The shank tank prophecy

MY Angel MY World- (My Write 11 years back)

2011-01-29T06:37:00.000-08:00

MY ANGEL - MY WORLD

MY EYES GLEAM HER RADIA'NCE HEAVENLY

AS SHE PASSES MY BREATH

HER EYES SHOW A NEW PARADISE

AND HER SMILES EXTENSION TO HEAVEN

HER HAIR RISKED TO BE TWILIGHT

HER FACE SERAPHIC AS

THEE HAD SCULPTED THE SECOND MOON

SHE STAY AN ENIGMA MARVEL

I FLOAT MY DREAMS

ON THE OCEANS OF HOPE

TO EACH DROP OF IT FILLED WITH TEARS

THESE TEARS AS HER QUENCH FOR THIRST

WATER

EVERYTIME I THINK OF THE PAST TOGETHER

I CANT FEEL MY BREATH

AS THE AIR STOPS BREATHING

AS WIND AROUND HER STAYS MY BREATH

WIND

HER HEAVENLY FACE SERAPHIC

BOILING MY DESIRES TO GET CLOSE

TO FEEL HER WARMTH

SHE MY INSPIRATION TO BURNING SOUL

MORE SHE IS CLOSE ,SHE IS MY

FIRE

TO MAKE HER UNDERSTAND AND PROVE

MY LOVE I WOULD RIP MYSELF BLEEDING

TO PLACE MY HEART IN HER HANDS

TO SHOW THE SHAPE OF MY LOVE.

AND I WILL DIE

AS SHE UNDERSTANDS ,I WILL DIE IN HAPPINESS

AS SHE DOESNT, I WILL DIE IN THE JOY

TO MAKE MY FLESH AND BONE UNDER

EARTH

WHERE I WILL FEEL HER AND BARE HER FOREVER

AND BEFORE SHE JOINS ME I WILL BIULD HER

A NEW HEAVEN UNDER EARTH

AS SHE IS AND WILL BE THE ONLY ANGEL IN MY HEAVEN!

SHE IS MY ANGEL -MY WORLD

WHO STAYS MY WATER,WIND, FIRE AND EARTH!

FROZEN TEARS

2010-11-19T02:30:00.001-08:00

THE PENDULUM OF DIRE STRAITS HITS MY HEART
AND BREAKS THE RYTHM AND RITUAL WHERE
"UR NAME ECHOES INSIDE ME AND THEN MY HEART BEATS "
I WALK BACK , INTO MY MIND FIELDS
I FOLLOW THE NARROW PATH LEADING TO THE RIVER SIDE,WHERE
MY EVERY BREATH ON UR DEDICATION ARE HUNG AS FRESH LEAVES ON THE TREE
AND THE BREATHS LEFT YESTERDAY AND THE PAST ARE
DRY LEAVES COVERING THE GROUND
I KNOW ONE DAY U WILL WALK ON THEM .
I WONDER HOW I CANT REALLY
LOOK AT YOU , U ARE MUCH TOO BEAUTIFUL
NOW I CAN LOOK AT U AS ONE LOOKS AT YOU
AS A RIVER WHICH AS FOUND ITS OWN BED .
EACH OF IT TURNS ,EACH OF IT AS FISH
EACH OF IT AS SUNSET BETWEEN THE BLUE SNOW CAPPED MOUNTANS WHICH ARE MINE AND MINE ALONE .
NOW I CAN MIRROR MY SELF IN UR CALM FLOWING WATERS
WHICH IS FROZEN NOW ALONG WITH FALLEN PETALS OF FLOWER,THE BARGES AND THE DESERTED MINING TOWNS
WHERE THE LOVERS GET DRUNK AND
DROWN THEMSELVES IN UR MOON SHINE
AND ARE WASHED UPON THE BANK
IN THE DISTANT COUNTRIES WHEN
WE MEET IN OUR DREAMS.

AS I WALK BACK
MY EVERY BREATH ON UR DEDICATION ARE HUNG AS FRESH LEAVES ON THE TREE
AND THE BREATHS LEFT YESTERDAY AND THE PAST ARE
DRY LEAVES COVERING THE GROUND
I KNOW ONE DAY U WILL WALK ON THE DRY LEAVES
TO DROWN URSELF IN THIS RIVER OF MY FROZEN TEARS!

A Bee Hive

2010-10-01T12:05:00.000-07:00

I DONT FEEL THE SAME AFTER U LEFT
I FEEL IT HARD TO SLEEP,I FEEL
I AM ALL BUZZING AND ALIVE
LIKE MY HEART IS BEE HIVE
BEES ARE MESSENGERS OF MIND
THAT FLY OFF IN COLONIES TO BRING
WORDS AND SEQUENCES OF MY POEM.
FEW ARE NARRATED OUR LOVE,THAT
SOME FLY TO THE PLACES WHERE WE SPENT TIME.
SOME ARE WARRIORS WHO WANT TO FLY TO U
MAY BE THEY DO SO,THEY COME BACK WITH FINEST OF HONEYS,SOME SAY THEY HAVE TURNED FIRE FLIES IN UR RADIANCE,THEY SING AND DANCE IN THE RHASPODIES
OF SEEING YOU.
FESTIVALS BEGIN WITH HUMMINGS AND BUZZING,
THEY CALL ME TO DANCE IAM NO BETTER THAN
THEM IN THIER VICTORY.
EVERY DAY I COLLECT HONEY FROM THE HIVE
THOSE ARE WORDS THAT DESCRIBE YOU
THAT BECOME MY POEMS
THE INVISIBLE TREE THAT HOLD THE HIVE
ARE UR ARMS ,WHICH IS BRIDGE BETWEEN
MY BODY AND SOUL
WHERE I WILL SLEEP IN THESE ARMS
EVERY DAY TILL MY LAST BREATH
AS I CLOSE MY EYES :
THERE ARE PRAYERS TO THEE
YOU IS WHAT IS SEE
iam replied WE ARE MEANT TO BEE

A BEE HIVE - ALL ALIVE!

MY OATH

2010-07-09T14:53:00.000-07:00

I WONT GIVE THE COMMITMENT OF LOVE OR MARRIAGE OR ANY KIND OF NEXUS.THEY ARE FIXITY AND FICTIONS OF FATE

I HAVE GIVEN THE COMMITMENT OF LIFE

I WILL NOT FULL FILL IT.

