My Blog

Battleground

Deborah — Sun, 29 Apr 2007 02:27:17 GMT

Battleground No one ever said it was easy turning seventeen But the patience of a dozen saints stand beside us As we try to raise you. Static electricity in the air, Raising the hair on our arms, Warning of lightning strikes to come. The thunderclap of a dozen doors slamming. They’re always slamming. Because there is anger in the fuse lit, Burning too close to the dynamite cap. Danger in a nitro bottle shaken too violently. Fury in knuckles split wide Plugging holes in drywall, Venting frustrations On mattress pads and couch cushions. Softly now, please The warning signs have fallen to the floor. Hid their faces from the noon day sun Where shrapnel can fly unseen. Apocalypse is in a constant threat of falling here. This house, ground zero for a nuclear cloud. I know, trust me, Every teenager feels the same way. Time changes, but nothing really changes. Does it. Mount Saint Helens is always swelling. Vasuvious spits toxic clouds, As fire lions race water like down it’s side. And counting to ten, Never really helped anyone, ever. The world may be full of color, But you’ll always see it in black and white. Can and can’ts. And the doors are still slamming. Mini earthquakes Rolling through the floorboards. We both learned the same lessons early. Tears signal weakness And anger strengthens resolve. But haven’t you tired of making others cry, Shattering atoms by the fist fulls. Every teen is a natural born disaster But you take pleasures in the fires of war. We, but convenient outlets. The blast zone for your missiles Meant for other targets. It will get better, I promise. Your battlefields, now littered with bodies Can grow once more. So, reset the timers if you can. Remove the fuses. Lay the sticks beside the nitro, on a back shelf, High enough to be forgotten. It’s hard I know, But wastelands, are unrecoverable.

The meanings of poems vary for each. Tell me what you see

Deborah — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 20:13:55 GMT

Dishes There is a satisfaction in the sound of dishes breaking In the sight of fragments Skittering across linolium floors. Potential mindfields to overcome As pieces are gathered together once more The package arrived from home Bits of my heritage snug inside. At the bottom, a turkey platter from my mom. Broken in a dozen pieces. He said he could fix it. Mend it like new. I knew, he'd missed the point. The day after he left, I held it at arms length. Watched it fall silently to the floor Before exploding. Save for good china Day to day plates do not have to match And I am an afficiano of yard sale mismatches. This makes them easier to throw away when broken. Easier to leave behind at a moments notice. Though tea cups may chip Dishes can hold spiderwebed cracks for years A place setting of twelve is too many, eight too few This I have been taught But I prefer the twelve to the ten You never know when the moment will come. Anger is a catalyst, resignation a release But oh, the shear exileration in The flick of a wrist, The releasing of finger from their hold Though it is never gentle sometime the shatter is the most impotant of all. Someday, I will own the best china there is Use it To feed my cats.

small peak on one of my novels "Sape Verde"

