Class Is Now In Session

He writes a message on a blackboard.

She writes a message on a blackboard.

They both write on the same blackboard.

Chalk dust overlaps the previous entrenched canals

From chapters of artists who have came and went.

He and She have been gone for years.

They never intend to come back.

They have no need to.

             pointless.

A Knight, a night.

The eyes sink deep into its skull

(like)

Stones cast into an unblemished lake.

The hands are quick to react

(yet)

Sluggish to deliver. 

Shrieking pangs of silence fly

(by)

 Its crooked ears.

Insomniacs everywhere scoff

(and)

Call it an asshole.

Galloping through your world, you

(are)

unaware of the chronicles of immortality. 

"Hi, my name is Kathryn."

I find myself sitting on a stone bench alongside a gravel path in a park. I'm under the shade of a huge maple tree. It's cold in the shade so cold that it's almost unrealistic. The grass surrounding the bench is unusually long. It's almost as if someone has forgotten to cut it in years. The sun makes a jagged yet accurate line across the brown colored gravel path. There are no sounds except the sounds of the golden maple leaves hitting the very long grass other than that, it's completely silent. No birds singing, no cars running, nothing else in this park except me. Sitting on the stone bench. 

I notice I'm dressed for an occasion of some sort. It's not formal but it's not casual either. I'm wearing a light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and khaki dress pants with brown shoes. I sit there examining my surroundings. My concentration is broken by a young lady in a black dress walking down the gravel path. I've seen her before. She has light red, curly hair and she looks absolutely beautiful. She is so happy. Her smile is so perfect it's like an artist took his whole life to paint it that perfect. I just sit there and appreciate how beautiful she really is. She hasn't looked at my once. She hasn't even noticed my presence. Then I stand up and walk out of the shade of the tree and into the middle of the path where I meet her.

When she sees me her perfect smile runs from her face like grains of sand in the wind. I'm still in awe of her beauty. Then I slip out of it and proceed to greet her. "Hi there beautiful, how are you?" She doesn't say anything. The wind starts to pick up, slowly. Her eyes start to water like she's on the verge of crying. Everything seems to slow to almost a crawl. I move closer to her and gently put my hand on her cheek and kiss her other. The leaves are swirling around us. Just us. It's like we are attracting them some how. There are so many. It's like we are in golden wind storm. My eyes explore the jaw-dropping environment that just formed around us and I notice everything is frozen for just a moment except me and her. She mouths something to me but I can't hear it, I can't make out what it was. And before I could ask her to repeat herself,time catches up to us and the massive amount of leaves that were swirling above us fall and obstruct my vision. I shout her name over and over again but she doesn't respond. I can't find her. I would give anything to find her. I fall to my knees with the last of golden maple leaves gently falling down in rhythm with my tears.

Gone are the birds

I find myself in a prison cell. The cell is completely dark except for the hopeless beam of light coming from near the top of the wall that seems welcoming but unreachable. At this moment in my life, it's the most beautiful thing I've seen in years. Then again, it's the only thing that I haven't managed to screw up yet...give it time, it's like clockwork. My wrists are bounded together with rusty shackles. The heat of the room forces you to feel every bead of moisture that you breath in. My clothes are sweat laden and dirty from previous unknown encounters. The every-now-and-again blood stains on my tainted (or what was) white dress shirt that I wore so proudly before help me piece together the memories that lead me here.

I sit on a rock near the river bank...where we decided to meet. The sun sits high and watches me like a weary parent. Birds in the trees above sing in a heavenly tone. The river provides a comforting, natural harmony that calms the butterflies in my stomach transiently. The old tire swing sways gently in the wind while the rotting rope clings with all of its strength to the thick branch; fighting for just one more day of happiness and dignity. Your favorite flower rests in my hands as I patiently await your arrival. I softly roll the stem between my fingers in great anticipation to see if your smiling face will come around that corner, but who are we kidding? We both know that you won't be here. Yet I still cling to the roots of hope of past memories shared together that are never to be repeated. There I sit on that rock near an unreserved river praying, pleading to God for this moment to arise.