BUT I WILL LIVE IT, IN THE SHADOWS OF UR BREATH.

FOR THE AEONS WOULD GET TIRED LOOKING AT ME

WAITING FOR U.

Fall North by Tim McLean

2010-07-03T04:56:00.000-07:00

Ed was told to go to Boston to bring back Rollo's daughter. Ed had been to Boston before, knew his way around, and could be trusted to do what he was told. He was the best choice of all the boys. Pyres explained this to Ed twice, two more times than he needed to. Ed sat and drank his beer, not saying anything while Pyres rolled on.

'In case somethin' does happen, you know cops, you know how to get around. You know what you can and can't do up there. The getting around is the big thing. Those streets are crazy up there. Little one-ways and shit. No numbers. None of the other guys would be comfortable.'

Ed drank more of his beer. If Rollo wanted him to go, he would go. He did know Boston, though he did not see it as all that hard to get around, but certainly a different story from the grid of Manhattan. Ed did not need any convincing or explanations from Pyres. In fact, he did not know what Pyres' function actually was, or why a man like Rollo would keep Pyres around; but Rollo did everything for a reason, so Ed sat and drank and listened to every word Pyres had to say.

'Can you leave tomorrow?'

'Yes.'

Ed used the Merritt: There were no trucks allowed, and the leaves weren't yet peak color - no tourists yet. He had a bag with three days worth of clothes in the passenger seat. In the trunk he had a Smith & Wesson 9mm automatic with rounds and three spare magazines.

It was a Friday, and the drive took just over four hours.

Ed kept the Chevy under seventy, traveling east now on the turnpike, still among the farms and hills of central Massachusetts. He reached for his phone and dialed a 617 from memory.

'Yes?' An Arab voice scratched in his ear.
< 2 >

'Kurt. Ed. Busy?'

'Oh, my goodness. Where are you?'

Ed read a sign. 'Sturbridge. And closing.'

'Oh, that is wonderful. Are you going to be staying? I am having a party tonight. All the old people. Many faces you know, they will be happy to see their son return. Are you well?'

'Yes.'

'Will you be my guest?'

'Yes, Kurt. I have some business that may cut the party short for me, but I wouldn't miss it. I can't stay with you this time. I am getting a hotel - '

'The Charles. I will arrange it.'

'No, no, thank you, Kurt. I'll get something. It's better this time if I handle my own arrangements. I am open to suggestions, though. I need to be close to Brookline.'

'How about Newton?'

'Yes, that would be perfect.'

'Yes. The Sheraton, then. Exit 14.'

'Oh, yeah. I remember now. What time?'

'Oh, come early, if business lets you, my friend. Anytime after the sun goes down. Our friends will arrive after a dinner at the Pudding - can you believe it is still standing? This will give us time to talk. It has been a long time, Edward.'

'Too long. I'll see you soon.'

Rollo had named his daughter Eliza, which Ed thought was asking for trouble in the first place. The name made him think of sex and dirt and makeup. Ed had met her several times throughout the years, even drove her to and from school a few times, though he doubted she remembered it. He remembered her as a brat, yelling about things and swearing, even at an early age.
< 3 >

She was twenty now, and could not have thought Boston was far enough to run to or big enough to hide in. This must be a test, another push to see how far her father would bend. One day, thought Ed, Rollo would tell him to kill her. Rollo would give him the order while lining up a putt, or shuffling his papers, and Ed would do it.

For now, Rollo just wanted her hauled back down to the city. He had not even bothered to call Ed to Tribecca, to the sixth floor on Hudson Street, to tell him in person. Instead he got a long, slow hiss from Pyres in a bar on the West Side.

Alone in his room, Ed hung his jacket in the closet and laid out the pistol on the bed. He maxed out the handgun; fourteen Teflon-lined hollow point rounds in the magazine plus one in the chamber, and nestled the silver bulk into the worn Miami holster, counterweighing the gun with two full spare clips. He placed the whole affair in the top drawer of his dresser.

Ed answered the knock on the door in a towel, and tipped the boy who bought him his dinner with a twenty.

'Thank you, Mr. Forester.'

'Yeah. Take it easy.'

Ed ate and watched the sun sink past the highway. He wished he had gotten a room on the other side, to see the orange bounce off of the Hancock and the river like he remembered it.

In the growing dark, the Chevy slid along Soldiers Field Road by the river, onto 16 at Fresh Pond to Alewife. Ed cut off onto Rindge Ave, past the projects, and crossed Mass Ave, with the holstered pistol secure under his driver's seat.

Cambridge looked crowded and familiar, and there were already pumpkins on the stoops and ghosts in the windows as he crossed into Somerville. Outside of Davis Square, Ed parked the Chevy on a one-way and walked the block and a half to Kurt's house.
< 4 >

The lights were on and the shades all drawn at the square triple-decker. Ed circled the house slowly, admiring Kurt's landscaping efforts - a reasonable banzai station sat at the rear of the property. Two women he did not know passed by windows on the first floor, and then Ed finally caught sight of Kurt. He looked well, if perhaps heavier than three years ago. His glasses sat on his brown nose, threatening to fall, as ever. He gesticulated wildly to someone unseen, his eyes full of wine and mirth.

Ed turned at a noise at another window and grinned. A Rottweiler, his giant paws on the sill, was staring directly at Ed. His growl deepened so that Ed could hear him plainly through the glass. Kurt halted his pantomime and shot a suspicious glance out the window, unable to see a thing. Dog and man disappeared and soon the rear door opened.

'Make peace with your gods, my punks. That sign out front is no lie! Bruiser! On!' Kurt yelled his half-threat without direction as he loosed the animal. Bruiser bounded down the stone steps and straight at Ed, who stood still. As the dog closed, his growl slipped into an excited whimper and happy grunts. As Ed wrestled with the dog he saw Kurt peering towards them, unable to see, but with a smile spreading as he grew certain.

'Oh, my goodness. My son, come out where I can see you, you handsome bastard devil. Stop making love to my Bruiser. And he calls himself an attack dog.'

Ed straightened himself, disengaging with the mass of dark fur and licking wetness. He stepped out of the night and into the small circle of light the porch bulb threw, Bruiser now at his side with a new master.

