Mason’s Writing

Five-minute poem

This is a poem that has not deep meaning
This is a poem born out of shame and haste
This is a poem I regret to write
This poem like my life is a placeholder for greatness
This is a poem I wrote in but five minutes
You may be surprised at this poem’s sudden

Confused Lady

I knew of a lady confused
Of this I was much amused
With hair all a fray
And eyes led astray
My patience in now almost used

Extra, Extra!

Saints with angels
Gunmen kill
Shooting tragedy
Proves a blessing
Rainbow of controversy:
Destined to die
Toy grenade fails
Operation Damage Control
Many messages inspire

Honeyed Words

This is the poem that makes you think so deeply
   About life and love
In the twilight hours of your mind
That expand your every horizon
Because my words are like honey
   Dripped into waiting ears
Because of the magic I use
   To bring you under control

And when fear grips your heart
Under the blazing sun
Know that this poem is only as beautiful as any other

Watching Wooden Eyes

There are terrible consequences for losing family heirlooms. For John Wasamula aka Johnny Wasabe, he didn’t want to think of them as he franticly searched his truck for the cause of his troubles: the wooden tiki that was supposedly passed down through his family since the ancient times. Why did I have to go to work today? He thought as took almost everything apart looking for the tiki.

Unbeknownst to Johnny, the tiki his family valued so much did in fact possess mystical powers; however, the details regarding these powers have been lost to mortal history. The true purpose of the tiki was not to grant luck like so many believed, rather it was to imprison the mischievous god Gansvien.

Gansvien, lord of lies, the prince of parties, Gansvien had been biding his time since before civilization crawled up out of the mud. Now, after centuries of collecting energy from useless humans the time had come

The old god streched his wings and looked around. His surroundings were quite boring. Time to liven things up, he thought. He saw Johnny still searching the truck, phone in hand, as he put up a search on the Web for anyone who could find the now useless tiki.

Slowly Gansvien transformed his appearance to a normal man.

“Hey, you need any help?” he asked. Johnny turned, but was immediately snatched by Gansvien,

“Now mortal we’re going to have some fun.” Gansvien said with a predatory smile on his face.

Time passed before Johnny came around again. He was back at his house, only it was no longer his house. The small two-bedroom house had been expanded to palace-like dimensions. Then the memories returned. Not knowing why he had driven the stranger back home, then the stranger transforming into some kind of demon, and… and…. He couldn’t remember after that.

Eerie sounds emanated from the room beyond, and so, throwing caution to the wind, Johnny entered.

“Hey buddy!” a voice called out, “you’re missing the party!” there was the demon amongst throngs of people who seemed in a trance, “I like it here.” He said again, “I think I’ll stay here for an eternity or two.”

Nightmare of Delusion

In the dark
The red light shines
Oh no, I thought
A warning whines

The red light shines
Magnificent is its glow
A warning whines
I’m much too sad to go

Magnificent is its glow
Peaceful and serene
I’m much too sad to go
To reality, my dream

Peaceful and serene
Thoughts of you fill my heart
Reality, my dream
Proudly I wear the mark

Thoughts of you fill my heart
Oh no I thought
Proudly I wear the mark
In the blessed dark

Oh, Just Kill Me Now!Personal Suicide in the Halls of Learning

It was the first week of school, the first day of school actually. You know that time, right? All the people who you missed over the summer are suddenly thrust back into your life; they’ll say you changed, or you’ll say they changed. But ultimately, it is one of the few days of the school year that breaks away from the day-to-day monotony that makes you want to kill yourself, in that metaphoric way.

Well, for one student, Christina Thompson, her biggest change over the summer was that she was dead when school began, cold as the tiles out in the hall. Not only that, but not a few minutes after she was discovered, rumors circulated saying that she killed herself in the not-so-metaphoric way.

Now I don’t know if you would call it defense of the rumors, but that scene was looking quite cut-and-dry: Christina was hanging in an elevator from a noose made of electrical wires, both wrists slit with a bloody pair of scissors found at the scene.

Me? I say it was murder. Why would she off herself in an elevator? There are better places to do that, like where the roof meets pavement. Furthermore, why would she kill herself on the first day of school? In my past experience, the first day was the easiest and it was finals time when a few grams of lead between the eyes sounded like a good headache remedy. But such odd cases are the specialty of great snoops like myself.

Oh! That’s right I never introduced myself, (I’m clearing my throat): Jacqueline A. Harrow, investigator third class of the Special Cases and Modern Mysteries division of the Urban Police Force. Most people call it “SEAMS” and those who work in it, “stitchers,” all of it in an effort to dehumanize a group dedicated to supernatural crimes, but to me, it’s always an adventure instead of work. Just ask my de facto partner Mark Stanz (he’s a ghost)…

Read the rest of the story in the print version of We Digress… being released May 7, 2012.

The Me from Twenty Years Later

In twenty years I won’t even recognize myself. Gone will be the Mason that everyone passes off into the background. No, in twenty years it will be Mason the thespian, the writer, the famous. My current flabby exterior will have been sculpted into the perfect picture of health.

