Sir Day Walker

Praise Koolaid

I’ve seen the other side of twilight

By the light of a candle in my eye

It was whimsical, it was dark

It echoed of lost souls

And broken wings

Of lonesome curiosity

Hardened were my tears of wax

Melting upon the break

Of another dawn

As I shivered in the sun

There on the horizon

The epoch arrived with a melody

And Calypso spoke softly

Her words danced

Profoundly in the air

Like silk in the wind

Followed by the echoes

Carried away by the steel breeze

That I followed

Now dancing

Back to the shadows

Of Twilight

It was dark

The Cloudy Cafe

It wasn’t until I rolled up my sleeves that I noticed the new tattoo.  It was a picture of Loose Lana.  How many cocktails could that have taken?  I hit the Jackpot last night, that was the last thing I remembered.  Oh, and the laughter coming from the pit boss after I told him he could keep my old car…tossed him the keys, and collected my winnings.  Wonder if he knows that its the orange Pinto parked in the Red Zone.  No matter, I’ll be checking out of here, hitting the Chrysler dealer…and riding down the highway in style in less than an hour.

Three hours down the desert highway, I stopped at a little place called Baghdad Cafe.  I stepped out of my new ride and was hit immediately with a gust of wind that blinded my eyes with hot dry sand.  I fell over with a thud, clutched my eyes and began to roll around like an idiot.  Suddenly a vision flashed before my blinded eyes.  Clouds, there were clouds dancing and shaping into all of my favorite things.  It was like a dream!  A moment later, I realized that the visions were actually…reality.  The sand had vanished from my eyes, but I was still lying on the ground, staring up at the desert sky.  Mesmerized by what the Clouds were showing me, I tried my hardest not to blink.  I didn’t want to miss a thing!  Just then, one of the Clouds shaped into an arrow, descended down to earth and showed me the way.  There was a ‘For Sale’ sign propped up just outside this dilapidated Cafe.  The Cloud surrounded the sign, and sat limbo for who knows how long.  Finally, I got up…brushed myself off, and pulled the wood splintered sign up out of the ground.  The Cloud followed as I walked inside this old Cafe.  I dropped it upon one of the dusty little booth tables, looked around…and the Cloud was gone.

Three months later, I still reminisce about that day in my new Cafe in the desert.
The lesson here is, if you look to the sky for answers… then make sure you follow its advice.
Oh, and never question the Clouds.
Coffee anyone?

This was a Writers Duel Challenge.

The Topic was Vegas and I was given the terms loose lana, pit boss, and jackpot…all 3  had to be included in the piece somehow.  Not sure how I got to where I did with it…but it was a fun piece to toss together.

Unchain Her Melody

Her tears soaked the filter of the cigarette, yet she somehow managed to
keep it alight. Just like most things, she always managed through the tears.
She must have learned to swim in the oceans that left her body.
It’s like there were chains of ancient bound to her heart, but she was never
absent of soul. She sleeps in melancholy song. She sleeps in vibrant life,
no one there to see…why she awakens so sad. I’ve always thought it was
because she awakens each day, that made her so sad. I dare say,
I would…for just one moment, like to peer into her sleep.
To hear the melody that makes her eyes dance while they are closed.
But then, I too might have to learn…how to swim.
I may never learn the dance.
Instead, I shall be chained to a life of learning how to dream.

Have you ever had one of those days where you feel like you’ve just meandered through that other dimension, you know the one. It starts off with a low hum, background noises become the audible forefront and you begin to feel a little high. A little buzzed. The TV echoes talk show applause followed by laughter past the streaks of morning sun breaking through the blinds.

Please tell me I didn’t just hear some guy comparing the circumference of his penis to that of a cheese wheel. I refuse to be drawn in by that, but now I seem focused on the removal of whatever look on my face was induced by the cheese wheel situation. Surely I have stuff to do…but do I dare? So I continue about meandering small tasks, intent on shining the light of my now distracted state of mind unto the world outside.

Trying to ignore the evidence of atmospheric instability, I was compelled to move through it. At some point I took my eye off the ball, and was veered off track. I found myself strolling through some huge hobby shop, apparently absent of the fact I have no hobbies. Something smells kinda like sawdust, which reminds me of my Uncle’s old barn, which reminds me of how much I miss the sound of an entire field of crickets chirping the night away, which reminds me of running through those fields with my cousin, who had hobbies and used to have an ant farm. That’s a hobby, right? I have one somewhere, but I hate ants so I’ve been saving it for that perfect re-gifting opportunity to come along…for about 20 years now.

Here comes some young guy complete with a crooked name badge. Please tell me he’s not humming quietly to the beat of his own footsteps. He’s staring at me, eagerly anticipating eye contact but now I am focused on wiping my face clean from the ‘quietly humming to the beat of his own steps’ situation. Maybe if he took the iPod out of his ears, it would help things. Not to mention it’s just adding to the background noise factor already in progress. The hum of the intercom overhead crackled, someone’s breaking through the static to page assistance to the help counter. How funny. Assistance…to the help counter. The corner of my eye shifts it’s attention. Shit, he’s still on the slow humming approach, three or four feet at a time. I feel strangely hunted. I’ll need to distract him. So I turn to him, and in mid hum he stops frozen, attempts to compose himself, and asks if he could be of assistance. How much you wanna bet he’s the one their paging back to the help counter.

The rehearsed delivery of his words were a dead give away. So, too…were the obvious reasons not to let this guy wander off too far. I thought of my Uncle’s barn and running through the fields and so on, so I said “Yeah…I have this ant farm, and I’d like to know if I can trade it in for a field of crickets?”. I waited for him to bust out at least a chuckle, some sort of sign that he got the joke. He stared at me so long, the sound of a thousand crickets began to fill in the void like a commercial in my head. Finally, he announces that he’ll be right back and begins the journey down the aisle to the beat of his own song. It was like watching him play hopscotch without the squares. Where the hell is he going? Surely he understood the irony and sarcasm in my virtual quest for the unobtainable.

Now I wondered what look has descended upon this face of mine, and could it be repaired? Probably not, so in a sudden move of haste and the need to escape, I decided it would be best if I just left. I could barely contain the light hearted laughter that dwells beneath. The day’s not over, the background hum is still there, I still feel high, so I have to ditch the help counter guy. I head casually for the exit, and of course it loomed at me. Then I see him, over by the help counter, fumbling with the intercom attached to his waist. The automatic doors swished open and the outside air headed in like a breezeway, and through the noise of the busy street in front of me I could hear his voice. Please tell me I didn’t just hear him radioing in…for help. And then I hear him, clear as day all the way outside “I know there’s 12 in a dozen, and I know how many is in a 100 pack…but they need a field and I need to know how many equals a field…”

For the remainder of my meandering day, the verbal antics of the world around me continued to poke at the surface of absurd. Strange happenings and peculiar sounds ruled my world. My face was undone so many times that it still hurt the next morning. So…with that said, by the third cup of coffee, I had the ant farm packaged and ready to go. I hope my cousin likes it.

I should like to thank JC for creating a space for the Monster I am about to become.

This is going to be a place to put all of my ramblings, short stories, and other stuff to make your eyes go red and tired while your mind goes into insomnia.

Thanks for stopping by, please do check in often

**where are the smileys 8 – |**