'Ach. He was always more your dog than mine. Come here. You look well.'

The middle-aged man embraced the younger, and took him inside.

'It is the real thing, and the best. I have a friend in Barcelona, you would like him, he dresses like you. He sends this to me for the holidays.' Kurt poured them each a second small glass of absinthe. 'Your business, it does not happen tonight?'
< 5 >

'Not after this glass. I will take care of it tomorrow.'

'Then back to New York?'

'The plan is by Sunday.'

'Then lunch. We will go to the beach and have the thin beef.'

'Oh, god. I almost forgot. Of course.'

'Yes. The real thing. There has sprung up many imitators in and around the city. It is ridiculous. One cannot hope to duplicate the taste. The setting is part of it. The sea, the birds. The sea salt, it gets into the beef.'

More guests began to arrive. Ed could hear them outside the study door. Bruiser was lying on his friend's feet.

'How are your kids?'

'Morons. I do not know where we get them. It is worse than even in your years, Edward. They are morons, adrift in their idiocy. I try to keep them in the yard; out in the Square they will be hit by cars, or fall into the river.'

'There must be a few, though.'

'You were always my star. You know this, you were my favorite, my hope. A genuine sense for what is right and what is wrong. That, paired with a realistic knowledge of how the world works. In your years, Edward, it was not the intention that was lacking. All young people want to bring about a thousand years of peace and grass - you just thought you could do it by deciding it was the right thing to do. Marches.'

Kurt sipped at his green drink, letting it seep into his blood and color his memories. Ed was warm and happy from his first glass.

'Ach. The world is a clawed serpent, my son. It is a mechanism for rending flesh and grinding love to powder. We are little bags of jelly, created for some reason that must be humorous on a level beyond ours, created and then thrown into this machine. Without us to mash and grind, there can be no machine - take heart! At least we are necessary, and that is something. But without this process, this torture, we are nothing. The most we can do is to harden ourselves, to use any means, even the basest, to carve out whatever temporary peace we can for ourselves. To postpone the rending. The pain.'
< 6 >

Kurt seemed to drift off, and then came back.

'You. You always understood this. You, at nineteen, knew the claws and the cold. You had a halo of blood on your head, my son. The other Cambridge kiddies walked through the Square and peered at each other from inside clouds. They saw the cobblestones as soft, guiding hands - you saw them as they are. Bloody rocks.'

'Bloody rocks.'

They drank.

Kurt gave in for a moment. 'Oh, why did you not go to change the world? You were one of the only ones who knew how.'

'Who says I'm not?'

'Did you lose that part, half of the essential mix? Did you lose the urge to try to create peace? Or have you found a new way to see how the world works?'

'No, professor. I still see how the world works.'

Kurt was soon deep in absinthe, too hard to find behind those old glasses. They joined the larger party in the living room. A few people were dancing. Ed left after being introduced to the first two couples, Kurt trailing after him 'This was Edward! This was my one final hope! He is now a shadow in New York! Look on my failure! He is in politics!'

To Bruiser's dismay, Ed stole out the way he had come in, and let the fall air clear him out while he walked to his car. More guests were arriving and parking illegally.

Ed slept in his room in Newton until six. Pyres had given Ed a photograph of Chris Hammond. He was thick and covered in tattoos; a Boston tough guy. This was the man that Eliza was pretending could take her away from Rollo and New York. Hammond was connected with the South Boston crowd, but only one or two steps up from a nobody. He drove cars, sometimes helped beat up on kids and old men.
< 7 >

Pyres had also given Ed a recent black and white photograph of Eliza, a well-taken one at that, in Ed's opinion. It was flattering, and she was staring calmly at something off to the side, in the middle distance, as if listening to someone a few feet from her. Just in case you hadn't seen her in a while. Might be a lot of bitches with this guy, don't want you snatching the wrong one.

There was a Brookline street address scrawled on the back of a book of matches. Kid likes to party on Friday nights in Southie, but ends up back here at his Uncle's place.

Ed, the Chevy, and the photographs fled along Route 9. He slowed as he entered the side streets of Brookline, the million-dollar dwellings of stone glaring down at him from behind the bent backs of landscapers scooping leaves into bags.

At number fourteen on a windy hilltop street Ed parked at the curb and walked down the drive. The house had been converted from a stable a hundred years before, sat well back from any other property, and commanded a view of Cleveland Circle. Ed could see most of the Reservoir, and behind that the Middle Campus of Boston College. The facade of the house was narrow, and two cars sat in the circular drive. A gray Toyota truck bore plates that Ed knew from memory belonged to Eliza - a gift last year from her father. The second car was a nasty bit of European speedcraft, crouching half on the grass and gleaming in its paint so that even the fallen leaves seemed to give wide berth as they rustled past.

Ed never slowed on his way to the front door. He reached it, found it locked, breathed deeply, and knocked.

Almost immediately a heavy-set Asian man opened the door a crack and began to speak. The words were crushed, however, by the oak door as Ed uncoiled his entire body square into it. His motion began in his heels, legs straightening to unleash his full potential upwards and forward into the heavy wood, driving with his shoulder and gripping his pistol firmly in its holster. Lucky, thought Ed as he felt the door connect solidly with the man's mouth. A gout of blood stayed on the oaken corner even as the enormous man's body lurched back to follow his head.
< 8 >

Ed stepped into the house, closing the door behind him and drawing his gun in the same motion. He trained the Smith & Wesson on the Asian, who somehow stayed conscious and on his feet. The bigger man wore a gun as well, but was concerned only with his face; his eyes wide and his giant hands held near his mouth. He gave high, hitching breaths, but said nothing.

Ed motioned with the gun and the man seemed to understand, and began to kneel down, blood falling from his ruined teeth. Ed circled immediately behind him and shifted his weight to throw a wide, fast kick. Ed's boot was steel-toed, and connected at the man's temple with a wet spank. The enormous body slumped to the floor, motionless. Ed snapped out the man's revolver, thumbed out the cylinder and spilled the six shells out onto the marble floor, then tossed the gun into a plant.

The house was a line, one room behind the other, and Ed walked quickly through the foyer, a living room, a dining room, and a kitchen. The next door was small and closed, and Ed replaced his pistol before shouldering his way in.

