Pains, unspoken

tattooed

dark scars

buried beneath

running through

your cellular veins

have no mercy

till their ignited,

burning flames

strung and choke

your life out of you,

if you just scratch

the wounds

on the surface

Fear, hidden

deep within

sleeping like a baby

but boils unrest

under the skin

suddenly explodes

unless

therapy intervenes

Therapy, medicinal

a healthy way to live

with full

reconciliations,

without resentment

therapeutic candle light

otherwise,

destruction is

all you’d achieve

MidnightInk (10/4/2018)

Once up on a time,

I was a Man of pristine morals.

Even though I wouldn’t say

I am holding that prestige today,

I was a Man of pristine morals!

Once up on a time!

I cannot recall the day

I crossed the grey line, and

ended up

where I’m standing today.

But, once upon on a time,

I was a Man of pristine morals—

Pristine, like the clear blue sky.

Now, I no longer obviate my mind

from taking its own flight,

down a dangerous and spiral road.

But, once upon on a time,

I was a Man of pristine morals,

pristine, like a child’s eyes.

.................................................

MidnightInk (7/14/2018)

Just in a blink of an eye,

This lady in red

made me feel

Like I could fly.

She knows no limits,

she knows Tango dance

Yet she is in doubts of

Her heart’s flaming romance.

Tonight, she looks hot

Like the moon’s on fire

She wore seduction on her skin

To kill fools with desire.

I’m told the night is young

And it is glowing, fiercely ignited,

Like the rainbow in the sky

I wish I could see those colors

But my eyes are quite shy,

For she is inside my thoughts,

Inside my head

For I’m color blinded

And only see a lady in red

MidnightInk (11/4/2017)

I am crucified for my religion,

I am crucified for my skin color,

I am crucified for my economic status,

I am crucified for my beliefs,

My body and soul are condemned,

with atrocious strives

They’re preaching falsehoods, a disguised truth

Words of lies and deceits, for their own indulgence

But I am deaf of hearing, the poisons they spray

So, I am hunted and killed, for not looking their way

I am crucified for my free mind,

I am crucified for my thoughts,

I am forced to exile, to places not home,

A country man, without a country,

I am so terrified, each time the winds roam

I run, far away from the monsters,

but still nowhere to hide,

For my new home is the same,

for humans still live inside

If every where I lived,

my being is not suited, or posed a threat,

I would rather be exiled or crucified,

than being engulfed,

with the fire of bigotry or hate

I thought I was a servant.

One who responded to any beck and call

Until my character was made real to me,

that I'm not a good one at all

My desire to be kind or good or thoughtful had selfish aims.

Making tallies of all the deeds I've done to make a better name.

Then God began to expose me, revealing all my flaws

Everytime I performed an act of service,

I bumped into a law

My motive for serving was wrong to start

but now through Christ I see

I am here to serve others through Him,

allowing His love to shine through me.

Mama walks with

short, shaky steps

crunching

fallen leaves.

Her struggling breath

rattles

through her lungs

like wind across the trees.

She gently lays

a gnarled hand on wrinkled bark

whose branches are near bare

and tears

slip

down her face

betraying all her fear.

Mama is like autumn

stubbornly holding on

each day slowly

letting go

'til winters frost is come.

A blizzard thrums just outside the palace walls today, a little earlier than expected. Winter has struck fast and hard, but King David is unperturbed. This, as all things, will eventually blow over. As it is, he’s content to be inside for the moment, tending to the issues at hand. There is always much to be done at Sunshine Palace.

David strokes his chin and stands up from his throne, ushering forth his right-hand man, Sylvester, who has been waiting patiently in his usual spot by the door. Sylvester is a lion, but his English is fluent and his strategies are always well thought-out. He’s been beside King David for what feels like his whole life, and today will be no different.

“Sylvester, we have a lot to do today,” David says. He clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace in front of his throne. “The Ogres are unhappy again. They say that all the fishsticks we’ve sent them have helped a lot, but they’re still very hungry. They miss the days of being able to eat people whenever they want.”