Hours pass and still no sign of you. Gone is the sun...overtaken by darkness. Gone are the birds...replaced by shadows. Still I sit here under the bleached moon light, blanketed with an unrelenting chill. I gaze into your flower with lifeless eyes...gone is my love for you.

Hal The Mule

I watch him drift in and out of sleep. He is fighting gallantly to keep his consciousness in his pocket, but he is growing weak. The sound of the old grandfather clock ticking is visiting with the sound of his jerking back and forth, hitting the head of the chair. He cannot carry on like this anymore and he finally gives into this swindler of the tired. He lets go and begins to frolic through fields of chocolate bars and in the middle is his longtime friend, Hal the mule. They start to converse about this and that.

This man who just whisked himself into slumber is my father. As he continues to talk Hal the mule, I examine him. I look at his black, thin hair that is now inviting the ever incumbent Mr. Gray. I gaze upon his face and hands that have become withered in time. Age and hard work are the prime suspects. I begin to think about what he has seen in his days. What kind of places he has been. I think about the first time my mother laid her eyes on him. I think if I could ever be as hardworking and loving he has been. 

He wakes up. Asks me what I want to watch on T.V. 

"I don't care. Whatever you want to watch is fine."

I have never had a relationship. Yes, there were those junior high "relationships" that everyone had at one point. They were as common as Furbies or Giga pets. People ran through them like an adolescent through his/her first package of condoms. In my eyes, those relationships don't really count in the relationship category. If you go around telling people that you dated "so-and-so" because he/she are now famous for whatever, that is a lie. You just simply expressed an attraction for the opposite sex at an early age of pubescence. You can go around telling people that the person who is now the editor of GQ magazine or who is now currently making out with Johnny Depp on the red carpet once had a crush on you. That's fine. But, you and that person never had a relationship. I have been close to having one, but either it's something she did or I did that either of us cannot get over and endure.  (In the future, life permitting, I plan on listing the Top Five "Girls That Got Away" so, stay tuned) I have been focusing on this one chapter in my life as of late. I don't know why, but it just meandered its way across the main avenue of my mind and sat down with my conscience for a drink in the saloon. It's about a girl, of course, but this girl is nothing like I have expressed in my previous blogs. 

Please, let's call her Meagan. Now, Meagan is a very beautiful, smart, responsible young woman. She basically had all of things I was looking for at that time in the opposite sex. The only thing that was off-putting was that she came on way too strong and started talking about the strong feelings she had for me. I, being uncomfortable and scared by this, pushed her away. Don't get me wrong, I liked this girl. I liked her. But I'm the kind of guy where if I like someone, I have to take it slow and see if we are right for each other. Now, a year has passed and while I look back on it and her, I realize something. She showed me some things that some girls that I have been crazy for could never show:

1. She wore her feelings and thoughts on her sleeve and wasn't afraid to have people think otherwise.
2. She expressed undying devotion towards me and we weren't even going out. To have someone cherish you and your presence like that is something that no one should overlook. I didn't really think about it while it was right in front of me. I had to get burned by someone else to see it clear and true.

So, I deeply apologize to you, Meagan. I'm sorry I was so blind and immature when you met me. I hope and pray for the best for you. I know you will continue to be a beautiful person. I will also like to thank you for showing me something that I should have been looking for the whole time. 

See ya around,

Lucas James

Ode To A Snowflake

And It glides gently through the air with little effort

Floating from left to right

Back and forth like a frozen buoy atop a rocky ocean.

Wandering aimlessly through the times, being very polite.

And then it lands,

resting on fallen brethren.

A clock stops ticking, a bird stops chirping, a heart stops beating

and they all just watch.

A squirrel scurries to get a better look, a tree stands proudly,

and a man just keeps walking.