Ed and the door splintered into the bedroom.

The room was dark, but the light that fell in through the broken door let Ed see enough. A shape moved towards him, and Ed let his arms and legs work by themselves; by touch. He gripped flesh in two places as hard as he was able and twisted Hammond's body to his left and forced him through the doorway. Hammond began to yell something, then yelled in pain. Out in the light, Ed could see that Chris was indeed a big boy, dressed only in boxer shorts and mapped in Gaelic-style tattoos. Ed threw him to the tiles.

Back on the West Side, Pyres had explained to Ed precisely what Rollo had wanted done, and Ed had sat and listened and drank his beer.

Kick his ass. If you have to, kill him. But kick his ass, like you would a punk kid. Do it in front of her. Let her see you fucking humiliate this guy, treat him like a bitch. Let her see the big man she ran away to.
< 9 >

Ed put his pistol on the tough guy and called into the dark room for Eliza. She came out wrapped in a sheet. She looked genuinely scared, not the angry brat he seemed to remember. Ed told Hammond to get up. The kid had two or three inches and about fifty pounds on Ed.

Ed slid the clip out of the gun and raked the slide, catching the ejected round with a practiced motion, and set the whole lot on the kitchen counter. He backed off, and invited Hammond, showing his empty hands and turning all the way around once.

'Come on, son.'

'Motherfucker' was all Hammond said as he rushed the older man. The kid was a brawler, exploding with speed. If he ever connected, he might be able to kill a man. Ed exhaled.

He let Hammond come to him, and he let the boy take a fast swing at his head. Ed leaned away smoothly, his upper body free of Chris' tight punching arc. At the same time, standing firmly on his right leg, Ed snapped a left roundhouse - steel-toe pointing out - into the boy's exposed rib cage. There was a noise like the popping of an ice cube.

Ed took one hop away and let the boy feel what had happened. Hammond began to shake it off, then fell to one knee. He glared at the older man, unable to understand how he had been hurt so bad so quickly. His mouth made a series of shapes.

'Get up, boy.' Ed was going through the motions, his heart not in it. Sometimes he enjoyed throwing his weight around, but the girl watching flattened it all out a bit. She saw that Hammond was hurt.

'You son of a bitch' she said to Ed. 'Leave him alone. I'll go with you, okay? That's enough.'

Hammond had collected himself a little, and holding his right side he made another move towards Ed. Ed cut the distance between them and Hammond instinctively put his hands up to guard his face. Ed grabbed Hammond by his testicles, squeezing with more than half his strength. The boy shrieked, breathed, then shrieked again. He feebly clawed at Ed's throat, but Ed kept the pressure on. He pulled and twisted as he squeezed. Hammond's face was purple, and his eyes like baseballs. Eliza began screaming.
< 10 >

Out of the corner of his eye, Ed saw her dart back into the bedroom, so he wrapped it up with Hammond, hauling back and giving him a right under the eye so hard it was a wonder the boy's neck held. The kid sat down immediately, almost politely, and went to sleep.

Ed walked briskly into the bedroom to find Eliza struggling with some sort of nickel-plated small caliber handgun, trying to put bullets into it by jiggling the slide and swearing at it. Ed caught her hands and twisted the gun out. She cried as he twisted, and her shoulders began to slump. She snapped out of it, fooling Ed, and reached and scratched his face. She drew blood as she screamed at him, almost laughing. He hit her instantly with a right, and she bounced off the closet door on her way to the carpet.

Ed stood rock still until he saw the rise and fall of her chest.

Then he sat down and fiddled with the handgun and looked around the bedroom. Coke, some pot, but no needles. Rollo had been afraid that it was heroin with her now - her arms were pale and thin, but free of tracks.

Ed sat Eliza up carefully in the crook of his elbow, supporting her head. He ran his finger over the swelling that had already started under her eye. There was also a small cut where his knuckle had connected. He gently woke her with motion.

''Kay. Nuff. Wha?'

'Easy. Stay awake, okay? Gonna feel worse the longer you stay out. Better to wake up now, so stay with me. We need ice. Can you stand?'

The two made their way into the kitchen, Eliza shaky on her feet but doing better than Ed had expected. Hammond lay in the same position in which he had landed. Ed put some ice into a sandwich bag.

'You're going to have to get some things together. You know you have to go home.'
< 11 >

'Yeah.'

Ed had a look around as he gave her a little privacy. The house belonged to Hammond's uncle, some Southie big shot named Fran Doyle. Fran's sister was Chris' mother, hence Useless Chris gets a fast car, some tattoos, and access to the house while Fran is away in Vegas.

The place was tastefully done for the home of a scumbag from South Boston. There were old, grainy photographs of the Brookline area from the 1800s. The place was mostly blacks and whites, and the green from enormous potted plants. Plenty of big windows used the view well. Must have hired somebody.

Eliza emerged dressed in tight slacks and a black stretch shirt. Over-sized sunglasses almost concealed the shiner that was forming under her eye. She carried a weekend bag.

'That all you're going to need?'

'All I got.' She gave a wincing glance at Hammond, who was beginning to grunt a little. 'Where's Chang?' she said as they began to walk through the rooms of the linear house, but Ed did not answer. Eliza sucked in as she saw the giant man's body. 'Did you shoot him?'

'No.'

Eliza looked Ed over. They left the house and began to walk up the drive.

'What about my truck?'

'I'm sure Rollo will buy you another one, or have someone retrieve it for you.'

'Fuck that. I'll drive it. I'll follow you.'

'Fuck that.'

'No. Come - come on. I know you, right? What's your name?'

'Ed.'

'Ed. Right. Dad talks about you all the time. You're, like, the best at everything, right? Well, let me follow you. Where am I going to go? Chris's family is going to kill me if I stay in Boston after this shit, okay? I'll follow you, and that way my car doesn't get left in front of a house where you killed one guy and beat on another guy.'
< 12 >

'I don't know if that man is dead.'

'He looked pretty fucking dead to me, Ed.'

Ed looked around, and then back at Eliza. She was able to keep eye contact, and he was impressed. 'You know your father.'

'Yes I do.'

'He is upset with you as it is.'

'Yes he is.'

'He is one more episode away from telling me to hit you, you know that?'

'You already hit me.'

'Kill you. Understand?'

