The first few pages of the book im writting. still havent figuerd out a title.

When i was five my mother told me that the rain was made from the tears of all the angels in the kingdom of heaven. She said that when the angels were sad and cried their tears fell from the heavens down to earth.

When i was five i believed her.

When i was six she died........

The hungry cancer ate away at mommy's bones like a mouse eating a square of cheese. Slow at first,nibbling away at the edges and then when it got a good taste of her it began to gobble her faster and faster each day until finally swallowing the last bite of her.

When mommy left my blue Skye's with cotton candy puffed clouds turned grey and the clouds became black over roasted campfire marshmallows. Zeus hurled his lightning bolts down upon me and Hades opened up the earth and his wicked arms to offer me a new home. A home of constant darkness inside my head.

I was sent to live with aunt Marge and uncle ken (moms brother). My aunt and uncle didn't have any children of their own. It was a good thing too.

When they first got me they were like two excited kids getting their very first puppy ( i was that puppy). It was all new and exciting at first so they feed the puppy,take it for walks and brush its fur.

Then it starts to become a nuisance and the initial excitement goes away,so the children's parents end up taking care of the puppy in the end. In this case it was Maria,the nanny they hierd when their puppy (me) became nothing but a chore.

Every now and then they acknowledge me by throwing me a bone ( 20 bucks) and letting me gnaw on it (spend it) in the dog house (at the mall). I stay out of their hair and they stay out of mine.

The perfect pretend family.......

Eleven years later I'm seventeen sitting on the front steps of our lonely home.

I am alone.....i am always alone.

The sun is shining bright warming my cake frosting white skin. I notice a boy about my age with black porcupine hair walking up the drive way toward me.

Maybe if i pretend I'm invisibal he wont see me.

He steps up in front of me and sticks out his hand. He has a silver lip piercing and most likely a bad attitude. He smells like Marlboro's and cheap body spray cologne. "I'm Jobi" he says with a grin.

Thought to self: I'm angry,depressed and i hate smelly teenage boys with holes in there lips,now leave me alone.

I decide that's to drastic. "I'm Anna" i say instead. He puts his hand down by his side when he realizes I'm not going to shake it.

"wow that's rude Anna".

"so what" i say in between chewing my already too short fingernails.

"You look like you need a friend Anna".

"And you a haircut" i shoot back.

"Wow I'm sorry i came here" Jobi says, then turns around and begins walking back down the driveway.

Angel on left shoulder: Say sorry you idiot you have no friends.

Devil on right shoulder: You should call him back to chuck him the finger.

Me: I hate everyone.....

I don't want to call him back, I'll feel like a boob but angel on the left is right i need a friend, and a good one at that. Under my red knit sweater my left wrist looks like raw hamburger meat from all the cutting and healing and cutting and healing.

"Wate" i yell. "I'm sorry". Jobi turns around and heads back too me. "Apology accepted" he says.

"My dad and i just moved from Vermont" "Your the first person i talked to here,i decided to walk up the street and check things out". "And i saw you sitting here" "do you want to walk with me"?

Maybe i'll get lucky and he'll murder me,cut me up into tiny pieces and dump me in the creek. Doubt full.....

I flash him a girlie girl smile. "Sure".

He reaches his hand out a second time and i take it this time,standing up with his help.

"You have alot of secrets" he accuses. "Alot" i agree.

We begin walking. This is the start of a beautiful friendship.

Little did i know that something dark and deadly was going to come between us. Something that would change our mortal lives forever.......

Love In The Underground

My name is Michael Stapp, and I have been writing for quite some time. The Following poem is from my book Gravedust & Grace. Which can be found on Amazon by following the link above or at XLIBRIS when the link is working.


Love In The Underground

Like everyone else in the sardine car,
As I unaffectionately call it,
I ignore the smells of body odor mixed with
Those of urine and decaying food,
I’m not really paying any mind to anything whatsoever.
When, while looking out of a grease stained window,
I catch a glimpse of something.
The word love,
Written in bright red spray paint on the concrete wall.
And as people shuffle on and off the train I wonder
Just what is love.
A couple of stragglers run in right before the doors close.
And we are off again.
Only now,
Unlike my car-mates,
I am aware of my surroundings.
I look around seeking an answer,
Wondering; if any of these people; know what love is.
I first glance at the stragglers, a boy and girl of teenage years,
Their faces a veritable beehive of metal.
Their heads, even the girls, are shaven close,
With brightly dyed tufts in spots.
I watch them kiss,
The studs in their tongues flashing in primary colors,
And I wonder if they know what love is.
I turn my eyes away from the couple and spot a woman
Holding tightly to her young son’s hand.
And looking at them I wonder if they know what love is.
Could a young lad such as he, carry the secret to love?
The locomotive starts to slow again
And though I am still pondering love, it is my stop
And I must simply get off.
Rising up to the street, I am greeted by the sun.
I have to squint a bit until I am adjusted,
But that doesn’t put me off.
I can smell the java perking from the nearby coffee shop,
And the aromas drifting from the vendor’s carts.
Looking around I take in the world with all of my senses,
And I decide right then and there.
The feeling you get when you get off of the damned subway:
That is love.

Woodstock 07

Take me away, my love
for a ride in the sky.
Round and round we'll go
where we'll stop, no one knows.

Take me higher, my love,
high above the world below.
Together, we'll rise above
the corruption of the materialistic.

Let us forget the world below
and enter one of our own.
Here between earth and clouds
all that exists is you and I.

Move in closer, my love
to share in an intimate kiss.
We must be very careful,
or we'll fall to a tragic death.

