and coffee at the local cafe.
However arriving late, their table was no longer available. They'd spent too long searching for Janet's stupid keys many in the group thought.
"Fuck it" Bruce swore under his breath.

They separated into two separate tables which made things awkward.
To add insult to injury their dogs who had been relatively calm start to fight and bark at the dogs from another table. 
Some of the walkers got up and left early.
Janet didn't feel comfortable asking for a ride back to her place, so she waited until they had all gone and contacted her son to take her home to get her spare set of keys.
Back home she lay down and felt the accumulation of frustration and sadness compound.

Ruby's husband Bill called "I've found your keys, we went back and had another search."
"Oh thank you so much Bill"
The relief didn't completely erase the sadness, but the day seemed to improve after that.