'Yes.'

'You try to lose me, I will find you and kill you, understand?'

'Yes I do, Ed.'

'Do you?'

'Yes.' She moved closer to him. Ed's point was made, but he did not move away.

'It won't make the slightest difference to me, you know?' he said, lower now.

'Okay. I'll do what you want.' She moved gently back and forth.

'Stay right on me.' Ed broke away and walked to his car.

Ed looked in his mirror every five or six seconds, willing her to stay behind him. They took Beacon Street through Newton and arrived together at the mammoth hotel. Ed noticed his face in the mirror as he got out of his car; three good gashes from Eliza's fingernails framed his left eye. He donned sunglasses of his own, swearing quietly to himself.

Ed had a long talk with Pyres while Eliza showered; at least, what Ed considered a long talk. Ed pushed for someone to drive up and take her off his hands - he had some business to take care of here the rest of the weekend; personal things. He couldn't be dragging a twenty-year-old girl around with him everywhere.
< 13 >

Pyres said he was sorry, but that there was nobody else. November was almost here, there were city elections, this was the busiest time of the year.

'In fact,' oozed Pyres, 'We need you back as soon as possible, here. How long is this - personal stuff gonna take?'

'The weekend. I will be back late tomorrow.'

There was a muffling, a scratching, then a silence. Then Pyres came back on the line. 'Yeah. Mr. Rollo is anxious to see his daughter, Ed. This personal stuff better be real important - '

'I can put her on a bus right now, she will be back in four hours. You can meet her at Port Authority at - '

'Ed, Ed, please. You're the professional, right? You were sent to get the chick and bring her back, not put her on a damn bus while you go sightseeing. Those fucking buses stop, you know? Pit stops, like, and what do we tell Rollo when she doesn't hop back on, okay? No - if you have some things to do, just do them, but the girl stays with you, and comes back down with you.'

'And her truck?'

Another scratching, then silence, then more oozing.

'Right. Mr. Rollo wants you to handle that as you see fit, Ed. Get one of your Boston people to drive it down, or have it flat-bedded. Whatever, we'll pay for it. Just get it and her down here by Sunday and we're all right.'

We. We'll pay for it.

There was a time when Rollo was the only one who spoke to Ed. Ed thought about killing Pyres with his hands, and then took his shirt off and did push-ups until he felt better.

He was breathing heavy from his workout when Eliza came out from the bathroom in a towel. She picked up the 8' x 11' of herself on the dresser. Ed prepared to answer any query about it, but none came. She put the photo back, thoughtfully, and then floated towards Ed without looking at him.
< 14 >

She came close to Ed, and ran her fingers over his chest and down his abdominal muscles. He didn't move away.

'Keep pretty trim for an old man.'

'Not so old.'

'Hmm. So when do we go?'

'I have things to do. I have to meet someone today, run some errands tomorrow. we can leave after that.'

'I like these scars.' She whispered, pressing against him and kissing his chest. He was able to stay motionless for a minute or so, and then Ed picked the girl up and moved her to the bed.

The towel came off. She had a dancer's legs and ass, but with full, young breasts that would not fall for twenty years. She worked at his belt and ushered him inside of her, as she did she released a long moan. They were loud and fast, and afterwards Ed took a shower of his own. He kept the bathroom door open, which blocked the door out to the hall.

When he was done she had dressed, but only into one of his t-shirts. He lay on the bed and she wrapped herself around him.

'I can't stay with my father.'

'That's not my problem.'

'I'm going to run away again, and keep running until he doesn't come after me anymore. Or until you come to kill me. Isn't that your problem?'

Ed turned and held her face. 'He is probably going to have you killed whether you run or stay, sooner or later.'

She was crying without making a noise. 'I know. Ed?'

'Yeah.'

'Did he have my mother killed?'
< 15 >

'Yes.'

She knew this but had never heard it. She looked toward the window. 'Did you know her?'

'Yes.'

'What was she like?'

'I didn't know her real well. I was just a kid, younger than you. I was working for Stacks in Brooklyn, but we used to go to those parties. We'd bus the tables, run drinks. Rollo would come. Your mother was taller than him. Talked loud. She was beautiful, everybody seemed to like her. She drank Manhattans.'

'What's in a Manhattan?'

'That's whiskey with vermouth, the sweet kind, and a cherry, usually.'

'Are those good?'

'Yeah. That's a classy drink.'

'How did you start working for my dad? Why did you leave Brooklyn?'

'Had an uncle up here. Ended up paying so I could go to college. Four years of that. Joined the service for another few years. When I came back, Rollo was running things. He offered, I took it.'

'Do you like him?'

'We're friends.'

The two stayed wrapped and warm in each other, then made love again. This time they were slow, and didn't get dressed again until after noon.

Ed met Kurt on Revere beach, where they had roast beef sandwiches - Ed really had forgotten how good they were. Bruiser was motoring around in wide circles, harassing seagulls.

'There is a weight on your head. More than normal.'

'It's just work.'

'Nothing you can talk about in specifics, I am sure.'

'Sorry.'
< 16 >

'I am used to it. Shed no tears for me.' Kurt darkened. 'Are you still there, boy?'

'I'm still here, Professor.'

'I believe you. But there is only a remnant now of what used to burn in those eyes. I myself was frightened of you now and again, dear boy. Certain comments, certain viewpoints. You looked like you could kill.' Kurt laughed at the memory, but held Ed by his arms, then became sad and quiet. 'Get out of what you are doing if it is taking you from yourself, Edward. Politics can do this to a man, especially a young man.'

'Not so young.'

'Ach. Yes. Not too old, either, though. Not so old as to be resigned, to be unchangeable. You know that.'

'I do. I am further along than you might think.'

'Ah! You are considering getting out?'

'Yes. I believe I am. I have obligations yet to fulfill. But after - 'Ed trailed off on his own.

'Miles to go, eh? Well, that is wonderful. I wish you the best. Maybe you will decide to teach with me in Cambridge.'

'I'm not sure I have much to teach. Much useful, anyways.'

'You see how the world works, still. That is something, is it not?'

Ed looked out at the gray expanse of autumn ocean. 'Thank you for everything, Kurt.'

'Oh, my boy. It has always been my delight and my privilege.'

