Long In a flash Poems
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just an average typical morning within this same old town
avoiding all the neighbors that nosily creep these grounds
while all these other folks keep busy bodying gossiping and all
who has whiter teeth, bigger boobs, or the cutest guy at the mall
i stopped at the library to dodge all these illiterate snots
the only place that's quite enough for me to organize my thoughts
i walked in just to be stopped, breathless, dead in my tracks
a book, not made of paper or even hard back
binding was some type of stitched authenticism
bound with a beautiful articulate collage of pattern to it
I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it
I stood there for a second, which felt like a lifetime
must have been reading stars, because it left my mind blind
if only just once I could hold that masteredpiece written classic
I can't lie it was perfect man, I just had to have it
I gasped for a moment, dead in my body
frozen and stunned hoping nobody saw me
it crossed my mind for a split, then, I thought
nah ****
if I get caught I'd be a goner, but I just couldn't wait any longer
I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it
I darted for that case in a flash and I shattered that glass
busted it open, like I was late for literature class
static shocked a little as the book touched my hand
it was in that moment i knew i was the #1 fan
then it wasn't long I realized it was written for me
initials imprinted so there was no questioning
I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it
I fell deep into the title it really 'hit a line'
bold, italics, with a dedication underlined
I wasn't sure why I needed or wanted to own it
but I would have searched forever if I would have known it
searching every library for a perfect story
all the titles and endings just really seem to bore me
this one was special I just wanted to trace over the print
read. every small detail. no need for suspense
I was not sitting at a table in a police interrogation room. *
Nor was I seated in front of a judge in a courtroom.
It most resembled a hall of inquisition to eradicate
every trace of Biblical Christianity from the face of
the earth. Through the ages, there have been multiple
tactics and tools utilized to accomplish such a task.
Herein is simply the encounter that I personally experienced.
There I sat, surprisingly fearless I might add, eager to give
witness to 'the what and who of me' to a couple of inquisitors
assigned to ascertain my answers to their questions.
The Session:
He inquired about the reasons I believed it,
and I told him.
He asked me what I believed,
and I told him.
She asked how long I had believed it,
and I told her.
She asked when it was that I first believed it,
and I told her.
He asked where I was when I first believed it,
and I told him.
She questioned why I continued to believe it,
and I told her.
The session, being finished to their satisfaction, they said,
"You may go now". I was relieved that the session was over.
But in a flash, a strong sense of uneasiness swept over me,
whereupon I quickly requested their further attention. There
was something deep inside of me that I needed to say. With
questioning stares upon their faces, in unison they replied,
"You may proceed".
I said, "Sir, Mam. You inquired of the what of me but never
the who of me". Again, with a questioning stare, they looked
at me and then at each other. They then said in unison, "The who?"
"Sir, Mam", I said. The what, the how, the where, the when, and
the why. All of these answers to your questions are like vapors
in the wind if I never gave to you and the world, the who of me.
If the name of my who was never mentioned, this entire session
would surely be in vain". With high-pitched voices, in unison
they shouted, "By all means, do tell"!
Like the slow formation of clouds, tears began to form in my eyes
as I so humbly replied, "He was born of a virgin, put to death by
crucifixion, resurrected on the third day, and ascended into
heaven 40 days later. He is The Christ; I call Him Lord; He is
the who of me, and His name is Jesus". My two inquisitors were
speechless and in unison, pointed me to the door.
111022PS
*Fiction. On this early November morning between 2 and 3 AM,
this poem was born.
She storms into the room
there is fire in her eyes
and thunder in her step
rage rumbling reckless
She's livid
a live wire of fire
charged
She's on the move
To punish
Is it a rumor or reality?
He has explaining to do...
She rushes at him
Pounding on his chest
words pent up all day
rush out in deluge
drenching him
he tries to pin her hands down
to make her understand
to undo this "misunderstand"
but she pushes him
her pride scorching him
her eyes sparking
passion raging
~~~R*A*G*I*N*G~~~
He pushes her against the wall
pins her hands above her head
"Listen to me!
