Jackpot!

A return to the superhero poetry.  No more clowns, for a while!  And starting next month is Operation Thanksgiving, and NaNoWriMo which means no poetry for November. Instead I get to write 50,000 words in one month!  Wish me luck!  Now a different kind of love poem...

Jackpot...

Every since I was growing up I wanted two things.

It wasn't fame, fortune, money, or various degrees of blings.

I wanted to save the world.

And get the girl.

Flipping through brilliantly drawn and brightly colored comic book pages.

Allows allowed my inner heroes to break out of their cages.

Always striking out in the beginning like Peter Parker.

Girls laughed in my face and made me feel like a loser.

Forming early on crushes on Gwen Stacey and Mary Jane.

Loving how Superman was always brought down to earth by Lois Lane.

Even though they were super heroes they are human too.

They have their inner demons, and victories like we all do.

Family and friends they would give their lives for.

Having complete fear and still kicking down the unknown door.

As I grew older it felt I would never find love.

Only going on dates when it came push and shove.

Got lost for too long in a crazy psycho.

She kept me trapped with no escape and nowhere to go.

Then a friendship became stronger it grew.

There was no control over what either of us could do.

We started off slow just like you said.

Even though I envisioned our lives in my head

From that first kiss against your car.

I knew in that moment that we would go far.

When our lips touched it felt like I was flying in the sky.

And there existed only the truth no more lies.

We went from Husband and Wife to Mom and Dad.

Had great days, bad days, happy days, and sad.

You bring out the Superman in me.

Given me the greatest power and great responsibility.

You have given me a cape with no need for a mask.

Knowing you will battle any villain standing by my side I don't even have to ask.

Looking at you I only have one thought.

Face it Tiger, I hit the jackpot...

Circus

And now the finale.  And since people asked where the music went I got  new music for ya too :D

Circus

Cold breeze on my face.

Freedom.

Children playing.

Laughing with joy.

Sun as bright as a ball of fire.

Smiles and laughter all around.

Telling jokes that make no sense.

It all seems fake.

A past I wish was the future.

The air is replaced by dampness.

Dust.

Dry blood, sweat, and tears.

Look down at my hands.

I see blood.

Scars of a knife.

Or two.

Trying to rub it off on my pants.

Not coming off.

Permanently stained as a reminder.

Of what I have done.

For which there is  no forgiveness for.

Hopeful playful eyes.

Blue, green, brown.

Full of life.

Are killed by dead lifeless eyes.  

Eyelids stained by makeup.

By blood.

Some mine.

Mostly theirs.

Tear that were cried.

Only a few mine. 

Mostly theirs.

While pleading for me to stop.

Lifeless eyes.

Blue.

Dead.

Brown.

Dead.

Green.

Dead.

Only lifeless eyes.

No longer able to see love.

No more pain or suffering.

I am jealous of these eyes.

They escaped Hell.

Why am I still a prisoner.

I wake up.

Only a dream.

Scratch that a nightmare.

Maybe it was all a dream.

Eyesight flooded with bright white artificial light.

Blinding light that bounces off the walls attacking my eyes.

Praying I'm in Heaven.

Hands dripping with invisible blood.

Blood that is no longer there.

But once was.

Pinching myself hoping to wake up again.

Realizing I've been in my own bed this whole time.

At home.

With love, hope, and a family.

Happiness.

Feeling nothing but a sharp sting of the pinch.

No still in Hell.

In my own nightmare.

I scream for help.

No words come out.

Only laughter.

I attempt to whisper.

Giggles escape from my lips.

Running out of options I pound on the door.

Trying to break it down.

A guard pops into the window.

Doesn't utter a single word.

He just stand there and smiles at me.

Leaving me standing there wondering what is behind his smile.

Not saying a word.

Just laughs.

There is so much evil in his laugh.

As if I'm the punchline of the joke. 

The guard stares at me.

Then leaves.

Whistling while walking away.

Not a normal song.

But carnival music.

The music that has scarred my mind.

Ever since it first pierced my eardrums.

I know why he smiled.

Having no choice a smile forms on my lips.

I know why he laughs.

Doing what I only know how to do now I laugh uncontrollably.

One of the punchlines.

Certainly not the last.

I surrender and walk back to my bed.

Whistling the same tune that haunts me.

Accepting the fact I'm just another clown.

In his demented circus. 

The Joke

Part 3: The Joke

Here I stand.

I feel the dirt under my big red shoes.

Spotlights aimed directly at me.

Making me sweat.

Droplets of perspiration temporarily blinding.

Attempting to ruin the makeup.

It doesn't run one bit.

Feeling an uncountable number of painted eyes staring at me.

Listening to them laugh.

Like I'm the punchline.

