Monday, December 29, 2014

An excerpt from the next novel

Working on the first page is often the hardest part, as I like to write first pages that both convey things about the main characters and hook the readers.  Here is a sneak peak of the first page from my next novel "The Catch to Release." 

Let me know if you're hooked?

     Addison Weller pushes the steel bar to open the underground garage access door and ushers the Honorable John Errington ahead of her.  The fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up.  She listens and hears drops of water pelting the concrete floor.  Her eyes follow the sound to where condensation drips from an overhead vent above the cars parked near the wall.   A prescient tingle taps lightly over her spine. Reaching her left hand inside her jacket, she puts the tips of her fingers on the butt of her FN 5.7 pistol.  She places her right hand lightly on the back of the Honorable John Errington. 

      A chauffer watches them over the hood of a limo sixty feet to their left.  Weller notices he is immaculate in a gray suit, white shirt, and silver tie. His face is as smooth and regular as milk, until he reaches inside his jacket. One of his brown eyes darkens and squints in an aim, as he pulls out a Sig Sauer P299.  Weller does not hesitate.  She draws her heavy FN 5.7 smoothly. Her left forefinger brushes the safety off as her gun slides over the crisp linen of her suit vest with a soft rasp. She tosses her head to clear away a dark brown wisp of hair in her site-line as she levels the gun. Adjusting her own aim to the poor lighting and the lack of breeze underground, she strains to hear over the adrenaline roaring in her ears.  As she fires, she takes one long sure step forward, bringing her own body between John Errington and the Sig Sauer’s speeding bullet.  

Sunday, December 21, 2014

This fight isn't fair.

I am David,
      And You, 
The social Goliath.
Our rows
      Shatter bones,
       Batter and break
                                  Hearts and heads.
We accuse,
     Punish and convict
                                         One another in a bath
                                                                                Of All kinds of sins.
But Emotions
                      Are like winds
                                              Without cardinal directions.
You never
   Conquer me.
I never
          Secede you.

We are two waves
                              of the same breeze
                                                             On one sea
In a vast cosmos of larger oceans.

I am David and you are Goliath,
                       Only in an ant’s eyes.
We cannot be distinguished from the skies.
All that you do to me
                                  you do to yourself as well.
We forget
To enjoy
This disappearing
 For all that it is worth
In anger's blackhole flare.
This fight isn’t fair
We are both,
                    Already won,

We cannot diminish
     Either of us,
Only shuffle
     The balance.

Our primal ability to love
Is unimaginable, 
There is
Unquenchable ferocity
In our existence.

This fight isn’t fair
Because there is no contest,
Only contexts shifting like shadows
Beneath a multitude of lights,
Davids and Goliaths
On a grain of sand,
Called earth,
On one vast beach,
Called the Milkyway.
And here
Time is
A tide,
In out in,
And around Again.
We begin,
Before fairness even got started.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Free to fall on my face ...

As an artist, I feel the need to remain experimental and fall on my face on a regular basis.  In that spirit, I've decided to try to mix two of my great first loves: spoken-word poetry and techno.  The resulting song is a mix of one of my poems, "All the lights are flashing."  Please take a listen on Soundcloud and feel free to start the belittling commentary (or moral support):

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Blacklight Blackheart

Smartphone DJ in hand
No text can asunder
Her piratical plunder
Of the dancefloor denizens

She is a blacklight blackheart.

Take a spin,
She’ll proctor the gamble,
on her Win-a-Sin
Any deal
Paid in steel
And leather,
Stilettos optional.

She shivers the Timbres,
And rattles the bored.

A blacklight blackheart,
Bearding gigolos
And whatever else goes,
Arrogant alone,
Any braying bark,
Without condone
On a sea of sound.

Her hips a hit-and-run,
Broad side to a full-figure attack.
Her lips a Jolly Roger stun,
The kiss a hempen jig,
On a storm waltzing rig,
That will leave you unstrung.

Be wary, be smirched,
Believe there be treasure,
But be sure you were told.

She is a blacklight blackheart.

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