creative writing – Page 7

Sins of our Forefathers

The words painted read betrayal

Living is the price we pay to die

Sin rubbed against the walls of the jungle

Signs our fathers left

Don’t you see the buildings falling?

Phasing into green leaves

As the sun pours the fire on earth

Shadows roam these streets

Forgetting the blood smeared on our houses

They search for the coward

who left behind hatred

The phase of our lives

Stages set in a point of solace

Cries made from water

Drank only after the party ends

During the times that have come by, I pray for war to come. Not these new modern warfare. The old kind. Those ones stationed between battle noise and mud trenches. The zipping sounds of mortars, as empty bullet shells illuminate the blood heavy war terrain. Soldier boots marching through old places that were once called new homes.

Yes, I pray night and day. Night and day! Yes, for at night sleep refuses me and tosses me in between my past memories and a future I remain nameless.

………………………………..

These drones are empty vessels. They are transporters of bad news and death. For our souls do hunger for a reason to accept sleep, but no! Not these ones. These silent birds made with fiber like materials only look down, fall flat, and never return up.

Like thin dots silently scattered.

Only if your hands be wide as the oceans floors and you bring them together then one might see how much these dots have cost us.

…………………………………

I grow sick by the hour. Every hour eaten in silence. Every chance taken just to remain still. I grow deeper into my own anger. Madness beckons daringly close ….and I fear I will welcome it back home.

Commander Bull. ENTRY #204881

Battlefront Shagari Sector, Year 2098

Simple World: Origins

Space..The beginning of all things created deep within the furnace called life. From void, we arrived. Celestial in size, eternal in depth, spirit beings in our true state. A speck of some form floating, wrapped tightly around milky linen sheets.

We, from the deep darkness awoken into the truth that is called Light have come very far.
Far, into the parallels of different points in existence, we have journeyed: timeless
……..
I opened my eyes and my birth origins flashed right by. An enormous bird stayed stuck gliding on the wings of the gold coast skies, i saw.

I once dreamed. Dragged and buried under the ambient galaxies. Forced to witness my tomorrow unfold, my eyes free from any manipulations. The smell of daylight lingered strong pushing away the burnt reflections of any known pain. Here, stationed in this shuttle named tomorrow, i saw that indeed the human life in full was blunt with words and brief to experience. Like a good high..the memories vivid, duration always shortened.

sky wall//forest crossing

Tying melodic knots
Interwined by destiny
Sealed by fingerprints
I remain high
Knowing my fate
Up here
The pain rides slower
So i glide better
Ever so much
Better than i ever did
These old colors
feel new in beating red

Old fashion tusks
Stained with bullets scars
My rough skin wades
Lighter with each pull
I stand tall, falling deep within

Mammoth, mammoth being
I call you
Do you not see them?
Why have you refused to not move?
There you stand receiving all
Bullet holes filled with forced pain
Yet you dance
Raising earth and dust
Your enchanting foot steps
leaves me doing the same jivving here on cloud dust
as i look down onto you
with my peace of mind

The Original Orange

The proud but always smiling badger stared at the yellow orange with much curiosity. His white and black fur shone as the sun stood in the sky without fear. He wondered why this particular orange was just so yellow. Every orange he had seen before were not as yellow as this one. Mr. Blind Hedge-Hog had told him that the yellow orange was a sign of doom.

“Foolish Hedge-hog, he doesn’t know anything,” the Smiling Badger thought.

Doom only came to people who wished for it. You get what you wish for. He hated people who were always negative. For example, the always drunk pink Squirrel was always having trouble because of his constant negativity.

For all this smiling Badger knew, this yellow orange was a sign of good times. The smiling badger knew he had to stop Mr. Blind Hedge-Hog from spreading more lies about the yellow orange, so he decided that he would go up to Mr. Blind Hedge-Hog’s house and confront him.

Knock! Knock!!

“Who is it, is that you Mr. Yellow Squirrel?” Mr. Blind Hedge-Hog asked with much curiosity.

“No! It’s Mr. Smiling Badger.”

“Oh you, I really would like if you could stop smiling”

“I can’t, I am the smiling badger.”

“I know but your smile is just borderline plain ridiculous,” shouted the hedge-hog.

“You see its hedge-hogs like you that continue to piss off the humans.”

“How do those always angry humans relate to me not liking your smile? You know Mr. Smiling Badger sometimes I don’t believe I know you”

“Typical of Mr. Blind Hedge-hog, you always keep quoting annoying irrelevant references. You watch too much of those human television shows.”

“Shut up, just shut up, you know nothing. You know nothing about anything with your sassy looking face.”

“Oh for the love of my father’s smile, are you Hedge-hogs ever serious?”

“Hmm, you know that’s a very difficult question, but be rest assured that the yellow orange will answer your question, with doom of course.”

“Stop speaking such blasphemy, the yellow orange will bring peace and harmony.”

“No, you are wrong my friend, the yellow orange will kill us, except me off course and maybe my wife.”

“Alright I can’t take this anymore, open this door at once, you spiny little mammal.”

“Oh wow, you know, all this time we both were engaging in this heated debate over a yellow orange, I honestly honestly! forgot you were still at the front of my door.”