Kurt laughed; tried to force it on to Ed. He couldn't, so he patted the young man's shoulder twice while he looked at his shoes and the sand.

'How old are you?'
< 17 >

'Forty-one.'

'Damn.'

'I know. You thought older, right?'

'Like sixty.'

He could feel her begin to enjoy his laugh.

And so he dragged her around. Ed saw Blake at the Quiet Man Pub, had a couple of beers and listened to stories - listened sadly, realizing Blake was now a drunk. Maybe he always had been. He was shocked to see Ed at first, but within a half-hour he was talking to him like they had been together for the past ten years. Eliza was happy to sit in a corner and eat a sandwich.

Ed failed to find a couple of people entirely. Katie O'Hare had moved to Philadelphia to teach music, and Sullivan had opened his own law practice in Los Angeles. Mr. Sullivan, Sr. told Ed the news after swearing, dancing then marveling at him. Eliza could see that the old man wanted nothing more than to talk with Ed for hours on end, but Ed would not even come in, though the offer was repeated three times. The old man physically pulled on Ed's arms, but he wouldn't move closer. Ed seemed like a vampire invited to Mass. When Ed and Eliza walked away from the large Sullivan home near Central Square, Ed seemed bothered.

'He sounded like a pretty good friend of yours.'

'Yeah. We did some great things together. I always got along with his dad, too.'

'Yeah, it looked like it. Why didn't you talk to him longer, or go in or something? He really wanted you to.'

'Let's just get going. The longer we walk and drive around here, the more chance we have of running into Hammond or his people. They've got to be looking for you.'

'What are we doing? Just looking up your old college buddies?'
< 18 >

'Yeah. You ever think about college?'

'No. Yeah, but dad - Rollo, says it's all bullshit.'

'It is. Doesn't mean you don't meet good people.'

'Hmm.'

Ed slowed his pace as they approached the car. 'Are you ready to go?'

'Yeah.'

'Need anything?'

'No. Let's just go.'

Ed and Eliza moved seventy miles west in just under an hour, and then started heading south. Then Ed's phone rang, and he listened to Pyres for a few moments. Ed listened to the slow hiss through the phone and watched clumps of orange trees hurtle past the car. He made a sound when he thought that Pyres wanted to hear one.

Ed said yes. Then he hung up.

Eliza watched her hands shake. 'We're going to pull over soon, aren't we?'

Ed felt the tired weight of the gun holstered at his ribs, and scanned the woods on either side of the highway. It was bound to get more remote past Hartford. 'Not for a while.'

As Eliza started to sob quietly, the trees hurtling by were at peak color, like in postcards.

Wolves and Me

2010-06-26T16:42:00.000-07:00

On the road back to nostalgia.
I reap the harvest in the fields of my mind.
The cross border territories have different shades, which hold the shadows of us together.
Which are encrypted dreams in the large cinema scope projected as dreams
Walking back the narrow lane into the woods, which are piled up memories dead and decaying as our love a pack of wolves jump out of me, and ask me why? I cared u some much.
Where I was celebrating u and u were celebrating life.
On the rage wolves are fit to rip me,

Beast unleashed.

I bowed my life, said u are the one
After a time said its not going to happen
I was struggling a reason, I loved u blind
And my love is echoing back to me
Like I loved a love that never existed.
All that remains is kingdom haunted.
Where the king watches craving ghost.

King unleashed.

All that remains is your ghost searching for my love
Love that remained is the love that is lost
Love that is cherished is not the love that u deserved.
You lost me like I never lived in you.

Ghost unleashed

The darkness seeps in as i lay back to watch the projected,
I am cushioned by the skin of the wolves which have the bite marks on the neck.
I see your ghost larking through the walls of my soul,
On the back drop I hear wolf’s alter egos of my soul howling on you from the woods.
Love unleashed.

MY NOTES IN BETWEEN

2010-06-09T02:21:00.000-07:00

MY NOTES IN BETWEEN

LIFE
YOU
DEATH
THERE ARE NO EXCEPTIONS IN BETWEEN

YOUR EYES
YOUR HEART
YOUR ARMS
THEY ARE MY BIRTH PLACES IN BETWEEN

BEAUTY
YOU
DIVINE
THEY ARE JUST SYNONYMS IN BETWEEN

SUNRISE
UR SMILE
THE STAR LIT SKY
THEY ARE TRANSFORMATIONS OF RADIANCES IN BETWEEN

PAIN ME
LEAVE ME
KILLME
THERE IS JUST ME AS RAISING OF THE PHOENIX IN BETWEEN

MY HAPPINESS
MY PRAYER
MY DREAM
THEY ARE DEDICATIONS FOR YOU IN BETWEEN

I
LOVE
YOU
THERE ARE JUST MY LIVES IN BETWEEN

YOU
YOU
YOU
THERE IS NO BREATHING SPACE IN BETWEEN

"Puppets of Love"

2010-02-19T01:08:00.000-08:00

Under the siege of love
I sleep with my eyes open
If i close my eyes, they seep down into my heart
To make love, to bring back all those memories of us together
In this incubation is the birth of the puppets of love.

"Thought I found an angel <--Rap Prelude
Look at me burning like white flame humble, stumble, tumble
you triggered a rebel ,its got to be fable"

Behind these eyes do u see this passage where our souls met in this landscape
Where u played, made it Ur garden, rose plants, that oak tree. Where u carved our names
The colour and the signs were reflecting the sanctity and happiness.

"I wana break this fantasy piracy,
Mocking this lunacy
Ecstasy delicacy,
Is no more a true prophecy"

I still can’t imagine the way u left, had no clue or the reason
Why u left taking away all the roses which fared all seasons, i was struggling to make it alive
U left is a bed of thorns, if u have to come back u have to on the bed of thorns.

"Try coming back, walking on the bed of thorns
You left me for money and horns,
this love aint pleading, bleeding
you are out of my minds reading"

The landscape -my heart, leaving these memories -the puppets
I walk on the landscape
Look at it now its a frozen land, i feel so numb walking one side i seep the puppets
Sleeping in the grave others dangling to the oak tree with heads tied with ropes to the branches.
As i near the tree the puppets come down and look at me as stranger
Not a part of me any longer, they look into my eyes for shades of you,
And i look at there eyes to see us together in this irony who is the puppet of love.

