Sir Day Walker
Praise Koolaid

Feng Shui…two, three

     Posted on Mon ,14/09/2009 by Daywalker

I laugh at the sound of silence
and still there is no reply
I laugh out loud this time
Just to hear the echoes of
My own far away cries
Dance,
two, three
In the mirror
I dance to the silence
With me
And the shattered teeth of the clowns
smile back
two, three
Softly creating personality
Reminding me so noisily
I prefer to pull the strings
two, three
Of my own destiny
A carnivale olé’
Again and again
Each and every day
I create my own feng shui
Tomorrow’s could simply be
Singing loudly, off key
In the center of a public library
two, three
She discards the notion of necessity
That I retain my sanity
In the glory of all my audacity
Because she loves me
two, three
__E_V_A___by_uxorious

Stand and Face Your Property

     Posted on Sun ,13/09/2009 by Daywalker

Step to the side Sir, there seems to be a problem with your ID.

This should only be a moment, please wait while we call security.

Good thing I’m not in a hurry.

I’m sure the plane will wait, as if I’m a snow flurry.

I got here with 2 hours to spare.

Not knowing it would be wasted by idiots extraordinaire.

And here I was all excited.

I even combed my teeth and brushed my hair.

If you needed clarification,

all you had to do was look at the big F on my identification.

We could have avoided this whole situation.

Now I will surely be late for my fucking vacation.

I just wanted to get outta here.

Go lay on a beach with a giant cooler of beer.

Now as sure as I am standing here,

I am being subject to hearing someone whisper “is hy Genderqueer?”

The guy in charge is standing off to the side.

He’s not sure what to do…I can see it in his over aged eyes.

There is no conspiracy;

I’m not trying to be anyone but me!

Oh, great…now they want to have me searched.

This is starting to feel like hell on earth.

All because I look like a man,

And my license says that’s not who I am!

Stand and face your property,

Empty your pockets for our bureaucracy.

I suppose next you’ll wanna see my strappy.

Confusion sets in, let the scramble begin.

Who will search this FTM?

A man, a woman…or, hey, how about a lesbian?

A crowd begins to appear.

Excellent, alive and well are my biggest fears.

How about some coffee while you wait?

Why not, at this point I’m surely late making it to my gate.

Could you maybe get those folks to stop gawking?

I feel like shouting “Dead FTM Walking”!

Finally, they find a gay employee.

The phag in me wanted to scream all girly!

She walks over to me with this look of “I’m so sorry”.

I shrugged at her, with a look of “Not to worry…”

She smiled and commenced with her duties.

I looked over, smiled and winked at the crowd…who was still looming.

They should be so lucky, because this girl was a cutie.

Wonder if she like to go lay on a beach with me.

Ok, now I’m just being really silly.

But still, I think I’ll ask for her number when she’s done.

Then again, she is carrying a gun.

My thoughts made me laugh out loud.

Another one of those moments, Mom would be so proud.

Yes, I must ask her for a date.

Perhaps they’ll let her walk me to my gate.

After all, it’s their freaking fault I’m late!

Here comes some official looking dude.

He begins pouring his apologies for the staff having been so rude.

Satisfied that I am who I say,

They give me property back, and say have a nice day.

But wait, I was just getting to the best part.

Surely this cute girl was about to say,

“Up against the wall, and spread your feet apart…”

Well crap, I guess now I’ll be on my way.

I just have this one last thing to say…

For all of you that have a vacation planned, be sure to have your gender ID papers in hand. Apparently having your license read F, and approaching Airport Security with short hair and no breasts, tends to trigger a bit of confusion to our FAA’s best.

By the way, that cutie said yes!

We’re on the beach right now, wearing nothing but smiles.

There’s certainly something to be said for frequent flyer miles!

RedMan

     Posted on Sun ,13/09/2009 by Daywalker

It was a cold and dreary night.
The road was slick from the rain and mud, character of a late winter.

I remember there were many people caught up in a line of traffic behind an accident. Their wipers going, blinkers flashing, trying to squeeze in where there was no room. There was the occasional driver that rode the shoulder to try to cheat their way up the line…but we were hip to that trick and blocked them! Then, there are those people who just get downright pissed off over the whole hassle of having to wait, and hit the gas as hard as they can once they are past the traffic jam.

Which brings me to my storyline…there was this one really special Dumb Ass that did just that; only in doing so…he managed to slip out of control at 80mph and slam into my vehicle. There were temporary feelings of pain, fear…then euphoria, as all I remember from that point was careening off of a raven. It felt like I was falling into heaven, only heaven plucked me out of the car just in time, and now I am on heavens payroll.

My assignment…? A traffic Reaper!

It would be my duty to serve and protect the living, on life’s busy roads and highways.

There is more than just myself on freeway patrol. Entire networks of reapers are out there with me every day. Our abilities to change little occurrences to assist and avoid traffic fatalities can be quite entertaining. Yes, we are visible to the living eye; and we are also able to identify each other by the bright yellow aura that float and surround ourselves and our vehicles. We give one another that wave of acknowledgement, like you see bus drivers give as they pass on their routes.

One Monday evening, out on I-5 as I was nearing the end of my patrol, I glanced over and spotted a black Cadillac. It was darting in and out of traffic at speeds unimaginable. Obviously this person was in a hurry to get somewhere, not likely to be somewhere important from my experience thus far. It wasn’t the alarming speed that caught my attention, so much as the strange red glow surrounding the car…and the driver. I did a double take, and sped up to get a glance at the driver. As I neared the side of the car, there seemed to be a very strong force pushing my car sideways…right into the other lanes! I switched lanes, carefully of course, and pulled up to the idiot. I did not recognize this guy at all…he was not part of my crew.

