Sins of the Fathers (10)

“What?” I shrieked, struggling to my knees, covers pulled up to my chin. “What did you say?”

“Was it good stuff, boy?” Mr. Jamison’s eyes narrowed. “If she’s half as good in the sack as her mama was, she’s one prime pussy.”

Ira pounced, twisting Mr. Jamison’s shirtfront in his fist. His other hand dove into the front pocket of his jeans, came up in a blur of motion and clicked open a switchblade. He touched the point to his father’s throat. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Now just hold on, there ain’t no need getting excited.” A thin trail of blood trickled down Mr. Jamison’s neck. “Fuck her all you want, hell, it ain’t no skin off my ass—ow!”

Ira pushed a little deeper. The trickle became a stream. “Goddamn you, what are you talking about?” He slammed Mr. Jamison against the wall, the knife blade now resting sideways against his throat. “I want an answer—now.”

“I done told you, boy. She’s your sister. Hell, I don’t—”

“Liar!” Ira roared. Continue reading

Dance in the Graveyards

carry_the_fire

Delta Rae is an American folk rock band that formed in Durham, North Carolina in 2009. Consisting of three siblings, Ian, Eric, and Brittany Hölljes, along with Elizabeth Hopkins, Mike McKee and Grant Emerson, Delta Rae’s name came from a fictional story the Hölljesus’ mother intended to write (I suppose this means the story never bore fruition.) about a Southern girl named Delta Rae who summoned the Greek gods to earth.

Their debut album, Carry the Fire, was released in June 2012 and features “Dance in the Graveyards.”

They released a second album, After It All, in April 2015. I can find no record of follow-up albums, but they continue to tour, and gathering from what I have watched on YouTube, their live performances are popular.

Quoting from their official website bio, “Their music continually reveals a tension between male and female, dark and light, and life and death.”

I couldn’t have described their music any better myself.

I have also included a link to anther song, “Bottom of the River”—it came in a close second to “Dance in the Graveyards”—which is also on the album, Carry the Fire.

I hope you enjoy.

 

Mirrors

mirrors do not lie
they stare back into your clouded eyes
down, down the bottomless black well
straight into the rapacious mouth of hell
where fiendish nightmares breed
and ravenous Beelzebub feeds
ripping apart your godforsaken soul
piercing razor-blade teeth, burning like coals

do not look in mirrors, I say
nor let your empty eyes stray
to the bewitching silvered glass
through which maleficence can pass
avert your curious gaze
be not like Alice . . . beguiled by the maze
drawn into a world where nothing is real
not hope, not dreams, nor love . . . all surreal

Sins of the Fathers (11)

“Oh?” she asked, eyes wary.

“He’s not just a friend. I’m in love with him.”

“You can’t be in love with him, he’s your brother, much as it galls me t’say it.”

“I didn’t know that before, and now it’s too late.”

“What do you mean, it’s too late? Now that you know he’s your blood—”

I grabbed her hands, stilling their nervous fluttering. “Granny, I’m going to have his baby.” There wasn’t a kinder way to say it.

She folded in on herself. “And the sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the children…” She began to weep, her narrow shoulders shook. “Dear Lord, call back your vengeance…not little Chloe…no…”

Another stab of guilt pierced my heart. “Please, Granny, I need your help.”

“Help…yes…” She swiped her face, took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders. “You can’t have that chile, Chloe. There’s no tellin’ what might be wrong with it. I’ll talk to Doc Miller—”

“Are you talking about abortion?” My arms curled around my belly. “I hadn’t even considered that. Ira wants us to go away and get married. He—”

Granny lurched to her feet. “You can’t marry your brother. That’d be an abomination in the sight of the Lord.” Continue reading

A Storyteller’s Tale

Like many of my fellow writers, I have quite a few manuscripts boxed up, novels that failed to find a home. And it wasn’t for lack of trying on my part. I sent them off to literary agents and publishing houses, hoping they would be taken in, nurtured, edited, sent to the press and released into the world to soar above the clouds. But the simple fact was they weren’t good enough. (There, I’ve admitted it.)