You got it all wrong!!!"
she pushes against him
breasts heaving
legs kicking
and he's inflamed
her passion burns him
combusts in his mind
and he crushes her with his body
she bites his lips
as they close over hers
he loses his grip
her fingernails dig into his bare chest
trails of red
Growling in pain
He forces her....
kicking and screaming...
down to the floor
Pins her again
"Listen! WOMAN!"
She looks up into his face
breathless
and he goes for her mouth again
Taking her lips into his mouth
sucking fiercely
his tongue tames
fierce...his need to possess
to claim
She fights to free her hands
and they are on his neck
Pulling him in...in
Her lips respond in like
his hand finds her hair
leverage...a grasp
he pulls to expose her neck
And he attacks
kisses...bites...His revenge
His innocence turned to intensity's indignation
she sighs...she moans...
the sounds goading him on
As he loses himself in her cleavage
licking up her perfume
His favorite scent...
sensuous sexy sweet
the storm is fever pitch
in a flash of lightning speed
He lies her bare
and thunders in the thighs
she opens for him...wide
eyes closed
she bites her lower lip
to muffle her cries
as he rides....rides
His victory ride of righteous pride
and she's left
breathless...spent
in a storm of tears
released...repentant
of her insane jealousy
the storm passes over
and in the stillness
he speaks...
his voice shattered...weak
in her presence now calm
meek
"Your anger is beautiful
your rage my relish...
but now...come,"
His voice a whisper
as he pulls her in to him
"Come into my arms
and know the truth....
You're my one and only
My Passion STORM
Is YOU....YOU
Serenity...is overrated."
"That's a dead triangle" the boy proclaimed without even a mention of his good name.
"Gotta smoke...?" the old man asked as he unlatched his case at hand. Pulling out sticks.
His time at the table to challenge the band, was upon him soon. His pinkie ring has an
onyx moon.
"You shoot lefty.... and a bridge is the quarter turn of a One"
"Seven sees four eyes of a sun....! You're good to move on."
What? There's a quarter turn on the horizon?
"The Angel isn't dead and the Dead aren't done...."
How many games have you played I asked him. His blue jeans were dirty and his hair was
thin. His hands were shaking as he drew one in... a long and steady breath, full of smoke
while his eyes sat firm. The hall was dim and around me I could hear the echoing players
call. I could hear clashing of the solidly striped balls.
Then without a reply, the old man turned his back to the wall. Removed his eyes from my
questioning stare and lifting his arm, took a shot through the air.
"Why am I here...." with the angels again...
Hey little girl, did you watch me play? I won that game the red head said. All I could do
was smile. Not knowing yet why once in a while, I'm confronted with strange realities, not
especially mine, but yours you see?
In her face with just seconds to spare I saw her life in a flash of red.... bloodshot.
Eyes in her head were not the kind I'm used to. Something about her ruby lips too.... the
elevator moved ever so slow as we stood there. Her towering height became quite,
apparent, my eyes to roll from my sight as I'm staring. Click please! Let the elevator
floor ding, I'm praying. I see her knees am I shrinking? I start blinking and breathing,
just waiting for the door to start dinging.
And then it did.
And the air finally came.
"Love an Angle and be quick on your game!"... her ruby lips flapping.
Then the red head was gone and I was still.Left standing.
76 tables in the den remaining...I'm exhausted when came
the first of a dawning while driving away in the morning, I realized...
I was called to the table, in play for their lives.
"But I'm not a man..." a whisper cried....
"Only sLight of a human inside...."
A fractal of Light now....
As homeward I drive, wondering how can it be?
As they're not alive. So what exactly, does that mean about me?
Form:
I don’t know what is expected of me,
I do know that I have knowledge to allow myself to see,
To see better days and gorgeous nights,
To see that everyday is a struggle that along comes with new plight.
But within those struggles do bring about better times,
And it is those very thoughts that I keep within my mind,
The world is an obstacle; it’s just the matter how you’re going to hop through it,
And while you’re making it through this world always push on and never say quit!