"You look into the mirror, hallow
Searching for me in ur shadow
as I pass through ur soul window
Biting sorrow arrow, see u
Crying in pride like love widow"

As i walk i understand these puppets are not going to stay for more
What i had for you is more than what u deserve and are worth for
U won’t recognize me any more

"The day u left me I thought was last sunset,
I lost respect, but I bet,
U were trying to tame a lion as ur pet
Here is the carpet walk over to the place where our souls met
Blow the trumpet for the last breath of the puppet "

Don’t want be the saint of the past
Life is living and life is calling..
Like the rise of phoenix, I am going to soar and conquer
Placing the purple roses on their cascades, burying these puppets of love!

MY Latest Sketch

2010-01-24T09:53:00.001-08:00

THE YOU IN ME

2009-12-07T16:57:00.000-08:00

THE VERTICAL STRINGS OF THE PAST
ARE LAID DOWN ON MY HEARTS CORRIDOR
YOUR SILHOUTTES AND MEMORIES ARE
CARRIED ON BY MY INFINITE HUES,
CLOUDS MARCH BY AS YOUR PHOTOGRAPHS
THAT HAVE DRENCHED THEMSELVES IN TEARS
MY LUNGS ARE TRUMPETS THAT CRY OUT UR NAME.
MY HEART ARE CHANTING ,MY INNER SPIRITS ARE
DOING WATER WORKS ,PAINTING UR FACES AT
DIFFERENT PLACES OF MY BODY THAT SURFACE OUT AS TATTOOS
I WEAR U AT VERY INCH OF ME .
I WALK WITH U EVERY STEP, CARRYING U
WHEN I STAND IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR ,
I SEE U IN THE FULL SCAPE MIRAGE
I LIVE U
MORE THAN ME IN ME
IS THE YOU IN ME
WHERE THE CONSCIENCE WEARS U MY SOUL!

MY GODESS

2009-11-04T16:18:00.000-08:00

ONE EYED DUSKY PHANTHOMS SCAVENGE ON THE NEGATIVE
FALLACIES OF MY LOVE , THEY MOCK ME WITH HORRIFYING
FACES IN THIER CYNICAL MYSTERIES,
THEY HOLD SPADES
WHICH ARE RETROSPECTIVE BRAZES OF LOVE POINTED AT ME.
THEY DANCE ROUND THE BORNFIRE WITH HEADS DANGLING
WITH ME AS THE BAIT, I WARN THEM OF U ,MY GODESS
I WARN THEM OF U MY SHAKTI,I WARN THEM OF MY DIVINE
POWER INSIDE
AS U COME DOWN THE EARTH WOULD SHIVER ,
THUNDERS WOULD ROAR,LIFE ON THE EARTH WOULD BOW.
EVILS WOULD PERISH AND TURN TO ASHES
AS THESE
SUPER NATURAL TRANCES WHICH TRASEND ME, TORCHER ME
SAVE ME MY GODESS,
FROM THESE ILL PECKED SATANS OF FATE ,
COME DOWN MY GODESS ,
GIVE ME MOKSHA IN THE ETERNAL BINDING UR SOUL
AS THESE
ARE TRAPEZIUMS IN THE JURISDICTION OF OUR LOVE!

EIGHT_ SEQUENCE:

2009-10-13T09:47:00.000-07:00

8 SEQUENCE - last 8 years have been a ride of cacophony and desire .for what you have left me for the hyenas scavenging through the destiny, like splendid that hit this desire was swing of a 8 mm bullet
Was it the flutter of the eye or the shutters of the frames in my dreams your face, ur smile and we holding each other just went by in a black and white picture that woke me from sleep
Your thoughts are like the racing car in the circuit just raising the accelerators waiting
The signal from the heart to take the track like of these two circuits that hold each other of you and me just another sequence of eight that these cars of thoughts and memories come back lunatic to the starting point fanatic for another 8 kinetic

LOVE IS THE HEALING

2009-10-02T12:36:00.000-07:00

I BEGIN WITH OPENING MY EYES, I SEE OUR BEAUTIFUL BLUE PLANET ,FULL OF WATER AND WARMTH , A SUDDEN THUD AND THE WATER TURNS RED, THERE IS SEEP OF BLOOD I IMPEND THE LINGERING `OF THE RED PLANET CALLED HELL.

WE HAVE SENT OUR BROTHERS, WITH LARGE WOOD METALS AND CHEMICALS TO KILL OUR OWN BROTHERS FROM DISTANT SAND, ON THE LOVE OF HIS LAND, WHICH IS NO MANS CARVING, PEOPLE STARVING.
YOUNG AND OLD CRAVING ARE FALLACIES OF DARWIN.
PEOPLES TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS, I FEEL PITY FOR THE PEOPLE
LIVING IN EACH CITY FOR THEY SLEEPING WITH ALL THE ATROCITY.
ARE THEY REALLY SLEEPING OR PEEPING ON TO THE WINDOWS OF HELL ON WHAT MAY RUN OVER THEM .IS THERE HAPPINESS APART FROM FRUEDS MEMORY THAT PEOPLE LIVE WITH ,WHAT THEY ARE LEADING WILL LEAD THIS WORLD FROM HU- MAN TO THE WORLD OF DEMON.
LOVE BY THE LOVE TO LOVE IS SIMPLE AND BEAUTIFUL
LOVE BY THE LOVE TO POSESS IS DEATH
LOVE BY THE LOVE TO KILL IS NO SWEET ANGELS PERFUME
IT IS QUICK SAND OF DROWING FACES
SOME TIMES I GET AWAKEND BY THE SCREAMS OF THE DYING FACES OF THE SHOOTINGS AND BLASTS .SO MUCH SUFFERRING SO MUCH PAIN MAKES ME GO INSANE .GIVE ME AN ANSWER
IF WE ARE ALL THE CHILDREN OF GOD, WHY ARE NT WE SHARING LOVE?
IT’S NOT ABOUT ME AND YOU DARLING, ITS ABOUT YOU AND THE WORLD, ME AND THE WORLD THE PEOPLE AROUND
WHAT WE HAVE CAUSED WHAT WE HAVE PAUSED .IF I COULD MAKE WISH TO GOD THAT WOULD BE TO KILL HIM. MAKE HIM REBORN AS GOD IN EACH ONE OF US ,ASK HIM ONE RELIGION .AFTER ALL I MULL, WHAT IS HE IS DOING UP, IS HE SCARED OF THIS HELL OR IS HE ENJOYING THE SCREECHING VOICES OF PAIN AND FIRE WORKS.
BUT WHY SO MUCH CRY, RACE AND CUSTOM .I ASK? DO STARS HAVE RELIGION, DO ANIMALS HAVE, THEN WHY DO HUMANS .JUST THAT WE CAN TALK …TALK MORE LIES THAN TRUTH.BIULDING FENCES AND BOUNDARIES WITHIN OURSELVES.THIS IS FAR BEYOND THE CALAMITIES OF EARTH, THE REAL CALAMITIES ARE IN THE PEOPLE OF THIS WORLD.
LOVE IS THE HEALING.

