#orginal piece

[niltutgut]

(c) Peter Schillinger

PHANTOM LORD  ファントムロード

from the series “Body Parts”

[skullydoodles]

Guess which asshole has been painting M E

[writingforthevoid]

Sundrops

On the corner of Brunswick Street and Sutton Lane stands a small shop. Cobbled walls with weathered crevices that had barely noticeable vines growing through them. A dark brown tiled roof overhung on all sides, casting the slightest of shades on the ground around the shop. It square and crisscrossed with wooden support beams to hold up the imperfect glass that filled them. The door that stood guard over the little shop’s entrance was made of grand oak; scratches and dents embedded in the wood told numerous stories of small accidents, of a walking cane that had strayed too close, of fighting street cats, of drunkards whose hands were not strong enough to carry the bottle properly.

The little shop on the corner of Brunswick Street and Sutton Lane was unassuming and quaint, but it had a routine that had never been strayed from since its opening. Every morning, shine or snow, at seven o’clock on the dot, the owner would step outside the great oak door, hands brushing past the latest marks as she set up flowers under the street facing windows. The flowers would change from day to day, one day they could be white orchids with lilies sitting in their midst, pure and childlike. Other times they could be red carnations with tulips of orange and yellow swirling through their petals like a smouldering hearth. There had been bluebells and windflowers, snapdragons and asters, fare-well-to-springs and forget-me-nots.

The owner set down a small pot of golden sundrops, wiping her dirt covered hands on the sides of her green dress. The last time the storefront had seen sundrops was not on a day like today. That day had been cold and bitter, with harsh winds that cut through anything that stood in their way.

***

At seven o’clock the owner had come out in a blue dress, arms full of smiling sundrops. From behind rushed a man, dark hat and coat erect. He carried a single poppy in his left hand, a small suitcase in the other. He watched as the owner set down the flowers with utmost care and waited until she turned back to him. When she did so, her shoulders dropped. There was a second when all that moved was the wind. She ran into the man’s arms and hugged him as tight as her small frame would allow, squeezing as if he would dissolve if she let go for even a second. Gently, poppy in hand, he lifted her head from his chest and gave her a small smile as he tucked the flower behind her ear. Words were spoken softly, carried away by a vicious gust. They stood in the doorway of the little shop, framed by the bare vines clinging to the wall. It was a peaceful moment that stretched for an eternity, yet only lasted a second as the man turned and walked down the street, sundrops and life left behind him.

***

The owner gently cupped a sundrop as her skirt billowed about, caressing the velvety petal with utmost care, before letting her hand slide. She turned to retrieve the next flower from the shop. A small bird fluttered, hopped a few times before flying away as the oak door reopened to reveal the woman in green carrying a cracked pot overflowing with morning-glories. As she set down the flowers under the left window, the crack winded marginally and a small chip fell from the rim. It made a clink as it hit the stone pavement, a clink that seemed to echo throughout the owner’s mind. She never kept cracked or chipped pots in her shop, so bundling up the morning-glories, she wandered back inside to fetch a new pot for the flowers. The last time a cracked pot had been in the little store was quite some time ago.

***

The summer sun blazed on the street, covering everything in an inescapable blanket of heat. Under the front windows of The little shop on the corner of Brunswick Street and Sutton Lane, oak door freshly painted and cobbled walls without a crack in sight...sat pots upon pots of sunflowers, snapdragons, bluebells and daisies. The flowers spilled over the cracked edges, bright colours blooming in the afternoon, as though they were drops of the rainbow themselves.

The flowers watched patiently from their station, as passers by bustled along, baskets filled with bread and milk. They watched the children scream and giggle as they played through the streets, and as the street cats hissed at any dog that strayed too far into their territory. The sunflowers beamed up to the sky from their cracked home, snapdragons hung loosely over chipped edges, bluebells sank into the soft soil, and daisies danced in the wind from their imperfect pots as they watched the strangers walk by. A woman came from the little shop, dressed in a faded yellow skirt and white blouse that seemed to be held together only by strings. She brushed the daisies and bluebells with her hand, patted the snapdragons and cupped the yellow petals of the sunflowers, bringing them up to her too-hollow face, closing her eyes to ignore the cracks and chips that infested the pottery below the bright buds. She stood in the summer spell, figure small and thin in all the wrong places, gazing out at the sea of faces, wishing that one would just perhaps step into her shop.

***

Purple flowers placed in their new home, the woman stepped outside to finish any last changes before officially opening her shop for the day. She gazed at the sundrops that glowed in the early morning light, and the daisies that sat beside them, bursting forth with life. She brushed a speck of dirt from a snapdragon and gently patted morning-glories, wishing them well. She entered the great oak door, covered in marks of old stories, with a small swish of green cloth.

***

On the corner of Brunswick Street and Sutton Lane stands a small shop, filled with flowers for every person and the story of just one.

