Good words are worth much, and cost little...

It's been a bit since the last post but a baby being born into our lives will do that!  Welcome to this world: Nathan Christopher Maurer, born 5/1/14 at 6:17pm EST, 8lbs 12oz and 20.5 inches long!

The joy of my life...best thing that ever happened to me no doubt!  Now onto to the words of a much younger me, 20 years ago or so I'd measure. Whether good or bad, coal or a diamond, these were my words:

-=-=-=-=-=-

SEARCH
Past the Realm of narrow thought
slipping through a past not fought
trip the light fantastic pain
ripping through like raging train
stopped by hope's undying truth
peaceful bliss storming loose
like a reign of holy calm
the presence like a healing balm
yet your doubts still plague the mind
searching for answers none can ever find
unnecessary doubts, unquestioning faith
searching for your one true place
still can't help that nagging sound
while growing pains yet drive you down
to grow, must question, to question - learn
with knowledge past experience burns
now continue on this path true st
this never ending, winding trek

INNER CONFUSION/INNER PEACE
Simple desires, complicated minds
Always searching for what you may never find
Eternal fighting, searching for love
Forever reaching for what you dream of
Living your life with pain teaching you
Constantly changing all that you knew
Learning from mistakes, your pride they can't take
Forever adapting through each heart break
now by yourself, self assurance is made
Pieces of your sanity, the coin you have paid
Now finally collecting pieces of you
Puzzle fit perfect, the one and the true
Finding yourself somewhere underneath
Fighting and struggling to reach inner peace

LIBERATION
Simple games of the mind
Dance to a tune that cannot bind
Uncontrolled by civil ways
Playing in their piercing gaze
Break the noose, the ties that bind
No limitations for you to find
Deny the corruption you see all around
Whilst your mind, you imagine unbound
No matter the source, darkness can't toiuch
Forever denying man's unseen crutch
Yet unlike the others, you can play the game
While keeping soul safe, and remaining sane
Untouchably pure, innocent as the babe
Unlike the others, accept what you've made
Denial and fear, the others will learn
Without acceptance these feelings will burn
Still within this dark Hell, you sense some small hope
If with their mistakes these people can hope
To grow and to learn man's ultimate goal
Still their humanity, from Eden once stole
Whether Biblical source, or true test of time
Humanity's curse has hidden the signs
A goodness inherent trapped in us all
Fighting society, with this stop the fall
Still pulling you down, many will try
Fighting their ignorance, with light, till you die
Then embracing eternal, the mark you will leave
A memory of hope that many will see

GAME OF FAITH
Play the deadly, dancing game
Faith is lost on the insane
Tip-toe past the realm of what
With the blade of truth - clear cut
Faith, a game - taught few can win
Yet unredeemed, still based on sin
Baptized at birth, choice then stole
Again in youth, still what you're told
Growing now, this faith you question
World teach all, a daily lesson
In your mind, your faith will grow
With the seeds experience sews

It's About That Time (To Bring Forth The Rhythm & The Rhyme)....

Here with your latest installment of more of my jumbled words from the mid-90's...


SHADOW PLAY
Dream the dream of a thousand lies
pain's the reality your brain still denies
the truth so painful you cannot accept
turn and ignore the tears that you've wept
run while you can, no use to hide
from the darkness you feel deep inside
the more you try, the harder it seems
feel the burn as your soul does scream
trip into darkness, fall through the light
faster and farther, you're losing your sight
spinning through void
with your heart they have toyed
once blissful soul, through anger destroyed
trapped in unknown, rage has grown
shadow dancing's become your home
with the pain that's made you real
before the god of fear you kneel
touched by the hand, you start to shudder
through clenched teeth you barely mutter
sounds of the hell within
'neath the layer of burning skin
feel the fire as it grows
see the darkness no one knows

ECHOES
Desperate voices speak within
with those words begin again
echoing anger, screaming rage
still unwilling to turn the page
they speak of love not soon forgot
remnant feelings these are not
still a rage burns in your soul
for too long, without control
lingering feelings, hate remains
so sick and tired of playing these games
lash out and hurt, control still denied
lies telling lies, the voices have tried
telling the truth of a past not learned
repeated attempts, blind eyes have turned
denial, betrayal, thoughts turn to the past
knowing at heart, a dream just can't last

