Roses

Red. 

Blood red. 

Green. 

Long green stems. 

Roses.

A man returned home. 

He realized his wrong. 

He never spent time with her. 

The love he has

She does not. 

Another man was found. 

In the wardrobe of the woman. 

Furious. 

He feels as if a hole

Is in his stomach

Red.

Blood red. 

Green

A blood splattered comforter. 

Body. 

The body if the man

Lays on the floor.

Now he has a hole in his stomach. 

Funeral Home Yoga

I was driving down the road one day. I live in a small town of Chesapeake, Wisconsin. If anyone knows anything about Chesapeake, they know that it is the most boring desolate town to live in. We have a shop, a mill, and a funeral home. 

  The funeral home is under new management since the last couple died. Now a bunch of women are constantly coming through and through. They live across the street in an old apartment building. I find them rather strange. They live and work this funeral home. They are probably the wealthiest group of people around town. Yet I never see any business. I only see the seven ladies doing yoga out in front, I'm the parking lot. Strange. 

  Anyways. When I drive by I, again, see these women doing yoga. They have a chimney and there is smoke bellowing from the top. It smells of steak. I finally found a peak interest in them and pulled into the drive way. One of the ladies walked up. She looked at me with this weird look and I became afraid. What the hell is going on. I step out of my truck and walk towards the door. I turn around and ever one of them is looking right at me. I walk into the door and there is a smell of bleach and detergent. I walk up to the lady at the desk and ask her what kind of funerals they do. 

     "What kind of funeral are you looking for?" Her voice screeched. 

         "The best for cheap."

"Well look at this catalogue and you can get back to me." 

"Thanks." I take the book and walk to a chair. I flip through the pages and see that there a pages that have been torn and beaten. "Where's the restroom?"

  "Around the corner." I walk towards the bathroom and notice a door with the word "Crematorium" on it. That must be where the smell comes from. I see a flash of light from underneath the door and a laugh. I open the door and look down the steps. More and more flashing lights. I walk down the steps. It's dark. Flash. And another.  I make my way to the bottom and find the switch. 

   "Don't touch it!" A voice says. 

"Who's there?" 

       "Who let you down here?" 

"No one I let myself." I feel around to see where I am. Out of no where a fire starts. I see the seven women standing around a body. 

      "I... I thought this was a..."

"Funeral home? It is!"

  "Then what the hell are you doing."

"Sacrificing this body to our ruler."

     "Yeah. How do you think we're still open?"

   "I assumed you made money... You know, doing funerals?"

     "We only do closed casket."

"Keeps them from seeing the body. Well there isn't a body to see."

  "I have to tell the police!"

"You're not going anywhere!" As I begin to run two of the ladies grab my arms. They aren't human hands. They are long and slimy, with big suckers on the end. The turn me around and I am stunned by their faces. They're big and silver. With bug eyes. Aliens. I pass out and when I wake up I'm strapped to a table with the seven aliens over me. 

  "Your turn."

Empty. Nothing.

I walk in. Empty

I walk out. Nothing

The world has turned round

For billions of years

Yet I stand here

Alone

Out of touch

Where is she now

With him. 

Not with me

Empty. 

Nothing. 

