horror

Winded

Tis the wind that taps my glass.
I close my eyes with hope to pass.
Tis the wind beats on my door.
I cower and cover till no more.
~
Tis the wind that haunts my home.
Forever it lurks where I roam.
Tis the wind that rattles my brain.
Run do I, none to gain.
~
Tis the wind wherever I go.
Till ash am I then it to follow.
Tis this wind shall set me free.
Scattered safely I shall be.
~*~

Sck091815

Share the Buzz

There once was a once upon a time.
Actually there’s many and some do rhyme.
So here it goes another like the rest.
It might not be the worst but won’t be the best.
~
Once upon a time there was;
bees in a garden sharing a buzz.
They flutter high and they flutter low,
they flit where they need to go.
~
They all know each other, each by name.
But humans think they’re all the same.
Unwittingly perhaps, speciesists are we,
but they don’t need us as we need the bee.
~
They grow our food and sweeten our tea,
an absolute necessity, don’t you agree?
So next time you see one, share their buzz.
Cos without them our once will be was.

~*~
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Check, Please!

The writing’s on a wall that’s yet to exist.
An empire crumbles for the shallowest of tryst.
With ignorance and spite winning the day,
our sky overhead turns blue to gray.
~
Made up beliefs distort the goal,
wishing for heaven but digging a hole.
A nation’s torn and the world’s to follow.
Easy solutions are always hollow.
~
Arrogance shines when senses dulled.
Kings are spawned when pawns are lulled.
Rooked again by another’s sin,
digits lose but the commas win.
~
A billion reasons just a handful knows,
only time will tell how this story goes.
I hope someday to write a happy end,
when the traitor’s torn, then to mend.

~*~
SCK013119

Morning Triku #155 – Drums Rolling

.
Taxing Tax Free

The nice thing about
being an author is you
wrote your own paycheck.

.
More or Less

If you try sometime
you do find you get what you
tried for but no more.

.
Dueling Wits, I Coulda Had a G8

If a sum’s greater
than its parts, then parts lacking
must be a summit.

.
sck070717

Dead Tired

.
Finally, the end of the longest day of my life was over. The tears of the past months now free to flow yet strangely absent. This old house quieter than ever, the door closing behind me and the true sense of emptiness was now being felt as I never thought possible.

Leading up to my wife’s death, friends, family and of course my daughter were always close by and the grief shared by all. Now the house is dark as I stand in the hallway not wanting to turn on the light for fear of seeing the reality of finally being alone.

The hall was brighter just this morning as the sun rose and my daughter and I went off to the funeral parlor for Liz, my wife’s final service before our trip to the cemetery. The morning was crisp and clear, a distant smell of lilac hung in the air as the cars lined up for the procession.

The route chosen was considerably longer than necessary but a twisty country road in full spring bloom is a sight to be enjoyed, even if it to be the last. The funeral itself was as beautiful as anyone could expect, the morning mist lingered in the new day and the birds serenaded in the background as hundreds of mourners passed to show love, friendship and respect for a truly remarkable person. A woman whom I loved deeply for many, many years but now feeling I never fully acknowledged as a person or professional and was regretting having not expressed it more when she was alive. I hoped she knew of my love and respect for her as a mother and friend, as a physician, scientist and teacher and of course as a very lucky man’s wife.

The next few days a similar sad and hazy blur, I just roamed from one room to the next recalling all the little things that happened in each one over the thirty years living here. Each had a story, a laugh or tear, all where ours, our colors, our furniture, our books and our clutter. Each and every piece a memory and all memories of an instant in time to never be repeated. A life time that was a life’s time in the making and yet gone in an instant.

Life goes on I’m told and I would like to believe that. I’m sure for many it does. For some however it’s just not meant to be. I realized this when the crumpled remains of my car was dumped in my driveway minutes ago. And I never got to say goodbye.

The End

sck061817 / dft

Day Anew or Deja Vu

I woke up nice and early,
to start my day off right.
I tip-toed to the kitchen,
to watch the new day’s light.
~
I made myself a coffee,
one sugar but never cream.
The water didn’t boil;
I thought it was a dream.
~
I went back to the bedroom;
I found I was still there.
I slept rather peacefully;
it gave me quite a scare.
~
The cat was also sleeping,
curled up in a ball.
I gave her a little scratch,
she didn’t move at all.
~
I nudged my sleeping wife,
she didn’t make a peep.
I cuddled up beside her,
hoping I’d fall asleep.
~
The cat was first to rise,
soon jumping off the bed.
My wife then too awoke,
turning her pretty head.
~
She didn’t even see me,
as I lay there by her side.
I could see she was awake,
her eyes were open wide.
~
I feared that I was dead,
now a ghost out to haunt.
I gazed into the mirror,
I did look rather gaunt.
~
My wife started screaming,
shaking the sleeping me.
I knew we had a problem;
the evidence’s plain to see.
~
The alarm then started ringing,
time came into view.
I gasped for needed air;
I then started the day anew.