When he realized I was trying to keep up with him, he slowed a bit and looked over at me. My stomach dropped as horror rushed through my body. My face got really hot, and it took all I had just to breathe. Was I really seeing this? I looked away quickly, just in time to avoid hitting an eighty year old, changing lanes with the opposite side, blinker on of course. I sped up again to get another look. Do I dare? I have to…!

As I got closer, the driver slowed down once again, and moved to the lane next to mine. It seemed this time, he was trying to get another look at me! I slowly looked over, his red glow got so bright it almost blinded me. Through the glow, I could see his face…it was like that of a madman possessed from evil deep within him. It resembled the face of a demon, only the face was sort of shape shifting, and the extreme green eyes seemed to be piercing a hole right through me. It was that of the driver who crashed me into the afterlife…it was him. The Dumb Ass!

Suddenly I heard echoes of laughter that rang through my head, like an old Vincent Price movie. It was entrancing, and seemed to go on for an eternity…then it stopped very abruptly and I came out of the trance and found myself 10 miles outside of my beat, the RedMan in the Cadillac was gone.

I turned around at the next exit and headed home. I would be checking in with my superiors about this RedMan. It had to be a day dream or something. Would I embarrass myself if I started to babble on about this so called sighting? Would my peers understand, or would they just give me that look my mother used to give me when I told wild stories about how I had to climb atop the roof because the “Big Bugs” were gonna get me…?

Anyway, I decided to sleep on this one before I took on the task of making myself appear to look very stupid and a little crazy at that. I got home, listened for messages as I do every night, knowing there won’t be any…I mean, after all, I’m dead right? For a while after I passed on, I was getting the occasional call from collections agencies that didn’t have a clue, friends who didn’t call me enough to even know I was gone…and of course, the nice people at Time/Life Magazine wanting to know if I would like to renew my subscription. Why do that, when I have the luxury of making myself disappear at random…and now I just resort to picking up a copy from that nice little newspaper stand on the corner…and the guy who runs it thinks he is going crazy, as every couple weeks he sees a copy of Time/Life magazine go wandering down the street all by itself…it’s a real scream! Sometimes I think we were given these luxuries of disappearing, just to play with the minds of the living.

When I awoke the next morning, the first thing I thought of was the RedMan. He was in my dream…speeding down the highway, side-swiping everything he passed as I tried desperately to catch up with him…then suddenly he was heading in my direction with that grin on his face, and the echoes of laughter once again ringing through the air, getting louder and louder…until I woke up to a blood curdling scream…that turned out to be mine…as I shot out of bed drenched in sweat. I attempted to shake it off, walked into the bathroom and grabbed the first available towel from the floor. I was not exactly Hazel, if you know what I mean.

Dousing my face with cold water, I watched myself in the mirror…and noticed the look of content completely drained from my face. Then, the phone rang, something told me to go ahead and pick it up, even though no one on the other end is supposed to be able to hear me. I picked it up and listened for a second…

“Good morning…” the voice said, “Did you sleep well…?” it said, with a definite tone of sarcasm.

My heart began to pound uncontrollably as I realized the man on the other end was awaiting my response.

“Good morning…” I responded, feeling kind of stupid.

“Are you ready for today’s assignment…? I promise it will be a day you will not soon forget…” he said.

“Who the hell is this…? Who the hell are you…?” I demanded.

Then, all I heard was a dial tone. This isn’t happening to me. It has to be a side effect of the afterlife, my superiors left out of the matriculation manual! Well, this is it…I have had it! I just have to risk it now…I am paying a visit to the Main Station right now! This so called peaceful job just got really weird, and I do not wish to have any part of it…ok, like I have a choice, but still…it is time I found out what is really happening before it gets totally out of hand.

I had a little time on the way to the station for a couple of “side jobs”. Nothing too heavy, just your typical cell phone yuppie, eating a bagel and ignoring the traffic up ahead that had already come to a complete halt in a construction zone…a simple wave of my finger to make an abrupt disconnection of his call, and viola’…his attention was caught just in time for him to make an embarrassingly screeching halt inches before the line of vehicles. Easy stuff for me…not so easy on the driver’s brakes!

I then happened upon a rock and rollin’ teenager in a Trans-Am, very concerned about just how far that lit cigarette he dropped rolled under the seat, and at the same time, changing music in the CD player. With all that going on, how was he supposed to notice he had entered a school, where children crossing up ahead? Thinking quickly, I spotted a corner house with a very thick wall of hedges which someone put a lot of time into caring for and trimming up, oh so nicely. Perfect, I thought…a big grin rolled across my face as I waved my hand and pointed to his rear tire…causing a blow out, then I just sort of veered him right into those lovely hedges, before he knew what hit him. Excellent, this was enough to ease my tension just a bit, and draw an honest chuckle from my throat.

So, one last turn and I arrived into the parking lot of the Main Station. Stepping out of the car, I gave my nod of recognition to all those who glowed like me…relieved there were no stranger in Red wandering around the parking lot. Up the stairs I went…there were two huge golden doors that loomed at me from the top. I was still nervous, I noticed as I reached the top of the stairs…it all seemed to dissipate…strange, I thought.

