I Dread Coffins.

I beseech the domiciles of the hostile:

Divulge your liars and truth-stretchers.
Reveal the real fakes, phonies, and pretenders.
Expedite each troubled mind, which dreams of sleep at night;
And any disjointed heart, whose very secret sets it apart…
Deliver every vacant soul, beguiled into living among the vile!

Cleave them from your classrooms,
Offices, and lonely bedrooms.
Free them from their pointless parties,
Fun-less functions, or solitary realities.
I believe they sought objective scrutiny,
Not a presumptive commonality,
So, for them, I’ll schedule an impartial trial.

The Adventures of Salisbury Jim and Red Al

• This is an excerpt from a story of a man who dealt constantly with two different perspectives on life.
• If you don't feel like reading a lot, then just skip the first paragraph, which is the description of The Banker, and go straight to the dialogue.
  
• I haven't proofread this as much as I would like, cuz my head hurts.
  
• Backstory: Salisbury Jim goes to the bank in order to secure a loan.
• Uh, enjoy!
  

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

The Banker is an older but acceptably attractive lady. She is someone of intense integrity and self control. For example, she never wears skirts or dresses while on the job, because such garb is pointless in this environment, if not less than pointless; counterproductive even. She’s caught the boys while they cock their heads toward the ascending women on the first floor stairs and feign finding an imaginary clock, in a desperately covert attempt to sneak a peek, a self-given break from work. These scenes she’s seen more times in a day than there are hours on that clock, hours for which those carefree boys get paid. Over the years, similar observations of the male species have caused her to much prefer the reliability of numbers over the reliability men. However, she’s never met a man as reliable as Salisbury Jim or as carefree as Red Al.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jim”, The Banker greets Salisbury as she extends her hand and prepares herself mentally for a painful squeeze, the zeitgeist of a manly handshake.

“Likewise, ma’am. This is my cohort, Red Al.” Salisbury, to The Banker’s relief, gently extends his fingers along hers and effectively grasps her palm with his right hand, while pointing to Red with his left. Again, to The Banker, this was not a weak grasp but definitely gentlemanly. Definitely effective.

She smiles at Salisbury before giving her attention to the other gentleman. “Nice to meet you, Red Al, was it?”

Red Al, wide eyed with shock, eyebrows tilted in surprise, looks to Salisbury before shouting, “Meet her!? Why, I hardly know the girl! And you expect me to meet her? Hahaha!” Finally, it’s Red Al’s turn to speak.

Salisbury demands in an impatient and grumpy tone, “Just shake her hand, Red.”

“Fine, Sal.” Red turns to The Banker. “I’ll see your hand and raise it!” He then bends over The Banker’s well organized, expensive mahogany desk and clasps both her hands in his, which he then pulls up to his chest. Looking sincerely into her eyes, he says “Miss, I have hardly heard your name before, save for whispers in the hallways of my high school. Long since have I always felt a deep desire, deeper than the depths of unexplored ocean floors, to gaze deeply upon your face, at the person whose name describes a woman of the deepest beauty and grace. So hear now that here now in this place, this fortress of commerce, this fiscal domicile, this superstructure of treasure, this pigpen of pennies, this abode of gold, this monetary residency, this capital of capital-!“

Salisbury, upon checking the time on his watch and mentally double-checking its correspondence to today’s schedule, interrupts, “Red Al, please, I’ve allotted myself only so much time for this silliness.”

Red Al smiles and finishes immediately, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Chef Humor!

Today I discovered that a chef's hat is called a "toque". So, I found a photo of some dude pretending to be all cool and possibly French and I did this to him...


Get it? Because his toque is pointing up and he's toking up on a marijuana cigarette! What a half-baked chef this guy is! LOL

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

I also found out it isn't easy to "photoshop" pictures in Microsoft Paint on Heather's laptop. However, my newest best friend, Boy-Sam, seemed to like the idea of this picture so what the heck...



It's like, duh! most of us do cook 4 our food, so what makes this guy so special? HAHA The answer: He has no face.

Can you see?

A long overdue
Attempt at contemporary
English-language Haiku!

___________________________________________

Coveted by dead ones,

A lonely red leaf falls

Near the end of autumn.

____

Yellow sunsets are shroud,

Over the horizon,

Under gray clouds.

____

Serpents hide in soft sand,

Exposed by their currents

Engraved on the land.

___________________________________________

A Man's Pride Is Not His Own

I always strive to keep each sentence of what I write
Bereft of any pretense and free from immense pride.
Ever those two would not belong to or befit me,
For with a superlative degree of certainty
I'm assured we all really secure our creations

Through several divine and separate inspirations!

Dear Diary,

Today has been a pretty productive day; after getting out of the shower, I discovered that I can fully dry my entire body with just three paper towels!


Till tomorrow!

~Lkroya~

The Next Time I See You

The next time I see you, I hope it is as a friend, lover, or not at all. I cherished our friendship before I cherished you this dearly, so even if you won't return my feelings, I'll still suffer them to be your friend. However, I'd much prefer you match your love for me against mine for you; that's a match I would not mind to lose. The last and least desirable scenario leaves me completely separate from your temptations, allowing my agony to run its long, lonely, and desperate course to eventual recovery. But worst of all is the purgatory of ignorance, this limbo of ambivalence I must endure while I wait for your decision. So please decide soon what I am to you: a friend, a lover, or nothing at all.

(finally done with these sappy stories)

[as soon as i procure my computer i'll produce fun pictures!]

{with photoshop}

If I Could See You Tonight

If I could see you tonight I would mirror your lips with mine.

Then I would place a kiss around the circumference of your neck with bliss, adorning it with an adoring necklace.

Finally, I would treat the entirety of your body with the same loving remedy, practicing this routine daily for the rest of our short-lived eternity.

And when my own body decides to quit before my spirit, upon asking my creator how many times my lips covered your corporeal surface,

He will surely admit losing count on our first nightly visit.

(there's probably only one of these queasy posts left in me)

[so don't worry]