Deborah — Tue, 17 Apr 2007 20:28:10 GMT

I've promised a few people that I'd post some of my writing, so I thought this would be a nice piece until I have more time. It's a scene from one of my novels. Questions and comments may help my editor from commiting murder or suicide. My second two-thirds in hand, I head outside to escape the noise a little, the cramped close quarters where too many bodies had made the stifling heat too much to bare. I settle down on the edge of the porch beside Dennis and his current girl of the week, being careful not to draw splinters into my bare legs. She was kind of pretty I thought. Small, dark haired girl. Unlike the flashy blondes he was usually with. I didn’t know what they were drinking but by their high pitched laughter alone, I could see that they were at least two hours ahead of me. Dennis turned to me, cocking his head with a grin. “Hay chickie” he said, throwing an arm about my neck, bottle still in his hand as he squished me to his side. He points to the girl beside him with the bottle and I am surprised when he doesn’t spill any. “This is Lisa. Li, Rachel.” Lisa flashed me a big, gum smacking grin, tossing her short hair about with a high school girl giggle. She swayed sharply against Dennis, almost knocking the three of us off the porch, as he tried to catch his balance and not spill the bottle at the same time. My return smile is slight and forced. She giggles again, reminding me of all those simpleton girls I’d hated so much at Our Lady of Nonsense’s school for girls, as she snatches the bottle out of Dennis’ hand and takes a big swallow. “Want some?” she asks, sticking the but of the bottle in my face. I scrunch up my nose at the weird colored liquid as Dennis grabs the bottle back. “Nah, Rach don’t drink shit like this.” he said. “What his it?” I ask, trying to focus my fuzzy head on the label and at the same time as I tried to figure out what had settled like a lump at the bottom. All I could think was that somebody had lost their wad of gum in there. Probably not Lisa though since she was still chewing on her’s like some cow chewing its cud. Dennis saluted the growing gloom with the bottle before taking a large swallow. He belches loudly, as he hugs the bottle possessively to his chest, sending Lisa into another irritating fit of giggles. “Only the best ambrosia to be created by the hands of man.” he said, “Life giving nectar fit for the gods.” “Here, here” Lisa choruses, claiming the bottle once more. “And in English, it’s called what” I asked. The bottle exchanged hands once more and he held it out to me like an expensive bottle of wine at some fancy restraint. “Tequila.” he replied “A drink as sweet and intoxicating as a virgin’s kiss and smooth as he inner thighs” Lisa giggled again, snuggling closer to him, running her manicured hand down the front of his worn jeans. With a growl, Dennis turned quickly, throwing his arm around her, catching her giggled shriek with his mouth, then just as quickly, letting her go, sitting up once more, a wicked grin on his face, leaving Lisa to struggle back up, adjusting her shirt. “So, Rach” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me, “Whatch think? Ready to put the vodka and coke aside for a moment and try some?” I eyed the bottle suspiciously. “What’s in it” I asked, still seeing the white blob in the bottom of the nearly depleted bottle. He looked at the drink in confusion a moment. “Only Tequila.” “Yeah, but what’s the white thing in there?” “A Tequila worm” He waggled his eyebrows at me again with a grin “All the best Tequilas have them. It soaks up the liquor real good.” I wrinkled my nose, trying to figure out why a liquor company would go through the trouble of putting a gummy worm in all their bottles and for that matter, why it didn’t dissolve. Then again I thought, maybe that was how they made their drink sweet. “Watch” Dennis said as I hesitated. He put the bottle to his lips, throwing his head back but didn’t drink as the little white blob slowly floated down the neck to his mouth. As it touched his lips, he took a slug, then lowered the bottle, the blob no longer inside. He looked at me with a wide grin, displaying the worm, held carefully between his teeth. Spitting it out into his hand, he held it out to me. With a frown, I moved closer, looking at it carefully, surprised at the details. It almost looked real. I cautiously poked at it with my finger, feeling a leathery texture to the skin. Time seemed to stop for an instant as realization sunk into my alcohol numbed brain. At the same moment, Dennis plucked it up, bit it in half and chewed contently as he fed the other half to the now laughing Lisa. I could feel the blood drain from my face and the balmy night suddenly took on a strange chill as my stomach did a funny back-flip. Quickly I scrambled to my feet and raced towards the house, their laughter and my spilt drink ignored as I made for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. The florescent light above the sink seemed overly bright as I leaned against the sink, staring at my sweaty face in the mirror. Taking a few deep breaths, I tried to calm my jumpy stomach with a murmured mantra of “I’m not going to be sick, I’m not going to be sick, I’m not going to be sick.” It seemed to work as my stomach settled into a hard stone below my ribs. Turning the cold water on, I took a few swallows from my hand as I tried to remember if I’d eaten anything today. There was a quiet knock on the door. I could hear the muted sounds of the party in the rooms beyond. “Rach, you okay?” Karra asked. I looked up as she poked her head in the door. “Oh baby,” she said after taking one look at me.” She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “You look like shit. “I’m all right” I mumbled, the mantra of I’m not going to be sick still rolling over in my brain. Karra wet a facecloth and started wiping my face and the back of my neck with it. I still felt cold but at the same time a hot flash seemed to have risen in my face and the cloth felt good. I took a few more calming breaths, looking up as the door opened once more and Dennis stuck his grinning face in. “How ya doing Rach” he asked. Behind him, Lisa giggled. “I’m fine, I’m fine” I said, but even I didn’t believe the words. “Are you sure?” he asked. As I nodded, the room shifted slightly and I decided I wouldn’t be doing that again. “Are you really sure” he asked, punctuating his question with a noise in his throat reminiscent of a cat coughing up a hairball. The blood rushed back to my face in a second and the two feet from the sink to the toilet suddenly seemed a mile that I would never in my life be able to traverse. All pretence of reality was lost. Somewhere in the back of my head I saw Dennis’ eyes widen as I lost the contents of my entire body across the sink, the floor and his feet. “Great ass hole” Karra said, slapping him on the side of the head. She took a hold of my shoulders and led me to sit on the edge of the tub. “Now you can just clean it all up.” she told him The rest of their exchange was lost to me as shaking and covered with sweat, I suddenly burst into tears. I was going to be sick again I knew it, and just wanted them to go away so I could die in peace.

Questions

Deborah — Wed, 14 Mar 2007 18:21:38 GMT

Okay, I'm posting this because a friend asked me to. It's kind of fun but who's to say what or who muight answer Questions to get to know you:::: Silverknight's idea Tue, March 13, 2007 - 6:56 PM 1. Can you cook? 2. What was your dream growing up? 3. What talent do you wish you had? 4. Favorite place? 5. Favorite vegetable? 6. What was the last book you read? 7. What zodiac sign are u? 8. Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? 9. Worst habit? 10. Do we know each other off line? 11. What is your favorite sport? 12. Negative or Optimistic attitude? 13. What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me? 14. Worst thing to ever happen to you? 15. Tell me one weird fact about you: 16. Do u have any pets? 17. Do u know how to do the macerana? 18. What time is it where u are now? 19. Do you think clowns are cute or scary? 20. If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be??? 21. Would you be my crime partner or my conscience? 22. What color eyes do you have? 23. Ever been arrested? 24. What is your favorite drink? 25. If you won $10,000 dollars today, what would you do with it? 26. What kind of bubble gum do you prefer to chew? 27. What 's your favorite place to hang at? 28. Do you believe in ghosts? 29. Favorite thing to do in your spare time? 30. Do you swear a lot? 31. Biggest pet peeve? 32. In one word, how would you describe yourself? 33. Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you?