Of the joke.

Watching across from me there is another victim.

He has the same tell tale markings I have.

Bleach burned face.

Blood stained smile.

Curly knotted hair.

Evidence of trying to wipe away the makeup.

And just like me failed as well.

Confused and lost.

Unsure why he is here as well.

Hearing the same laughter.

Wonders the same thing.

Listening to them laughing.

Like he is the punchline.

Of the joke.

Clowns staring at their new victims.

Proud of their handiwork.

Betting on which one will join their circus.

They all can't stop smiling.

Some because they don't want to.

Others because they have no other choice but to.

All of them knowing you can't spell slaughter.

Without laughter.

Laughing without stopping.

Since they know the punchline.

Of the joke.

We both cross our arms in protest.

We both refuse to fight.

Unwilling to give into their demands.

Rejecting their request for blood lust.

Screaming together that we won't do this.

Knifes are thrown in the arena.

Pictures of family followed.

We both stand there.

Listening to them laugh,

As we understand the punchline.

Of the joke.

I pick up the knife.

The glass on the the frame of my family has has been shattered.

A shard has gone through my picture.

Symbolizing what must be done.

Knowing if I do not play along.

My family will pay the price.

Letting the carnival music invade my soul.

Destroying the tiniest bit of hope.

Praying for forgiveness.

I have no choice but to attack.

I smile.

He wonders whats beneath my smile.

I laugh.

He knows the evil behind my laugh.

The victim finally realizing.

With his dying breath.

That he is the punchline.

Of the joke.

Speak Now...

And now for a little something different.  I started writing a romantic comedy back in the day after my comic scripts no longer had an artist, and it felt like Defender/Super Mid Life was dead in the water.  I'm not sure if I started doing poetry again by this time, so I just had a bunch of few pages started here and there for ideas.  This was one of them and if people like it I might just finish it for the blog, and maybe publish later down the road.  So without further adua I give you, "Speak Now"

Here I am witnessing Jon and Maria's special day.  I wish I could tell you they are some of my closet friends, but the truth is I have never met them.  In fact I do not know a single person in the church.  I'm here for another reason.   I'm telling you this first, because if you saw me first doing what I'm about to do you would form a split second opinion of me.  You would drive down to your bookstore, and demand your money back.  Find out my personal contact information so you can call me personally and call me a jackass, a loser, a jerk, or my favorite insult a douche nozzle.  With my luck you would probably come up with better insults which I would then steal from you and use them in my own verbal warfare.  But like I said I was about to do something, and like everything in life there is a reason.  So if you will excuse me I have to go speak now because I'm tired of holding my peace.

Flash back, there I was standing up at the altar on one of those days that was supposed to be one of the best days of my life.  Standing next to the love of my life.  Looking in their eyes and dreaming of the future.  I see kids, a house, a picket fence, and even a little dog down the line.  No, I'm not the one dressed in lace and white, I'm the one in the tuxedo.  My name is Alex, but everyone calls me Lex.  My beautiful fiancee's name is Mariah.  Like I said I was staring into her eyes picturing our growing love, and our future with no clue as to what was about to happen.
       The preacher says, "Do you take Mariah to be your lawfully wedded wife, blah, blah, blah,blah..."  He didn't actually say the blah, blah, blah part, but it just pains me reliving this eye opening moment in my life.
      Like any soon to be husband whose mind is already on the wedding night I say I do not contemplating on how both of our lives just changed at that very moment.  As soon as I have sealed my fate the preacher turns to the congregation and announces the famous last words of my life, "If anybody objects of Natalie and Alex becoming husband and wife speak now, or forever hold your peace."
       I watch the crowd smiling like the dumb idiot I am, looking at all our friends and family, but than I spot an unfamiliar face in the crowd.  It was Jason, Mariah's trainer at her gym.  This guy is massive.  Short brown hair, and piercing blue eyes that makes all the woman swoon over him.  He stands up and I notice his biceps are the bigger than my arms, and his chiseled chest barely fits into the dress shirt he more than likely has duct taped in the back just so it could stay on.  Jason boastfully says the words that make my heart sink, "I object!  I love Mariah and will not stand idly by as she marries the wrong man."
       Before I could turn around ask Mariah what the hell this muscle headed juicer was saying, she was gone.  Into is arms.  Their lips interlocked in what was supposed to be my passionate kiss.  Everyone's eyes, even God's eyes could not look away from the continual stomping of my heart and love from my supposed love of my life.  They just stood there making out for a good five minutes, but to me it felt like eternity.  Once they finally realized what had just happened they both ran out the door, without that bitch even saying sorry.  Then all their eyes turned to me.
       I didn't feel anger at first, mostly embarrassment.  The only way to define how embarrassed I was, is to imagine overweight midget ninjas  repelling from the ceiling wielding plastic swords and rubber nun chucks.  Then the fat ninjas start kicking you in the nuts, and beating you till you cry with their childlike weapons.  All of this happening while your entire friends and family just watched, waiting for you to react, or fight back.  
That's a pretty accurate description of how I felt.
       I tried opening my mouth but no words came out.  In fact not a clear, coherent thought was in my brain.  Only a replay of what just happened kept playing over and over and over in my head.   On top of that I was standing in front of everyone I love trying desperately not to cry and stay strong.  My best man Dave was the first person to say anything to me.  He leaned in and said, "Dude you might want to close your mouth.  No words are coming out. Come on we will find a place to go and gather your thoughts".....