Rain of fire

2009-09-24T07:31:00.000-07:00

Just a wide white space and
The mirrors loom large; I stand imparted in the impressions of you.
Can I touch the mirror; no I am scared I will feel you.
I see meteorites of fire balls raining,
Are the stars that were Ur
Smiles yesterday coming back to me, in these halls of fire, the biggest inferno is my heart.

Jack the VI Th and the Flying Rabbits

2009-09-22T13:51:00.000-07:00

The Story:

A story of my childhood

My friend and me playing by the mango groves
Came back home by the night, sat by the garden gazing the sky

It looked like Gods crown studded with diamonds; decorated in between was the biggest Diamond the mother of an angel ….the moon.
Counting stars, my friend told me a story about moon and the rabbit
As a rabbit was playing in the garden and sky filled with stars
The moon took leave and came down to play with rabbit, she looked like an
White satin angel and rabbit fell in love...They played with by the swing, the played the
Wind and He feel a sleep in her twilight...To find by the day she was gone.

He went in search of her... as the shadow of his soul stays on her as I gaze as a child by
The garden.

Reference:
Jack: refers to my favorite Whisky brand: Jack Daniels.
VI: Refers to the 6th shot of Jack when I started this poem by my garden gazing the moon.

Poem:
Jack the VI Th and the Flying Rabbits

From the white rabbits that flew yesterday to moon
I bring the night back, they have seen you and felt you ‘
How are you now and how we were together?
for me and my alter egos
Are twins born to you in the eternal quest… running back and forth
Sailing in these thoughts that reach you.. Are the pure white soul, red eyed rabbits that’ take flight

I dimmed the lights, the boys and girls have escaped into the night. their car lights flash across the darkness on the highways .., the party is over...I take a shower
I open the doors of my terrace and the chandeliers swing slowly with me as a dazzling beauty inviting me to dance,
I pick Jack In my hand like a baby...for I am the one putting the baby steps, the golden brown, yellow tinge with which he shine reminds me of your face...The colors, the smell for he is a respite shining in the glass ..Once my lass….you wanted to pass

I walk in to the garden and twilight picks me up as orphan in heaven
And I stare at the moon for don’t k now why I always used call you the moon
An infatuation lampoon
For I knew that u will be there. far away and this will happen ……just like this
Some day pretending you dint know anything.
I see the rabbits stroll back and forth in the garden some times looking at me in amazement and the moon
Their red eyes bloat my dreams and thoughts of you.And as take another sip of jack
I feel slouched... Leaving myself to drown in the garden to dizzy Hawaiian
Girls dance.

I see the moon…
In my conscious …Sailing in the dreams and thoughts that reach you which is fantasy of these white souls, red eyed rabbits that’s take flight
They look smoky grey. With their red eyes and the background of dark sky shimmering with moon like
Chandeliers swing slowly with me as a dazzling beauty inviting me to dance.They fly to you and I have another round of jack my sixth and in this aura of an incredible sight
I see the shadow of the rabbit on you and like it will stay there on you every night … till days stop becoming nights everyday….I will sway by your way.

The rabbit, The moon, The grey soul, The Jack…… what an audience for this haunting melody.

Jack the VI Th and the Flying Rabbits

my revolution...rock the shank

2009-09-21T12:05:00.000-07:00

Cold nights, dark daysLove moves in mysterious waysIt's so sweet like a mother's tongue
Whose symphony protects her youngBut this truth ain't what it seems
Cause you and I have different dreams
You rise up but you never learn As we try to shake this sleep that burns
The darkness screams its icy breathAs daylight dies a thousand deaths
Proximity and Prodigy, deadly and divine solution
Proximity and Prodigy, welcome to my revolution...Rock the Shank

BEST WORDS

2009-09-18T12:10:00.001-07:00

IAM IN THE QUEST OF FINDING THE BEST WORDS
THATS COULD DESCRIBE YOU .
ALL MY POEMS TALK ABOUT U ,
THE MOON ,STARS ,AND ALL THE BEAUTIFUL EARTHLY BEINGS
THAT JUST PRAISE U ,IAM STILL NEVER SATISFIED
I WANT TO DESCRIBE THE REAL YOU, THE NATURAL U
THAT WOULD SHOW U ,
THATS WHEN I START LOOKING AT MY SELF!

A MARATHON

2009-09-18T10:02:00.001-07:00

ON THE FRANTIC ECHOES OF MY FREEDOM
I HAVE BROKEN THE CHAINS OF ANGUISH
TO BE WITH U .
I BURST OUT AFTER A POINT
I FEEL U IN MY METABOLISM
I START RUNNING TOWARDS U
ON THIS MARATHON .
A VOICE FROM THE BACK DISTURBS ME
CHALLENGING THAT IT CAN RUN FASTER
I TURN BACK TO REALISE ITS MY HEART
FEW GALLOPS LATTER IAM DISTURBED BY
ONE MORE WHO CHALLENGES THE BOTH ,
THAT IT COULD RUN FASTER ,I TURN BACK TO REALISE ITS MY
SOUL.
EVERY SECOND THERE ARE LAYERS OF ME TRAVELLING IN
DIFFERENT SHAPES AND FORMS TOWARDS YOU ,ONE DAY
I WILL BE ALL BESIDE YOU ALIVE ,TO LOOK BACK AT ME ALL EMPTY ,
AS TRULY WHAT DID EVER STAY THERE
WITH OUT YOU!