A slight wind began to blow…almost in circles just before I pushed the doors open. I stepped in, and as the doors closed behind me…the entire building went pitch black. The sounds of the giant doors closing was still echoing in my ears…such a hollow sound…a sound that began to blend into a rhythmic beeping noise. Sounded like…a heart monitor…yes, that was it, it sounded like a goddamned heart monitor machine! It got louder and louder…enhancing the pitch black darkness I now stood in suspended animation upon. The beeping was now blending in with voices…and a commotion that seemed to bring the energy up to a feeling of death defying urgency! The voices got louder, and I could begin to make out what they are saying…with the beeping now fading to the background, I heard someone say

“Doctor…we got him back! We got him…hurry…”

I began to feel pain everywhere in my body, it seemed I hadn’t felt pain in so long, but now it was all I could feel! All in an instant, I was now being blinded by an extreme light, with yellow hues…it surrounded me, and I felt as though it was setting me down upon a table…yes! That is exactly what it was doing…! I thought my eyes were already open, but I realized then, they were not, because through the light, I began to open my eyes. I saw many people over me, some living, some not…but I saw them. A Doctor leaned over me and spoke to me…he asked if I remembered what happened…I just blinked at him a couple times, tears now rolling down the side of my face. Yes, I did remember…some Dumb Ass knocked my car off of a cliff in traffic…

Apparently, that Dumb Ass never made it back to life, but I did.

It was a few months before I could return to work, but when I did…I never appreciated being a Highway Patrolman more than I do now. Once in a while, I see a black Cadillac…and imagine I can see the RedMan driving…but truthfully, I have yet to pull up alongside of one since that night…the night I came back, and He did not.

Redman

The Blue Hue

     Posted on Mon ,07/09/2009 by Daywalker

It must have been sometime past midnight. I could tell because the moon and the street lamp always cast a certain shadow through the blinds around that time, a blue hue that purified the silence. I looked for clues like this to guide me past the level of “just a hunch,” while I’m on the beat. Telling time by the moon and the shadows is a certain asset known to some who have become permanent residents of the night shifts. On this early morning Sunday, the blue hue…became especially telling. That’s when the body came in.

The smell preceded it by at least 30 seconds. It was fresh, the smell was. When you have been a private detective…married to the County Coroner for as long as I have, you get to know the many varieties of “Death’s Aromas,” pretty good. My life partner, she’s the Coroner. Me…well, I’m the starving Investigative artist, in private contract form nowadays. I tend to hang out with her when she does the 3 month night shift rotation. I get to steal away some time with her, and get to be the first to see some of the bodies that are hauled in here, by the friendly Homicide guys and gals. I thought my P.I. business was rough…wouldn’t trade it, no Sir…no thanks. I don’t mind the crime scenes; it’s the taking orders and following procedures that I seem to be presenting in an uncompromising manner with. Nonetheless, I still have the first whiff of any case that rolls itself in here, and that is just one of the aforementioned advantages to my girls’ night shift.

On this particular night, there was something other than “Death’s Aroma,” that rode in on the breeze. I do believe it has heightened every hue, and cast a strange sense upon the shadows. It was almost like…they were cowering…away. I also noticed there seemed to be an extreme sense of urgency in the delivery guys’ moves to drop this body off and leave quickly. They were choking from the smell behind their masks; I thought for sure one of them was going to lose their last meal. The squeaky wheels of the gurney came to a halt. One of them shoved a clipboard at my girl to sign, and barely waited for her to finish before snatching it back up, They were gone faster than we could roll our eyes at them. “That was strange…” she said. “Indeed it was…don’t they usually try to hang out for a while and at least poke fun at the dead people’s hair. I’ve never seen those two before; new guys are always squeamish…” I shrugged, gave her a grin and we both snickered at them. “Usually they at least warn me when they’re sending in a couple of rookies. You never know when you’ll get a weirdo trying to get in here to drool over the carnage. Besides, I could have rolled out a couple of fresh autopsies for the occasion. I love doing that to the newbie’s.” She gave that evil little grin. I love when she makes me laugh at the morbid stuff like that. She snapped on the rubber gloves, and we both held our breath a bit to have a closer look. The smell was so overwhelming…I thought I’d pass out.

Just as I stepped forward, I heard a few loud crackles followed by a disturbing flicker of the blue hue through the blinds. I heard my girl gasp; only slightly startled. One final zap from outside, then suddenly everything went pitch dark…and quiet. I reached quickly…ok, fumbled in a slight panic…to my pocket, pulled out my zippo and flicked desperately, yet calmly until we had fire. Right away, I could see she wanted to chuckle at me for the ‘oh so gallant, yet clumsy’ scramble to step up in the lights out situation. I gave her that look, like…yeah, I know…but still you married me. She reached in her lab coat pocket and pulled out her mini-maglite, had it on in like one swift move. “Show off…” I mumbled to her now smirking face.

We managed to find a couple of candles, left over from a midnight romantic dinner on a night where there were no dead folks a rollin’ in. “Hey, why not use that handy little flashlight to light the candles…oh, wait…I guess now you’ll need this…hhhmmmm?” I said, smirking back at her and waving my zippo in a taunting manner of course. “You know…” she replies “…if there weren’t work to do right now, that cuteness of yours just might have gotten you laid…just saying.” I gave her a low sexy growl at the nape of her neck…and we broke apart quickly, knowing it just ain’t right to have living sex in front of the dead. We decided a long time ago that we would hate it if it happened to us when we reached this point of life, or…uh…death. Then she says “Ssshhhh…did you hear that?”

