Darts in the Dark

Darts in the Dark

My time is now spent throwing darts into the dark, hoping that one sticks and makes its mark in the cork.

My aim must be off, maybe, or the target has been moved. I only know that my darts miss their marks

And clatter harmlessly onto the concrete where they’ll remain until the lights are restored. I’m a fool, but not

Inclined to go searching for sharp metal objects in this room, this tomb, where the light is forbidden and my feet bare.

The Fear Gremlin

There are nights when I lie awake, terrified for what the future might hold. Tomorrow is a gremlin crouching in dark 

Corners, his fingers wrapped around all the possibilities. There are madmen in charge of our security: liars and mobsters and

Thieves, that some hailed as saviors. But now, those of us who’ve studied history know we’ve crossed lines that may

Never be uncrossed. Who will save us from the gremlin? Who will pry his bony digits from our lives? Only we can save ourselves.

Because I Can’t Scream in Public

There is a gargoyle living in my gut. His gruesome stone snarl scraping against my colon. The heartburn never ends.

He must have moved in as a pebble, a tiny worry about what could be, and every minute since that shitty November day he’s

Grown more abrasive, more corrosive, taking up too many centimeters of my being. He spits acid from a contorted tongue,

Searing the lining of my duodenum, creating blisters that won’t soon heal. Resistance hurts, but acquiescence kills.


Slow Motion

Like a glacial landslide
Inexorable, inevitable,
One mere inch at a time
The panic grows

Humanity waits alone
At the bottom of the hill,
Daring the drifts to stop
As progress slows.

The cries are anguished,
Circumstances advance
Like a cancer on the skin,
Yet everybody knows.

Keep the tides at bay
Hold the line, tote that bale
Slam shut the heavy doors
While despair feeds the crows.

Who Did You Become?

On 11/9/2016
Who did you become?
A boaster, bragger
instant tagger
c’mon can’t we get
along?
Or a nervous wreck
jumping at shadows
bad dreams of
four long
years to come?
a silenced nightmare
holding back
salty tears of
frustrated
rage,
or an anointer,
bring it on,
free the monster
from his
cage.


59 Jumpy Street

Victimized, traumatized, taken for a fool, lessons in humility in a world shown cruel.

Innocent turned wary, bold turned meek, peace into conflict, strength became weak.

Now shadows come creeping in broad daylight; making for hesitance, a sad new plight.

Questioning everyone, every look, every move, proceeding with caution; so much to lose.

Fear can paralyze, dehumanize, diminish size. Close your eyes and realize it’s all been lies, 

Or fear can mobilize, energize, exorcise preconceptions in every guise.

Choice. It’s all choice. To go back into the water or to stay on the sand. Hold my towel. I’m going in.

Peace, people!

The Edge

  
I stopped at the edge of the forest, my feet toeing the line

Between sunlight and shadow, where squirrels scampered

Among crisped leaves, up and around the magnolias. No physical

Barrier barred my way, no fence or wall impeded, yet

My eyes lost focus in the dappling of the light, and I 

Hesitated to stray outside the confines of the civilized

World, where the rose-scented wind had my back. 

  

Just a Scary Night in Jacksonville

Studly Doright and I drove over to Jacksonville last Thursday afternoon to purchase a 2010 Honda Goldwing he’d found on Craigslist. Even though Jacksonville isn’t terribly far from Tallahassee, Studly arranged to take Friday off from work so he wouldn’t be driving home from Jacksonville on an unfamiliar bike after dark. 

Craiglist purchases always make me nervous. After all, there have been cases in which the person placing the ad just wanted to murder and rob someone by luring them to a meeting spot. As a proactive measure once we got to the designated location I stayed in the running car with my finger poised to dial 9-1-1. Studly shook his head and laughed at me. I get no respect.

Once we had the bike and title in hand, I set the car’s GPS for our hotel address and with Studly following on the Goldwing we set off across Jacksonville. Studly had instructed me not to worry if we were separated, assuring me he’d find the hotel on his own if necessary.

As soon as we got on the interstate a car cut in between us and in spite of Studly’s instructions I slowed a bit to allow him to catch up. Before long I spotted him in my rear view mirror making a move to catch me. Unfortunately, the driver of the car fell victim to a bad case of road rage and I watched in horror as he attempted to intimidate Studly.

Now, my husband is a former motocross racer. His reflexes and instincts are still sharper than those of most people I know, but this angry driver was incredibly aggressive and determined to teach Studly Doright a lesson.

When our exit popped up I hoped this person would stay on the interstate, but no, he came off right behind my husband. We immediately hit a stop light, and the driver stopped beside Studly. I was watching intently in case I needed to intervene. Studly was nodding. The driver was yelling; although, I couldn’t hear what he was saying. 

Apparently, the angry man finally felt vindicated and took a left turn as soon as the light turned green. Studly and I made it to our hotel without further incident. 

Once in our room I asked Studly what had happened. “Oh,” he said calmly, “he threatened to shoot me.”

My knees buckled. To think I’d been so concerned about the Craigslist seller and only mildly worried about the road rage guy. I didn’t sleep well that night. 

In the morning we left the Goldwing at the hotel and headed to a diner for a great breakfast. Much to my surprise Studly suggested we find a beach, so we followed the signs to Hanna Park, a gorgeous two mile stretch of powder soft sand. The tide was out, and we plucked a handful of delicate, intact shells from the beach.   

   
The walk and the clean tang of salt and sea cleared my head. All was right in the world, and I banished the potential violence of the night before from my mind. After taking Studly back to his bike we parted ways for the rest of the day. I drove down to St. Augustine to see what the outlet stores had to offer and Studly headed home to Doright Manor.

I hope that stupid driver came down with a bad case of diarrhea followed by extreme constipation and excessive gas. Otherwise, I wish him well. 

Peace, people.