About Arcane Cognition

I write what i see. I write what I know. I write what I feel. I do not write what i think.

Chance

A chance to live, a chance to dream,
A chance to have been anything.
I lay here in my bed awake,
And dream of you until daybreak.
The silent tears, for which I’ve shed,
The sickening silence that runs through my head.
And I sit and I sigh, I’ve nothing to do,
Except sit in the silence missing you.
A chance to breathe, a chance to see,
A chance to be what I want to be.
I sit here in my room alone,
Thinking of things you have shown.
The words unspoken, that I hide,
The meaningless conversation has died.
And I sit and think, I’ve nothing to do,
Except sit in the silence missing you.
7-25-2001

Challenge

Here we stand at the first line,
Of the new outrageous rhyme.
Take in a breath and forget time,
(Now is the time to decline)
As I take you on this ride of mine.
Now relax and free your thoughts,
There is no need to be distraught.
Now that your attention I have got,
Please glance upon what I have sought.
There you see the shades of Hue,
Pastels first, Green Yellow Red Blue.
Just one last thing to do…
Past the Darkness we must get you.
Ignore it not, you wont get past,
Do not run, this will not last.
Take in a breath we’re moving fast.
Now you Star in a Cast.
Amazing sights start to take hold,
Starting first with days of Old.
Knights in armor being bold,
Pirates searching for their gold.
Don’t stand to close, this is a tour,
Now we make a short detour.
And if much longer you can endure,
However stop now, if you aren’t sure.
Now we stand at the Abyss,
You wonder how it came to this,
Of all the things you could have missed,
You would have never wished.
I know this is your darkest fear,
You must Defeat it Here.
Or the rest is never clear,
This too is not as it appears.
Now if we just get back,
And once again the pastels stack.
Do not stand ready to attack,
Now is the time we call for slack.
Here we stand there is no Time,
There is no Reason, there is no Rhyme.
They rhythm’s beat is sublime,
You can now turn on a dime.
Dreams with others we all share,
We float on clouds while we’re there.
We never seem to have a care,
But not much more do we need to bear.
At another bout of Dark we stand,
This is beyond the No Mans land.
Now is the time we understand,
What is the Force in command.
Here we see a once new plain,
Ready for you to master the Game.
I pray for your sins, I pray for your pain,
But after this, you wont be the same.
1-18-98

Why I Can’t Stop Him From Calling

Beautiful, lovely, seduce my heart,
Inch your way in to tear me apart.
Seduce me, love me, call me new,
As I wait for the gathering dew.
My eyes, how they shimmer and glow,
As comments are made of the melting snow.
And I can never turn away,
Or there will not be another day.
My glorious hair does shimmer and shine,
New comments, now on fine wine.
I start to stop the constant barrage,
A kiss is now added to the collage.
A body of a goddess in the mist,
All the things he has wished.
My movement, an art full of grace,
My lips too sweet to taste.
My thoughts captivating, enthralling,
Why I can’t stop him from calling.
3-25-98

I Sit Alone

I am alone, all in darkness,
I no longer love I am heartless.
Surrounded by a raging crowd,
I sit alone, I am not proud.
I love no one it’s such a shame,
I lost the love, I am to blame.
Misery’s not played by all,
I sit alone and go through withdrawl.
The love we shared is now gone.
I can no longer carry on.
Dreams are all I have to give,
I sit alone, no will to live.
All I wanted and needed was you,
You went away when I was blue,
Even though it was for a little while,
I sit alone, I can not smile.
When I needed you, you weren’t there,
I couldn’t tell you, I wouldn’t dare,
There is no hope now, I am gone,
I sit alone My sadness will last long.
You’ll never know how I needed you,
You’ll never know my love was true,
Life goes on in all it’s ways,
I sit alone, and will for days.