That's what I wrote years ago, but like I said if you enjoyed it please let me know.  I would love to finish it.  What goes on is basically Lex goes to weddings after weddings interuppting them during the "speak now" phase and tests the grooms or brides love for them.  There are lots of funny antics I have planned out for him and his friends and family.   So please don't be shy if you hate it let me know, and I'll go back to writing superhero novels and shark books for my kids.  If you loved it I would be more than happy to try my hand at writing a romantic comedy for the guys.  And if you didn't care either way, thanks for you time.

Ink in my veins

Ink in my veins...

Loving the scribbling of the pen to paper.

Thoughts racing.

Late nights up.

Too many questions.

Not enough answers.

Creativity boiling to the top.

Saying things with a pen.

The mouth is not brave enough to speak.

Dig deep for hidden meanings.

Disguising the pain.

Celebrate happiness.

Building inner strength.

Growing to become a better man.

Giving the voices deep within.

An outlet to escape.

Others sharing the same thoughts.

Unsure how to deal.

Or express.

Handing out comfort when is needed.

Advice masked through out the rhymes.

Physically where my body is.

Mentally elsewhere.

Never alone with the characters trapped in the mind.

Their pain is my pain.

Their loss is also mine.

When they feel love my heart beats for them.

When they are happy I have no choice but to smile.

Feeling a tinge of victory deep inside when the good guys win.

Never ending exorcising of demons.

Constantly haunted by the fear of the unknown.

Becoming both the hero and the villain within.

Always battling dragons.

With a notebook.

And a pen.

The dragon's fire singes the paper.

His claws cut deep.

Not a single drop of blood is shed from the cut.

The only thing that is spills.

Ink.

Inspire...

Look around you never know you inspire.

Little eyes watching you as you aim the bar higher.

Giving people the fuel they need for their own fire.

Providing strength when every where you look is dire.

Pushing someone off their ass when all they want to do is retire.

Showing the world one more person to admire.

The world daring us to stop when we know we must go.

Having so much to prove, and show.

Inspiring more people than we will ever know.

The inner fire always burning and will always glow.

Making people take notice and say one word, WHOA!

We are the results of everything we have been through.

The heroes little eyes need to look up to.

Doing all the good things we do.

The circle of inspiration starts with you.

Knowing that now, what are you going to do.

Behind his laugh

And now part 2....

I tug at the ropes.

They are tied tight.

No chance of escape.

No hope.

He walks over to a record player.

I hear a scratch of it beginning.

Can't help but flashback to the nights of my father playing music.
So loud.

So fun,

This was the opposite.

The circus music shakes me out of my daydream.

Shattering any happy thought I had at the moment.

He turns and looks at me and laughs.

So much evil is behind his laugh.

He walks over to a closet and opens it up.

I see rows and rows of heads holding brightly colored wigs.

Rainbows.

Red.

Bright green.

Orange.

I used to like the color orange.

Now not anymore.

He turns to me and eyes me up.

Takes the green wig off of the resting place.

Takes it over to me and places it on my head. 

Smiles at his accomplishment.

He laughs again.

So much evil behind his laugh.

He takes the wig off.

I feel the scratchy fake hair eating away at my skin.

He turns to the table and I look to see what is on there.

White makeup.

Big noses.

A pallet of a red liquid that is housing a brush.

And a ratted old looking bottle of superglue.

He picks up the superglue and opens it up.

Putting a healthy amount of it on the wig.

And places it back on my head.

I feel it bonding to my skin.

Having no way to stop it.

I have no choice but to cry.

He laughs again.

So much evil behind his laugh,

Grabbing the white makeup he starts to cover my face.

White as a ghost.

Whiter than his.

I feel a slight burning,

Smelling a sanitized smell.

Looking in the corner I see and empty container of bleach.

The burning now makes sense.

I refuse to cry.

He has too many victories the way it is.

Tears start to form in my eyes.

The pain begging to be let out.

Demanding it doesn't.