[ampoetryblog]

Patience

Patience It is said that patience is a virtue, and good things comes to those who wait. That greatness finds those that are true and kind, capable of fighting off anticipation in order to demonstrate fortitude and persistence. Resisting the facile route, instead enduring the difficult road to their blessing in the distance. However, it can be debated that patience is a figment of the mind. Rather that success blesses those that are willing to grind, people who refuse to be defined by the parameters of time, those that have developed a "the world is mine " mentality and continuously chase the morning worm. Go getters that squirm at the notion of having to conform to the norm when their heart's desire is there for the taking. But there's one thing that can't be taken or rushed. Love distinguished from lust. The blush you feel rising to your cheeks with each touch, the flutter in your heart when your beloved speaks, because that person's voice is music to your ears. A feeling this sublime requires time to foster and grow, to seep into one's soul and conquer all fears regarding love. Erase former heartbreak, both new and old. And over time what unfolds is an unbreakable bond, created with love, and molded to withstand the pressure of a society prided on storming to the finish line rather than biding time to experience the small wonders of life, such as getting to know one another, understanding each other's likes and dislikes. Creating your own fairytale, rather than mimicking the romance story of another. It is said that patience is a virtue, and good things comes to those who wait. One that can await their one true pairing is destined to find that their time spent waiting was all worthwhile.

[bluestuddedrose]

Who am I? Who are you?

A question that determines the understanding of the soul yet so easily dismissed, and the importance masked by the confusion and clutter of this society we call bliss.

Who am I? Who are you?

Forget the people stealing your air pretending to care for the world isn't fair and we live in despair but your nearly there if you would just dare..

Who am I? Who are you?

Of the words of all the words in the dictionary full of words never merely describe how we feel, just understand the simple concept that we way we live isn't real.

[jamesapalooza]

"Inner Hell and Triumph: Weight of the World" - By James Rocco Cornetta

"And then what happened?" "....well, I proceeded to the next three houses and encountered three very different but very important women in my life. The first was throwing a party. nothing really abnormal about that. All my friends were there and her friends. Everyone was drinking, dancing, and just having a good time. But it was just...I kind of missed her and I needed to leave before anything "happened", you know? Plus, it didn't feel right. Something was off about it and I got a real nasty vibe from the place, so I left the party and the next thing I knew, I was wearing two metal, almost futuristic arm gauntlets. The next house, was really...disturbing? Yeah. That's the word. It was broken on the inside. The walls had holes in them, there was blood everywhere, and corpses everywhere...I could even smell them...But then I saw her. My one ex-girlfriend holding a knife in one hand and a pistol in the other rocking back and forth in a chair in the kitchen just softly laughing to herself. I walked over to her and quietly called her name out. She suddenly turned around and stabbed my chest. But the blade never went through. All of a sudden, I had a chest plate and the other shoulder piece. We fought for a bit and I begged her to stop and tried to make her stop and she didn't, and I eventually...well...I had to...you know." "I'm sorry. That must have been really hard for you, even for a dream." "Truth be told, that wasn't the worst part. The next house was pretty tough to swallow. I was a wake for my most recent girlfriend, everyone had already left and it was just me. I walked up to her casket and kneeled and just start crying. Then I felt this hand on my shoulder and she sat up and looked at me and smiled and said "Hey." I looked at her and just kept apologizing for not being there when I was suppose to be there for her and for being a screw up and for everything in between. He said she forgave me and that I shouldn't beat myself up as much as I do. And I asked her how could she? She said told me, and I quote, "Because I have something so strong, it helps me get through even the darkest times." And she tapped the left side of my chest twice and the next thing I knew. I was outside again with the other metal leg piece. I had a full set of armor at this point. And then suddenly I saw this figure. It had eyes as big as base basket balls and black pupils as small as a pin point..."

[jamesapalooza]

"Inner Hell and Triumph: Purpose" - By James Rocco Cornetta

"So there I was, as I laid there in the middle of nowhere, in some barren wasteland, there wasn't anything in sight for as far as the eye could see. Except there was one thing I noticed. I saw a part in that grey, dark sky, where the clouds parted, a ray of sunlight shining down on something and my gut told me to go toward it. As I walked, it felt like I was getting no where. That the little ray of light I saw was so close yet so far away.  And suddenly, before I knew it I was there. In the middle of nothingness and emptiness, I found a small living community, where the grass was green and lush, the sky was blue with little clouds in the sky, and nine different houses and a mansion on the top of some hill. As I walked toward this neighborhood, I noticed an open mailbox with a letter inside. I walked over toward it and looked at it just find some sort of address and to figure out where I was. And there was nothing on the outside of the envelope, so I opened it and it was a small note that only read; "Help your neighbors and you can go home." I'll be honest, I was a little creeped out. But it didn't phase me. I went into the first house that I saw and walked into a burning building and I saw my father, screaming at me that my mother already burned in the fire. So I grabbed by the arm and ran into the basement, and told him to leave. He said he wouldn't go with out me, but I told him I was going back for my mother. So I ran through the house to the master bedroom and kicked in the door, when suddenly there was no fire and my mother was sitting under the covers on her laptop. She looked at me and smiled and said "Hey kiddo." I looked at her and said "Ma, we gotta go this house is-" and turned around, the door was gone and the fire was gone. She looked at me and told me that I couldn't save everyone. I looked at her and I just blurted out "You're right. But everyone can save someone." She smiled and said "That's my boy" And she disappeared, right before my eyes, and there was a shoulder pad sitting where she was laying. I picked it up and out of no where, another door appeared to the right of me. I walked through, and I was outside again. I turned around and the house looked like it burned to the ground. So I went to the next house. I walked inside and there was nothing abnormal about it, except all the family portraits. All of the faces in each picture were torn off. But as I walked through the house I heard groaning from the basement. I slowly crept through the kitchen and got a kitchen knife and made my way down into the basement. When I got down there, there was a man huddling to himself, and he was nothing but skin and bones and almost looked like a skeleton, to be honest. When this man saw me, he grabbed my leg and looked up at me with tears in my eyes and begged me to get him food. I didn't even bother questioning it and ran back upstairs as fast as I could to find this man some food. There was nothing in the fridge but water and rice in the pantry. So I made as much rice that was at my disposal, and ran bowl after, after bowl, after bowl to this man. And when I was about to give him his last bowl, he vanished, and there was a piece of armor sitting where he was, it was a metal greave that latched itself onto me. I felt good after that and made my way out of that house, and then that house was looked destroyed as soon as I left.  And that's when I started to notice the pattern...."