Her eyes went to a peculiar position, then rested upon the body in front of us. One of her eyebrows began to rise into a position that I was not yet familiar with. She stopped breathing, stepped back about two feet and said “Still…still alive…I think she’s still…alive”. In a somewhat slow motion movement, I followed her eyes in the direction of the body. Then, along with the sudden realization that she appeared to be correct…the sounds she was hearing began echoing throughout the room surrounding both of us. It was almost like when you held your ear up close to a giant sea shell, and you could hear the faint sounds of waves crashing upon the shore and cliff sides…only there seemed to be distress reaching out through the echoes. My eyes were as transfixed to the body, as my ears were to the sounds. I swear, I could hear voices…distorted and distant, but they were there. Much to my astonishment, there was indeed life in this room besides that of the presumed, that of me and my girl. I didn’t move a muscle…as I gazed upon the charcoaled body that seemed to lay so still, and yet…I could hear the breathing; it was so dark and shallow.

For some odd reason, I reached out to touch the body. Just before my fingers could reach the surface of the chest, a noise in the corner of the room caused both of us to shatter our trance and jolt our heads in that direction. “What the hell was that…?” I asked.

Before she could answer me with an “Idon’t know,” there was a huge flash of blue, and what appeared to be…fog, rolling from the corner and into the room. Instinct set in as I placed my arm out towards my girl, and motioned for her to step back behind me a bit. Still, neither of us blinked or uttered a word; slightly petrified as we watched the fog fill up the room. We seemed to be fixated on the blue hues that were mostly solid now, with the occasional flicker and zap. A wicked wind howled through, blowing…sand, for hells sakes…all over the floor of the lab.

Then all of the sudden, I heard the sound of seagulls, distant but distinct…then a shadow began to form through the blue. There were wings first, just the shadows of them though…then those wings disappeared, giving way to the full form of something…someone. It was a woman! She was short and really, really old…creeping through the blue, towards us! A tattered and soiled black veil traced behind the short woman, who walked slowly and hunched with a curiosity that was surely meant to freeze all those who stood upon the sand that had howled in on the wind with her.

My head was pounding…with her presence. Like marching…it sounded like…marching. This marching in my head…couldn’t have been that of the Saints. It had to have been that of the wayward, servants of a Demon whose brains were washed upon her shores with tales of wicked sand and promising sounds emerging from the evil seagulls. Sometimes my imagination distracted me, but this…was not my imagination.

She floated closer until it was just the three of us, as she began hovering above this char-coaled body. She looked up at us; her eyes gave off a deep cobalt blue glow. Her head moved slightly to the right, inquisitive like…then her hand came up, pointing a long crooked finger that looked…well, as black as ashes…at us and said “Do…not…look into the eyes of this one,” her shaky old voice reverberated off the walls “she was not meant to be the task of the Coven…” The Coven, I thought…? What does she mean…the task of’…? She continued, though it’s not like we were about to interrupt her at this point. “Poor, poor girl…” a black drip of something just left the corner of this old woman’s eye “There is an order, and that order must be followed.

A beach party, she was told. Poor, poor girl…she thought she was going to a party. Her innocence…was shattered long ago; she was no good to me this way…why they Chant to me words of no meaning…how dare they Chant in my name…” The old woman reached down and stroked the few strands of singed hair that were left upon this young girl’s charcoaled body. I felt my girl reach slyly behind me and squeeze my hand so hard I thought it would fall off. I squeezed it back, mostly to let her know that I too, was seeing and hearing the same things she was. A cry let out of this old woman, a shriek that deafened my mind with the same pain she released with this sound of fury. Still, the light…the blue hue was flickering with a wicked vengeance from the corner. She looked at us again, pointing that old creepy finger and said “Do not look into her eyes. She is a wrongful sacrifice, my dearest living friends…and she was lit a fire in the name of Purity…for my taking.” She looked down, as if in pain “She was not pure…she was not…pure. She was taken already, long ago. She was taken…too young, by a wayward group unlike her…by foes of the oceans, by Friends of the Fire…” Her shriek pierced the room, and at the very mention of…she pointed to the ceiling, we looked up and caught a glimpse of her visions…of how this body between the three of us ended up here on this early Sunday morning.

I saw a group of people gathering around a giant beach bonfire, chanting as they each touched the ends of their torches to the wood. There in the middle, tied and bound…was the woman…that now laid here dead, yet breathing. She cried out, this woman did…and no one listened. They just kept on chanting, their long robes dragging the sand behind them in a slow clockwise direction around the now well lit fire. I couldn’t tell you how long we had been staring into this vision. It was far to0 long for me, no matter how short.

The old woman broke the vision apart before our very eyes, then she said “When the burning of the flesh was exhausted, the Friends of the Fire entitled themselves to the soul of a false sacrifice…intending on delivering it to me in the name of The Oceans Purity…” her head flew back slowly as she let out a shriek, then a few shrills that would surely never leave my mind. My hand was fused to my girls’ hand now, even through the slippery sweat that started some time back. A sudden flutter caused me to blink, but just once…and out from behind this old creepy woman appeared two giant black wings. She rose a few feet, as if to get her glowing cobalt blue eyes closer to ours, and hovered in mid air.

”You people…” she said accusingly, her figure shifting with mild emotion “with your machines and technology of the living…keeping the Reapers alive…” she gave us a tsk-tsk look “don’t you know? You don’t know…do you?” She looked adoringly at us, then at the body “With one look into the eyes of this frailty, it is said a curse would linger dormant until just the right moment, when pain could inflict itself in the direction of those who struck the match…the match that burned her eyes, but not her soul…the match that was struck because this ritual called for purity, and she lacked of this purity from a very early age…only, they didn’t know. They have cast a heavy shadow upon the waters.”

