broken hearted boy

I am the poorest choice for a bard there ever was for when pressed to perform my tongue is clumsy and has no flair.

Someone once said that he had lived his whole life just outside of Heaven’s Gate.

For the doctors said a broken heart was his inevitable fate.

When Charon comes calling, expecting his fee, no one his approach would see.

The rain transformed the roads into a glistening sea that day when Charon collected his pay.

His car was broadsided by a truck and flipped like a piece of driftwood or so I hear tell.

To the pavement he fell.

For a boy with a broken heart he fought hard to stay but Charonis n nothing if not insistent about his pay and would have no exceptions that day.

A quiet boy with mended heart sits at Heaven’s Gate his friends and family to await.

In memory of Paul Joseph Holloway Beech Senior High School class of 2003 1985 — June 6, 2002

R.E.K. January 22, 2009

shadows Knight

Some would say that shadows are frightening things to be at the very least wary of if not out right afraid of.  Shadows have a different connotation for me.  Shadows are indeed my friends.  The shadows are what I need them to be.  In the depths of the dark gaping wound from which my loneliness originates I can almost imagine that the shadow pressed against the wall is a man dressed in black come to watch over me whilst I sleep and chase away that which would change my dreams into things nightmarish.  Many times have  I stirred in my sleep and felt an added weight across the shoulders reminiscent of a heavy coat or cloak laid across my back.  Sometimes if the moonlight shines just right through my window I can almost imagine that I can see someone smiling down on me.And should I wake from a nightmare no sooner have my eyes flown open then there is almost a whisper in my ear,”It’s all right sweetheart, it was just a dream, I’ve got you I promise.” and I drift back with the half formed thought that there is now warmth where there was none before as though someone was now lying behind my back. The draft which creeps its way underneath my window  might well be fingers stroking my hair and and the side of my face and  the back  of my neck. As soon as dawns pearl grey lightens my window my shadow Knight must take his leave, the barest whisper against my ear,”Good morning Love.” Before I can open my eyes he has fled.  He’ll return though he always does.

waiting… and everything after that

Some higher being, call it what you will, God, the universe, fate, serendipity etc. has decided to drop one heck of a present into my lap.  In roughly 3 months I will finally get to see one of the people that has so drastically impacted my life over the past half a year.  I know I promised said this would be a writer’s blog and a whole lot less of a personal one and so shall it be.  my whole life I have felt as though I have been waiting on life to start even after I left for school. Everyone has those events in life that they use to mark time with, life before or after college, their firstborn child etc. .  I have no idea why I get the feeling that meeting him is going to be one of those but I do. Lately I have felt change approaching on almost silent feet.  It used to scare me to no end.  I’m not afraid anymore.  If change came on almost silent feet this friendship appeared out of the blue, a lot of things in my life have been unstable of late but one thing I know for sure a lot of things I would change but not that, that is one of the very few things I would not change for the world even had I the opportunity.  It’s confusing and frustrating and there are days that I don’t know what the hell to do with the emotions involved (like today) but for all that I wouldn’t even think about changing it, not one bit, not for the world. Silly as it may sound part of me feel like I’m going to be holding my breath until April gets here. This is an odd feeling for me because I don’t consider myself a particularly fatalistic personbut I’m pretty sure this was meant to happen for whatever reason or another.

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society versus Webster’s

hu·man  A member of the genus Homo and especially of the species H. sapiens.

cripple Sometimes Offensive.
a.     a person or animal that is partially or totally unable to use one or more limbs; a lame or disabled person or animal.

I’m not sure when it happened but at some point during the history of humankind anyone unfortunate enough to bear the label of cripple was automatically stripped of the honorific human. In earlier times than this we were shut away in asylums, hidden away from “normal” people because the higher ups decided that a person’s physical impairment/disfigurement was indicative of mental and/or spiritual inferiority.

It was originally complete accident that the word human was in the smaller print than the word cripple due to nothing more than an accidental difference in font sizes on the site where I copied and pasted the definitions from.  Looking at it now however I think it was a serendipitous accident indeed.  Take it from someone who knows that is exactly how the majority of the world treats me, and everybody else who just happens to be crippled. The that we were conceived and born in the same way as all the able-bodied people on this planet makes no nevermind to them.Even in this enlightened age of federally mandated mainstreaming in school and inclusion in the workplace by the majority of people we are still seen firstly as deficient things to be pitiedcreate Sure any mention of putting us into asylums again is now looked upon with the proper amount of horror and scorn but sometimes I have to wonder how much of that is staging because it is thing to say.

I will grant you that things have changed a lot since the 19th century.  Instead of locking us away out of sight and out of mind we are allowed an education. But should we complete a regular degree be it high school or college there were always be those people who upon hearing of your accomplishment will say “how wonderful for you” leaving a saccharin aftertaste in your throat while the gall caused by their patronizing tone inflicts acidic damage to the lining of your stomach and you must clench your good hand into a fist lest it “accidentally spasm” across their face. Personally that particular tone remind me of nothing so much as a proud owner praising a particularly precocious puppy.

Here is a question for you… WHY the heck are people surprised when they find out that we are not, apparently as previously believed, asexual?  Somebody PLEASE answer me that.  Heaven help us if we should actually daet that’s cause for a party or at least a lengthy game of 20 questions.  And if the disabled persons boyfriend or girlfriend happens to be able bodied *gasp* the number of questions automatically goes up to at least 40!  WHAT IS UP WITH THAT! As if it is not surprising enough that we cripples would like to get laid just as much as the next person the mere idea that a perfectly healthy person would consent and might actually enjoy spending a night or two with one of “us” is almost inconceivable.  The character of the able-bodied person is immediately disparaged by some folks because surely the able-bodied person must only be dating the cripple for the novelty’s sake alone, it couldn’t possibly be because he loves or cares about her, no, that couldn’t possibly be the reason for it.As for the “differently abled” person as the politically correct police would have you call us, wouldn’t she feel more comfortable with her own kind?  One of my friends answered this question with “yes, I’m not into animals”

By the way don’t anybody dare tell me I shouldn’t call myself a cripple.  People have called us crippled for centuries and we didn’t have a choice because there wasn’t any other word.  And now we have enough pride in ourselves as a community to pick it up out of the gutter of slanderous evil wordsthat should not be spoken and use it cannot own vocabulary as a sort of badge of honor.  I say this with little animosity that by virtueof the fact that I am a cripple able-bodied people hold a lot of power in my life, you’ll pardon me if I refuse to cede to them my freedom of speech.