I will have created works of art that will stand the test of time, such masterpieces that will be lauded as being quintessential of the current generation. My touch on those that read my words will inspire them to go on to do great things; so different from my current array of comments that are brushed aside, as insignificant as the one who spoke them, like a ghost on the wind. But as I raise my family I would do so in the hopes of being a fraction of what my father was to me: humble, wise, and overall a moral person.

When I look back to this time when I was at the cusp of life, I will laugh at the arrogance I displayed, the childish antics I reveled in, and my utter rudeness to those who held the most influence over me. That is who I will be in twenty years.

The Grand Adventure That Is Life

Life isn’t just about your quantity of friends
Your boyfriend or girlfriend
Or your grade on the math test

Life isn’t just about where you live
How you got there
Who you stepped on

Life isn’t just about the money in the bank
The money you find
The money you steal

Life isn’t just about your ambition
Your special spot at the lunch table
Or your preference in reading material

Life isn’t just about when you were awesome
Why you stopped calling people
Who you left behind

Life isn’t just about the people who like you
The people who hate you
The people who pass you by

Life isn’t about order
It isn’t neat and tidy
It isn’t about fairness

Life isn’t about what you drive
About your physical appearance
About how much you stalk the person you like

Life isn’t about perfect
About the a major or minor
Or even about being among the stars

Life is about morality
Mortality
Chaos

Life is about choices
The fate of chance
Pushing boundaries

Life is your friend
Your foe
But more importantly
Life is for you to explore

Black & White World

I only have one memory of my brother, and that was what he looked like when he lay in his coffin. I was about 10 at the time, and my brother peaked at 20. He was some sort of musician, or whatever, and all I can remember about him was that he was sleeping in a box with people looking at him. Our parents were crying, and some music – I think it may have been his – played as we filed past.

From then on there was no music in our house. No one listened, no one played, and if I started humming I was glared – or whacked – into silence. So on it went. Life passed by without color or sound, just a black and white world that I had to endure.

Eventually when I got into high school, I grew to dislike music. My mind blocking out all the noise as someone opened their mouths to sing or picked up an instrument. I was content, kept to myself and participated in life.
Then one day after school, while I stayed back to work on something I saw her. She seemed nice enough. I had seen her only once before, something had changed her. Such a beautiful person roaming the halls, it was like she came out of a fairy tale.

Then I heard it, softly at first, growing louder until it was a cascade of pitches and melodies: this was music. Like the appearance of lightning, my world was changed; immediately colors filled my view with such vibrancy it was almost unbelievable. This torrent of life sprang from music and from one person. I then knew what I had been missing for so long, not only music, but love and other emotions that were closed off when my brother died, such emotions that I was refused so that I would not have to undergo such pain again. Music and love.

I’m Learning to Write

I’m learning to write
I’m learning to speel (spell)
I’m learning to speak
Really well
I’m learning not to curse
I’m learning not to dawdle
I’m learning
(And it really hurts me)
Not to think ill of others
I’m learning to “pronunciate”
When presenting an essay
And I’m learning
That it’s much, much easier
To be we three
My echo
My shadow
And me

The Feeling Did Burn Me

The feeling did burn me
Clouds in my brain
Heart like a piston
Knees going lame
There is no mistake
This I am sure
This is love
Or something more

I curse thee O’ Cupid
That your arrow did fly
Aimed at tender lovers, surely
But to strike one such as I
A mistake you have made
As my heart starts to glow
It pleads yes
But the mind says no

The lady in white
Calls me from the dark
Her eyes draw me in
That power is my drug
But my heart grows heavy
Weary of this “love”
Is there truth to these feelings?
Or youthful crush to fell?

My lady calls to me
My longing grows fonder
My doubting eye closes
My heart yearns
My arms fall wayside
My eyes down cast
My mouth unsure

Her gaze like a laser
Her touch like fire
Her words like acid
Her image blinding
Her sway like the ocean
Her wit like a spear
Her moves like the river
Such a beauty so harmful
How long can I resist

I have fallen for her
I have fallen in love
But a loving fool I be

The Shower

I wake from the cold
Hazy and wanting
I travel down halls
My vision blurring

Outside is dark
When light doesn’t dare
Wind whips my robe
It doesn’t seem to care

Shuffled steps
To painted door
Out of sleep
For Evermore

The shower it waits
With arms open wide
Bare feet step in
The curtain doth hide

The water hits
First it freezes
Thrusts me into memories
But shock soon passes

Warmth seeps in
Pleasure invades
Sad is gone
The cold recedes

Steam does rise
As do my spirits
Growing inside
A song sings

Wrapped in warmth
I never want to leave
But reality beckons
To the cold where some do die

It stays with me
Entreats my mind
The thoughts of bliss
Till it leave me in a bind

The cycle repeats
Always the same
From cold to warm
Till that feeling leaves
With me to blame

How to Be Awesome

Being awesome is not as easy as one might think. Getting into the state of awesome is even harder because, if not careful, one might end up as something totally undesirable, like a troll, or something counter intuitive, a Michael Jackson.