The old woman’s cobalt blues went to a shade that was closer to…a set of black holes “She…can use your eyes. She can live inside of your souls, and lead you to those who showed her no mercy, who showed her…her demise. She would cast them out…through your eyes, for her soul…to a place…” her voice grew hollow and deeper. She looked as though she knew of this place she was describing, “Where snowflakes fall, but never land…they are afraid. Where the roses bloom, but never die…they disguise the thorns, but seize then…your eyes. Where the ivy creeps, but never ends…it simply strangles all with whom it surrounds…within…that place.”

I think I actually shuddered just then. What does this old woman want from us? Why does she loom over us in the blue and the fog, telling us of tales we surely should not be privy to? I started to speak, and let these questions roll off my now tied up tongue, but she let out one of those damned shrieks again, flapped those big black wings a couple of times…then continued .

“I have come here to release this soul from the duties that are not hers to bear the burden of…she is not pure, by no fault of her own soul…but by the fault of the wayward ones…that took it when she was just a child. She shall have solace in my Oceans from this day to eternity. There are others who shall take her place on this night.” She looked at my girl, and motioned a ghostly shadow stroke softly upon her cheek “Don’t you worry my pretty living one, they will not crowd your dwelling…these souls will be…all mine.” “You are a believer, yes…I can see that…but, your God…your God doesn’t live here.”

She motioned toward the blue light in the corner, now flickering stronger and louder than before, “this place is the Otherness; it is the place just beyond where the blue of the Ocean ends and the edge of the sky cannot reach…it is not for Him…or I…to choose who goes there, but He, your God…waits just outside for those who would take a mindful turn, and choose willingly to repent their chants and cheers for the fire to rise higher upon this poor, poor girls’ soul…and soon…He will have her soul too…for listen my Children when I tell you.”

She pointed that crooked finger at both of us, squinted her cobalt blues and continued. “I am the Oceans Daughter, and I shall oversee the delivery of this soul…in the name of purity, I shall deliver this soul.” The old woman allowed us a moment to soak it all in, then she looked at us and gave…an almost angelic gaze, cradled the charcoaled body into her arms, and began to recede into the blue and through the fog. In an electric moment, she had disappeared. All I could hear were the sounds of seagulls, waves…and the old woman’s giant black wings stroking through the fog.

True were the stories I had always read when I was young. Ominous and ever present were the forces that would stand against all evil to save the souls of the gullible and lonely.

The only part I was left confused about was…in the name of who and what?

Suddenly, a surge of blue came flickering through the blinds. The flickering…awoke me. My girl was talking to me; I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. She was tapping lightly on my cheek, and rubbing my chest a little.

“Honey…? Are you awake? Are you all right…?” As I opened my eyes, I could see her smiling at me…there was a ceiling fan above her head. What the hell was I doing on the floor? I jumped up in a panic and looked frantically around the room. The old woman, the fog…the seagulls, were all gone. Hell, the body was gone too! Wait…wait just a second…was it all just a dream? “Where’s the body…the..the…body, it was right there all burnt up, and…and the old woman…are you all right?”

My eyes were all wide-eyed wild, shooting around the room and into the corners…and she looked at me like I had just lost my mind. Then she shook her head, gave me that smile and asked, “Have you been into the reefer again today…?” she rolled her eyes, threw me my keys and said “Take me home, Butch…I can’t believe you tripped and fell in the dark, you’re usually so good finding your way…through the dark.” she winked at me, kissed me on the cheek and rubbed me on the head, ruffling my hair all messy. I grumbled a little because I hate when she does that, but mostly because…I just couldn’t believe it was all… just a freaking dream.

We walked to her car through the parking lot, and it occurred to me “Hey…wait. Why are we going home so early, it can’t be the end of your shift yet…right?” I gave my best ‘perplexed’ look; apparently I was still in a fog…and she said “Oh…well, the power went out all over the city, so they re-routed those two new drivers to a Coroner just outside the city. We won’t be seeing those idiots again tonight…I can’t believe they actually lost a body…how one just loses a body is beyond me…”

Her words trailed off as my focus drifted up to the blue hue of the street lamp. “Hey, how come this light is still on? I thought you said the power was out…” She looked up at it, shrugged and said “I don’t know, it came on just before you woke up from you little nap…” she chuckled “…that was priceless by the way. Now, how about you just get in the car and we’ll talk about your suspicions of the big scary blue light when we get home.”
Now, she was just making fun of me. Finally, I gave out a big grin, and decided she was right.

We got in the car, I put the keys in and she reached over to tap on my watch. “That’s weird…” she said. “What…did it stop again?” I turned it over to look, and just as the street lamp flickered its blue over the glass…my stomach sank, and my mouth went dry.

She says “No…it works, but…” she paused “How did sand get in there…?”

Blue Hue

Blind Crush

     Posted on Fri ,04/09/2009 by Daywalker

Blind_to_us_by_SmxDeadlyDesignz
I can hear the gravel crush

Beneath the hooves
Beneath the buggy

A deer rustles the leaves of an Oak tree

A fawn opens it’s eyes
Connecting with life, for the very first time

Just to be taught the lessons
of a hunter and the hunted

The universe connects itself
Once again, the Earth spins

Blind as a bat
I can hear the night
Crossing the air that thins

I can hear the drop of a pin
I can hear your thoughts of sin

I can hear what you can’t see

Yes, that’s right…even the steel breeze

Never second guess
the sounds of fear

Otherwise you may not live
to see what I hear

Do not pity thee
Tomorrow you may envy me


The 9 Words: Crush ~ Connecting ~ Hunt ~ Guess ~ Oak ~ Opening ~ Deer ~ Crossing ~ Buggy

~ DW ~

9 -4-09

He Said…

     Posted on Thu ,03/09/2009 by Daywalker

Titled: He Said…..