MIRRORS
mirror image, pain reflected
once again - true self rejected
you have lied and you have cried
by yourself life's been denied
mirrored fear - whirling death
speaking words with dying breath
mirror shows what's trapped within
years of pain worn on your skin
still blind as mice to the proof
yet your eyes scream of the truth
your worst fear still as you grow
reflected is no face you know
but patience isn't yours to grasp
slipping through your fingers, last
years and years, reflections change
as you wake up to the game

HOPE
New release changing the old
making false all that you've been told
erasing all life, all that you've been taught
again denied for what you have fought
striving to reach that next plateau
by all ignored, denied you still grow
refusal to accept this as the fact
struggling with the wall at your back
yet don't stop, don't ever give up
fight to the finish, goodnight and good luck

Words...words...words

It all continues circa the 1995-1997 range for these ones:


PAIN NOT FORGOT
Lost in though, ignoring the world
by emotions, your thoughts and actions are ruled
with little control, you drift through your life
tension so high, can cut with a knife
stress overwhelming, drowning in void
thoughts incoherent, lost love destroyed
look down the barrel life has become
twisted and tortured, cold steel of the gun
with tunnel vision, blind to the truth
can't see the light, despite all the proof
anger building, crescendo is reached
learning a lesson that none can teach
still the rage grows within
scared to fail and relapse again
for too long you've hid and ignored the voice
now actions leave you with no other choice
want to lash out at all those around
scream in silence and none hear the sound
of the darkness deep inside
the repeating echo of an eternal cry
to heaven and hell, now trapped inbetween
clearing the path with a primal scream
repeating mistakes from now til the last
never forgetting the sins of the past

FEAR FACTORY
Abandon, goodbye, the tears that you've cried
all for a hope that long ago died
seeing their faces cast on the wall
speaking in silence, they can't stop the fall
relying on others for a true sense of self
dependent on feels, still denying yourself
without a purpose, condemned in your hell
fooling them all to thinking you're well
although opportunities arise all around
you're trapped by a wall while fears they surround
memories of love, peace, and of hate
unsure of yourself, yet painful to wait
so inside of your shell, you sit and you stare
knowing the truth of life, never fair

HIDING
Goodnight, farewell, I'll see you in hell
along with the secrets you never did tell
hiding the truth from the one you need trust
never living the life that you must
still you run  and hide from the mass
ignoring your feelings from now til the last

ACCEPTANCE
Why the games that people play
used to cover what they're afraid to say
is the truth so bad that they must cover
their true selves from one another
a little white lie, a desperate try
to keep it from ending and saying goodbye
they play the fool, just to be cool
by the longing their actions are ruled
a simple desire to be in the crowd
they speak in a voice that's never too loud
twisting and turning, in lies they are caught
most never knowing the pain they have wrought
pushing all away, like a sign from above
always destroying what they have loved

The Rhymes Continued...

I couldn't tell you exactly when these were penned, sometime during my early High School career is about as pinpoint accurate as I can be, suffice it to say that I was obviously in a very dark place writing these.  What I remember about the actual writing process though isn't all that different from how things tend to work when I write things out nowadays, I just sit there and stuff falls out of my brain.  There generally isn't a plan or an endgame in mind, I just...write:


=========================

VOICES

pain streaks down, screaming lies
from the fear you're paralyzed
sadness breaks and anger comes
telling you you've been undone
the pain now feels your only right
screaming at you each lonesome night
the hate and rage no longer yours
above the mindless sheep you soar
yet that voice still in your head
telling you "You're better off dead"


ESCAPE

You thought you'd fool yourself to believing this lie
truths always there no matter how hard you try
can't run from the thoughts you're trying to hide
feel the fire of the pain deep inside
you can't keep this up it's tearing you down
trapped like a rat, you spin round & round
no easy way, no escape from this game
trying and dying til it drives you insane
you reach out for help, slapped in the face
trapped inside of yourself - empty space
thoughts incoherent, emotions explode
reaping the results of what someone else sewed
out of control, a true crash & burn
from your mistakes you can't seem to learn
eventually once the pain might stop
before or after your sanity drops?