~*~
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Old News

A milestone’s coming and it’ll be soon,
decades in wait, seen many a moon.
Suns have risen and all have set.
There’ll be a last, but not there yet.
~
A half dozen here and a half dozen there,
a middle’s been found, but I don’t care.
The body’s slowing, as is the mind.
Questions answered but still more to find.
~
Thoughts now scattered as a puzzle unmade.
Borders redrawn as the memories fade.
Steps now higher as heights decline.
Trips once painful now feel fine.
~
Aggression decreases and assertiveness rules.
Passivity wanes when there’s less to lose.
Life’s still good with passion unfazed.
With a muse to love I’m daily amazed.
~
The support of all knows no ends.
Thanks to be given to family and friends.
Yes, a milestone’s coming, but it won’t be bad.
Sixty’s just a number, no need to be sad.

~*~
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A Little Proof

The forest is gone where once a home.
A people lost, now destined to roam.
Legends of old speak of their race,
though only of blurs, never a face.
~
Smaller than dwarves, bigger than fairies,
their language mistaken for frantic canaries,
they’re easily missed being so small.
A full grown adult’s barely twelve inches tall.
~
Their numbers blossomed to one hundred per tree.
Nature, their home, they could be no more free.
They chose to stay hidden, out of harm’s way.
The choice wasn’t theirs, they learned the hard way.
~
The giants invaded with axes in hand.
They chopped and cut for towns they had planned.
Centuries have passed and the invasion persists.
The Liluns survived but only few still exist.
~
They still choose to hide and that’s probably good.
As the giants don’t always do as they should.
Their wishes fulfilled at whatever the cost.
This story’s the proof of the many who’ve lost.

~*~
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The Fragrance of Fickle Follies

Where jester’s king and knights a daze,
sunsets fade to a mushroom haze.
In castles walled the future’s stalled,
the heat of the moment is to forever scald.
~
When dollars found is sense lost,
we’re all to share the eventual cost.
For horizons lured never reached,
minds obstructed always breached.
~
Yet an open mind like and open gate,
frees the fears, ignorance and hate.
And whilst moats are filled from the waste within,
their funny stench is where their ends begin.

~*~
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Symptomatic

The day was young and the coffee’s old.
The season’s new and the outside’s cold.
The inside’s warm so in I’ll stay.
I’m not feeling well this chilly day.
~
I brewed some more and drink it all.
Saving none then duty did call.
Then back to bed, or at least I thought.
I forgot what excess has often taught.
~
I tossed and turned for a little too long.
Then to the bathroom, but nothing’s wrong.
I needed a tissue for a sneeze I felt coming.
Proven right the sensation was numbing.
~
My plans now nixed, the sniffles persisted.
Medicine taken, their side-effects listed.
I’ve started to doze and none too soon.
Please wake me up before the spring moon.

~*~
SCK092320

Hot and Cold Memories

We all walked to school without a care.
We stopped at the store with pennies to share.
Cats and dogs always ran free.
Trees were claimed by them and me.
~
We rode our bikes like we were all nuts.
Our hands and knees came home with cuts.
Bikes had brakes most of the time,
or slowed by sneakers covered in grime.
~
Any spot with grass was called a yard.
We swam in places with no lifeguard.
Snowballs were made no matter the cost.
We wore socks on our hands when gloves were lost.
~
We all had to fight every once in a while.
Our moms would yell but dads would smile.
Rooms were shared and sometimes beds,
smelly feet tickling their brother’s heads.
~
Then junior high came and we had to change.
Our hair grew long and our clothes got strange.
Many smoked cigarettes and other stuff.
There were lots of choices but enough was enough.
~
Childhood then ended and the troubles began.
When the problems started most of us ran.
Some now have passed; some did well,
but all fondly remembered though it was hell.

~*~
SCK092120

Electrifying

I’ve got nine lives or just wasn’t ready.
I was closing a window, the rain was steady.
Then a big boom and a flash of white light,
I was struck by lightning last Friday night.
~
My lights went out but my heart didn’t quit.
The tree nearby suffered the hit.
I owe my life to my old friend.
I survived but it may be their end.
~
It’s bark blew off in a long straight line.
My hand was tingling but I won’t whine.
I turned ghostly white, let out a scream.
My life now charged and I’m living a dream.