The greener grass made head way to the top of the mountain.
That is where the child was found,
sitting upon the jagged rocks that cliffed the mountain.
Against the wind, I walked toward the child.

He spoke to me.


He said there was a terrible day in history
that led him to question many things.
He said one day when he looked up to smile at the sky,
his innocence was shattered by a falling martyr.
He said his goodbyes.


The vision that was once so blue, went dark for
everyone…even the fools, he said.
The assassination of his innocence, the falling sky took out his eyes.
He still see’s, he said…and he still cries.


He said the questions are futile, so he stopped asking why.
He said the birds became fanatics, and now they refuse to fly.


He drew a line in the dirt, and pointed the stick to one side.
This is where it came from, he said…then pointed the stick to the other side.
This is where my family died,
and this is where I learned how hard…I could cry.


So I am here now, he said.
This is where I can hear the angels fly.


His dedication to tell the story,
reminds me of a Prophets reason not to tell a lie.


He said, why not join me…let us sit together and cry.
And tomorrow you can tell the story.
And tomorrow, you shall not ask why.


The 9 Words used:

Sacrifice Assassination Dedication Futile Fanatic Terrible Martyr Fools History

A Satire Project ~

     Posted on Wed ,02/09/2009 by Daywalker

Ok, the assignment on this project was to write a funny article highlighting your local news or home town papers as inspiration.

So, I turned Satire and Parody into a living breathing article.

Monrow County Semi-Annual Daily News Express


It’s that time of year again folks!

We’d like to take a moment to thank the winners of this year’s Grand Prize in
the “I’m In the News!” Contest!

There were a lot of good folks who qualified, and the decision was tough as
there were only 5 spots available in the Grand Prize all expense paid trip for
a 6 week stay at the newly renovated Willow Springs Rehabilitation Center,
meals included.

For those who did not win, remember there is always next year!

Our first two Grand Prizes will go to the Rapper Family for the following article:

On Sunday morning a domestic dispute turned to violence when an argument ensued over an Eggo Waffle at the home of Daisy and Rupert Rapper located at Jaybird’s Motel in room number nine. The police said that Daisy, age 42, told the husband of two of her children, Rupert, age 59, to “Leggo my Eggo…” at approximately 8:00 am. He refused to leggo her Eggo, and that’s when things got out of hand. There was a scuffle and the Eggo was torn in two, fell onto the floor, and the dogs ate them…police reported. Neighbors say that is when Daisy grabbed the favorite of her two children with Rupert, and made a break for the truck with the remainder of the box of Eggo’s. Neighbors say Daisy refused to yield as Rupert jumped upon the hood of the vehicle. “She just plum backed up and then rolled over poor old Rupert…” said Randy Hooker, age 39, a resident of Jaybird’s Motel for 11 years now. “He just lay there in the gravel bleeding and everything, then she just plum took off swerving all over and what not, so that’s when I called you all…” Hooker said. Rupert Rapper was taken to a local hospital where he received treatment for road rash, cuts and abrasions, and an apparent blow to the back of the head received by a toaster was also sustained in the incident. Daisy Rupert was pulled over just yonder near Rears End Ranch and arrested for aggravated assault with a kitchen appliance, reckless endangerment of her favorite child, no registration or insurance, failing to yield for cattle, and failure to pass a back forty field sobriety test. The trial is set for this Wednesday, which is the anniversary of Daisy and Rupert Rapper. Rupert said in an interview at the drug store just later that day “I just can’t press charges with Daisy and all, and I’m going to ask her to be my wife again…”


The third Grand Prize will go to Randy Hooker for the following article:

On Sunday afternoon Randy Hooker was taken into custody for possession of stolen property. While police were interviewing Hooker after he called in a domestic dispute involving his neighbors Daisy and Rupert Rapper located at Jaybird’s Motel room number nine, they noticed a suspicious amount of vinyl siding inside his home, also located at Jaybird’s Motel. When the police asked to take a look inside, Hooker refused. A warrant was obtained by Judge B. A. Sleep, who was located in the room next door apparently visiting distant relatives. Minutes later they raided Hooker’s room and found all of the property listed as stolen last week by his brother Harry Hooker, age 47, owner of Hooker’s Hardware Depot. The property found included a horse drawn plow, some 20 pieces of tin scrap metal, 43 cans of used spray paint apparently matching the color of Hooker’s mustache, 8 cans of unused spray paint cans in fluorescent colors, 32 bottles of Elmer’s glue, 29 bottles of White Out, an undetermined amount of vinyl siding, and several antique model tractors with riding Barbie Dolls that Harry Hooker, Randy’s brother, had displayed proudly in the front window of Hooker’s Depot. Also recovered was the remaining portions believed to belong to the prize winning pig from this year’s County Fair that was reported missing just weeks ago. The value of the stolen property was estimated to be worth at least $3,500 not including the remainder of the pig, whose value was reportedly estimated at some $10,000 before it was portioned out. Hooker could receive up to 1 year if the pig’s value combined with Hooker’s merchandise goes over $10,000 making it a felony charge. The Court date will be set for Friday, leaving plenty of time for the staff to clean up after Daisy and Rupert Rapper renew their vows on Thursday afternoon. The combined value of the stolen loot will be determined by Judge B. A. Sleep after his distant relative, Marjorie, age 53, checks out of Jaybird’s by 11:00 am on Thursday.


