Autopilot

Autopilot

Flying, stuck on this plane

Haunted by bullshit and underlying pain

Swallowing excuse after excuse 

Never-ending interpersonal abuse

Stare out the window capturing every detail of each cloud

Alone on this plane, no one else is around

Hearing my own voice over the Captain's speaker

Making a reality of my greatest fear

He's grown sick of my same #$@ different day

Adapting that mantra and accepting it as a mentality 

Expressing concern at a time we had dreams

Now I've given up, comfortable with just settling, it seems

Pissed off that all I do is #@$% around when given time

When I used to write stories and thoughts with words that rhyme

The door opens, watch myself grab a parachute and bail

Leaving me to burn in my own personal hell

Now my dreams have left I feel alone

All the blame is mine to own

Alone on this plane now I just sit there

Wondering if when the plane crashes will anyone care

I jump up ignoring the fasten your seat belt sign

Tired of hearing myself BS and whine

Running full speed at the locked pilot door

In the cockpit is my demons, my fears, and we are all going to war

I make it in and the window shows images of my life

Challenges, failures, success, children, family, friends, my beautiful wife

Pick up the mic and radio the tower

Praying I have the knowledge to get me out of this, the will power

Afraid there would be no voice on the other end

Instead the plane was filled with voices from family and every friend

All saying the same things

I NEVER needed a plane to fly, I was born with wings

Taking a moment I let that sink in

Feeling the healing within starting to begin

Taking a running start and smashing through the window

Proving to myself that I am more than a man, I am my own hero

Safely flying to the ground

Hugging my family and friends saying I love you all without making a sound

Looking up at the sky watching my autopiloted plane burst into flame

Realizing the truth after that journey I will never be the same

Writers block

Writer's Block

Black as night

Engulfed in silence

Headphones in 

Lyrics used to inspire words

Drums always started the flow of ink

Now there is nothing

Demons have finally shut up

Angels left long ago

No longer fighting with each other

Lifelong battle between the two is done

Ammo for so many stories

Basis of almost all poems 

Roots of all my ideas are now gone

Pick up a pen

Not a word is written

Doodles are made 

Letters not legible

Thoughts are now just straight and curved scratches

Blue and black nonsensical scars

On a blank white paper skin

Making sense to no one 

Not even myself

This has worked in the past

Poem after poem 

Story after story

Idea after idea

Helped me out of this rut

Now all I have is a desert of ideas

Barren thoughts

Mirages with no substance

Haunting my mind

Teasing the future

Books and books of great ideas

Just sitting on my desk

Completely afraid to touch them

Success scaring me as much as failure

Praying this works one more time

I was born to do this

Ink is in my blood

And I must get rid of this 

writer's block...  

May the force be with you

May the Force be with you

Years ago an idea came from a bearded man

With a billion dollar idea and a mullti year plan

Giving us a tale of about a galaxy long, long time ago

Creating characters we all love and we know

It was a story about a lost boy on a farm

A wise old man who kept him from harm

Posing a life long question of who actually shot first

When Han Solo and Greedo met in space bar to cure their thirst

Two droids who will always be best friends

Warning us is we don't let the wookie win we all now how it ends

Bringing us a robot voiced villain dressed all in black

Killing nameless crew members with a force choke attack

Influencing years of girls costumes of being a cinnamon roll hair bunned princess

Encouraging us all at least once to use the force to get out of a mess

In other movies we find even more characters we love with our heart

There are so many to name I'm not sure where to start

Yoda the green alien who taught us there is no try 

Teaching a very important life lesson to the Skywalker guy

Or maybe it was the bounty hunter who was gunning for Solo's head

The giant sloth named Jabba who wanted the captain of the falcon dead

Cuddly ewoks who looked like jungle clothed teddy bears

One eyed Dianoga's who live in the Death Star in it's trash lairs 

But not all characters were great sad to admit there are few that still stinks

Let us never forget Misa Jar Jar Binks

Deep down its a movie about the good and bad we all battle with

Our inner Jedi's conquering the evil Sith

So pick up a light saber red, purple, or blue

And may the force always be with you

Two poems....

I thought I would post two poems here for the price of one.  One I wrote a few weeks ago and just got down to posting in hand written form, and the other just came to me literally out of the blue!

Knockout

When life hits, it hits hard
Making us bleed, leaving scar after scar
Kicking us and punching us when we are down
Begging us to give up while we lay on the ground
Left hook. Right hook. Uppercut its all the same
As the blood flows we look who to blame
Becoming stronger we make it through the pain
Lessons in life is what we gain
Aches and thoughts run through the mind at night
Mentally preparing ourselves for the next fight

Hope

Hope

Stars we wish on in the darkness

That hug we hold on for a few seconds longer

Hands we squeeze a little harder 

Prayers we say silently

Also ones we yell out at the top of our lungs

Little voices that scream in our head to get up 

When all we want to do is give up

Undying strength inside

Leaning on friends and family

Knowing that any battle can be won 

Any enemy can be defeated 

As long as we all 

And always have

Hope...

