lived

there sits an old man, once full of promise. he grew old, and outgrew the life he was meant to live. on his own at the cafe, sipping on his old man coffee while going through his old man morning paper. his old man glasses reflected the sun that rose that morning, magnificently. his old man pipe, fumed off old man smoke almost like a human chimney. only old dispositions, can describe this old man's supposed position, in life, in reality itself.

his mind wanders, as how he use to wander in his travels. wandering through many adventures alone, as he wonders what life promised him when he was given the chance to live. he sees himself as an intrepid traveler, going where no man has gone before, and one night he did. he recalls, a time when he was younger, healthier and brimming with this zest called life.

the time was midnight, he was walking through a mountain range. pacing as fast as he could walk, hoping to reach the end of the mountains by daylight. in his chase for pace, he fails to realize a figure that lurks standing ahead of him on his wayward path forward. when he reached that point, only then he realized the figure that stood before him. it was a woman, in a white dress. many thoughts suddenly ran across his mind, from nightcrawlers to ghosts, among the many absurd thoughts that his mind could muster in milliseconds.

the woman, stood there in silence and in calm. slowly turning to look at him. he froze, in terror not knowing what to make of it as his mind tries to grasp the whole situation. her skin, was as pale and white as milk, her eyes piercing like sharp knives would. but, it was her hair that stood out in the dead of night, her long flowing hair was a deep red, almost like blood and it shone in the pale moonlight. after, a long pause that was made of undecided silence, she starts to speak.

"i am Žofia, i am the owner of the slovak mountains and the very ground you're standing on, wanderer" she paused in expectant of a response, which could be him fleeing for his life.

but him, being the intrepid traveler. he stood his ground, the very ground that this woman owns. even when his knees, was buckling under the influence of fear.

"why have you come this far, and not pay me a visit?", she spoke in succint assurance.  "what have you brought to offer me?"

"i know not of what you say. i am just a weary traveler passing through." he replied, trying to mask his fear. with a whiff of courage he could muster he asked her, " who are you, owner of these slovak mountains and the very ground i stand on, may i ask?".

she laughed, her heart out almost shrieking, at this point he wonders does she even own a heart to start with. her laughter echoed, in the night, disturbing the wild habitat that makes the woods of the mountains. she took a moment to compose herself and answered.

"oh, what courage you have, wanderer. most men would cower even at my sight let alone speak to me and for that i will answer you. i am to how you mortals call me, the devil," she replied in sly, a wry smile etched slowly on her face.

"and to what do i owe you this honor of your presence, devil?" he asks, gaining confidence after hearing what she said about the other men that flee before him.

"ah, owe is a word i am most fond of. that is true, wanderer. you owe me many but i will only ask you of one." she paused, as she looks at the full moon, lighting the panorama that is the mountain range in bright lighted magnificence as she continues, "i am about to offer you something mortals yearn in their life, eternal love and finding their one true love and in exchange, your soul"

he took a moment to ponder her offer, and answered, "and to how will i earn your offer and know that this promise you will keep, like the devil you are and the hell you came from, you are masters of deceivers."

she laughed, again like before and replied, " young man, i am the devil but i am a devil of my word and my contract is bounded by it as to how you will to it". she continues, "you will meet your one true love by daylight when you reach the end of this mountains. my offer stands as it is, and if you do not accept you will live a life of loneliness and solace."

the old man, seem to have just woken up from a daydream. in his old man daze, he looked around him and realized he is still sitting alone at the cafe, holding the old man morning newspaper. his expression, deep in thought as he ponders his intrepid adventures a long time ago. as he is still alone, then and now.

does "devil" being "lived" spelled backwards mean that to "live" is "evil"?

stay

"where do you go when you tell the whole world you're running away?",  he asked in a tone so silent, even whispers sounded like echoes over a mountain range.

he woke up by the sea. amongst the rocks where the waves collide. where they were together, the night before. where his being, stripped bare down to his soul, an abyss of deep despair and solemn notes sung in hymns. never any emotion, felt as ethereal as it did before. as if that moment, the surreality imposed was meant as a revelation, like only the eyes of immortals see.