~*~
SCK081319

The Rebirth

I think today’s Saturday but I’m not sure.
It’s just another day waiting for a cure.
I tossed and turned all through the night.
I awoke to darkness but the sky was bright.
~
My input seems to be running out.
In silence I wish to scream and shout.
Coffee’s running low and milk’s getting old.
Veggies growing limp and bread’s growing mold.
~
The toilet paper’s still in good supply.
My hands scrubbed raw so I won’t die.
The day then turned the dullest of gray.
But it doesn’t really matter, cos in we’ll stay.
~
Plans for the future now put on hold.
So inside we’ll wait until we’re told.
I’ll make some calls to those I miss.
I’ll wake my sweetheart with a kiss.
~
While trying not to get the blues,
we’ll start our day with the news.
Breakfast we’ll share with lots of love.
And we’ll thank our lucky stars above.
~
We’ll visit the world on the screen.
We’ll watch the grass turning green.
We’ll happily spend time doing chores,
hoping for a chance to get outdoors.
~
I simply can’t bear another TV show.
The cars got gas but there’s nowhere to go.
Perhaps we’ll walk, but not too far.
Or we’ll play some cards and guitar.
~
We’ll write a little and maybe draw.
I’ll tell her she’s the cutest I ever saw.
We’ll have our supper with a candle lit.
Then it’s off to bed to read for a bit.
~
We’ll reflect on these times we now live in.
Then dream of the next to soon begin;
when doors will open from our self-made tomb,
awakened all, to a new spring bloom.

~*~
SCK040420

The Wizard of Windham

The wizard of Windham lived on the hill.
His walls of stone are standing there still.
The roof’s now long gone as is the tower,
once a symbol of the wizard’s great power.
~
His age was unknown, a millennium guessed.
The first settlers awed, but some less impressed.
The natives too could never agree.
Were his acts wizardly or wise fakery?
~
The questions delayed with new problems brewing.
The settlers flourished and the natives were stewing.
Agreements were made and boarders were mapped.
The hill was the place where both overlapped.
~
The wizard then asked to choice just one side.
The wizard then answered with a grin, big and wide.
“I’ll choose no side as the hill is my own,
each stone hand-placed, a thousand years grown.”
~
“My family, you see, arose from these grounds.
We speak and we hear all natures’ sounds.
The grasses here grow tall to tickle my feet.
And the berries are delicious because I like sweet.”
~
The chiefs convinced as he spoke of their legends.
Each then agreed it’s best to be friends.
The settlers too thought that was best.
A treaty was signed and they all now could rest.
~
Years then passed with the wizard unseen.
But his tower stood proud on its hill of green.
The settlers now settled and their families grew.
The natives moved on leaving now but a few.
~
A new generation, now triple in size,
gazed at the hill with big greedy eyes.
The treaty forgotten as was the wizard.
They planned to start building after the blizzard.
~
The long winter passed, the spring brought more rain.
That summer was scorching, then autumn again.
Builders were hired that following spring.
A fortress they’d build with a big banquet wing.
~
Wagons were loaded and the horses well fed.
The mayor woke early from his big comfy bed.
A speech he’d planned for that very day.
But storm clouds moved in and the sky turned gray.
~
His speech was canceled but the builders went ahead.
The mayor scurried home then back to bed.
Rain soon started then followed by hail.
The wagons got stuck on the wet slippery trail.
~
The work then delayed until the skies cleared.
Months soon passed, much longer than feared.
Rumors spread of the wizards return;
if magic he has come summer they’ll burn.
~
By early June the sky hinted of blue,
the trail now firm and the grass green and new.
The builders then called to make a new start.
The horses led forward pulling wagon and cart.
~
The trail narrowed at the base of the hill.
Then the horses all stopped and just stood still.
The builders got scared and ran back to town.
The mayor got fired for being a clown.
~
Some say the wizard had gotten his way.
That legend lives on to this very day.
Does the wizard still live, well nobody knows.
But his hill’s still green as the little town grows.

~*~
SCK030421

Fed-Up Back-Up

Mom’s always angry and I’m fed up.
The kids are a pain and won’t shut up.
The little brats scream, yell and they shout.
There is no relief, not even when out.
~
They cost a lot too and always want more.
I’ve tripped over packages at my front door.
Something’s always broken and the house a mess.
We need a vacation, I must confess.
~
A hammock for two on a deserted beach,
with the comforts of home well within reach.
We’ll eat when we want and we’ll get up late.
By day we’ll frolic, each night a hot date.
~
We’ll call the kids weekly, just to say high.
Then we’ll hang-up when they start to cry.
We’ll bring back presents, two for each.
But if they’re bad we’re back to the beach.

~*~
SCK071623

Some Days

Some days I feel great, 

others, not that well.

I wake each day not knowing, 

if it’s good or a living hell.