The fourth Grand Prize will go to Deputy Skyler Miles for the following article:

On Monday afternoon Monrow County issued a search warrant for the home of the McCoy family. There was a tip off that the McCoy’s might have miscalculated during a drug deal Sunday night. The anonymous tipper reported that he was shorted nearly one whole ounce when he purchased a pound of marijuana for personal use Sunday night at approximately 11:30 pm. This was the third report of shortages in less than a month, a representative from Monrow County Police said during an interview with her and her Mother’s boyfriend, who was just there for moral support, on Monday morning. First on the scene was Deputy Skyler Miles, who immediately detected suspicious activity upon entering the property when confronted by a drive-through gate asking him to make his menu choice of 16 flavors and then some, and the voice from the speaker box asked him to pull forward and to have his cash ready. When Deputy Miles made his choice and pulled away from the drive through, he stopped just outside the gate, retrieved his personal scales from the trunk of his patrol car that he says he carried just in case and realized he had indeed been shorted. The State Weights and Measures Division confirmed that Deputy Mile’s scale was indeed calibrated accurately, and that the McCoy’s were in violation of the Intent to Distribute Quantities Below County Standards Act mandated in 1932 when the Hatfield’s -vs- McCoy’s Trial set an unprecedented milestone for the rights of consumers. Deputy Skyler Miles will receive special recognition for his bravery, and it is rumored there will be a Parade for Deputy Miles scheduled next for some time next month. The Mile’s Family has asked that gifts and appreciations be given only to Mrs. Miles until such time she deems it safe to administer her newly recovered husband synthetically altered substances again. Deputy Mile’s could not be reached for comment, but his probation officer reports that he is doing fine and should be sober in time for the Appreciation Ceremonies.

The fifth and final Grand Prize goes to Mr. C. R. Havoc for the following article:

Late Tuesday morning the Monrow County 911 operator, Mary First, age 39, a single Libra that owns her own car, dispatched emergency services to the intersection of Low and Behold after receiving several calls for help over a 3 hour period from the same man reporting an accident. The calls came in from Mr. C. R. Havoc, age 43, a single Aries, who owns his own cell phone free and clear. The caller, Mr. Havoc, reported seeing several squirrels gathered suspiciously near his home as he rode his motorcycle around Loopy Lake after a visit to his friend’s house on the McCoy’s property. The next call also came from Mr. Havoc, reporting suicidal squirrels running across the road. The squirrels, according to Havoc, were also spotted allegedly carrying several baggies of marijuana and rolling a keg of beer back and forth over Loopy Lake Bridge. Another call came in, also from Mr. Havoc, who reported seeing the squirrels giving each other several high fives whilst laughing at motorists as they attempted to swerve away from dangerous curves, avoiding the perpetrating squirrels. The final call came in, from Havoc again; who called out in pain for Geico’s 1-800 number and asked for assistance as he and his motorcycle were now wrapped around a tree with squirrels surrounding him from all sides. Havoc reported the squirrel’s had already taken his shoes, and were now tugging at his pants legs which would leave him pant less. That is when Mary First, age 39, a single Libra who owns her own car but it’s in the shop right now…sprung into action and dispatched for assistance right away, just after calling her friend for a ride over to Low and Behold just in time to see Mr. Havoc lose his shirt. While she tended to Havoc’s situation, they apparently hit it off and just before Emergency Services’ Life Flight arrived, and Havoc proposed to First. The ceremony will be held at the Monrow County Court House in conjunction with the vow renewal of local residents Mr. and Mrs. Rapper on Thursday. The impending couple reports that they will be saving hundreds of dollars on their insurance once they are married and get a joint policy. The squirrels managed to hinder the investigation by disappearing in the direction of Loopy Lake, causing the hounds to lose the scent trail. No charges were filed.

Congratulations to our winners!
We’ll see you all in 6 weeks!
BYOB



I used an 8 page local rag from a surrounding County for my comical spring board.

Then I took a spin on it, ’cause I just couldn’t narrow it down to one funny spin.
There were just too many news articles to morph into my own,
so there you have it.

12 Fingers

     Posted on Mon ,31/08/2009 by Daywalker

I was given the Topic ‘Tire Swings’ to bounce off of, and this is what came out:

I kept hearing the sounds of children chanting off in the distance, every time the man spoke to me.

His eyes told stories that his words could not imagine. There was a time when this man was a little boy. He played in the driveway of the middle-class home he grew up in. He always waited for the postman, just so he could frantically wave, in hopes the wave would be returned. Bouncing the ball up and down the sidewalk, he would smile all the way to the playground…where he would wait for the other kids to include him in their fun and games. Something happened to that little boy, something that changed him forever.

I lit up a cigarette, and leaned back in my chair a little more. I could tell this was going to be a long visit. The man looked at my smoke, and asked with his eyes if he could have one too.  I looked over at the Prison Guard, who nodded his permission back at me. I lit the smoke for the man, and tucked my lighter back into my pocket. Wasn’t allowed to leave it on the table, but something told me this man was not a fire risk. His troubles go much deeper. It was my job to find out how deep.

He spoke with a monotone voice, and presented with a solemn disposition. His dark eyes, and leathered face…told of the years unkind. So unkind, that he was found in the back of a park, wrapped up in newspaper to keep warm. All of his belongings consisted of what he wore, and what was in the borrowed shopping cart from the grocers down the street. I heard the grocers decided to drop the theft charges…gee, wasn’t that nice of them. I watched as the man tried to smoke with the 2 fingers he had left on his right hand. Frostbite, he told the others…but I suspected that wasn’t the case. The scars on the top of his hands told me otherwise. All of a sudden, the man looked up at me…with a tear streaming down his face.

