Faust

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-snippet #1-

Slowly the door opens. 
The light from the doorway creeps across the floor as the screech from the rusty hinge creates an echo through the dilapidated hallway.
THUMP!
My helpless body falls to the floor shaking the very foundation of my resting place.
As my eyes flutter, I cope to sit up as I furiously struggle to slow the gush of blood from my abdomen. 
The stump of footsteps striking the floor signals me to take cover.
“There’s nowhere to run” a voice grumbles. 
The added grunts sends a frightening chill down my spine.
“Fuck you! Kill me already” I managed to reply as a draught of blood spills from my mouth. 
Testament to the extent of my wound.
From behind the door, a shadowy figure makes its way into the room. 
Its heavy feet shakes the group with each lazy step towards me. 
There was nowhere to run. I was cornered. 
The sunlight behind it blinded me as it stood there. 
I could not see a face… its face. 
Aware that I was helpless I assumed he’d imagine how he would end what he started. 
My heartbeat raced a dozen miles a minute.
A horrible scream pierces my ears as this adversary projects from all fours launching into attack.
Finally, an image.
My final thought, as my vision fades and my fate is sealed.

Sweat drips from my brow. 
Frantically I pant, gasping for air; desperate to ease the race of my heart. 
The beats are in sync with the visions flashing through my mind. 
A dream? 
No. A memory. 
The howling wind sends shivers down my spine as I realize my sweat soaked shirt is now glued to my chest.
The moon seems to taunt me as it slyly gazes down at me. 
I don’t remember much of my life nor can I recall how the world got to this point but I do know for sure that I was dead. 
If you ask me, the whole thing is not all it's cracked up to be especially since being alive now makes me feel rejected… like perishable goods. 
Neither heaven nor hell wanted me.

Olsfred James 2013©

Dusk

I can feel

The darkness approaching

As I pace the darkening streets.

The sun takes it final breath

Over the horizon.

Through the ridges

And over the valley

The night casts its shadowy blanket

From once laying dormant

Until this time to be reborn.

Stumbling lazily

Over the rooftops and trees

Until finally everything

Is within its palm.

I am in complete understanding

Of the term deafening silence

With thoughts so loud

You could swear they were speech.

Thoughts racing through my mind

None courteous enough to allow deliberation.

The chirping has ceased

Paused momentarily

Replaced by the creeks and cracks

Of the nightlife inhibitors

It is difficult not to miss

The night time noises

The creeping from

Nocturnal creatures

Busily going about their habits.

The blazing yellow now transformed

To the chaffed gray and white

Reflected by the eyes

Of creatures staring back at me.

Tonight, everything seems a mystery

Even the trees seems faintly conspicuous

Swaying in the cool nights breeze

The moon is my only companion

Until the dawn returns to form.

Olsfred James 2013©

Fragments

 

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Tick. Tick. Tick.
As the time goes by
The resounding melody of a tearless cry
Figments of love, taken not replaced

Inescapable unrelenting
Thoughts obscured to the messages sending
Back tracking responses that should never exist
Sentenced to life in miserable bliss

Tenuous, this should never be
Hearing the murmurs of lies, like a melody
Yes... that sound resounding
Hammers away... the fracture...feel it coming

But who am I to judge? Whisper and point the finger
I lived this in your shoes bare backed through the cold of winter
While hungry dogs lashed at a bone I simper
Thighs on my neck as she claims I’m her own

To simply morn what was once so great
I dissipate

To less than I was before
These fragments of reality I chose to ignore.

Olsfred James & Mikhail Simmons 2013©

Fracture

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I heard it

Like thunder through the night

Breaking the silence of slumber

Shaking foundation

Echo, echo, echo

Echoing through the streets

A sound so familiar yet uncommon

Unusual to this place we all grew to label home

As if it were a phone call

We were eager to answer

Though we cringed by the message from the other line

We made our way outdoors

Hypnotized by this noise

Wanting…

Needing to know what it meant

We sought its origin

To confirm the fallacies of our neighborhood

Roaming through what should be the dead of night

Baring a winter’s cold against our skins.

By now the sirens made no sound our instincts did not already sense

For we had arrived

Arrived at the scene where his body laid

Limp and disfigured

Sprawled in the now pool of blood

His clothes torn at every point of impact

Yellow tape guarded by disco dancing uniforms barred entry

Eyes turned away; the faint of heart fled

A mother; in the midst of the cluster

Screaming in agony with knees to the concrete

Tainted forever by the actions of a few.

Even if you didn’t know him, tonight you knew him.

Caged at the back

The suspect sat awaiting his sentence

A sentence that would come too soon from the protesting hoard

Aggravated - a stone throw begins the ascension of judgment

Spider webs creep across the police glass

This “killer” had to be punished

And though the lawmen ordered cease and desist

They were no match for the wrath that would follow

When the car window shattered and their prize was dragged out to the ground

Knelt amid an angry mob

Pleads of innocence and cries of condolences would not soothe this night

They struck him.

Much to his dismay but not to his surprise

They wanted justice. They wanted blood

As they punched him.

Kicked him.

Flogged him with whatever they laid their hands on

The blood gushing from his forehead appeased it

There is peace in death we would hope

But for now there would be no silence for days of the weeks to come

Every heart in anguish from the 2 innocent slayings.

Olsfred James 2013©

Skeletons

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As the sun sets

I watch on as the loud orange colors fill the sky

The southern breeze hits icy against my skin

My shirt is soaked

I wipe the beads of sweat from my forehead

My palms are blistered

I stretch for a moment

Flexing my arms

Catching my breath.

He asks me if I am tired

I nod in approval

We switch

Tossing him the shovel

He takes my place in the pit

Tossing aside dirt and rubble

Digging away at its base

Carving away at its insides

I take notice of my dusty boot

Then my blood stained trouser 

I scratch a match

Cup my hands

And set light my cigarette

Inhaling deeply

The toxins of my crime

The toxins of my sin

Reminiscing.

He calls to me

Tells me it’s ready

Perfect width and depth

Ironically a little under six feet.

Without a word

We cradle him

His blood still fresh seeps through the blanket

Staggering by his weight

Until we toss him

To the final place he will lay

We stood there

In the silence of the eventide

Both eying the shovel nearby

Both apprehensive

We already knew what was next

Because three can only keep a secret,

If two of them are dead.

Olsfred James 2013©

Chrysalis

Dark skies

In the city gives way to the florescent white and amber

Running along in twos one behind the other

Reshaping our vision with these electrical suns

And daughters standing next to us like trophies we’d won

They say “There is no time like the present”

To let your name be known

To let your presence be felt

There is no time in tomorrow

If you dream it you can achieve it

Your only resistance is yourself!

To these streets we’ve roamed

Like a moth to a flame

Hand in hand

Though we knew not our names

Travelling across country,

Where these deformed metal horses did not exist

Nor houses were within a clouds reach

Concrete did not pave our streets

And any thoughts but as foundation was obsolete.

We all shared this connection

Calling us out to the open city

We had been forewarned not to enter

Yet we journeyed, nonstop,

Night and day to cross this border

Bent on dividing us

Bent on defining us

Anxiously along - hoping

Our hearts did not betray us and mend this bond broken

Danger knew our names

Yet surrender did not

We had arrived at our destination

Reminiscent of the battles we fought.

We are,

The sons and daughters of tomorrow

The creatures of the night

Nocturnal by habit

Cursed to question their thinking

Pushing the boundaries of our limits

No judgment, contempt or penalty

Free to be whom we are meant to be

Olsfred James 2013©