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Together: Friday Nights at the Roxy 

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Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on June 12, 2020 at 7:55 PM


Some are like water

They take on the form of their container

Others are a bit broader

Yet the some are the ones who seem to be vainer

It is the others that refuse to be chained

The some are rather mundane

While the others try to hold back, they try to restrain

The flood of emotions that flows from their pain

The some, they would rather not place blame

Perhaps it is the only way they are able to maintain

The some may very well be more sensative than the others


Monochromatic or a rainbow of colors


The others, have never forgot nor forgave

And so creates the paradox

Of the human who once was a slave

The Magpie and The Hummingbird

Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on December 15, 2019 at 8:10 AM

The Magpie and The Hummingbird

There aren't many of us left, are there?

Hummingbirds I mean

We are few and far between

But chosen nonetheless

To fly with such grace

Prismaticly brilliant feathers of lace

The magpie loves us

They are drawn to our twinkle...

Our spark

The light to their dark

They can't differentiate between

Want and need

Controlled by jealousy and greed

We are, gracefully silent and bold

While they are the ravenous

Is all that glitters gold?

Bequest.....'Emily Dickenson

Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on December 15, 2019 at 8:00 AM


Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on September 1, 2019 at 3:50 PM


He gently ran his hand up and down my arm

I intertwined my fingers with his

The line of sunlight reflected brightly

Off of his perfect face

I looked into his beautifully curious eyes, "What?"

Frowning at the idea of him not liking me


I recalled all of my secrets in spite of this




Telling them all




I shut my eyes tight awaiting the explosion


I opened them slowly


I found myself staring back into his eyes

No longer curious

Simply beautiful

There were no more secrets

no more lies

I gave up a lot


So much more was gained



But love


What Becomes?

Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on August 24, 2019 at 3:40 AM

What Becomes of Me, after the broken heart?

After the rain?

After we fell apart?

After the pain?

What becomes of us, the broken hearted?

After love has departed?

Worse off than when we started

No better than before

Now, nothing more

Than empty shells left to endure

Alone... In silence

A solitary violence

That you must keep hidden... somehow

From everyone who thinks that you should be over it by now

I Want To...

Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on August 11, 2019 at 1:05 PM

I Want To...

I want to say something

A speech

Something beautiful

Yet sorrowful

All at the same time

I want to write something poetic

Something really magical

Yet unhappy

And it doesn't need to rhyme

I want to sing something

A heartfelt balled

That will make you want to cry

I want to give up

Yet I want to try

I want to dance

I want to move to the melody of life...

And death

To the beat of my heart

To the sound of my breath

In The Company Of The Moon

Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on August 8, 2019 at 8:45 PM

In The Company Of The Moon

My eyes fixed themselves on the placid moonlight that painted the ceiling
I stared at it... while I drowned inside of this hopeless feeling
Laying here
On my bed
In the darkness
Left in the company... of nothing
But the words you said
Before you left
Left me here alone
Just me... and that patch of moonlight
That forced its way into my pitch black
Beautiful beginnings
Sad endings
Shaking my head... at the memory of us
In bitter disgust
Trying to knock loose
All of the tangled thoughts of love
Of what once was
Now.... there's nothing left
But the light of the moon
Thet crept in through my window
And fixed itself overhead
Chasing away the shadows
And looming over my bed
Comforting me
Keeping me company

This is our last kiss

Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on August 3, 2019 at 8:25 PM

This is our last kiss

I made a promise to myself to try

So no matter what, I won’t cry

I won’t brake down, I’ll keep my tears in my eyes

Because showing my emotions never made you stop your lies

Seeing me when I’m a mess

never made you any less…

of a liar

So no matter what, I’m gonna do my best…

to hold my head higher

Than before

I’ll become colder than you ever were

Without saying goodbye, I’m going to walk out the door

I’ll smile at the thought of never seeing you again

Of locking you out and never letting you back in

Even though I’m right next to you

There's no point in telling you the way I really feel

My heart is crumbling right beside you

But you’re too full of your self to ever keep it real

This is our last kiss

You just don't know it

I made a promise to myself to try

So no matter what, I won’t cry

I won’t brake down, I’ll keep my tears in my eyes

Because showing my emotions never made you stop your lies

Seeing me when I’m a mess

never made you any less…

of a liar

So no matter what, I’m gonna do my best…

to hold my head higher

Than before

I’ll become colder than you ever were

I’m gonna leave without saying goodbye

I'll smile at the thought of never seeing you again

Because this time... I win

Internal Blossom

Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on August 3, 2019 at 4:10 PM

Internal Blossom

The day was about to begin so Tiffany rushed out of her backdoor in a hurry to sit in the garden behind her house and watch the sunrise. She’d carried a thin blanket out with her and spread it on top of the ground not wanting to dirty her beautiful light pink dress when she sat down. The flowers stood quite tall, taller than the day before, so tall that petunias, pansies and marigolds were all that she could see besides the sky above her. She laid back and watched the blazing orange sun on its way up to the sky, the way the petals mirrored its journey was fascinating to say the least. Not to mention how relaxing it was to sit in the midst of their sweet aroma. She preferred that much more than the smell of scotch and cigars she inhaled all day.