SPIRITUAL SUICIDE

shooting pain, facing death
stare it down, feel its breath
icy hot, searing cold
lie and pain & fear untold
unknown anger, senseless pain
drilling, driving, spinning insane
eternal dark, endless night
turn in rage, run in fright
escape, escape - nowhere to run
on your temple, feel the gun
eternal damnation, eternal life
one is the other, stabbing knife
bouncing back, spinning in time
no end but death, never mine
blood red streak, no voice to speak
reaper's come to cull the weak
black unknown, home sweet home
sweetest embrace you've ever known
release from this, clench your fist
gone from this life-you're never missed

CONSEQUENCE

Now it's done
your time has come
the life you led has brought you dead
you beg & plead
still none heed
your source of strength
sent you beneath
the reaper's come
now life is done
prepare yourself for the unknown
for he has come to take you home

Diary #1 from Omega 2 C-4

Welcome to the 2nd edition of my ongoing dig through my personal literary archives. This one comes from either 7th or 8th Grade, apparently from whatever my 7th hour class was that year at Potterville Jr/Sr. High School.  I vaguely remember that the assignment was to write a journal entry (possibly multiple journal entries since this paper is labeled numero uno) from the perspective of either someone in the future, someone who lives in space, or possibly both.

Not to pat myself on the back or anything (which is always what someone says before they do exactly that) I did get a 99/100 on this paper.  The one point deducted from this hand-written piece, and anyone who has seen my handwriting will find this funny, was actually for neatness.  Sad thing is that the handwriting on this thing is light years ahead of the state of my current scribbles.

So here it is, from sometime between the fall of and summer of 1993....


DIARY #1 - OMEGA 2 C-4

I just returned from home. Tales of an upcoming war have frightened me.  People are talking of rebellion. They say the Federation is slowly dissolving, that other planets are also very upset over their treatment. It scares me.

My solar system, like the federation, is crumbling.  Pollution, over-population, and loss of plant and animal life.  My planet in particular is, I mean was, an observatory, but because of major pollution and over-population the observatories were closed.  Through my planet's problems are small compare to the galaxy's. Food shortage, over-population, and pollution just to name a few. Some people feel the Federation has violated their rights.

On the bright side, my family's doing well.  After the observatories closed, my dad became a leader of the people that are against the Federation.  Even though he's wanted for crimes against the Federation, he has managed to avoid capture.  My mother recently had another child.  This means I'm no longer an only child.

Finally, the one thing I'm mixed up about.  Even though it's great to be home after three years, I didn't enjoy this visit much.  My father wants me to quit academy and join him.  Even though I agree with my father's ideas, I refused.  His life of running and hiding is not for me.

So I guess that's it for now.  Till next time.

The Framing of Blackjack Mahoney (Where It All Began I Suppose)

Rifling through my belongings as we prepared our second bedroom to become baby Nathan's nursery in a few short months, I came across a stash of various short stories, poems, and school papers I had written over the years.  Most of them are terrible, some of them might be half-decent, but all of them are part of what led to any writing I do in the here-and-now.  Some of it is college aged, some of it high school, and this one...the oldest one I found in the stash, I actually wrote in 5th grade!

So I decided to put these literary experiments some place they can exist in perpetuity, some place more secure than the pieces of paper in which they exist currently, and perhaps one day down the line I can show Nathan what just his Dad did when he was younger.

I warn you in advance, this one in particular, my 5th grade story, it is probably something quite terrible but I wish I had a scanner so I could share the hand-drawn illustrations that accompanied the text. These awful etching did earn me a "Cleverest Title Page" sticker on the front cover though!

So here you go, the oldest piece of writing I found in my stash, circa 1990 and my 5th grade class at Potterville Elementary School, I give to you a transcription of The Framing Of Blackjack Mahoney, complete with whatever spelling and grammar mistakes I made when I was 10 or 11 years old!

------------------------------

The Framing Of Blackjack Mahoney

It's Saturday night around 10.  The wind is rustling through the leaves and there were trees everywhere.  It's raining hard and everything is wet or damp.

Jack was at a party with Chris and Zac. The guy having the party had a Nintendo and over 80 games.  Chris beat them all.

"What a drag!" Zac exclaimed "Let's leave."

Just then the place was gassed.

Everybody was knocked out but Zac, Chris, and Jack.  Jack went after the gasser and caught him. He saw the crook had stolen cash and jewels.

"Blackjack!" Zac said surprised "I see we finally caught you!"

"You can't take me in" Mahoney protested "You aren't cops any more!"

"I know that" Jack replied, "We're helping them though, so we can arrest you"

"Well that stinks!"

Chris took Blackjack in and put him away.

The man has 60 aliases, the most common is Ace.  He has many others including Jack, Poker Man, and Ace Jack.