"love, stay.  that it is with me that you are home. and that it is with me that you belong", he said in a stutter of the lips and trembling eyes full of sadness.

his arms were open, in expectant to reach hers. but his love, pulled away and her gaze astray away lining the line that makes the horizon. her arms are crossed, almost as if they were starcrossed like how the universe meant it, like how cold shoulders turn and shrugged. she stood, calm and silent. unperturbed and unflinching at the flurry of emotions that emanated around him behind her, almost as bright as the sun and as dazzling as rainbows after the rain. she could feel, how he might have felt. the sadness, the ennui and the forlorn state of letting go of everything. but she could not feel anymore, unlike before. when he was the stars, that shone bright in her universe.

without any word, without any warning, her body slowly levitated off the ground. signaling, that she was ready to go. she turned around, to face him. her body, lighted up in a hue that resembled the aurora borealis of the northern skies. the colors pulsing, like a womb of a shield, shielding her whole form. the colors resonated a sound, a hum of sorts, almost tantric and mesmerizing to anyone that hears it. she was more beautiful, than before he met her. the light that emanated around her, shone as if showing her soul and her real being. he stood there, agape and taken aback and not knowing what to do or make of it.

she looked at him, listlessly and said, " i want you to know, that my leaving is not out of selfishness"

she turned and flew away, making a trail of light across the night sky heading towards the heavens. in almost an instant, she was gone like how she came into his life. she did not hear his cry, a cry as loud as the thunders in the sky.  as loud as a mortal man can. but, it was to no avail.

his knees turned weak and he could not stand anymore. as his knees bended and kissed the earth, he came to realize, his mortality is his weakness.

to lovers that went wrong

the moon cuts a perfect silhouette. a silhouette not only of shape, but a mould out of emotions. tonight, the shape is made of dark, sombre sorrow. a shape made by two lovers searching for an answer. their only answer, and the reason to everything, like, why they are where they are. the night was as cold as their hearts. a never ceasing winter, with no summer on the horizon. not even, the turn of day with the sun rising, could wash away their dismay. they see each other tonight, for the first time in a very long time. their longing, and how much of themselves they miss, only god can describe. their meeting, was set by a written note.

"meet me there, where the moon hits the sea. where our love was reverie. bring your mouth, and selective irreverence. we will see each other after so long. we will look at each other as if wires are connecting our eyes. we will be using our tongues. but we will not speak. no words we will utter, only our resplendent tongues colliding."

written in light ink, the words written in the note rang louder than anything. somehow, words even in reticence speaks volumes. somehow, a paragraph of words, that could be misconstrued knew exactly what they were feeling. the longing, was the short of it when they realized, the empty downward spiraling fall into the abyss without each others presence. the space, that grew with distance, that echoes the plea for help with no answer. they are the youth they grew up hearing about and here they found themselves lost in it.

they meet, as if in celebration to the love that went wrong. staying true, to what the note read, in silence they embrace each other, until their longing diminish with every second of touch. tightly, they held hands as they watch the moon and the horizon collide.

pierre dupluis

pierre dupluis is a silent man. who have always kept to himself. he is a watchmaker, and punctual time-keeper of sorts. 24 years young. he wears a brown vintage browline glasses. a family heirloom passed down for 3 generations. a solid man's man spectacles with character, his father always told him. he steadies his solid man's man glasses, holding it in between his index finger and thumb. he then ran his fingers through his hair, a compulsive habit he could not shake off since his juvenile days. his hair, brown auburn slightly greased, immaculately side swept with a fine toothed hair comb which is always in his left pants back pocket. in the sunlight it shone majestically. even being the purveyor of great hair, pierre dupluis is a modest man.

on this fine day, pierre dupluis is a dapper man. wearing his grey pants which he thought fitted him perfectly and a suit jacket with a patch at the elbows, which he thought would be good protection if he decides to fall on his elbows. his checkered shirt buttoned to the top and complete-wrapped with a nifty black bow-tie. on his right arm, a gem from his collection of watches. a piece which he could rightly call his masterpiece, his magnum opus. handmade by yours truly, to the tiniest of details, and almost a faultless design if not flawless.

