Thursday, August 25, 2016


You are my moonshine.

Cold and intoxicating.

Your soft glow is clothed in stripped darkness.

Your midnight hair flows like silk as one thousand black lashes veil your eyes in gothic lace.

You are strong, challenging, and unattainably beautiful.

 There can never be enough of you.


A love poem I wrote for my bride October 2013.

If I could only reason
To see what I could see,
To learn what I could learn,
To be what I could be.

I might have taken chances,
Found new worlds to explore,
To love her and be loved
Cherished and adored.
Letters would be sent
To: By: Two they’d be penned
Two byes too they’d be signed
Sincerely yours, truest love of mine.

Tuesday, August 16, 2016


Julie in a trance
Watched puppets who danced
Twirling so high and fair.

Curious she springs
To see who pulled strings
Encountering nothing but air.

Tuesday, August 9, 2016


Original photo "1986 by Matt Leunig"

Matt was bored… and when a clever child becomes bored, they often create mischief.

 “Quit it” cried Danielle running from her brother who raced after her as a madman.

“BWAH! BWAH! BWAH!” Matt yelled with a ghoulish inflection, pulling his wild curly hair.

Matt was a brat. He’d do anything for a thrill. Tease his sisters. Eat candy instead of dinner. Play music really loudly. He loved being a problem, which was probably because of how smart Matt was. He was excellent at solving puzzles and mysteries; acutely memorizing details and keeping an array of factors in mind as he pulled together the most reasonable solution. For Matt, nothing was off limits. So when Matt’s mom and dad punished him by taking away all his video games for being bad, being bad was all that was left to do.

“MOM! Matt is doing it again!” Danielle screeched

“No I’m not.” Matt called back as he continued to chase and corner his sister.

“ MATTHEW… STOP IT!”  Their mother commanded.

“BWAH!” Matt continued his assault in plane view of his mom.

“MATTHEW!” She yelled. “GO TO YOUR ROOM!”

“BWAHAHAHAH!” The boy laughed with defiance stomping up the stairs to his room.

If there was one quality about Matt greater than his cleverness it was his pride. Even when Matt lost he had to do so on his own terms. If he was going to be in more trouble than he already was, he was going to make sure he it was worth it; laughing all the way down the hall and slamming his door.

He could picture the anger his mother held back ash she clenched her teeth and it made him feel victorious. But the cost of victory was freedom. Now Matt was a prisoner in his room. He had to escape… But how?

He pulled out his video game system to sneak playing, but his mom was also clever, taking the controllers and games, leaving only the console to flicker without input. Matt, not willing to be defeated by his mother, kept flipping the switch on and off as he thought. Suddenly, a new screen came up on the TV. It was a game. A game Matt never saw before. A mystery, as if built into the console for the sole purpose of reaching the one child who stumbled upon it. Almost prophetically the game scrolled the words “It’s a secret to everybody.” Then the title rose with flashing gold… “THE LEGEND OF DILECCE”

Matt could tell at first sight it was an adventure game, filled with puzzles and mysteries to explore. Unsure how to play, Matt desperately started looking around his room for an extra controller, hoping his mother didn’t take them all… But the game didn’t say “Press Start” as most games did. It said “Enter to Play”.

“Enter?” Matt thought. “Enter what?”

It was then Matt noticed the door on the console was open with a hole just big enough to fit his hand inside. Inspiration and intrigue overcame Matt, as if all at once realizing what he was to do. He placed his hand in the console, pressing down on the spring mechanism. In that moment the game took him.

He was there, inside the game, among the trees and caves, embarking on a quest with a sword in hand. The situation was startling, as monsters began to crowd around. Fear rose and sank in a single gulp. It was a new challenge, one that Matt decided to embrace.

“Game on!” Matt shouted before chasing the monsters with his ghoulish laugh “BWAHAHAHA!”

It was a new game. A new chance at adventure. An extra life.

Monday, August 8, 2016


Original picture created by Alex Cherry

It was autumn. The days were getting shorter. The temperature and the leaves were falling with the wind. School had already begun.

Abby loved to go to school. She loved the polished wooden desks. She loved the crisp scent of lined paper from her notebook and the wise ink within her passed down textbook. She loved the crumbled brick of the old building and the rusted iron frames around the windows. School was comfortable. Everyday Abby walked the tiled halls with her classmates with a solemn smile, assured that she would learn something new within the familiar building she adored.

More than anything, Abby loved recess. While her friends were off playing four square and hopscotch Abby sat alone, leaning against the crumbly brick wall, reading from a book she borrowed from the library. Today Abby was holding a book called "Hannah's Goodbye", a story of a little girl who had to move from her small town to a big city. It wasn't anything Abby could relate to as she already lived in a big city, but as she moved through the pages, pondering the sad transition of leaving home behind, it occurred to her that one day she would have to leave her school. She was in 6th grade already and in just under two years she'd be torn from the beautiful  and completely comfortable school she knew, only to be thrust into some strange new setting filled with strange new walls and strange new people.

"Hannah's Goodbye" was reaching Abby's heart. Page after page, Abby read as the book came to a conclusion Hannah had found a new home in a new place, forgetting all the sweet comforts of the life she knew. There was resolution in the story, but Abby was not satisfied.