Dangerous Dreaming

Some dreams are dangerous. The simple fact that a man cannot fly is known by many. But there are few out there who do believe it is possible. In fact we have it in our genetics to be more powerful than any other being in the world. I am a human geneticist. I study the research on the coding of human DNA. I believe that with the "flip of a switch" a man can have power beyond extraordinary capability. I began trials a month and a half ago. With monkeys, the process was long. the wait was excruciating, but in the end, about two days ago. He did it. The monkey jumped off a bannister in the room and hovered for ten seconds. It was the most successful break through I had, ever. I put Dennis, the monkey back in his cage. When I arrived here this morning, he died. I though for sure it worked. But it didn't.
   I am here now. In my office, with a syringe full of the serum and my arm prepped and ready. Maybe.. No. Yes. Yes. If I shoot it into myself it will be more successful. Besides I am far more capable than a monkey. I pick up the syringe and open the needle. I press it against by arm. Ow! Shit. That hurt. The blue liquid enters my blood stream. I can feel it cross between the different veins and arteries. My brain. I feel the change. I stand up. This has to work. It has... All of a sudden I am lifted off of the ground by an unknown force. I did it. I am flying. I soar to he other side of my lab. I am filled with joy.
     I zip around the office a few more times before I place myself in front of he window. I can do it. I jump. I begin falling. The wind is exhilarating. I reach the 5th floor and zoom off into the sky. I did it. I scream for joy. The cool air fills my lungs. I fly around the city before finally arriving back at my lab. But as I go to land I stumble. I fall to the street and land on my butt. I am still smiling none the less. I go to get up and l look to the left. A semi. I'm dead.
     I open my eyes and it seems as if I had slept for years. I look around the hospital room. There are the usual flowers and the balloons. The doctor walks in.
 "What's the verdict doc?"
             "I can't... Nurse! Get me a Nurse to B112 stat!" The doctor was screaming toward the hall. I didn't understand.
       "Doc."
  "Don't get up. Son you've been in a coma for twelve years. You were hit by a semi. And You lost your legs and your arms." I look down. I couldn't believe it. My arms and legs were stubs. I couldn't move anything but my head. "Son are you.. are you gonna be okay?"
     The doctor puts me in a wheelchair and rolls me to the window. It was boring. The world hadn't changed. Only darker. Now I'm here. In a wheelchair. The geneticist. The man that was going to find the way to fly. I guess that's why they say some dreams are dangerous.

The Beauty and The Beast

Not many would guess

Nor would they assume

He was rich and honorable

When it came to being in public

But behind closed doors

Other stories were told

He would beat

And nothing she did

Till the night of his birthday

When they returned home

He drank the day away

And he fell to the couch

She went to the kitchen

There she devised a plan

With a cleaver in hand and rage in her eyes

she tore him to shreds

Without regret in her mind.

Tonight was the first of many

She slept peaceful this night

And he slept forever. 

Free Write Thursday: A Poem

Free Write Thursday?

I am confused. Wait I.. No I don't

I thought today was Thursday.

It is! It is Thursday!

But why am I writing a

Free Write Friday

On Thursday

Why today, today of all days

You're confusing Hays

You're messing me up

You're making me fail

You're causing this pain in my head to bail

You make me want to barf

I made up this poem in five minutes

Don't make fun

It's just for

Don't say Fun

I suck at poems

There

I'm done.



Insignificant

 You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Not a lot of people would. I find it strange, these seemingly "civilized" people can only see what they want. They don't see everything. Nor do they listen to me. All they see is the man pinned to the wall with a chair. The legs impaling his chest. This would take a lot of force. It did. I know because I am the one that put him here. Another man, simple, placed... no shoved into the fireplace. His body was contorted into a strange oblong ball. He was on fire. The smell of burning flesh filled my nasal cavity and I smiled. And last, a man, strapped to the table with his own belt. This man was the bloodiest of them all. His head had been beaten and bashed. His brain... gone. The entire scene was just... elegant.
          I am alone. Left to thrive in this world alone. No one to come and save me, I had to save myself. When I was a kid... I used to think some stranger would come and tell me that my family wasn't actually my family. They weren't a bad group, they were just... insignificant. And I wanted to be different. I wanted to change. A new name, new life. The carpenters son... became a carpenter. It is so futile. And I wanted to be... important.
       I had a power. An.. ability. I wanted to use it. So I did. I manipulate my way into situations that some men hope they never have to endeavor. But me... I wanted it. I wanted to walk into that house find those three men playing poker and I wanted to take what they had. Not money, or family, or love. I wanted power. I wanted control. The man on the table had this such power. He could... he could move things with his mind. And I wanted it. And I knew exactly how to obtain it.
    Now we are here. You talking to me. Asking these absurd questions thinking that I will come clean and let you take me. But that is not the case. I want you as well. I want what you have. I want your power.