Friday, January 31, 2014


Drums earthquake the earth 
The darkness is coming 
Hear the voices of ghosts 
Howling at the moon
Above a canopy of hands
Move with the wind
Blowing their leaves 
Amoung the earth 
Bang bang
Clack clack
They are comeing
Blowing their trumpets
The war is soon to begin
Blood will spill
Fires will  torch the fields
Ashes will fall like snow
The dead will lay among
The moonlight 

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Out of the Crowd


Here I am 
Just little old me
Trying to figure out 
If I was meant to be

All alone I stand
Different from all others
Standing strong like a flag pole.
I am not like the rest
I am not the best

I stand out
from the crowd
I am me
No one else
No one can change
Or rearrange me
I was born the way I am
Like the tide on the bay
With its natural rhythm

If every one looked the same
I would stand out
Being different or unique
I dont follow the pressures
That measure
How great you can be
I will form my own greatness
By being me.


Sunday, January 26, 2014


"Love is fragile but friendship never cracks"

Love is fragile, but friendship never cracks in the foggy night. The tombstones glow in the night with their cold touch. Fear crawls on the bumps of my skin. A deep shiver within, but a tear I shed in sorrow.
My heart is a heavy stone weighing me down. In the darkness the shadows creep but a light, the way, the truth, and the life see me through. The feeling of dying has its ways of toying with one’s mind.
Love is something special, love is fragile, love manipulates with one’s mind. You lose people and make your heart stone. But somehow, someway, there is one that is with you.
The story leads to a little cancer girl; she lived her life to the fullest. She didn’t give up, but she was taken by it. When she died, her last words as she closed her eyes, she said, “Mommy I can see butterflies.”
That’s the way life is. Otherwise it has the same beginning but a different ending, unexpected and unplanned. It has its twists and turns. Don’t live with a sore broken heart. You are in trusting hands. Let them guide you through.
Love is fragile, but friendship never cracks.

Friday, January 24, 2014


Look through my eyes 
What do you see?
A speck Gentilness?
A dash of pain?
Perhaps fright or joy?
Or a story
A story of my heart and soul
Through the barriers of life
You will be amazed of what you'll find
You may recall knowing my name 
Bits and pieces of my life,
But you don't know the whole story
Stuffed with secrets, abuse, scars of fighting 
A battle 
Look through my eyes 
All your going to see is strength 
Love, passion, and humility!
Those are the words of who I am
Not from my written past.
But without it I wouldn't be who I am
Look through my eyes

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

The Tide

Cast Away

A bumpy ride lies ahead
filled with a future worth fighting for.
Having everything you could have
Love, travel, and money
All right in your pocket.
The sky looks clear and bright
As you begin the journey ahead.

The stars shine ever so bright 
as you fly over head
all the ant hills full of people
lighting torches for the coming night
As you fly high in the sky
The ground begins to dissipate.
Into a black blanket of nothing
The air around you shakes and rattles 
the metal frame.

Harder and harder it goes
tearing the time capsule like plane.
The force sucks you deep into the blackness
No air to breath but water.
That goes on for miles and miles around. 
Until we are forced up and gasp for air
The only thing you have is a yellow boat
To float until safety or your trapped on an island
or the ocean blue itself.
With no hope and no will to survive.
This is life.
When it gets hard the wind blows or 
consumes us in flames
or drowns us into the depths of pain.
 The choice is yours, let it take you,
Or fight for survival.
"Cause your never know what the tide will bring." - Tom Hanks( movie cast away)

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Let Love Take Its Course


Take a breath.
Let it out.
Your over thinking,
over contemplating these feelings again.
the ones burning up inside you.
Like a oil lamp,
An internal fire,
That won't douse. 
Fighting will do you no good.
Ignoring will make you insane.
Just let life flow, 
into a river.
Ride along it with out a care.
Let things go,
they way they are meant to be,
dwelling drowns one.
Learn to control.
 Just let it be.
Its not yours to change.
Its not yours to control.
Put in the hands,
that care for you the most.
The one most high,
watching over you.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Room Key Number 5 the Final Hour

Hey boondocks this will be the final part of the short story instead of four enjoy!

The room had a nice bed with a polished wooden bed board, nice red comforters and white pillows stuffed with feathers. Straight ahead at the widow was a heater to keep the room warm, next to it was a small TV, followed by a tiny bathroom. He set his bags down and headed to the bathroom to freshen up and put his nightshirt on and crawled in the bed. He laid there, and suddenly he heard a loud pound like a hammer: BANG BANG BANG. He looked out the window, and no one was there. He raced to the door it hadn’t been disturbed.
“Okay calm, Philip. You just had a rough night. Let just sleep, yeah, sleep.”
He crawled back under the covers and turned on the TV and fell asleep.
“ Who said that?” asked Philip
“GET OUT GET OUT! OR I will kill you!”
His heart pounded louder than ever, his body shook like a jackhammer with sweat streaming down his cheeks.
“I can’t take it anymore!” Screamed Philip he raced out of bed and tried to open the door. It was stuck.
“Please leave me be!” Screamed Philip
His adrenaline shot through his body, and he propelled him self out the window. He fell 4 stories. Philip was dead.
A tombstone was laid were he died that night

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Room Key Number Five Cont.