“Oh my goodness,” Sylvester exclaims. “That is a problem!”

“Yes,” David answers, pausing to stroke his chin once more. “I suppose we will have to send them burgers now. It will cost more money and I will not be able to have as many burgers for myself anymore, but at least the people of Sunshine Valley will be safe.”

“That’s a great idea, Sir!” Sylvester agrees, nodding his giant, lion head. He licks his front paw.

“Now, the next thing we need to talk about are the fairies,” David continues, taking to pacing once more. “They’re very cute, but their dust is getting everywhere, and people are sneezing all over the place. What can we do?”

It is at this moment that Wanda the Whale enters the room, swishing her long, gray tale into the throne room looking rather upset.

“What is it, Wanda?” David asks, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyelids droop a little, and he realizes that he is growing a little bit tired. It’s been quite a long day.

“Oh, King David! We are under attack!” Wanda cries, flapping her fins in earnest. “The Queen of Dark is coming to ruin the whole day and maybe even the rest of the week with her evil Nighttime spell! If she succeeds, the entire Kingdom will have to sleep forever!”

David has always been good at responding to a crisis, and today is no different. “Okay Wanda, calm down,” he urges. “How long until the Queen gets here?”

“Super soon!” Wanda answers before collapsing unconscious onto the carpeting in front of David’s throne. David gestures to the two guards standing on either side of the door to help Wanda up and carry her out of the room. One of them is a bear named Barry who always wears his brown vest and the other is Hiss the Snake, who unfortunately doesn’t have any arms and wouldn’t be able to properly fit into a vest of any kind.

Sylvester is looking expectantly at David, waiting for his next words. He knows they will be very important.

“Sylvester,” David says, his expression grave. “We must prepare the cannon.”

By the time the cannon has been properly set up and aimed, David can hear the Queen of Dark approaching just outside the walls of Sunshine Palace. The Queen of Dark has proven to be their most worthy adversary, so King David decides that he will shoot the cannon himself. After all, they only have one cannonball. David tenses behind the cannon, waiting for the Queen.

She appears a moment later, and it all happens very fast. David only hesitates for a second before he lets the shot go. The cannonball soars through the air and hits the Queen right in her chest, and she screams in surprise.

“Oh David, you got me!” she proclaims, clasping both hands over her heart and falling to her knees.

“Hah!” David shouts, pumping a fist into the air in triumph. Because of him, everyone in Sunshine Valley is safe from the Nighttime Spell.

A moment later, David runs to the Queen of Dark where she kneels, letting her fold him into a giant hug. She scoops him up in her strong arms and carries him straight past his throne before lowering him gently onto his big, blue bed. David groans.

“Aw come on,” the Queen says, brushing his hair back from his face. “You know it’s Nighttime.”

“I’m not tired!” King David insists, even as his mouth opens in a big, wide yawn.

“Well how’s this then?” the Queen asks, pulling back the comforter so that David can slide beneath it. “How’s about I read you a story first? Just one story though, and then off to bed, okay?”

“Okay,” agrees David. He waits patiently while the Queen helps Sylvester, Wanda, Barry, and Hiss take their proper places on either side of their King, and he wiggles a little more snugly beneath his sky-colored blanket. He glances up at the Queen.

“Can we read the one about the boy who goes to the island and finds all the big monsters?” he asks. “And then he becomes King of everyone but then he goes home and eats supper?”

“That one again?” his Mom chuckles, the thin, colorful book already tucked beneath her arm. She settles down on the bed beside her little King , mindful not to sit on top of Sylvester, and opens up to the first page. She clears her throat and begins to read:

“The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another, his mother called him a Wild Thing…”

Eternity

I’m among a zillion stars

Burning embers in the universe

Space isn’t cold

I’m comfortable

Time doesn’t exist

A soothing voice is calling me

Beckoning me

I’m not anxious

I must go

Drifting away toward eternity

Remember me but don’t miss me

I’m going home