2. Desired section:Stories and poems
3. My experience:I have had a couple of poems published in a local literary magazine.
4. My example:
Poems:
I'm no fool
All i Know
is I'm going to try
to get back home
before i die
Going show the ladies
that I'm no fool
All i really know
is that I'm gonna
try to kill myself
before i die
Gonna show the ladies
That I'm no fool
Tried and true
Though your ways are tried and true
I have thought this out through and through
Just keep this between me and you
Just some advice from me to you
Traitor
Kill the traitor
Who flies our colors
kill the traitor
that helps our course
all because he wears a turban
Liar
You are the best person
that I will ever know
But make your kindness into a fire
Because you forgot that I'm a liar
The crux
Lets get back
to the crux of the matter
Wonder back to the road
To remember all that was said
redundant
If this poem is redundant
Drop me a line
And tell me so
Stories
Warning!!! Foul language!!!
Spoiler: Click to Toggle the Spoiler.
Session 15-Rico Suave'
How I came to be here was, everyone has a weakness. The last thing we want is to be vulnerable, but it's inevitable. We are the missing piece in someone's life. We are the corner pieces to the big picture.
You can't really understand my position until you understand the circumstances. I was in love. I am in love. I'll always be in love. Let's just say I was married for a good chunk of my adult life. Let's just say I made a certain someone mad. Let's just say, off the record, that person disappeared. Let's just say that's my whole reason for this 'torture' I'm being accused of.
Okay, so maybe it was torture.
I mean, understand my position. I'm middle aged and alone. I'm alone because some "rico suave'" had to save my wife's life. I'm middle aged because that's how time works. Thanks God.
I was a regular shrink when I first started. I started each session off with an average Joe conversation. I asked the person everything from their favorite color to their favorite smell to their favorite sexual position. That's how therapy works. You find out what they like, make them vulnerable, then make or break them. It's empowering.
One day I was evaluating this guy named, well, I can't mention his name. You know, doctor-patient, confidentiality. Let's just call him, 'Rico.' He said that he felt accomplished, yet unaccomplished. He said he saved a life. He said he saved a beautiful woman.
Rico told me this story; apparently, he was walking through the city one day, starring up at the sky as he often does, and while he was walking he noticed a figure, a silhouette of a person blocking out the sun on top of this big 60+ story building. Her arms we're spread out wide, looking, down at all the little ants that were all the people not caring. This must be what it's going to be like when Jesus comes back, if he comes back, if he was ever here. Rico stops then runs. Rico runs and runs and runs up 60+ flights of steps, and gets to the roof access door. Once he hurls the door open he runs as fast as he can, panting and yelling; 'Don't! My car is right under you! I still have payments to make!" The helpless soul doesn't really respond. It just waves it hand and continues to look down. When he reaches the helpless soul waving in the wind, he realizes something. This helpless soul is a plastic mannequin. It's says 'joy to the world.' Now, at this point, you must keep in mind; Rico just ran up sixty flights of stairs, to a plastic Jesus that posed no real threat. Keep in mind also that Rico has quite a temper.
Rico punches the stupid, fake, plastic Jesus. Then, in a flash of white hot, sixty story anger, Rico up-roots this fake savior from the roof. He aimlessly throws humanity's only hope down, down, down sixty stories.
At this point I ask him if that was who he saved, the plastic Jesus?
He tells me to stop fudging interrupting him. Remember Rico has a temper.
[Close]
How I came to be here was, everyone has a weakness. The last thing we want is to be vulnerable, but it's inevitable. We are the missing piece in someone's life. We are the corner pieces to the big picture.
You can't really understand my position until you understand the circumstances. I was in love. I am in love. I'll always be in love. Let's just say I was married for a good chunk of my adult life. Let's just say I made a certain someone mad. Let's just say, off the record, that person disappeared. Let's just say that's my whole reason for this 'torture' I'm being accused of.
Okay, so maybe it was torture.