The warmth of your hands,
the taste of your lips,
the fire in your eyes
encompasses my spirit.

Let us move, my love
to a higher plane of existence.
Together, we can rise above
and find a serenity that is our own.

Let our hopes and dreams
wrap around us.
Let our passions ignite
and burn as one.

~ DBCII

Adventures in Nannying...

Hi everyone, I am an after school nanny and sometimes like to write about the silly encounters I have with the people I see and listen to daily. Here is something I wrote at a kids' soccer game yesterday...

Goals

A stampede of little blond boys
rush to one end of the indoor soccer field.
The rubber spikes of their cleats
pitter-pattering
on the shiny Astroturf.
Blood drawn to their pale faces
as they breathe in unison
through their mouths.

Some parents -at the edge of the sideline-
puff out their chests and call out
to their yellow-headed sons
in vain,
"To the left Tommy, we talked about this in the car!"
or
"Come on Ref- that was in!"

The others sit on benches
sipping fair-trade coffee
in Styrofoam sups-
fiddling with their Blackberries-
and occasionally glancing up at the timer
21:20... 21:19... 21:18

Thank you for reading! -Lauren

Excerpt from my book.

This is a short excerpt from the second chapter of a book I've been failing to work on for about a year. I'm not sure I'm a good enough writer to pull it off, yet.

I got the idea driving home from school one day. There was a yellow line on the road on 295 from a paint truck accident, between exits 3 and 7 or so. The next day it had already been completely wiped out except for a scoremark. Very few people had a chance to know it was there. The line in my story is more like a cross between the bell in The Polar Express and the wardrobe to Narnia.

I chose to share this excerpt because I read it over and I think it is the most interesting. (The name Bunny is, um, explained earlier. XD) Enjoy!

“We seem to have a case of lazy dish elves again, Bunny,” her mother said holding a vegetable strainer, slightly grimy, up in front of her face.

Dishes were not Bunny’s favorite chore, and she avoided them as much as possible. But she was good at them. Her father was the “lazy dish elf” in the family but her mother didn’t know that. She sighed and decided not to argue it. “I’ll call the exterminator tomorrow,” she said, taking the colander from her mother and a scrubby sponge from the edge of the counter.

“Thank you dear.” Her mother smiled and limped up the stairs to her bedroom, kicking her heels off halfway up and carrying them. Bunny scrubbed the colander with grapefruit scented dish soap and hot water and poked around the kitchen for other misplaced or dirty dishes. She decided to start dinner, since mom didn’t seem to be reappearing and dad was on another kick of “dieting.” She preheated the oven and began filling a pot to boil some pasta. Watching the water rush into the pan she thought about the line. It was so weird that no one else seemed to know about it. She decided she would have to ask everyone she could think of the next day.

“I’m going to order pizza for dinner,” her mom said. She’d changed out of her suit and into ill-fitting pajamas. “What do you want?” Bunny eyed the chicken she had just started to coat in breadcrumbs and muttered “Anything you want is fine, mum.”

* * *

The next morning when Bunny looked bleary eyed out the window of her third floor bedroom, the green sunburst and the line leading down the road were still there. But gathered in the street was a collection of cats, some she recognized and others she did not, sitting at attention, eyes focused on one of them. She had never seen so many cats doing the same thing at one time. She shifted her attention to the one cat that had been singled out. It was a very large cat she had never noticed before, black with white mittens and what looked like a smudge of white on its belly. His fur was sleek in the early morning sun, and he was circling the manhole cover warily.

She tapped on her window and some of their heads whipped around. One of them gave a strained “meow” that made Bunny wonder if it was a signal of some sort. In a moment all of them were gone. No. The one who had been in the center remained. She felt like he was waiting for her to leave.

“Bunny! I’m leaving your lunch money on the table but I have to get going! I’ll see you tonight, okay?” her mother called up the stairs. Bunny just looked away for an instant, but when she looked back outside the cat was gone. For a split second she thought she could see the end of its tail over the manhole cover, but she couldn’t be sure. She was still, she knew, at the edge of sleep. She shook her head slightly and started to clamber into her school clothes.

Thanks for reading,
Katherine

What desert is this? I wish I knew.
It lays beneath the sky so blue.
The sun, the wind and cloudless sky
makes me ask the question, why?

That such a desolate and barren place
conspires to poison me, what a disgrace.
Oftentimes it can be said
this place fills me with unyielding dread.

The unyielding heat and dryness rule.
I suffer so and can be so cruel.
This place within is shown to few.
It is walled around and shielded too.

The rain provided by the sky so blue
evaporates or turns to dew.
But nourished me not, and quenches me neither,
tempts me so, and does not linger.

The desert is lonely dark and bleak.
I don't understand my needs to meet.
It hurts me so, I want to weep.

The Lessons We Are Taught.

The Lessons We Are Taught.

From the moment when we take our first steps,

we are taught that the world is a dangerous place.

Our bodies are fragile, and so we must 

tread carefully, while avoiding strangers.

When we begin elementary school,

we are taught that our bodies are like factories;

The heart pumping blood like a great machine,

the lungs puffing out air like a smoke stack.

As we prepare to join the adult world,

we are taught that our minds are like computers;

processing and storing information;

retrieving data to perform functions.

All along we are taught to worship

the all mighty dollar, and all of its glories.

Spending our days, performing our functions

filled with fear and greed, in order to survive.

When we grow old, we don't need to be told

that we have become obsolete, useless

bags of bones and flesh, never forgetting- 

that the world is a dangerous place.

~ DBCII