Intothefray

Into the fray

We all fly yelling

Arms flailing around

We hunt the dreams

We seek our fortune

But do not find

We listen for the words

That we never fully hear

A blind moment

A lapse in judgement

It could be your last

If you don't play your cards right

You will end up the loser

The game goes on

Everyone is playing

It's the game of life

Loser takes all

Colosseum

The only rule was that you could not see what you were doing.

Blindfolded they were lead into the arena.

Blindfolded they listened as the crowd shouted and howled in excitement.

Blindfolded they listened as their fellow slaves were torn to pieces by unseen beasts.

Her Bedroom, Half Empty

There was a twin sized bed in the far corner with white sheets and a sky blue quilt on top.  The pillowcases had yellow stars on a black background, with a great full moon in the center.  She had always loved the sky and anything to do with it.  The ceiling was covered in glow in the dark stars and crescent moons.  The wall were sky blue like the quilt, but they had fluffy white clouds painted on them.  At the foot of the bed was a chest where she kept her shoes.  She had never been a very neat person, and all her shoes were sort of jumbled around inside.  Between the bed and the window was her dressers, one drawer still ajar and a sock hanging out of it.  On top of the dresser were trophies from her tennis matches and pictures of her with her friends.  There was also a note that read, "Good luck today sweetheart, you'll do great! Love, Dad."  She had read it, because it had been moved from her bedside table, which was the least cluttered object in the room.  In fact, the only thing on her bedside table was a glass of water.  It was half empty, much like the bedroom without her.

Various articles of clothing were strewn around the room.  She had never been a very neat person.  Only the day before he had been telling his daughter she needed to clean her room over the weekend, and she laughed and nodded her head.  She hadn't been lazy, just busy.  Always going somewhere, always doing something, always working on some new project or playing tennis.  Her closet stood to his left, the door wide open.  All her dresses were hung carelessly on hangers and various other items were thrown on the floor.  The only thing missing were her car keys and her tennis bag, which had been with her.  She had been on her way to a tennis match, the one she had been preparing for for so long.

He took one last look around the room and then left, closing the door behind him.  Her room was half empty without her, and she wasn't coming back.  His daughter was never coming home.

Music Munchies

Sometimes I just need music

To feed my soul before I get back into the fight

Sometimes I just need a little groove

To help me move on through the stormy night

Maybe a little tap or a knock

On the wooden table or metal door

Just a click or clack

Hum a few notes or maybe more

I want to chew

On those blissful little notes

Floating in the breeze

Sailing on the clefs like boats

I want to sink my teeth

Into the feeling of the groove

I want to drink it in

I want to feel my bones be moved

A feast of chords

The main course is the chorus

A catchy tune

With riffs that march before us

Oh that tasty beat

It vibrates deep in my soul

That bum bum bum

That makes me blissful so

Foolish

Stuffed against a wall of thorns
Sliced and cut in a methodical rhythm
Pressed hard with a soul so torn
And broken apart by the schism

Meaningless mutterings from the heart
Failure is a default for you
Running until you fall all apart
Fleeing from what you know is true

And the emptiness is a welcome feeling
The hollow icy tones
Just waiting for relief from this peeling
Terror but echos no groans

A silent moment for those who are lost
A remembrance of the past
Fallen friends and enemies in the frost
Forgotten time that was never the last

So go on being ignorant and foolish
You don't know you only judge
You'd rather be plain ignorant and foolish
With your hypocritical hearts of sludge

Call me what you will when you don't know the facts
Make all the claims your lying hearts can muster
Just remember in time about what exactly that's
Happening in this twisted cluster

Tangible

I met Death, and he was amused by me.

Maybe it was my confused and bewildered look, or maybe I smelled a certain way.  Maybe it was my frightened and lost tone of voice, or maybe I just plain looked funny.  Either way the whirling around of thoughts in my muddled mind did not help any.

"You don't know what you want," Death said to me.

"This is what I want," I said sure of myself and what I felt.

Death looked down at his watch.  The time was not right I guess for he laughed, winked at me, and then turned and vanished.

I now stood alone in the bright courtyard.  The sun shone down and reflected brilliantly off the new fallen snow.  A tree that was dead with gnarled , old branches stood next to me at my right side.  And to my left there was a small bird sitting upon a small fountain.  The bird pecked at the frozen water, and occasionally the small creature let out a chirp.  One side was death (the dead tree) and the other side was life (the small bird).  But even the side of life there was not peace or happiness.  In fact there was much hardship and struggle as the bird continued to try and get water, but to no avail.  I knew the water was frozen, but the bird did not seem to understand that.

I began walking home.  My lazy feet dragged through the snow soaking my socks and shoes and the bottoms of my pants.  I did not care.  The ability to give a shit had long since passed away and I was now only focused on one thing: my journey home.

A rustle in the bushes to my left made me jump a little.  It was nice to be startled though.  The feeling sort of kept me in reality in a way.  Out from the bushes came a small cat, a baby most likely.  It saw me and stood still hoping I would not see him.  I did not just see a kitten before me, but a living, breathing, normal creature.  I felt normal, id only for a second, seeing that little kitten with its dark, wondering eyes and its soft, fluffy fur.  Then, it walked away, almost taking my sanity with it, and again I began to descend into that dark, deep hole that was now my mind.