I mean, understand my position. I'm middle aged and alone. I'm alone because some "rico suave'" had to save my wife's life. I'm middle aged because that's how time works. Thanks God.
I was a regular shrink when I first started. I started each session off with an average Joe conversation. I asked the person everything from their favorite color to their favorite smell to their favorite sexual position. That's how therapy works. You find out what they like, make them vulnerable, then make or break them. It's empowering.
One day I was evaluating this guy named, well, I can't mention his name. You know, doctor-patient, confidentiality. Let's just call him, 'Rico.' He said that he felt accomplished, yet unaccomplished. He said he saved a life. He said he saved a beautiful woman.
Rico told me this story; apparently, he was walking through the city one day, starring up at the sky as he often does, and while he was walking he noticed a figure, a silhouette of a person blocking out the sun on top of this big 60+ story building. Her arms we're spread out wide, looking, down at all the little ants that were all the people not caring. This must be what it's going to be like when Jesus comes back, if he comes back, if he was ever here. Rico stops then runs. Rico runs and runs and runs up 60+ flights of steps, and gets to the roof access door. Once he hurls the door open he runs as fast as he can, panting and yelling; 'Don't! My car is right under you! I still have payments to make!" The helpless soul doesn't really respond. It just waves it hand and continues to look down. When he reaches the helpless soul waving in the wind, he realizes something. This helpless soul is a plastic mannequin. It's says 'joy to the world.' Now, at this point, you must keep in mind; Rico just ran up sixty flights of stairs, to a plastic Jesus that posed no real threat. Keep in mind also that Rico has quite a temper.
Rico punches the stupid, fake, plastic Jesus. Then, in a flash of white hot, sixty story anger, Rico up-roots this fake savior from the roof. He aimlessly throws humanity's only hope down, down, down sixty stories.
At this point I ask him if that was who he saved, the plastic Jesus?
He tells me to stop fudging interrupting him. Remember Rico has a temper.
[Close]
Warning VERY foul language(filters should catch it though).
Spoiler: Click to Toggle the Spoiler.
Scapegoat.
The mini novel
Chapter 1
Harmless
My friend Allen used to say "If you wait all day for something, it doesn't make it better, you can see the same thing twice and like it better, it doesn't mean it got better." He would rant," You wait in line all day to see a painting, doesn't make it less of a piece of shizzle, you just are looking from a different angle," he would say, "hey I spent my time standing in line to see a picture of a fully clothed woman, when the computer could have shown me some tits and I could have skipped the fudgeing line and slept till noon". He would say "so maybe all these pretentious fudge art critics just have nothing better to do at the time."
The way Allen had this whole fight the power fiddlesticks going on, people believed everything we told them. We'd say while picking toilet paper off our shoes "yah Allen must have gotten your house last night." It was all ways some harmless fiddlesticks, and then came Jake, Jake was a new kid, he soon found his way into the group because, well Jake had pot. Jake was sort of an Emo kid, he did satanic rituals and all that shizzle. Then they found the bodies.
[Close]
The mini novel
Chapter 1
Harmless
My friend Allen used to say "If you wait all day for something, it doesn't make it better, you can see the same thing twice and like it better, it doesn't mean it got better." He would rant," You wait in line all day to see a painting, doesn't make it less of a piece of shizzle, you just are looking from a different angle," he would say, "hey I spent my time standing in line to see a picture of a fully clothed woman, when the computer could have shown me some tits and I could have skipped the fudgeing line and slept till noon". He would say "so maybe all these pretentious fudge art critics just have nothing better to do at the time."
The way Allen had this whole fight the power fiddlesticks going on, people believed everything we told them. We'd say while picking toilet paper off our shoes "yah Allen must have gotten your house last night." It was all ways some harmless fiddlesticks, and then came Jake, Jake was a new kid, he soon found his way into the group because, well Jake had pot. Jake was sort of an Emo kid, he did satanic rituals and all that shizzle. Then they found the bodies.
[Close]