Looking back, I see now the first one was terrible, the second a little less so, and so on and so on, until now, the sixth one I have completed is undergoing an intensive reworking. Incorporating the advice of two beta readers, a professional–but very affordable–editor, and my own ideas for improvement, I am now about three-fourths through yet another draft. It won’t be the last, but future sweeps through my WIP should take considerable less time. Continue reading

Sins of the Fathers (12)

 

I leaned back, stared up into the soulless darkness gathered near the ceiling, and began. “They’re always the same. Ira is making love to me on the floor in the front room of Granny’s house. But there’s also another Ira in room. He…he has a knife, and he’s cutting on people. Sometimes it’s his father, or mine, or Bubba Higgins. Sometimes it’s even Granny. He’ll be stabbing that switchblade of his into them, over and over again. Each time that other Ira sticks the knife in, the one on top of me rams inside me. It hurts and…and…blood is gushing out of me down there. I’m lying in a pool of it. And the worst part…” I paused, took a swallow from the bottle. “…the very worst part, is that I’m enjoying it, clawing at him, begging for more, even though I know he’s killing me too.” A shudder racked my body. Continue reading

Be My Valentine

 

don’t give me a blushing red heart
hand over your black soul instead
one I can bind with my wicked thoughts
and chain to my immoral bed

a soul that will lick my red-tipped toes
and tell me my taste is sweet
and using a warm, scented oil
caress my slender feet

a soul that will humbly bow to my will
freely offer a neck for a studded collar
clip on the leash with nervous fingers
as I lead, on hands and knees follow

a soul that will dare not question
while tied on their back to my bed
anything I may wish to do
with a needle and stout thread

i crave a soul as dark as mine
to get me through the night
no valentine for me, my love
give me your pleasure, pain and life

Photos from Pixabay

Dancing in the Dark

DancingInTheDark

Ah, Bruce Springsteen . . . be still my beating heart. I could listen to the man sing all day and all night.

His music has evolved over the years, but I can honestly say that I love the entire body of his work.

My long-time favorite, “Dancing in the Dark”, was the first single released from his 1984 album, Born in the U. S. A., becoming his greatest hit to date. It spent four weeks at #2 on Billboard Hot 100, and has sold over one million singles in the U. S. alone. It garnered The Boss his first Grammy award in 1985 for Best Rock Vocal Performance and won MTV’s Video Music Award For Best Stage Performance. In 1984, Rolling Stone readers voted it single of the year.

The video below features Courteney Cox–at the time an unknown actress–as the lady Bruce pulls out of the audience near the end of the song to dance onstage with him. Lucky woman!

Dancing in the Dark

By Bruce Springsteen

I get up in the evening
And I ain’t got nothing to say
I come home in the morning
I go to bed feeling the same way
I ain’t nothing but tired
Man I’m just tired and bored with myself
Hey there baby, I could use just a little help

You can’t start a fire
You can’t start a fire without a spark
This gun’s for hire
Even if we’re just dancing in the dark

Message keeps getting clearer
Radio’s on and I’m moving ’round the place
I check my look in the mirror
I want to change my clothes, my hair, my face
Man I ain’t getting nowhere
I’m just living in a dump like this
There’s something happening somewhere
Baby I just know that there is

You can’t start a fire
You can’t start a fire without a spark
This gun’s for hire
Even if we’re just dancing in the dark

You sit around getting older
There’s a joke here somewhere and it’s on me
I’ll shake this world off my shoulders
Come on baby this laugh’s on me

Stay on the streets of this town
And they’ll be carving you up alright
They say you gotta stay hungry
Hey baby I’m just about starving tonight
I’m dying for some action
I’m sick of sitting ’round here trying to write this book
I need a love reaction
Come on now baby gimme just one look

You can’t start a fire sitting ’round crying over a broken heart
This gun’s for hire
Even if we’re just dancing in the dark
You can’t start a fire worrying about your little world falling apart
This gun’s for hire
Even if we’re just dancing in the dark
Even if we’re just dancing in the dark
Even if we’re just dancing in the dark
Even if we’re just dancing in the dark
Hey baby

Sins of the Fathers (13)

 

“Care for a repeat of last night?” Max asked the next morning, his arms circling me as I brushed my teeth.

My eyes met his in the mirror. Along with a simmering desire, his shone with a love I didn’t deserve. I’d had sex with him, but in my head, had been joined with another man.

I smiled around the toothbrush. “Don’t push your luck, big boy.” My gaze dropped to the sink, watched the foamy water swirl around and down the drain. “There’ll be plenty of time for that when we get back home…” I was an expert at hiding what was going on in my mind—at least, when sober. “…tomorrow.”

“You wanting to head home now?” He swept my hair away from my neck. I felt his breath, his lips against my skin. “Don’t want to go back and take another look around the old home place like we’d planned, come back here and spend the night?”

“No, I don’t.”

He kissed my neck. “Okay, baby, if that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t a question of wanting to; I had to. Continue reading

A Speck in the Cosmos

 

We are that we are. We are the ones who learned to free our minds from our bodies. We are the ones who will exist forever. We are the ones humans call upon when they are in need.

We are gods.

All who came before us are no more, not even a thought upon the solar winds.

The ones who came after, the humans, we use for our amusement. There is no afterlife for them–only an eternity of nothingness.

And for some inexplicable reason, I find that sad. Continue reading