[jamesapalooza]

"Being Super In More Ways Than One" - By James Rocco Cornetta

There once was a superhero who called himself Tech Man. Now Tech Man wasn't like all the other superheroes in the city. He couldn't fly. He didn't have super strength. He couldn't control nature. He was just an ordinary man, with a brilliant mind and relied on solely his gadgets, which were few in number as it was, and his wit. One night while on patrol, Tech Man over heard on his radio of a report of a fire breaking out in an apartment building in downtown, not too far from his location. With no hesitation, Tech Man raced to the scene as fast as he could. Once he got there, he saw people who barely made it out of there, police officers trying to contain and control the situation, and the fire department was having trouble with their equipment. And then suddenly, the other superheroes came to help as well. The police ran past Tech Man like he wasn't even there and looked at the leader of this small group of superheroes and said "Thank God you're here! There's one more person in there and we can't get in there! You have to help us!" the officer shouted. The group of heroes looked at each other and slowly moved away from the building. Tech Man ran up to them and shouted "You guys are super, why aren't you going in there?!" And they're leader, who called himself Skyward, replied with; "I can only fly..." he said in a soft tone. Tech  Man looked in disbelief and looked back at the building hearing a woman scream. He panicked and thought as fast as he could. Until it hit him. Tech Man looked at Skyward and said "Just fly up to the 6th floor window." he said then rushed to the building, shoving an officer out of his way and charged into the burning building. As Tech Man ran through, he was already feeling the effects of the smoke and the building was about to collapse at any moment, but he kept trooping through the building, as he can still feel the smoke consuming his lungs, making it harder to breathe for him. When he finally reached the the 6th floor of the building, he kicked in two doors before he found the one with the woman inside, and she wasn't alone. She was holding an infant, no more than seven months old, in her arms in a closet. Tech Man held out his hand and said "C'mon ma'am, I'm here to get you out of here!" The woman looked at him in awe and took his hand. He ran toward the window with this woman and infant in hand, and Skyward flew in by the window and picked up the woman and infant and flew back away from the building.  "What about you?!" Skyward shouted "I'll be fine! Get them to safety!" Tech Man screamed. Skyward hovered down to the crowd and brought them to safety, Tech Man, ready to make his escape, runs toward the window and leaps. But it was too late. Mid way through his leap of faith, the building collapsed on him. Two weeks later, Tech Man woke up in a hospital bed, with third degree burns all over his body, covered in bandages, and surrounded by flowers and balloons of all kinds. He looked around slowly, trying to realign his vision and such, when the doctor walks in with a look of shock and smiles. "Everyone! He's awake! He's alive!"The doctor shouted. Two nurses, a few people from the apartment, and Skyward himself, rushed into the room to see him.  After about an hour of praise and talk, the doctor was forced to kick everyone out of the room so Tech Man could get his rest. But not Skyward. Skyward pulled up a chair next to him and sat down. "You know, I have to be honest...I didn't think you'd come out of this." he said bluntly. Tech Man looked at him confused and tilted his head. Skyward looked down and smiled and even began to shed a few tears. He quickly composed himself and looked back up at Tech Man. "I thought you were going to die here. And it would've been my fault." he said and began to sob softly.  Tech Man slowly put his arm on Skyward's shoulder and smiled softly and whispered, "It's okay." Skyward looked up at him and asked "How? How did you do it? How did you just run in like that, knowing you could've died?!"  "Because I have a gadget stronger than any super power in the world. And you do too." Tech Man whispered.  Skyward looked at him confused and was about to say something until Tech Man reached out tapped the left side of his chest softly twice.  "The heart is a powerful thing." Tech Man whispered and smiled then closed his eyes. Morale of the Story is: Even the Little Guy Is Capable of Doing Amazing Things.