Never give up and quit on your goals,
And never step out of line just remember your role,
Remember why we were place upon this Earth,
That meaning should have came to you right there at birth.
I was confused at first because I didn’t know why I was placed here,
I walked around acting like no one bother to even care,
No one cared if I was to live or die,
And because of my selfish ways I caused a lot of people to cry.
But if I could take back all that pain I’ll do it in a flash,
Because I want to reminisce on better days within my past,
But the future is starting to look good, that is something I’ll have to say,
So I see there are miracles when we bow our heads to pray!
I’m not a minister nor would I claim to be,
But I can’t be brainwash no more because my eyes are wide open to see,
Beauty is all around us it’s not that hard to reach,
Before I was going after rotten fruits but now I’ve founded a perfect peach.
Someone who is so beautiful with an exquisite face,
And saying your name never leaves a bad feeling or a sour taste,
Nicole, I nearly gave up on angels until you came into my world,
I just want to be near you and hear you say that you’re my girl.
Trust and honesty does go hand-in-hand,
And trust me babes I’ll never want to do you wrong, just to be your man!
Whenever you’re having a bad day I want to know,
Communication babe, that’s the only way we can really grow!
I’m not the type that is about running games,
And I truly hope this aspect is something that you find the same,
Nicole, it is because of you that I now have peaceful nights,
And having nothing but love for you is something I can see insight.
A kind heart is approaching so be sure to accept the blessings of the heart
Form:
Hush mom said
She told me to be quiet
To not make a sound Cause daddy was sleeping
And I didn't want to wake the beast.
Because when the beast is awoken…
It was like a tornado and a hurricane mashed into one
Terrorizing the whole house making it shake like a earthquake
Hush big brother said
He told me to hush when he broke the vase that held the memory
of our beloved grandmother "Don't worry " he said
"everything will be ok"
Yet at the end of the day
I was the one that got beat black and blue for it
And all he got was a stern talking too
Where's the justice in that?
Please tell me which part of that was ok?
I guess i should have read between the lines
Hush sister said
She told me to be quiet when I saw her sneaking out
She had the smile of devil that was planning on dying
I begged and pled that she stayed
She just looked into my eyes and said with the softest of voice
“One day i'll understand and she'll be there to stop me”
Then out the door she went. Sneaking off…
Like a cat in the night with one last saying…
I'll be back in a flash… which turned out to be a lie
Now I stand over her grave
I begged and pled
I prayed and prayed for her not to walked out the door into
The cold, dark and heartless night
But no.. a bang and then a boom followed with a crash
Here's her body…. Now six feet under
Hush dad said
He told me to stay quiet when he was in my room at night
He whispered everything would be ok...
That he was just showing me something new
Yet at the end.... I was the one feeling blue…
I played there covered in filth... disgusted with myself!
I cried and cried and cried but did you care…..
No! You didn't! What was that you told me at the end?! O yeah… You said….
“I was daddy’s good little girl.”
You told me to hush about this..
That if I didn't hush….
You would make me hush….
Hush the voices said
As I sat on the end of my bed crying to myself
I thought about all the things that I didn't say
I kept quiet because everyone told me to
And now I am broken... A shell of a person
The voices tell me everything will be ok
And as I took my final breath.....
Everything..... Was ok.... For I.... Was hushed.... For good
My sad, deplorable glory is a nightmare for another
This knowing is sickening to the bone
The need for anothers' pain is like a virus
Slitting the veins of truth and delirious want of false
Watching the bile flow through
I emptied a full, sorrowful glass for you
Without even a moment’s glance
Your parched lips opened to drink
But like poison the sustainable exhalation surrounded your body
I shrank at the shrieks of your disquietude
Not knowing what to do
Expression died with the loss of flow
I couldn’t flourish in the bleak winters of your loss
I couldn’t grow
All happiness in a flash of susceptibility
Turned to woe
I gave into thinking it was all an unworthy dream
But the answers, the symbolism was never clear
The loss of your very soul is what I fear
I never meant to poison you in what I take as nourishment
And here now you rot
At the expense of these sad, empty tunes
They must mean close to nothing to you
Pain
Pain
Why do I revolve around the pain?