Mystery Story Contest!

I wrote this in about an hour the other day.  It was for a contest but I never turned it in.  One because I never got the chance to type it up, and two I feel the ending was rushed.  Due to the word limit I was kept to.  I thought I would post it here though just so it doesn't feel like I wasted time writing a short story, and who knows it might become something more somewhere else down the road...

His Mistress

The phone rang at three in the morning.  Detective Gideon hated when it rang then, because it meant that another body was found.  Gideon was tempted to throw his phone at the wall sending his fourth phone to the same fate as the last three he had.  He didn't because he could barely afford the one he had and had no money to replace it.  "What", he grumbles into the phone.

    The voice on the other end answers back, "Aren't you a ray of sunshine.  You are wanted at the Galaxy Hotel."

    Gideon answers with a, "Fine", and hangs up.  Out of habit he turns to the other side of the bed to wake up his non-existent wife to tell her he was going out on duty again, but that side of the bed has been cold for months now.  She couldn't handle being married to a Detective.  A man who always put everyone else in front of her, she joked with him many times that his job was his Mistress.  He didn't disagree.  The divorce wasn't messy though because luckily they didn't bring any kids into their lives, and all the stuff around the house he didn't want anyways.  He only wanted their dog Lucky, and she took him as well.

     Gideon maneuvers through his pitch black small apartment wearing nothing but his underwear.  Donna his ex-wife hated when he didn't wear pants around their house, so there was one plus side to her being gone.  He turns the coffee on, and heads back into his room to get dressed.  It doesn't take long for Gideon to get dressed since it was routine getting dressed at all hours of the night.  He laces up his boots and looks once again at the empty part of his bed.  Rage taking over.  Lack of sleep for years from being on the force.  And that cold spot in his bed where Donna used to sleep.  Gideon than launches his phone at the wall.  Sending wire and plastic flying everywhere.  I guess he will have to get number five in the morning.

    It took thirty minutes to drive to the hotel, which used to be a city landmark, but now sadly a home for many of the homeless when the streets got to cold.  Gideon thought they must have found another John Doe who was going to sit in the morgue, nameless, and with no justice served because no cared for the forgotten Grandfather or Uncle anymore.
     Gideon walks through the doors he used to love walking through of the hotel.  The truth is this place has a special place in his heart, because this Hotel was the destination of many romantic getaways and rendezvous for Donna and him.  It's where they first had their first dinner which led to their first kiss in the hotel's quaint cafe.  Escaped the hustle and bustle of everyday life even it was just for one day.  He also proposed to her in the hotel lobby, and they spent their first night as husband and wife in the honeymoon suite on the top floor of the historic building.  Gideon couldn't help but be haunted by the ghosts of good memories, and terrorized by the nightmare he was now living in.  Being alone.
     Gideon walks into the lobby and finds a bloody wedding dress, but no body contained within.  The white lace now stained permanently by blood, bleeding into the color turning the white into a more pale pink.  It didn't matter the color though because Gideon recognized that dress, it was Donna's.  He remembered taking it off of her and throwing it on the ground in this same hotel.  He couldn't help but fight the smile that formed as he remembered the good memory of his nude wife getting off the bed and picking the dress up, and draping it on a chair instead.  He remembers her words exactly as if she was there speaking to him, " I don't want it to get ruined.  I want to be able to preserve this moment for ever and never tarnish the beauty of the day, that will and forever always be our day."
      A uniformed officer named Duncan sneaks up behind Gideon, "Any ideas Detective.  Is it still a murder without a body?"
      Gideon was knocked out of his fantasy and saw the grim reality he was in again.  Gideon didn't want to believe she was gone.  Yes he hated her for leaving him, but he still and always would love her.  Gideon ignored the officer question and looked around the scene for anything else.  Maybe more women got married in that same dress design.  He always heard wedding dresses were one of a kind, but he always thought that was just a saying to justify the price gouging that happens on all wedding dresses.  Then he saw Donna's wedding  ring.  It hung on a blood knife.  A knife being held by a stuffed tiger.  The same tiger he bought her on their first date as Husband and Wife when they went to the zoo on their honeymoon in New York.  The same knife Donna gave him on their wedding anniversary.  He then knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was Donna's wedding dress.
       Gideon breaking all rules of protocol grabs the tiger and the knife clangs to the ground.  Reaches down and grabs his dead wife's wedding ring, and staring at the tiger as if it was laughing at him.   Gideon had proposed with that same tiger in the same spot, and now he standing in that same spot with the same tiger where his wife's life ended.  Confused and saddened why someone would murder Donna, and here of all spots.  He sat there going through his head thinking about how many people knew of the significance of this spot for them.  The sad truth was everyone knew it was special.
      Detective April finally made it onto the scene also expecting another homeless murder that same thought as Gideon.  The only difference is she wasn't wowed by the memories of this historic building so she was able to soak in all the details and find pieces of the puzzle that Gideon just walked over.  In the door way she two of the same boot prints going into the hotel as well as one set of heel prints, but only one set of boot prints leaving.  April always knew that was a bad sign for whoever was wearing the heels.
     April followed the bootprints to the grieving Gideon, and saw him deep in thought sobbing quietly, and she took that for extreme concentration so decided not to bother him with a meaningless, "Hello".  She took in all the evidence that was staring at her in the face that screamed murder, but still there was no body.  She noticed the bootprints and one stopped, and there was another set that went up the stairs.  She followed the dirty breadcumbs up as would any good detective.
     She followed them all the way to the top of the floor, out of breath, wishing she took the elevator up now.  She always wanted to stay at the hotel before it shut down, but she never got very serious with anyone to give it a chance.  She always took the other detective's advice and gave up on dating and or trying to settle down with a special someone.  It never worked out they always told her.  Divorces and unhappy marriages always seemed to follow along with the title detective in her unit, and she was perfectly fine not being another staggering statistic in an already high number.  She was married to dead bodies and justice and had no time for anyone else.  The bootprints led her all the way down to the hall to the honeymoon suite.
     April opens the door slowly expecting to find the missing body lying naked and dead on the bed, but found only a note.  A confession note.  She picks it up and reads it, "I killed Donna. Signed, G."  April thought about radioing down, but didn't want to tip off Gideon.  She grabs the note and flies down the flights of stairs.  April had to be sure before she charged the detective with murder of his ex-wife Donna.
    She slows down on the last set of stairs and casually walks up behind Gideon.  He still not saying a word as if the entire world around him was non-existent and it was only him and his wife's dress that only existed in this world now.  April looks down at the boot prints and matches the ones going up the stairs, and the ones that stopped at the body were the same.  Gideon's boot print.  Same size and same tread.  She handed the uniformed cop the note that confessed his heinous act.  Maybe he did it in a drunken rage, and can't remember that he did, but the truth was he still did it.  All the evidence pointed to it.
      She pulls her gun, "Detective Gideon put your hands on your head where I can see them!  You are under arrest for the murder of Donna Johnson..."
      Gideon didn't hear the anymore words, and knew he didn't want to live in a world without Donna, even if they weren't together.  He reached for his gun, and April had no other choice but to fire killing the detective.  His body falling on the last remains of his failed marriage.
 