But I knew that was not the end.  Deep down I knew hope existed, somewhere, somehow.  I continued to walk thinking of friends and of family; loved ones and those who cared about me and were always looking out for me.  I felt comforted, I almost felt alive.

And alive was good.  I felt like I was a bran new toy just out of the factory, ready to hit the shelves and start a new life of helping others and making them happy.  Alive was more than good, it was great, it was awesome, it was pure amazing!  I was so ready to be alive, and I finally was.

Now I approached a crosswalk.  The light was green and cars sped up and down the road all in a hurry as people rushed to get wherever they were trying to get to.  The signal was a stop sign saying I could not walk yet.  So I stopped and waited for the walk signal.  I waited and waited some more.  I began to grow impatient as I stood there and the cars continued to zoom by.  As I began to get angry I realized that I had neglected to press the button on the light pole.  All this time it had been my problem that I had not started to do something about.  I had not taken the first step in finding a solution.  Feeling sheepish, I pressed the button and waited.  Soon after the signal said I could walk.  So I did.  I walked on.

The Red Blade

Tanner kicked in the door of the building and rushed in, his partners close behind him.  The people standing around the small art museum saw what was happening and at once panic ensued.  Tanner rushed up to the front desk and stuck his gun the the woman's face.  With wide eyes she spoke to him.

"What can I do for you, sir?"  she asked is a calm voice.

"What do you think?  Keep your mouth shut," he snarled back at her.  His partners had sealed the exit, and Big Tony was standing in front of it with his sub-machine gun.  The people had quieted down and were now all in a scared huddle on the floor.  Tom and Mac were in charge of getting the paintings that they had come for.  Bella and Ash were in charge of the hostages.  Tanner was the leader, and he was happy standing their with his gun in the desk lady's face.

It was not long until they heard sirens approaching.  Tanner had been counting on this, which was why he planned on turning it into a hostage situation.  Not only would the paintings be worth a lot of money, but he was planning on negotiating for more money for the hostages.  Lives were usually worth a lot to the police.  It was like a weakness, the importance of human life.  Tanner knew better.  Life wasn't not important, except to live however the hell you wanted.  If he were a cop, he would never negotiate with bad guys, he'd bust in and kill whoever got in the way.  Cops were soft.  He wasn't soft.  That's why he was ahead in so many way.

Richard sat on the floor holding his sobbing girlfriend, Amanda, against his chest.  He stroked her hair gently and whispered to her that it was going to be alright.  They had come here on a date Amanda being a fan of art.  Richard had thought she would like it, and she had very much been enjoying it until this.  He looked around the room.  There was nothing he could use...except...

"Excuse me," he said.

"What?" asked Bella.

"I've got to go to the bathroom."

"Bull, you haven't even been sitting there twenty minutes."

"I had to go before, and I just hadn't yet."

"I don't care, stay there."

"Come on, you want me to piss all over the floor?"

"Not my problem," said Bella turning away.

"Naw, come on Bella, what's he gonna do?  Sure, I'll take you to the restroom.  Anyone else gotta go?" Ash asked.

"I do!" said a woman, but Richard gave her a look and she lowered her hand and shook her head.  "Never mind."

"Alright, let's move," Ash said.

Richard got up and moved down the hall, Ash following him, his shotgun sticking out in front.  As they walked they heard the voice of the police over a loud speaker.  Ash looked back for just a second, and it was enough.  Richard spun around, swinging is arm around and knocking Ash into the wall.  The shotgun clattered to the floor.  Richard jumped for it but was grabbed around the middle by Ash.  They struggled.  Ash tried to pull a revolver from his waist, but Richard got it first.  He hit Ash over the head with the pistol and then put him into a headlock.  He put the gun to his head and moved forward.  They came out of the hall and Richard called attention to them.

"The rest of you better put down your guns or I shoot him!" Richard said.

"Ash!" Bella cried.  They were brother and sister.

"Put 'em down now!" shouted Richard.  The other's began to lower their weapons, but Tanner looked right at Richard and raised his pistol and fired off several rounds.  He hit both Richard and Ash, killing them both. Bella screamed and rushed forward.  Amanda cried out as well and when she moved to get up Tanner turned and shot her as well.

"Tanner what are you doing?  You said no one was supposed to get hurt!"  said Big Tony.

"Shut up and watch the door like you're supposed to." Tanner said.  Tom and Mac had stopped gathering the art and were exchanging looks.

"Tanner...you just killed three people, including one of our own...what the hell man?" Tom asked.

"Finish the job, or I'll shoot you too," Tanner spat at him.  The lady behind the desk began screaming hysterically.  "SHUT UP!"  She kept screaming.

BANG!

She slumped to the floor, a pool of blood forming around her body.  Tanner looked around the room just in time to see Mac raise his gun and shoot him five times.

Outside the police hearing the gunshots decided to send in SWAT.  They burst in, tear gas being thrown everywhere.  Tom, Mac, Big Tony, and Bella were all arrested and the hostages taken to safety.  Those declared dead at the scene, including Tanner, were brought to the morgue.

That night on the news the story of the bloody, failed museum robbery was the top talk.  A man and his wife sat eating their dessert after dinner, sipping tea and just relaxing.

"This is why I hate watching the news, Bill," said the woman.  "These stories are so depressing."

"I know Clara, want me to change it?" asked Bill.

"Please..." she said.

"If only you could just change life's channel with the click of a button..." Bill said with a sigh as he switched to a game show.