The empty glass of your spirits remains stained
With the insides of all things true
Torn away
Smothered in a ghostly, ghastly gore
I couldn’t see you could not take it
The sorrow I meant to erase to fake it
But instead make it
The reason I live is to sing for you
To disintegrate the swelling blue
But instead I crawled into your only space
Leaving only disgrace
The gore splattering in jewels across your face
I’ll tell you what
All my achievements are naught
They are only fakes
I am nothing without God’s grace
I spurt with illegitimate words and tunes
That you can never face!
As if by the heaven I inspired
I am drunken with your bile
Of pride risen above the mile
What is this sadness—
This anger, this madness?
Show me what to do
Show me what to say
I’ll dispose of all vagaries I dared to feel today
And replace it with pain
Replace it with pain
Discordance from another is my nightmare smothered
And this the majority crave
The need—the desire for acknowledgement
We will take it to the grave
I never wanted heartless fame
A poison in a cup
I never wanted anything
Only to fill you up
I poured the glass and there it came
Just sad, tired air
Nothing left to give you
Not even the sentiment of a stare
The truth is I am scared
The truth is I am scared
I guess, at times we are all. . .
Not there
7/13/13
Return Of The Tyke
Tyke, tyke, tyke' they’d chant to bait the bairn.
But insult hurled at Yorkshire folk is water off a back.
Take it, use it, grind it through the crank
As fuel for the fire, grist to mill.
Man as boy the tyke unwraps his bike.
Ride a mile, another ten. No stopping, pumping into the blood.
Cycle, eat, drink. Eat, drink, cycle.
Life’s biggest problem, darkest mood, cured in the turn of a pedal.
Through God’s own country
A yellow jersey pulls a golden thread.
Up fell down dale, through Yorkshire’s warp and weft,
It’s cruelest contours purled,
A bright new yarn weaves into the fabric of the hills.
Past mill, past gate, past pit-head dead, history’s milestones marked.
The ride is metaphor, the towns tell out my story.
Otley, Ilkley, Asgarth, Hawes.
Mum at factory, Grandma, The Black Bull - still standing.
The first sip of warm beer.
Mallerstang, Fleet Moss, Tan Hill.
Simonstone, that teacher, my Dad, Wensleydale and Granddad Thompson.
The Scar, the Cove, the Stang – part of us in every crevice, crook and corner.
Muker, Reeth, Masham, over cattle-grid, up the switch-back,
Buttertubs - Buttertubs - Buttertubs.
Suck at the air, tramp on the pain, tyres spit rubber, spit grit.
It’s all about the climb. Locked in battle against the gradient.
She’s out to hurt us, here to make us suffer.
In sickening waves her sweet call comes to quit, to quit,
To quit this spiritual ascent.
Up ahead, on the tarmac one by one, the giants of the fells swing into sight.
Robinson ‘55, Hoban ’68, doff your cap to Tommy Simpson
And Beryl Burton, she showed the lads a clean pair of heels.
I close the gap and hear them urge: “We too were once like you.
Ordinary.”
My own story is forced out,
Spat through bleeding gums and panted breaths it comes
“I’ll catch you, catch you, catch you.”
In Oxenhope and through Cragg Vale
Spirit generations line the streets “Make us proud son, make us
proud.”
We race by in a flash. As lives lived, as lives past.
One evening,
When final stage is done and life turns back to dust,
Take us back to the mountain top. Pause a moment as the weather turns,
Then set us free in the teeth of a gale.
I’ll call them on, those that struggle through the sleet and hale, soft and
strong.
As I myself, one morning, was called.
© Ben Hodgson 2014
There are times when the demon in us stealthily it appears...
How else I get to explain why I did what I did when life is so dear...