his confidence is high for that particular time of day and he is certain that he is ready. all ready to meet forever. forever is a girl, he is about to meet. he does not know when she will arrive nor how. but he is completely certain that she will. he sits silently, on the park bench with a full bouquet of roses at the ready like a quiver full of arrows and his arms the bow to bend for an anticipatory embrace. he sits still, as time passes by and the fine sunny day takes a turn.

pierre dupluis is a patient man.

nebula dagger

the astronaut, the lone universal traverser of the universe. an exile and a self-imposed outcast sets out accumulating the stars again, minus the moon. because moons only change the tides and lent only light at night. he is, a solemn character, and a victim of causal despair. the tragic, desolation of the idle hopes and mismatched au pairs and the bite of bitter chocolate eclair.

he sits alone at the bridge of the ship, his hands steering the majestic navigation controls of the highly advanced and alien race reverse engineered technology. his eyes, dead set ahead. but, his mind is occupied by other things, like dinner, the toothpaste chicken cordon bleu with mint sauce or cube brazilian churrasco meat with shredded lentil leaves in olive oil. and then, there is her, the forever occupant of his mind.

she, is the part of the universe he can never call home until found. the object of his search, the sole purpose of his courage on his intrepid travel. she is the nebula here and thereafter. she is the part missing in full set trilogy of epic armadas and wars in space. the sudden saga, of neverending stories told to children, not before bed but when they wake up in the morning. when they're kneeling beside their bed in a tone of ennui, but with melancholic undertones. like shades of black almost going grey, a judging act of political disobey.

she remains elusive after 23 years. when he first met her. she is made of the rare substance that makes the universe. an element tangible yet intangible. she is there but never here. she is finite yet infinite. her looks can only be described with a song. a song only sung by sirens, heard by men as they plunge to their deaths. at the time of her sight, she lay lazily in between the cat's eye nebula and the eagle nebula. and now, she is lost and never to be seen.

she is the nebula dagger. the queen of nebulas, by nebulaic proportions. the future purveyor of the astronaut's demise. the one that knifed a dagger through his heart and not take claim. the one that he needs to find, to lay to rest.

specific abyss

"and that the balance is of measured appraise. would it be out of place, in this place where we are with our where-with-all and a specific abyss without any falls and the pitfalls are where we should stand not with all" she thought, in her world of wrought set only to rot to the day, till the day set entitled to dismay. a displaced displacement set on chasing pavements and the joie de vivre setting of colloquial conundrums, where go, goes when it stops, where it stops.

and that the balance is only measured in full. at half, the chase is made of haste and a whiff of distaste. a tip of the tongue, sensed a waste. a perfect yet imperfect craze, clouded with a haze of deception and a delicate set of inept animation crept upon traps.

this masquerade, will not cease with ease at ease, to appease the mass and bothered brethrens that she calls in solace and solemn. she wears this badge of a setting sun, as she sets her heart worn on sleeves to show hours that she makes in her attempts to justify the just that the unjusts jest at her chest adorned with scars, at best.

ice monster

he couldn't decide which hurts the most. his head hitting the wet concrete floor or hearing the cracking sound his skull made. all he knew is that he could drown in his own blood right now. he was once a lion but it has come to this. he came home, to fall.

face down. blood slowly trickling. collecting into a puddle as soon as it hits the floor. the puddle made ripples as he tries to breathe. struggling for dear life. as he moves in and out of conciousness. his body bounded to a chair. flesh tingled at the touch of cold steel. wrists singed by handcuffs.

"where's the girl?" the man asked. "get him up"

vision blurred. ears ringing. a result of a stationary form bounded to a chair and baseball bat to the side of the head.

"she's gone. she's gone cross the border, man. and you'll never gonna see her again" summoning the ounce of strength he had left to reply. "i could give a fuck all what you do to me. just leave her out of this"

inspired by: minus the bear - ice monster http://youtu.be/tfn3CMhZ7UQ