      Donna could hear the gunshot from her hiding spot in the alley.  She watched as April the detective who always took her Gideon away walked in not knowing she going to be part of a planned out execution.  Donna knew Gideon never slept with her, but he might as well as all the time they spent together.  Donna knew she planted everything perfectly, and only had one question in her mind.  Did the shot come from April or did her husband take the cowardly way out and kill himself?  Donna had this night planned for weeks.  The first step was the staged break in at her house where she was "robbed" of everything she has every owned.  Her wedding dress, rings, heirlooms of her life, and all the things Gideon left behind in hopes of reconciliation.  Even though she knew there was no chance in hell that would happen.  All the signs would point to him killing her, but there was no body.
       She knew that Gideon couldn't live in a world where he couldn't have her and his mistress.  Crime itself. Even if he was cleared of murdering her they would surely take away his badge.  She thought it was very fitting that his mistress was the one that ended up killing him in the long run, since it killed their marriage years ago as well.  She walks to her car and pats Lucky on the head, "It's just us now Sweetheart."
     Tomorrow the news will spread saying how a detective murdered his ex-wife, and she will miraculously show her face to the world, confusing the entire world how a dead woman can still be alive.  That it was some other poor woman who was killed by the mysterious, G, and the detectives and officers on site killed the wrong guy.  April would end up turning in her badge as well.  Two birds with one bullet.  Gideon will receive a hero's funeral, and she will play the role of the grieving widow, and finally life happily ever after.
      

Joker

Knock, knock wanna hear a joke

Open the door so your throat I can choke

Hands wrapped around the throat for a good grip

So your life and soul I can rip

Tears start to form in your near dead eyes

Smiling as the rest of you dies

The last thing you see is my devilish grin

I'm Hell's personal clownish demon

Taking away lives in so many ways

I will show Gotham its end of days

Calling the Bat my best friend

It is my destiny to bring his life to an end

Killed so many people I have forgotten every name

Doesn't matter to me all corpses look the same

Thinking maybe I'll unleash Joker gas on the city

And create an entire city that looks like me

Walking around town with a painted on face

Robbing banks and wreaking havoc with a touch of grace

Killing is easy when you have no preferred weapon

Using my hands, knifes, acid flower, or my gun

The knight in black is the one who made me

Our lives were meant to cross it was written as destiny

More monster or devil, no longer a man

Do I really look like a guy with a plan....