1989

The Dark Musty Alley

Cries fill the dark, musty alley,
All the things that can not be.
The things we tried to stop,
The ones that came out on top.
Laughter fills the dark, musty alley,
All the things that would be,
The things they all did,
The ones who always lived.
Tears fill the dark, musty alley,
All the things that should be,
The times it didn’t work,
The ones who did, under dirt.
Sighs fill the dark, musty alley,
All the things that had to be,
The times that were shared,
The ones who always cared.
Screams fill the dark, musty alley,
All the things never to be,
The things that were done in vain,
The ones lucky enough to end the pain.
Anger fills the dark, musty alley,
All the things that need to be,
The times that were full of regret,
The ones we never can forget.
5/18/89

Absurd

Dark and morbid til the light,
Silently dwindling with delight.
Teardrops of rainbows dried,
Fallen over the one’s that died.
No one knows of us beneath the sky,
Of how we live or how we die.
The screams we hear are all we know,
The attitude we attribute is “So”.
Laugh and wither with our sight,
So we may prowl upon the night.
Eat your flesh as the old,
Buying the souls that are sold.
Goodbye without a single word,
All because we are absurd.

1989

The year Nineteen Ninety-Seven

Whirling, whirling, the world of Fate,
We lost our Princess, We lost our Saint.
Who will save the world from despair,
Is there another waiting out there?

Whirling, whirling, the world of News,
Everything changes, point of views.
And we now stand on the verge,
Of information we must purge.

Whirling, whirling, the world of Hate,
A request for peace, a standing to Late.
We watched with not so blind eyes,
As someone repeated their lies.

Whirling, whirling, the world of Transportation,
Where now clones can take teleportation.
And in the future I see,
The past returning back to me.

Whirling, whirling, the world of Fate,
Toss and turn till it’s too late.
For this will be a better year,
As I see the sky begin to clear.

12-31-97

Lottery 1

    William Barrett had never been a lucky man. In all his 42 years he’d never met Lady Luck, though it never stopped him from looking.
    Card games, slot machines, online poker, even horses… William Barrett was always looking for Lady Luck in all the wrong places.
    It would suffice to say William Barrett was down on his luck, though he never let on how far down.
    His wife of thirteen years has taken their two children back to “Mothers” two weeks ago. She’d had enough of his get rich quick dreams. She was done going hungry over Love. She deserved better.
    The notice on the rent read, 30 days extended period denied, eviction if not paid in full by tomorrow. His wife had argued the lights on for the last time six weeks ago. The water had been off for two months.
    Sure, William Barrett tried to work. He’d been a waiter, a short order cook, a mover, and too many salesmen jobs to name. He just wasn’t successful at maintaining a job.
    The Tri-State Lottery was the highest it’d ever been, it was William’s last chance.
    The balls came up and the beautiful dark skinned woman pulled them out one by one. William stood mouth open as each number came up his. It was surreal.
    The next morning the eviction crew was at his door. They entered and began taking what few furnishings were left in the house. William woke up on the couch still holding his ticket.
    Without argument he left the house, to the local café. Jenny would put it on his Tab, his long running tab. The news blared over the breakfast crowd. The coffee was stale, and William noticed the lottery numbers come up on the screen.
    William reached in his pocket and pulled out the ticket, the numbers matched. The news anchor announced there was but one winning ticket sold. William met Lady Luck, but his joy never came. Gears clicked in his mind, who he owed, back tabs, bar tabs, food tabs… loan sharks.
    He looked at his salvation, his curse.
    He walked out of the café, ticket in hand. He walked down the street, under the freeway. There he saw a slender woman with medium length brown hair. He glanced at her, she was in her thirties. He walked up to her and handed her the ticket. He held up his right hand to her, motioning for her to stay back. He took a few steps backwards. Then slowly with his left hand he pulled out a revolver and stuck it to his temple. In one loud bang his luck had run out….