~

I’ve no reason to be grumpy, 

or knock myself around.

I know I should be happy, 

still vertical on this ground.

~

I don’t have any enemies, 

if so, I’m not aware.

But the image in the mirror, 

often gives me an evil stare.

~

There really is no reason, 

but I question my every move.

I should learn to just relax, 

enjoying this summer groove.

~

Thoughts run through my mind,

 from where I can not say.

So far my head is quite,

 let’s hope it lasts all day.

~*~

SCK061624

Unquestionable Quest

I’m on a quest for a treasure chest.
No pirate will stand in my way.
My maps were all in order.
My journey started that day.
~
My ship was ready to sail.
The sky was blue and clear.
The breeze filled my lungs.
The time was growing near.
~
Sunset ended a beautiful day.
Then the wind began to blow.
The rain soon was drenching.
My crew all hid below.
~
I manned the helm alone.
The sails I couldn’t adjust.
Lost and tossed in darkness.
I had to better my best.
~
The night felt never-ending.
My eyes began to close.
The air grew bitterly cold.
I couldn’t feel my toes.
~
Sunrise was surely welcome.
The rain began to wane.
The crew decided to join me.
They saw I was in pain.
~
I ate a hearty breakfast.
Then they all began to clean.
My sails were all mended.
The best I’d ever seen.
~
Spirits returned to normal.
Good cheer was felt by all.
Then days dragged on forever.
Soon it would be the fall.
~

The navigator came on deck.
He had some terrible news.
Our location was unknown.
The maps shed no clues.
~
Half whispered of a mutiny.
The rest was on my side.
Surprise was on their faces.
The fear they couldn’t hide.
~
The crew grew more impatient.
Our quest should’ve been done.
The lookout then spied an island.
It glowed in the noon day sun.
~
The boats then quickly lowered.
My crew abandoned ship.
I left standing all alone.
I wished to end this trip.
~
Another month had passed.
Then a ship came into view.
I was now found safe.
But no word of my crew.
~
I was angry for their failure.
I thought I was to die.
For this quest was sure to fail.
When the crew was only I.
~
I hope a lesson learned.
That help we all will need.
And me, myself and I,
always sounds like greed.
~
My quest is not forgotten.
A new ship I will find.
A new crew will be hired.
And to them I’ll be more kind.

~*~
SCK102620

Clueless

I heard a story when I was away.
It happened last year on New Year’s Day.
A man and his wife went out for a walk.
The beach was deserted, they had a talk.
~
No one knew what the two spoke about.
But it didn’t take long for them to shout.
The women ran back and checked out in haste.
The man was gone, his existence erased.
~
The spa was closed and the police had a look.
A comb was found with a watch and a book.
The detective knew that everything’s a clue,
later that day they found a lone shoe.
~
The sun soon setting, the search had to wait.
The police returned the next day before eight.
Records were checked and fingerprints taken.
Nothing was found but the detective unshaken.
~
Seems the couple paid everything in cash.
The deputy examined all of the trash.
The book, he exclaimed, the best clue they had.
There was also the shoe but that smelled bad.
~
The watch looked expensive but not all that nice.
The comb was filthy and covered with lice.
The detective re-examined all of the clues.
The phone then rang, he hoped for good news.
~
A body washed up on the beach overnight.
By the look of his face he lost a good fight.
The detective, excited, rushed to his car.
He arrived in minutes, it wasn’t that far.
~
Although disappointed when he finally got there.
The man had a watch but he had no hair.
One thing’s for certain, he was missing a shoe.
It was a little too late but now he had two.
~
Now two crimes to solve and surely related,
there’d be no rest until the criminal’s located.
Days soon passed but nothing new discovered.
A report then arrived saying the victim was smothered.
~
The man was attacked but surely not robbed.
The deputy was called and confessed while he sobbed.
The woman in question was the deputy’s wife.
The dead guy, her lover, had come with a knife.
~
The deputy, of course, had worn a disguise.
But tans are evident in those warm, sunny skies.
His wife’s still missing but his watch returned,
it covered the place on his arm not burned.
~
The book and the comb, both common beach finds,
returned to the spa and their curious minds.
Apparently I read it but the plot was old.
The next day I heard a more chilling story told.

~*~
SCK010122

Damn

Awakened by a dream of dawn,
sunshine beckons a brand new day.
Alas to find my words are gone,
a nightmare dark has found its way.
~
My darling slumbers peacefully,
awaiting her daily verse.
There my joy’s writ for her to see,
yet I suffer the poet’s curse.
~
My only wish is to make her smile,
returning the love she’s given.
And to make her laugh for a while,
curse be damned, this heart is driven.

~*~
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