Entering the lobby, he found the carpet was blood red and the walls had autumn colors. On his left, the furniture was worn down and brownish black, sitting by a roaring fireplace. In front of him, was a large wooden desk, just recently polished with a new silver shiny bell.
Ding Ding.
He waited for a minute and turned to look at the room again.
“ Yes how may I help you?” an elder lady said.
Phillip flailed his arms and his heart jumped
“ You alright sir?”
“No, you frightened me!”
“Would you like a room?”
As he tries to settle down, he looked more closely at the lady. She had a gray shawl and a long skirt, with white hair and blue misty eyes. In her hand was a long wooden staff with a ram at the top.
“ I think I would like one.” Phillip said hesitantly
“ Here, sign in and here is your room key… room number 5.”
Phillip signed in and picked up the key. It was a strange room key with a long leather strap and attached to a tin circle with a glass bubble over it and a tiny 16 that was written in black and fuzzy. Below the tin were a brass key with 2 screws and a small jagged edge.  Next to the key was a brass metal five with holes in it.
“ What a weird key looks like it could be a necklace,” he thought
In the lobby were two staircases: one leading to the left side and one leading to the right. Above his head, near the staircases, were signs of room numbers.
On the left said “WEST SIDE CORRIDOR Rooms 1-5”and on the right “EAST SIDE CORRIDOR Rooms 6-10”

“ Well guess I’m on the west side.”
In that instant, a flash of lighting with a roar of thunder came from the hectic storm.
Philip hurried up stairs to the room his heartbeat raced and pounding as if someone was knocking. He reached the room, trying to put the key in with his shaky hand. Once he got it open, a sudden rush of peace reached his heart. 

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Room Key Number Five

Hey boondocks this next segment I will be posting a short story. I wrote this about a year ago and it is one of my favorite things to read. Each day a piece of the story will go up in to 4 parts. Hope you enjoy, the mysterious room key number five. Here is the setting.

Room Key Number 5
April 5th, 1950
Thunder rolls over the hills of Maine, as rain blows like arrows in a bloody battle. In the distance a lighthouse gleams like a bright sun.  Nearby the long shores are brushed with waves that pound madly against the sand. Next to the lighthouse, a white picket fence surrounds an old 1800s Victorian house standing through the rain. A beaming light streams through the windows of the house that seemed quite cozy and warm on a rainy night. This sight appealed pleasing to our guest Mr. Phillip; he is a pastor of a church up the street. As the rain pounds, he looks at his car on the side of the road. A tire had gone flat, and not a pay phone around to call for help. He looked around the premises: not a sight of a station for miles. He gazed back at the giant house in the distance. “ Looks like I have no choice but to stay here;” He said to himself. Gathering up his suitcase and a bag of sunflower seeds, which were his favorite, he started down for the house through the tall prairie grass. The rain grew harder and harder, making the grass slick. He tried to be careful but was not successful. He fell, bottom-first into a pile of mud. “ O’ this suit was a rental ugh now I owe the retail 40 bucks to clean it.”  As the light in the windows grew bigger, a sign by the house said Ghost Light Inn. “That’s a strange name for a nice Inn.” In a instant lightning flashed with a loud crack of thunder. He approaches the long deck that wrapped around the house, and as he steps on the wooden stairs they moan and creaked sounding like a ghost. He shrugged it off and went up to the door; it was made of cherry wood with a gold crown molding it was the only well-tended thing on the outside of the house.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Night and Day

Dark and Light

A warm wind on a summer night
Brings a flight of delight 
The glistening sun
Makes my heart run
To the joy of the sky
To the never ending hills
With the ducks with the bills
The Rows of trees 
To the birds and the bees
The flowers dance every hour 
By the tower of bells

Where light meets night 
Where the crows meet 
The merry beat
The sky's fight
Every so bright
Lighting strikes with all it's power 
In the divided land
The sun blows it's warm kiss 
As the crows hiss and tear
The beauty every where
Fear not the dark will never win
The good brings the wind.


Tuesday, January 7, 2014


Dear The One, 
That voice of thunder and anger 
Echoing  through the corridors
Cracks and rumbles my head
Vibrations crash violently against the shores of my heart
Pounding madly like a drum 
As the slither of your power wraps around
My throat hardens and chokes
It's self
It closes 
All around spinning of your words of abuse 
 Induce the building nausea 
Boiling like lava 
For 13 years your abuse goes on and on 
A fall that never ends
Getting worse as time goes 
I beg and plead you to stop
You continue to hurt me
Draining my life away
I starve as you bash me with a whip of words like worthless and stupid
All ring through my head 
Causing my imprisoment
Let go of me 
Leave me be 
You anxiety