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The Next Lord Of The Central City. 30
In the twilight yawn of heaven's black rose two tall trees of sombre peeking green, their tops a round as if drawn in mathematical precision. And as I gazed at them for a blessed moment, the kind that could be any length at all in the twinkle of eternity, I saw the eyes of an owl, great and wise. Before I could breathe another, before my brain was capable of any other notion, I was behind those green owl eyes in the sky looking down upon the black-cradled ground. For these were the eyes that watched all the galaxies in the dominion of love, the ones that belong to our guardian, our God. And to them I was a speck, safe and happy, so at home there in the sky, there in a place that touches our reality and yet belongs to another.The vision? Tell the vision? Tell of what we dream will be? To show the vision, to tell the vision, we will need a tell-he-vision show, naturally, my dear Watson.From the beauty of the dreamscape, in the place between the thoughts and the movies of the nighttime
The Next Lord Of The Central City. 31
The day I stopped believing that you loved me, that you would protect me in the same ways I protect you, we were over. The relationship breakup was set in motion from that point onwards.Once I ran through fire for you; now my love for you is ashes. The wind catches it every day, a macabre confetti. All I do is wait for your anger and watch more fly away, cinders that should have been petals in softest pink."The man you were, the one I married, would have kicked your ass all over this God damn room for talking to me like that. You were someone. You were that guy, the one who had the principles and the backbone."The past few days were nothing but fun, but they were only that way because I gave you everything you wanted... and we both know you got everything. Then you destroyed me with your words, found every perceived fault. When I failed to acquiesce you got more angry and became entrenched. You think yourself better than the 'one night stand' guys, and in many ways, you are. But yo
The Next Lord Of The Central City. 32
The confessing codes need a master to handle them. They cannot be interpreted by one who is an amateur of the craft. Everybody confesses everything, their deepest crimes and fears in everyday language. For a code-breaker it is simple to follow the trail and expose them all. Gemma was one of the linguists who could break them. Some saw what she did as magic, yet in truth she was partnered to the positive universe, a tool of the divine force and saw nothing special in herself. She was as natural as the trees and the fish in the oceans. Yet in the "junk" speech, the ad libs and the stories people tell, in their creative flourishes, there are clues. Much is actually junk, fears of nothing and misplaced guilt, yet a master such as her could tell what was real because the universe placed flags only she could detect, shone lights that only she could see. It was as if her soul shone a black light and the criminals were marked in some invisible ink. She was the ultimate detective, the one sent
The Next Lord Of The Central City. 33
In late spring, the newly freed petals flutter as butterfly wings, bright and soft, taking their place in the garden foliage. Together they create rainbow stepping-stones for every creature bold enough to see it.Rose petals tumble from a placid sky, brilliant reds waking a wintry morn. The bride and groom run through nature's confetti in their jeans and toques, a frigid breeze carrying the delicate perfume into the city air. With a warm smile radiating to her well-wishers, the bride raises a hand to ward off the flurry, a fresh gold band glinting in the sunlight. The newly minted Mr. and Mrs. jump into an old chevy, its once cherry paint sun-bleached to a well worn shade, tin cans tied to the bumper.Long after the wedding car has gone, the petals remain - splashes of summer blooms on the grey sidewalk. A passing child stops to scoop some up, filling her pockets. An elderly couple points and chatters with nostalgic glee. But most folks hurry on unaware of the rose petal carpet they w
The Next Lord Of The Central City. 34
Home baking was a thing I picked up, such as some learn the guitar or take up some sport. At first I wasn't so good, but the more I paid attention to the details and tips, the better I got and the more fun it was. I learned to grease my pans properly and measure my ingredients right. Now that I'm actually a good baker, now that the things I make can hold their own with what professionals make, I am free to make up my own recipes and change things around. I love that. It's just as with anything I guess, you have to learn the rules before you can break them in your own artistic way.The woman sits in the chair by the window until she is moved back to the bed. In the bright spring daylight her hair is snowy and skin like a wax dummy, crudely carved with tools too sharp. Her head is in constant motion as if agreeing with sentiments no-one else can hear or perhaps the ruminations of her own mind, mulling over a lifetime that draws to a close. On her dresser stand many photographs including
The Next Lord Of The Central City. 35
Chantara stepped into the woods and saw tons of trees. Into the jocund day the tree stood as cheerleader to each passing spirit.The tree in the ever-hug of the atmosphere, crows the hillock and flourishes both wand and foliage.Tree bark is the brown fingerprint of my soul, for as I touch it I feel a divine connection spark.The tree leans into the sunny rays as if they were lovers in eternal trance.Though black heavens and sun-lit days, the tree is sentry to landscape, the stoic guardian of so many souls.The tree is the grand poem of the living world, a beauty that encourages the spirit to dance though words, to make our odes to it's branches that spread heaven-bound. And in the strong light of the new day it creates a kiss for the senses in those moving leaves, the thousand green hues and the soft whispering in the wind.There in the centre of a million grassy wands stands a tree, her bark so patterned as if carved by her own rain-born flash rivers. She stretches up, as if so pr
The Next Lord Of The Central City. 36
My home was the definition of "perfect", and by perfect, I meant perfectly still. Not an utter of noise coming from children's crying or fighting, no screaming and arguing from a wife, no disturbing sound from the television or radio - all in all, no distraction at all. Especially while I was having a man-to-fish word of advise with my only roommate, Sam triple zero eight."Do tell me Sam triple zero eight, how is it that the woman from page two hundred and twenty three was totally mad?" I asked him and he was lost in deep thought. It was a befuddling question indeed, "perhaps she was cursed?" I asked again, and the wind gushed in via my open windows. "Sam triple zero eight, do say something." Snorting at my funny question I realized why my roommate hadn't uttered any reply. "I know right? There is no such thing as a curse."Sunday morning was going so well as it usually did. It was my day off like it used to be every Sundays and I was having the day of my life. You see, I whisked a
The Next Lord Of The Central City. 37
Monday morning was quite alright just as it used to be. At exactly 6:29 am, I was up, ready in my hands was a big glass of lukewarm mixture of distilled water and fresh lemon juice. I never missed a weekday without taking my healthy to-go diet drink. Then the rest of other human daily activities were carried out; brushing of the teeth, bathing, friendly greeting with roommate, special preparation of healthy salad with extra virgin oil dressing(and also another glass of lukewarm lime and water mix) ten minutes of frog jumping (for exercise of course) and I was off to work.Only thing that befuddled me at work that day was the same dream I'd been having lately. It happened again the night before and almost ruined my morning. My eyes shut closed and ignored the faint chattering of the customers spewing out their life histories. Soon, all the noises became a faint in-the-background muffling and muttering.I was in a room, with nothing but darkness as it's atmosphere, yet, it was all black.
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