Now, before we begin this quest to achieve awesomeness there are requirements, at least two things prove most useful: confidence, and courage. While these materials may not seem like much they were paramount to my own awesomeness.

The second thing is that people who are naturally good looking should disregard all of this, as others will create the awesomeness attributed to you.

Step 1. Don’t think negatively about yourself
             (or at least don’t stuff your thoughts with everything else from your old life).
Step 2. Don’t copy someone else’s awesomeness. That will confuse people.
Step 3. Don’t follow magazine steps, this ties into step 2.
Step 4. Say out loud to your closest friends that you are, in fact, awesome.
Step 5. Brush off all comments to the contrary with snide remarks.
Step 6. Believe in your core that you are awesome

I hope that this will help you achieve your own unique awesomeness; however, don’t forget the most important thing: don’t ever neglect your physical appearance, don’t ever let the world get you down (haters gonna hate), and lastly don’t ever think lowly of yourself.

BELIEVE IN YOUR DREAMS

When I Was a Soldier

When I was about 5 years old (roughly 4 feet and 300 pounds ago) the only thing I could ever think about for more than two minutes was army men. This strange fascination manifested itself after seeing all the cool toys at the store and watching movies like Commando, Terminator, and Predator (which all had cool guns and Arnold Schwarzenegger, now that I think about it) at the foot of the TV. After much internal debate, “Which is cooler, being in the army or a marine?” I proclaimed to the heavens, “I am going to be an army guy!”

So I collected all the camouflage, plastic guns, and helmets I could lay my stubby hands on and set out to create an army because what kind of soldier could I be without an army? Friends at school had no interest in this, and besides they were too far away to be of any use to me, leaving me with my closest friends at the time Geoffrey and Kaimalu.

Playing in the back yard became our own personal movie. From the crick-snap of magazines ramming into place, to imaginary sand biting at our soles, we were no longer Mason, Geff, and Kaimalu. No, it was Sergeant Mason, Corporal Geoffrey, and Private Kaimalu out to save the world with justice for all. Nothing could contest with our courage and skills. I was the guy every dude wanted to be and all the girls liked; not the quiet guy people ignored.

As we grew, sadly, so did our interest in other things. Mine in computers and Kaimalu’s (strangely enough) in architecture. Only Geoffrey kept to the military, but in the Air Force not the Army.

Still I will remember those times when we could retreat to our lush tree-top headquarters after quarrelling with zombies, gnomes, and whatever else threatened the free world. Only time will tell if the real world will need me in uniform.

Kingdom in the Music Sea

My place starts with a chair, worn and familiar nestled in the shade beneath a tall coconut tree. A sea of music laps at my feet, their vibes quelling the anxiety that grows in me. Behind me rises a mountain range always capped with brilliantly perfect snow that leads to hours of enjoyment. To one side of the mountain the land is encapsulated with rain. Oh, how I love that rain when it creates a twilight effect on the ground, the silvery sky overhead, the water that cools my body. I always wonder why no one liked the rain; that is when all life flourishes.

The other side of the mountain is home to a lord’s castle, not my own as I feel that there was another before me. The castle’s interior is a sight to behold, replete with purples, reds, and gold. Ornate, but not offensively so; regal without trying; impressive, yet at the same time, homely. The courtyard and garden are just perfect, like the god Apollo came down to lounge in the garden. Indeed the flowers and plant life always seem perky and in full bloom in the never-setting morning sun.

Bellow the castle lies a grand forest. Here I vent my troubles, my hopes, my fears. The forest distracts me, only my thoughts may roam here. This is my place, the place where I can truly live.

I Look to This Shell Aghast

I look to this shell aghast
This is no shell but a mirror
One that shows a lonely line
So abstract and different
Where does this line fit in?
Or does it flow into Never
Alone and distant

This shell shows me a hidden path
One unmarred by stranger’s eyes
A path to Calm, to Serenity
To riches abound, but only for me

I see a danger, rows of teeth drawn into tight smile
A maw of blackness to swallow me
Such is it’s nature, no ill will towards me

This shell is a scared cat
Wishing to travel through life, anonymous
Blending with all it tries to continue
But exposed it is lost to worlds unknown

This shell was the start of life
The skeleton of all that we are
All that we will be
Heartbeats unseen under ribs not formed
Nature’s canvas where beauty escapes mortal words

Words to Know: In General Life

Star (n) 1. A ball of gas millions of light years away from you. 2. Bright lights in the sky at night. 3. A term for famous people (see celebrity).

Watch (n) 1. An object used to tell time. 2. Thing that replaced the clock/sundial. 3. Noise maker. 4. Accessory to one’s ensemble. /wat/ch/ Synonyms: timepiece, timekeeper

Pencil (n) 1. Device that uses graphite to create marks. 2. Essential equipment for school. 3. Yellow stick with the number 2 on it. Sample sentence: “Rodney, have you seen my pencil? It was on my desk this morning.”

Blave (v) 1. To trick or to dupe. 2. Like lying. 3. Essential device while negotiating (see bluff). /bla/ave/

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