Ten days later, BOOM! Blackjack's broken out!

"After him" a man ordered "he's a criminal!"

Click, boom, arrgh! A shot rang out. The man lay dead.  Blackjack was now wanted for murder and fraud.

It was broadcast over a 110 mile area that he had broken out.

At the station Jack investigated the murder.

"Blackjack didn't kill the man." Jack announced

"Then who did?" Zac inquired

"I don't know."

They all thought. Jack shouted,

"Officer Mann!"

"Who?"

"Mike Mann, the head honcho at the station on New York Boulevard or our boss!"

"What, why?"

"Because he was bent on getting revenge, the man murdered had taken his old job."

In the morning, Jack and Chris spoke to their boss. When they left, Jack was waiting outside.

When the guys walked home, Jack took at "shortcut". On the shortcut Jack walked past the jailhouse just as a part of the wall came down and out came Blackjack.

"How did you get caught, Blackjack?"

"Cops barricaded my hideout and caught me."

"Hey...!"  Blackjack had knocked out Jack.  Zac and Chris wondered where Jack was and went looking for him.  They retraced the shortcut and saw the wall and Jack's hat was near it. Chris examined for finger and footprints.  He found footprints and followed them to Blackjack's hideout.  When Zac and Chris found the hideout and Jack, they told Blackjack he was being framed.

"Figures, a guy like me, everybody wants me put away."

"Will you help us Blackjack to find out who framed you?"

"Yeah I guess."

Blackjack, along with Chris, talked to Officer Mann.  While Jack and Zac investigated the boss's quarters.  Blackjack and Chris got some leads.  Jack and Zac found the murder weapon.  There were leads to both men.

The next day, Jack and Chris went to their boss's place.

"Why couldn't we go?" Blackjack asked.

"Beats me."

Jack told their boss there leads to him and Officer Mann on the murder. The boss turned around but before Zac and Jack could see him, they were punched hard.  While they were dazed, their boss made his getaway.  Blackjack and Chris saw their boss running and chased after him.  When they caught him, Blackjack saw his face.

"You...how could you?"

"Who is it Black..I mean Ace?"

"Believe me you don't want to know!"

"Yes I do!"

"Ok Chris, it's your father!"

Thud! A gun was fired, a body dropped, and a cop was dead.

"Get him!" Zac yelled "now!"

Shots rang out and they ran down the dark, steamy and grotesque alley.  Zac, Chris, and Jack grabbed trash can lids as shields, more shots.

It was now night.

Zac, Chris, Jack, and another officer threw the lids at the gunman.  He dodged two and was nailed by the others.

It was Officer Mann.

"Spill your guts Mann, why?"

"You know I hated him!"

"So, you murdered him?"

"No, Chris' dad did!"

"With your help?"

"Yes!"

The cops arrested Chris' dad and Officer Mann.

The next day Chris, Jack, and Zac became honorary officers and the murderers were given the death penalty.  Chris protested his father getting the electric chair but to no avail.

The next night, Officer Mann was gassed.  Just as Chris' father was going to die, Chris rushed in.

"Stop!"

"Why?" the man questioned.

"He's my father, that's why!"

"So."

"So, I...I...I...I."

"Out!"

So Chris left, depressed and alone. He got over the depression, after about a week or two, but he was still alone.

Chris though, "Dad's dead, Mom's gone, and sis moved, who do I have?"  Chris started talking out loud, "I don't have anybody!"

"You have me" a voice said

"Dad you're alive, but how?"

"They let me go because the felt sorry for you and I talked them into it."

"Great!"

They walked down to the station and told everybody.  Zac wanted to throw a party and invite Ace.

"Fine by me." Chris answered

"By the way where's he live?" Jack questioned

"In the condos at Sacramento Heights." Chris replied.

"Let's go!" everybody screamed.

The party went on through the night.  Everybody was partyed out in the morning.

"Great party, Chris." Zac said drowsily. Zzzzzzz. Within thirty minutes Jack, Zac, Pop, Ace, and Chris were out and asleep.

THE END

------------------------------

Yeah, so while that may not be the first thing I ever wrote, it is definitely the oldest one that is somehow still in my possession.  I suppose I will continue to make my way through the various stuff I found stashed away in storage.  

This ought to be one long, strange, and occasionally whiny (especially once I get to the "poetry") trip...  ;-)