How can I explain away my flaunting of a basic safety driving rule...
It is dangerous to overtake vehicles while going downhill...
So it happened, the devil took over my steering wheel this day...
Speeding downhill, two automobiles I overtook rather easily...
At this speed I can take on one more vehicle, that oncoming car is so distant...
I pressed a little more on my accelerator, my double cabin truck shot forth..
That oncoming car, God! There's not enough distance to clear this overtake...
Stay cool, don't panic! Softly and steadily I eased down on my foot brake....
This vehicle I seek to overtake, its speed is much faster than my initial take...
In that split second, dire realisation struck home, you cannot clear this overtake..
Do I brace for impact, trusting in the good Lord, as the oncoming car grew in sight..
In a flash, I'll to trust the good Lord but I did a quick hard swerve to the right...
I'm through Lord! I was right to swipe across to the right to go for the side.....
Then that jarring impact, what's happening, my grip is firm on the steering wheel...
I'm thrown about, splintered glass rained upon me as I wondered will my car stop..
Felt my car heavily crashed through scrubs, saplings and bushes trying to stop..
Absolute silence, dazed comprehension, I'm in a collision, am I alright...
Slowly reached for the ignition, switched off, thankfully I felt alright...
Gingerly, reached across and released my safety belt, feeling no pain..
Cautiously, fearing broken bones or gaping wounds, I took stock again...
Praise the Lord, I feel alright, there's no pain nor bloodied spots...
Miraculously, I think I did alright as I reach to open my car door...
Half in daze, relief welling inside, slowly I let out my right leg outside...
Carefully placed my right foot down, gingerly eased out onto solid ground..
A numbed but relieved mind in me whispered softly, I think you made it...
God in heavens, I have gone through a high speed crash and survived...
Safe I am, this time...!
In my country, drivers are seated right and slow drive is on the left...unlike
Continental driving in the reverse...
In the desert waste Chester Miller looked out,
saw the rest of the gang riding back slow,
fresh from the bank job in Copperstone Creek,
a place that Chester could dare not go.
He’d spent his teen years in that little ville,
caused much mischief of the criminal kind,
if he had rode in with the gang today
he would surely have been recognized.
So he’d drawn up a plan and then stepped back,
let the rest of the boys do the hard work,
given the sacks tied on to their saddles
they’d succeeded, and got away unhurt.
But on the horse of his right-hand man,
an old rebel who the boys called Bret,
rode a scared boy, his eyes wide with terror,
fighting not to sob with every breath.
He tossed the boy down in front of Chester,
who said,”Why did you bring a young kid here?”
Bret said,”Took a hostage, held back the marshall,
allowed us to escape with nothing to fear.”
Chester looked closely at the ten-year old,
seeing something familiar in his face.
“Besides,”said Bret,”now we’ll get a ransom,
his father looked the type who could pay!”
They bound the boy’s hand with a stretch of rope,
but made no other effort to restrain,
as they all drank, Chester watched the boy,
where had he seen him? He wracked his brain.
As night started to fall, the gang dropped off,
Chester suddenly saw truth before him:
the brow and the forehead, the sweep of the jaw,
a spitting image of his brother Tim!
Chester knelt down, look the kid in the eyes,
asked,”By what name are you usually called?”
The boy stammered,”R-R-Ronald Miller.”
Said Chester,”Named after your grandpa.”
He did not have to ask any further,
the boy was his nephew, without doubt,
and with not a moment’s hesitation
he pulled a long, dull Bowie knife out.
Ronald’s eyes bulged from his head in fear,
until Chester quickly slashed his bond,
took the confused boy, lead him by the hand,
said,”Now we have got to move quickly, come on.”
They picked their way over to his horse,
up on the saddle the small figure went.
Chester was about to clamber up to
when the night by a loud shout was rent.
Bret was awake, the others coming ’round,
they’d be drawing their irons before long,
said to the kid,”Tell Tim Chester helped you!”
Slapped the horses, and in a flash it was gone...
CONCLUDES IN PART II