"Something must be done!", Abby thought. "How could I ever leave this place behind? I can't. I won't!"

As if all at once she became inspired, Abby raced towards the stack of chalk left out by the kids playing hopscotch and four square. She picked through each piece until finding a heavy charcoal black stick that hadn't been used yet. 

"Perfect." Abby found what she'd been looking for.

The bell rang to line up, but Abby didn't want to go. She took hold of the black chalk and immediately began tracing the long crooked silhouette against the crumbled brick. When she finished she noticed that while the shadows around her had lengthened and flattened with the lowering autumn sun, her shadow remained fixed within the chalky outline. Even as Abby moved, the chalk moved with her. The capture of her shadow was intriguing.

"Come on, Abby. It's time to go inside" The teacher called.

"One minute." Abby shouted back. It was unusual for Abby to disobey a direct order from an adult, but this was serious. Abby turned the chalk on it's side and began making long hard swipes against the brick, filling in the borders of the shadow from head to toe as fast as she could; finishing the chalk as she completed filling in the body of her form.

"Abby, right this instant." The teacher commanded again.

As Abby rushed back to the line, there her shadow stayed attached to the crumbled brick wall. She drew her shadow... leaving a piece of herself behind to always be where she wanted to be.

Friday, August 5, 2016

The Devil Wore Her Face

The devil wore her face.

She stole my soul with her body. 

She corrupted my mind with her selfishness.

Everything was for her. 

The way she wanted it.

All or nothing, a
ll for nothing... 

Until there was nothing left of what I was.

She said she was in love with me... 

A sweet lie that taste like truth. 

That’s how she liked it.

They say the good die young. 

I guess we’ll find out how good I am.

Tuesday, July 26, 2016


        Ever since his dad took him on the lake, Billy loved the open water. From the static crash of the waves, to the crisp wind that flowed into the sails, nothing was like being on a boat. As soon as he was old enough, Billy would go to the marina by himself. All summer long, from morning until night, he’d spend his time on the pier making friends with the fishermen, learning about the deep. There was something peaceful in the conversing squawk of seagulls and the warm smell of fish that wafted from shore.

        Rarely could you ever find a boy as hard working as Billy. He often helped the boaters on the dock, bringing items into their ships, detangling their net, and cleaning their fish, all while drinking in each task that brought him closer to the sea.

        When the fishermen returned with a rowboat they found in the deep open water with no captain aboard, there was no argument among the crew that the vessel should go to the boy. Billy was in love. A boat of his own…. A boat with no name.

        From that day, Billy was connected to his sailboat, tearing through the tides of the summer bay's wake. The marina even let the boy keep his small boat at the end of their pier near the lighthouse. And while they were all aware of the dangers of the deep, they entrusted the boy's sense of responsibility; though the fishermen knew to keep an eye on the child. But boys, like fish, are quick and slippery creatures, often traveling into the unseen nets that lay before them.

        The sky was hidden behind a curtain of thick clouds when Billy left one morning. The docks were filled with empty vessels. Everyone was gone. The air was thin, calm, missing the smell of fish that wafted from the shore. The seagulls had also fallen silent, taking flight inland as seaweed crept onto the coast. That’s when Billy heard the curious chime of a bell ringing out across the glassy water.

        “Is someone out there?” Billy called into the deep.

        The bell continued to ring over him. Eagerly, Billy entered his boat, untying the complicated knot that held it to the dock of the attentive lighthouse. He pushed his way into the water, splitting the flat surface into bending ripples. The further he traveled into the deep, the louder the ringing rang and the heavier the air became; swallowing the boy, the boat and all, in the thick fog.

        “Hey! Are you out there?” Billy called to the clang of an anxious bell.

        Further in the deep he went, closer to his goal. It was then that the ringing stopped.

       Like a net pulling taut, the grey haze sky snared with an enveloping fog.  Wind blew tossing the boy and his boat. In that moment, the threat of the deep became realized and Billy quickly paddled back. Frantically, Billy rushed towards the turning beam of the lighthouse’s lantern, hoping for land.

        “Help!” The boy yelled, rushing towards the high yellow lamp.

        Faster and faster he paddled through the turning waves, crashing against his small ship, water seeping in through the cracks. The desperation grew as the visibility diminished. Within the storm, the tiny boat was tossed and twisted, until suddenly everything stilled. All at once, Billy found himself on the smooth glassy waters, within the center of a hollow tunnel of fog. No land could be seen... only the tips of trees peeking from the mirrored surface.

        Billy scanned the tunnel walls, finding the flash of the lighthouse not far off. Tired from the thrashing sea, he paddled towards the high yellow lamp. Further in the deep he went, closer to his goal.

        The light grew as did the shadowy body that held it, until strange features became apparent. A heavy round base rose from the sea with long thrashing tentacles, each with it’s own row of hooks and claws. What Billy confused for the shaft of the tower was actually a thick neck which stretched upward. This was not the rotating lens of a lighthouse light, but the terrible eye of a monstrous creature seeking out the unfamiliar boat it had captured in the shore of his body. The beam fell on Billy until, like the light, the tiny boat was lost in the deep.