Dark Rock

     Maybe it was the coffee, or the joint, could have been the insomnia.  I got two hours of sleep last night.  The only trouble is when I close my eyes and dream, it’s not dream scapes I wander through.  It’s just one nightmarish hell after another.  It’s a good night that I don’t remember anything I dreamt.
     I long for the dreams of others, to have my teeth fall out or show up in public naked.  If I loose teeth in a dream it’s normally because someone has hit me and they are knocked loose somehow, one time they were shot out.  I’ve been naked several times, though no one has ever taken notice.  I wont even begin to explain that one.
     Nothing I dreamt before prepared me for this.
     I was sipping coffee, after having an after dinner toke.  I was playing some game or the other on a social networking site.  Just some random addiction to fill an otherwise boring uneventful evening. A painting I had bought at a starving artist exhibit hung on my wall.  A hill stood in the foreground, lush and green with sparse sprinklings of white wild flowers.  In the foreground was a grassy pasture.  A large willow stood to the left, twenty five percent of it was somewhere off the canvas.  On the right was a medium sized dark rock, framed perfectly on two sides with tall grass.
     I thought I saw a shadow of a rabbit run from behind the rock to behind the tree.  I wasn’t doing anything important.  I got up to look closer at the painting.  I reached over to touch the canvas.
     As my fingers touched the rough texture of the painting I felt a shock go through me.  For an instant the world was dark, then I stood alone on a pasture.
     The wind whipped against me furiously, I noticed my garments were from a different time frame.  And it was a good thing too, the fabric was so thick the wind did little to harm me.  It would have otherwise cut through me like a knife.  A full moon lit the landscape, but there was hardly any stars in the sky.  My hand still feeling a rough texture was on the back of a tree. I glanced up and turned around quickly to notice I was in my painting.
     I turned in the direction the shadow had run to and began to walk.
     After hours of walking, I could now hear the wind carrying more than autumn screams.   A violin or maybe a fiddle, was there a difference?  There was life out there.  I walked faster toward the music.  Slowly smells of burning wood filled the air, the music was louder as if beckoning me closer.  At last I saw a lone cabin.  Smoke poured from the chimney, and the lights blazed inside invitingly.  Music could be heard playing merrily yet, there was no barn, no garage, no cars, not even a mule.
     I walked closer and glanced in the windows of an obviously abandoned house.  A fire blazed in the fireplace, but there stood beside it no fireplace log holder or wood to feed the flame.  Music filled the atmosphere, but the house was empty of any kind of furniture.  There was light emitting from the ceiling, but looking at it scorched the eyes.  As soon as the black dot was gone from the center of my eye, I reached for the door handle.
     I clicked the latch handle and began to walk across the threshold.  I noticed out of the corner of my eye, a dark shadow figure peer out of the window at me.  As I stepped inside I glanced over but there was nothing.  An inspection of the entire cabin showed it to be completely empty.  It was clean, there was no dust or cobwebs.  The house smelled of pine as you walked room from room.
     I glanced out of the windows into the forest.  What was I going to do when I got hungry?  Wake up?  If I’m asleep then when does the nightmare part start.  I walked to the fire watching the flames dance to and fro playfully.  It was all so warm and comforting.