He said, “Why are you staring at my hands…?”

 

Honest as I am, I answered “Don’t look like frost-bite to me is all…”.

He looked at me for a second, and the hint of a smirk showed up across his face. “You’re right.” he said, “You wanna know how they got this way? I got the time if you do. Besides, these hands are the reason I am here

 

Stunned at the response, I sat back up a bit.

Yes, I have all the time they will give me. Can I get you something to drink?”

Another smirk, almost a smile…appeared at the request.

Kool-aid. I want Kool-aid. It makes me feel young again…”

I had the kitchen bring up the closest thing to Kool-aid, and waited for the man to wet his whistle.

I was young once you know. A nice kid, with a nice home. Nice parents. But the other kids, they weren’t so nice to me.” His eyes dropped to the table. “They didn’t like me. They didn’t like kids that look like sissy’s, and they all the time picked on me.” He sipped on the Kool-aid, and without blinking he said, “So one day, my Mom went to the playground and told them to leave me alone. She meant well…she even talked to a few of their parents. It didn’t stop, it just got worse, but then…I couldn’t tell my Mom anymore, because…” He swallowed hard “…they said they would hurt me.”

A look of horror took over his face. I could tell he was remembering…whatever they did to him, it wasn’t good. I lit him another smoke, and placed the lighter dutifully back in my pocket. Silly really, what’s he gonna do…tackle me and light my hair on fire? Well, shit…now that thought really could have gone by without me. Now I was worried about him lighting my hair on fire. Guess it really wasn’t that silly after all.

He struggled to compose himself; he really needed to tell this story. I cleared my mind, and cleared my throat. “What happened to your hands…was it because...” He shot a look at me that meant to quiet me. It did. He looked at the scars, and the mutilation of what was left of the fingers. Again, tears of silence ran down his rugged face.

It was them. They did it. Bastards took away my life!” His voice raised a bit, but the demeanor never changed. “All I wanted was to play on that stupid tire swing. I waited my turn and all…” He took another sip of Kool-aid. “…But when I climbed up on it, they all ran over and started yelling at me to get off...”

His face now showing the horror of the moment I was about to hear.

They said it wasn’t my turn yet. I yelled back, for the first time ever. I wouldn’t get off of it. It was my turn…” there was a wince, as his eyes pleaded for the memory to go away.

 

They started surrounding me. All of them, all of the kids. Even the nice ones were gathered around to watch. They tried to pull me off, but I grabbed onto the chains of the tire swing just as hard as I could. So…they began turning the tire. They were spinning it so fast, I never had a chance to get my hands out of the chains as it began to flip and turn out of control. I can still hear the kids chanting at me. The only thing that faded the fuckin’ little bastards voices out...” He lifted his hands, and animated the motion of his missing fingers…”…was the sound of my fingers breaking off from my hand. I told them it didn’t hurt. I told them that I was gonna tell this time. I told them…I would get them back for this, if it was the last thing I did!”

He stopped for a second, his eyes swollen from tears…his bottom lip quivering.

I got the little bastards…didn’t I…? It took 3 people to get my hands free from the tire swings rusted old chains. The little bastards took off with my fingers, so we couldn’t find them in time…. to save them. Now, I hope they have a good old time looking for theirs!”
Silence filled the cell…I think it was 3 cigarettes later that he finally was able to tell me more.

My parents…they split up. They were all the time arguing over the doctors bills, and my Mom, she got really depressed because she kept thinking she could have helped. She helped all right…but she didn’t mean for this to happen.” He looked up at me with the saddest smile and said; I remember hearing my Dad arguing with the school over the tire swing. I can still hear the chains squeaking at it took its last swings that day. Back and forth…back and forth…until it finally stopped.” He looked down again…and said sweetly “My Mom…she died after my Dad left us all alone. The last thing I remember him saying was ‘who’s gonna hire a freak like him. He can’t even pick his goddamned nose right’…bastard, I still had enough fingers left to do that.

He actually snickered at his own words. His words flowed so calmly, considering the heinous acts that brought him to this musty cell.

I told them…I told them I would get them back. I lived in that park for the last 12 years, just waiting for the right time. The school closed up, and they made the playground into a park. That old tree that the tire swing was hanging from…” He chuckled and let out a big sigh…”If you go there, you will find what you are all looking for. There are 12 fingers. Three from each of the little bastards that took mine away. One…for each year I had to live in that fuckin’ park. Fair is fair, right? I mean, it wasn’t like I didn’t tell them who I was, and why their fingers were wrapped up in an old rusty chain…about to break off from their bastard little hands.”

It was nightfall by the time I got home.

The police went to the park, and found all 12 fingers wrapped up in a towel, inside of a Kool-aid drink box. By the time they got the fingers back to their rightful owners, it was too late to put them back on. Can’t say that saddened me, the fact is…I was kinda glad they lost them. The man is now serving a minimal sentence in a correctional facility just south of here. I still visit with him. I spoke with a friend of mine that is doing some pro-bono procedures to help reconstruct his hands. He told me last week, that he can finally pick his nose like a real man. I wish his father was still around to see this, he would have been so very proud…the bastard. I spoke to another friend of mine about this man. When he is released from the facility, there is a job lined up for him.

He will be a maintenance worker…in the park.

 

Keeping Groovy Alive…

     Posted on Mon ,31/08/2009 by Daywalker

Daywalker

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 – |**