With a white satin gloved hand, she grabbed her frilly lace collar, bringing it closer to her nose to take a whiff. A pleasant smile graced her face, that awful odor was gone. There was nothing left in the air besides the scent of petunias, pansies and marigolds now.

Tiffany’s garden wasn’t your typical garden, she’d dug up the soil before planting the seeds and watering them just like any other person would. But they’d come into full bloom rather quickly, it had only taken two days and that’s when she’d realized that they were much more than flowers. Today was their third day and they were even taller now, she blinked a few times as gentle rain dropped from the sky. It had a cold sting to it but she stayed right where she was since the sun wasn’t done rising yet. Tiffany admired the rains diamond sparkle against the rising sun as it fell more steadily sticking to their petals and soaking her beautiful pink dress. The raindrops expressed an iridescent glow as the water rested on the flowers for a moment before dripping onto the ground. The April shower didn’t last long and the earth sucked it up quickly so what was once firm dirt was now soft mud. The flowers tugged on her soul and like a magnet to metal she was unexplainably drawn to them. She found herself abandoning her normal routine of staying in her room trying to remain hidden. At times she even resorted to locking herself inside of her closet all day. That’s what she’d do in hopes that he couldn’t find her, but he always did, and as strange as it seemed she felt that the garden helped her feel better. Tiffany knew it allowed her to see something she should have recognized a long time ago . . . that he needed to be stopped.

Tiffany’s ambiance was finally interrupted by him calling out to her from the backdoor. Life gradually came back into focus and the sun had finished rising, now it sat in its proper place above her. The Sun had chased away the rain and the pink and red cotton clouds and brightened everything it touched. Tiffany’s eyes were attached to the peaceful pale blue sky as she breathed in one last breath of fresh air and felt it caress her down to the bone. She collected herself in preparation of what was to come then she obediently jumped up and rung her drenched blanket out as best she could before rushing back into her home.

When she returned to the garden later that night various shades of red stained her clothing, splatters of crimson, drops of scarlet and smudges of auburn. Lines of ruby liquid dripped off her white patent leather stilettoes and absorbed into the thirsty earth with every step. She dragged her heels exhaustedly through the thick dirt before dropping to her knees and marveling at what suddenly appeared. There was a light within the flowers that made them glisten and her chestnut eyes never looked away from the spectacular show it began to put on. She tried not to blink, not wanting to miss their yellow and purple sparkle as it grew bigger, brighter, illuminating its surroundings while an overwhelming feeling of joy saturated her soul.

Her wispy hair chased after the familiar breeze of spring while she cautiously crawled over to a marigold. Tiffany reached out a shaken and torn gloved hand, while a weary smile spread across her face. She sat there stroking its glistening petals and allowing their sweet aroma to embrace her senses. Soft lights miraculously appeared above the flowers, three phosphorescent balls of purple, yellow and green danced against the darkness. Her eyes followed them into the sky making her oblivious to the flashing red and blue police lights approaching in the distance. Even though the sounds of their sirens got louder with every breath that she took she was too impressed with the balls of lights to care. They suddenly flew directly in front of her face, twirling around her head like a crown then gently lifting strands of her onyx curls before letting them fall again.

Tiffany’s eyes popped open with overflowing amazement when she noticed tiny white butterflies landing on her shoulders one by one. She giggled at the little fluttery creatures at first then almost instinctively her eyes darted back to the flowers as they all began to shake as if a furious wind had blown through. Except there was no breeze, the air was still… silent. It was so quiet that she was able to make out the sounds of men’s voices in her home. They were talking amongst each other in a low serious tone. Her curiosity made her look into the dark familiar windows where she saw vertical and horizontal beams of bright white lights. They moved around slowly, seeming to search every corner of the old Victorian. This is the end they’ll surely find me soon enough Tiffany thought as she shook her head and laid on the cool dirt. The earth comforted her as she brought her attention back to the enchanted circles that danced around her a few more times before completely vanishing.

In the pitch black of night, a solitary petal burned like a floating ember as it sank down to the earth. She lay there in her enchanted Shangri-La and waited for the police to drag her away. Oblivious to her dress, which had turned into a cloak of white ruffles, butterflies from head to toe.

The police walked out the back door of Tiffany’s house still searching with their flashlights. One of them called out for the others in a deep voice that pierced the night’s silence. All the men hurried to the far end of the yard combining their lights with the spot light that already shined on the lively flower bed. There underneath the cover of petunias, pansies and marigolds lay a satin glove, a pair of stilettoes and a pink blood stained dress. They were partially buried in the rich black soil and they were the only things that the earth left behind when it took her.

Together: Friday Nights at the Roxy

Posted by Blog Of A Storyteller on May 2, 2013 at 2:45 AM

This book is very real and touches on alot of things including a side of the rave scene that has never been spoken about. not in this way. I wante my readers to feel the love, and as you read you can see how what matters to Rama slowly changes until finally nothing else matters but Ryan. As you approach the end she stops talking about everyone else and her world really closes in on only them . . .


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