“That’s it, I’m going home, I hope you Hedge-hogs turn into zombies and kill each other.”

“Now that’ll be cool, like I’ll just freak the living nut out of Mr. Yellow Squirrel”

“By the way please extend my greetings to Mrs. Smiling Badger for me, I miss her sassiness.”

“Mr. Smiling Badger, are you there?”

“Well well, I guess he went away”

“And I was just about to open the door.”

“Oh Life, we hedgehogs are just beautiful and misunderstood.”

The story of the hedge-hog is an ongoing series, catch up with previous episodes of the hedge-hog

The Legend of the Hedge-Hog

The Curse of the Hedge-Hog

Bamza and Leela

Approvingly quiescent, Bamza sat next to the large garbage bin. “At last,” he sighed, he was finally in perfect melancholy. This was the only place in the circus that was without laughter or forced delirium. His legs were sprawled all over the floor in an unfazed manner. His left hand held a half empty bottle of Captain Morgan’s rum. With a sudden realization, he came back to reality from his temporary rest and gulped down the remainder of the spicy rum. Each gulp brought back harsher times; from his failed career as circus clown to his failed marriage to a woman who unknowingly was only interested in his money; it all flooded into his mind without a hint of restraint.

“Wretched woman, I hate you,” he drunkenly blurted out. The liquor was now showing its full blown effects, and with a roar he stood up and danced around to his own delight.

“Left, right, left, then right, right!” he sang while moving his legs accordingly.

As his mind remained in a melodic trance, a Nebelung cat appeared from nothing into Bamza’s clear front view. His veins swelled up as he became fully aware of the silky-furred cat.

“Leela!” he exclaimed, and without much thought he immediately began pursuing the cat. He chased and chased. Up and down Bamza ran, he had only one goal on this moonlit night and that was to capture that fuzzy-looking creature. The cat ran without any sign of fright, it was as if the cat knew the pursuant was a failed-man who could not even catch the pieces falling from his own life. Bamza on the other hand looked very determined to succeed, “he had to accomplish this mission life had presented to him,” he thought to himself, “He just had to.”

With his hands almost on the cat, Bamza slipped and fell rock bottom on the floor. To crown his great fall, he had fallen on slime liquid. Bamza was mortified, so he cried. He remained on the floor with discontent written all over his face.

“Blast! This dress cost me 500 bucks. Oh why? Why?”
“See what you caused,” he said, pointing his fingers at the cat.
“I hate my life. I hate this whole damned place. Oh God I am tired, I’m just tired,” He cried.

And so it was that he fell into a deep sleep right next to the garbage disposal. The cat sat close to the now sleeping man. With its glittering eyes, the cat looked at poor Bamza with pity.
And there Leela sat; patiently waiting for her owner to arise from this deep polluted mess.
“Slow Night, So Long,” she purred.

Rise and shine
Drag that weight
Slowly the pain will subside
Even till the night
The cries will be heard
Only the victorious know the joys of the morning

Chains Broken

Every step up that ladder seemed unattainable. The progress made so far was slow as it needed to be. Our thoughts were closer to pain than hope. Pain was easy to obtain. Pain required no formalities to settle into your place of rest; like an unwanted guest who refused to depart.
So I tried; again and again, on and on, I revved, but the clock refused to heed to my words. The wheels kept pushing forward; upward to somewhere that looked like heaven. So to the edge I step; a place where I had no choice but to move on.
Silence engulfs me
A deep sigh,
Back here, one last time
Then it begins
Forgetting pain and sweat, I run
My path gets more unclear by the day
But I preserve and scratch deep down
With my heart bleeding courage
I reached
I had come in last but nonetheless I had succeeded
To my own voice,
With precise clarity
I heard emptiness had fled away
Leaving behind a taste for survival

Spin

When the young arrived the old quietly sat on their chairs

Our lives spin in circles hoping to align directly with our desires. Some people never get to see their deepest wishes come to fulfillment, but only a few realize whatever their heart had hoped for. They journey into loneliness without preconceived pressure, but with a free-flowing effortlessness. Unfair civilization; definitions of the world we continually live in. We are bound to hate one another with disdain and bitterness. Sometimes hoping for a change is like a ball stuck in a dead stream; hopelessly stagnant. Slowly and gradually we disappear into solitude and despair. Love seemed to be the right way but when sought and pursued, a cold shiver was received. SPIN

Third Person (Voice)

You know after all this; the constant pressure to succeed or fail, the pressure to fake a smile or a frown, the pressure to find one or another, or the constant looks from the street judges, there I am (moi). Standing there or maybe walking with my back turned, I look strange just walking, fighting my through another man’s time. I know that’s contemporary life; “you work to live,” but where is my own time?

The elites might know, I mean I toil for them everyday. They should know something, right?

Where am I in this ‘scatta’ ‘scatta’ mess?

Have you seen me lately?

I think I’m lost, missing in action

So is my voice lost in this strictly commercialized noise?

Oh well there it goes again, echoing away my soul

I can’t hear it, even if I lean further, it has gone too far, or am I too far away?

After all this motion and more motion

Where am I?

Where is my voice?

I think I might have to shout much more louder to get it back. Reach for the stars, they say!