Teenage Ghost

     During the year nineteen seventy nine at boy scout camp, two eight year old boys discovered they were from the same town.  Jeffery and Evan were bunk mates at the beginning of camp.  Two weeks later by the end of camp they were blood bothers.
     When the boys returned home they found out they only lived five blocks from each other.  They became inseparable.
     All through middle school the pair could always be seen planning some sort of adventure for the coming weekend.  Every weekend they would explore some place new.  One time it was the abandoned house at the end of the lane, at night.  Another time it was the forest on the outskirts of town.
     Their favorite adventures however took place in Evan’s tree house.  Evan’s Grandpa built it for them during the summer of eighty two.  It had a wooden rope ladder to climb up, the door was a panel on the floor you had to push up to gain entry.  Hand painted on the door in huge black letters “No Girls Allowed”.    Once up in the tree house they would pull the ladder inside and  place an old suitcase full of books over the panel.
     They would travel to planets unknown facing fear and lack of oxygen to fight aliens never before seen, saving the human race before mission control recalled them for nourishment.  Pirate the seven seas and plunder til the moon rose high into the sky and only the crickets remained singing their victory songs.
     When the summer of nineteen eighty six started Jeff noticed his friend Evan becoming more distant.  Spending more time with Celice, Janice, and sometimes Rachel, three girls from school.  Jeff pleaded with Evan to spend more time with him.
     Evan had simply found something that interested him more than aliens, rockets, and pirates.  He also was having a hard time understanding why Jeff was not interested in growing up.
     By the end of the summer of their fifteenth year Jeff and Evan had parted ways.  Evan began to chase girls and pursue their interests as if they were his own.  Jeff turned to books, having his imagination as his only friend.
     The first year of high school defined the two of them in different ways.  Jeff excelled in school, spending almost all his free time volunteering in the library.  He soon made friends with the Audio/Video Club and joined.  Evan found out girls like a bad boy, he began to hang out with smokers at the handball court in the back of the school.  It wasn’t long til he was accepted into the group of local stoners.
     And so this was how it went, for two years.  Jeff didn’t speak to Evan, Evan didn’t acknowledge Jeff’s existence.
     It was Valentines nineteen eighty eight.  Jeff and the Audio/Video Club had a dance planned.  “Techno Heart Beats”.  It was sold out.  The homecoming committee did the balloons, streamers, glitter, and ticket sales.  The A/V Club did the lighting, music, and various other special effects.  Most of the machines were donated by Greg’s dad, owner of “You Party Rentals”.  He had a puppy crush on Ms. Flatmore, head chaperone to the dance.
     It was also a memorable time of year because a troubled teen by the name of Vi Iamdoe transferring in from out of state somewhere.  Her clothes and her attitude left nothing to the imagination.  Her glare was like a razor, her touch was said to be like snow in late January.  Her dark eyes were an endless soulless pit of despair.  When she spoke her tone always hinted the tone, “Abandon all hope, Ye who enter here.”.  You could feel the darkness radiating off her.  Her flame of attraction rose like funeral pyre in an autumn gust.
     The party started with much success.  Revelers enjoyed themselves within their various cliches.   Evan and his stoner friends congregated towards the back watching the scene.
     Then in walked Vi.
     It was like a vampire had walked into the room as a vacuum simultaneously sucked the air out.  Everyone’s eyes turned.  Time seemed to slow, and the music seemed to fade into silence.  Jeff felt a ghost run over his grave, a cold chill ran up his back forcing the hairs on his neck to stand on end.
     Vi said nothing, she stood just past the entrance.  Her posture enforced the sharpness of her outfit.  Evan had one look at her and the sirens call had been too strong.
     All that night Evan and Vi could bee seen together, entwined as if lovers of ages past now reacquainted.
     Jeff watched the next two months as Evan and Vi became closer.  Vi with her penchant for hallucinogens and speed, soon had Evan following in close pursuit.  Jeff heard rumors.  Evan and Vi were running a scam in bars.  She would distract, he would pickpocket.  Then more rumors about heroin.  By the time October rolled around Jeff had had enough.
     On Halloween, the most sacred of sacred times the two had shared growing up he decided to confront his blood brother.  Between third and fourth he caught Evan going up the middle stairwell.
     Students pushed past the two acquaintances who seemed to be having a heated discussion as the tardy bell rang.  A few lingering students heard their shouting in the hall as they made their way into their classrooms.  No one knew what the argument was about.  No one really knew why a Nerd would be hassling a Stoner, or cared.
     Jeff pleaded with Evan to stop seeing Vi, he pleaded with his blood brother.  Out of his love, he cried tears of pain.  He pleaded and begged, he shouted and cursed.  Anything to make his closest friend in the world turn back to good.  He feared for Evan’s life on the path he now choose to tread.
     Evan tired of his friends nagging turned to walk up the remaining few stairs.
     Jeff in a last ditch effort reached for his friends jacket.
     Evan tired of the nagging, the judgment, the berating, belittling, holier than thou rantings… grabbed Jeff’s hand and forced it off his jacket.
     Jeff lost his footing in the scuffle and began to fall backwards.
     Evan tried to reach out and grab Jeff, but he was too slow.
     The memorial was on a Sunday.  The A/V Club put together a tribute.  Evan stood alone.
     He’d lost his taste for Vi.
 
     Decades passed at Deerborne High.  No one remembered Jeff from the Audio/Video club.  People passed his picture every day year after year and never glanced at it.  The story and his face hidden in the trophy case with a small caption.  Some people got a small chill when they passed through the middle stairwell.  Most would just avoid it all together, though no one could ever say why.
 
 
     There had been a rumor long ago, but it had long since been forgotten.