He puts the sponge down and smiles as his handiwork.

He laughs again.

So much evil behind his laugh.

The brush of red comes next.

I can tell by the dripping of the brush that is is not paint.

Now the stains on his teeth make sense.

I cringe at what I imagine will happen next.

Brushing circles around my eyes.

The warm liquid soothing the bleached pain.

Disgusted by what is happening.

He looks at me and smiles.

Points at me too.

I refuse.

The knife is picked up.

Motioning me to smile again.

I smile as big as I can.

He smiles back.

Approving of my smile I hope.

He laughs again.

So much evil behind his laugh.

He takes the brush of red dips it back into the container.

Red liquid dripping.

Body sickening.

He starts to brush a smile on my face.

It hits my lips.

And every fear I had of what it was.

Came true.

Wanting to fight.

Completely terrified to.

All hope is lost.

There is no escape.

He looks at his handiwork.

His brand new clown.

First he smiles.

Motioning me to smile back.

I fake it.

He laughs again.

So much evil behind his laugh.

Fail Forward

I tried my hardest.

Came up short once again.

Put everything in I have in me.

Once again the cards were not in my favor.

I didn't come in dead last.

I didn't come in first.

Either way.

I still failed.

I fell once again.

Got myself up.

Knocked the dust off.

Got back in there and tried again.

Learned from the mistakes I made.

Made it closer this time.

I can almost taste it.

Still come up short.

Either way.

I still failed.

I've learned all that I can.

Each failure making me stronger.

Each time coming up short.

Making me smarter.

Fine tuning what I needed tuned.

Ready to take it on again.

Put every ounce of my soul in.

Still come up short.

Either way.

I still tried.

This will be the time.

I can feel it.

You have to fail a thousand times.

In order to learn how to succeed.

Stronger than I ever was before.

Feeling the whole world behind.

Seeing the fear in my opponents eyes.

They know their time is up.

Lesson's will be applied.

Strength will be shown.

Each time I failed.

I grew.

Each time I failed.

I learned.

Each time I failed.

I grew stronger.

Each time I failed.

I failed in one direction.

I failed forward.

So eventually I know.

I will succeed!

Behind his smile

This is part one of my month long Halloween poem.  I am going for sick and twisted so if you want a happy poem please wait until November.  If you want a bone chilling, freak you the freak out, pee your pants in terror poem, I hope this works then.

I wake up there is only darkness.

Pull on my leg I feel a chain. 

The metal scraping against the ground.

No light is allowed in,

Am I in Hell.

Am I still alive.

All of a sudden screams make their way into the room.

Blood curdling screams.

Followed by laughter.

Hordes of maniacal laughter.

Where am I?

Desperately pull on the chain try to break free.

Can't.

There is nowhere to go.

No hope at all.

Footsteps coming.

Stopping at what I would guess is my door.

Key's jingling, 

The sound of a lock turning.

Light assaulting the pitch black of the room.

Blinded by the bright fluorescent.

Rub my eyes to get the spots out.

There I see him standing in the doorway.

Wondering what is behind his smile.

His painted white makeup is smeared down his face from sweat.

Multi-colored wig is all in knots.

Black apron with red stains all over it.

White gloved hands carrying a knife.

Looks at me with lifeless eyes. 

Laughs.

The same laugh I heard that followed the screams.

I do not give him the benefit of that.

WHO THE HELL ARE YOU

There is no answer.

Only a tilting of the head.

Eyeing me up.

Having no idea what is going on in his head.

Wondering what is behind his smile.

Pure evil is contained within in this dark creature.

His red lips smiling his pearly whites.

Stained with blood.

Not wanting to know why.

He walks over and goes towards the chain.

Unlocks my feet.

Shows me the knife.

Telling me without saying a word.

Don't fight,

I stand up.

Groggy from being in the darkness for so long.

I fall.

He laughs.

The only sound he makes is laughter.

Wondering what is behind his smile.

I try to get up again.

He gives me a glass of water.

I take a sip out of dying thirst.

Head starts to spin.

Seeing multiples of the same smile.

The same sadistic smile that drugged me.

He laughs again.

That is all he can do.

He grabs my feet.

Drags me out the door.

Having no fight in me.

I have no choice to go where he takes me.

Wondering what is behind his smile.

Being dragged down the hall I realize I am not alone.

Clowns everywhere.

Lining the halls.

Pointing at me.

Laughing at me.

Smiling at me.

So much evil in each and every one of them.

No longer men or women.

Only monsters.

Embodiments of true fear and terror. 

He picks me up with ease and throws me in a chair.

Ties me down.

Laughs at me.

Puts the knife down on the table.

And smiles.

This whole time wondering.

What is behind his smile.