Friday, September 11, 2009

Then It Is Gone

Then It Is Gone
By James Dubeau

Once you have it
Tight in your hands
You can feel it
Hold it close
See it
Smell it
Taste it
But then it all changes
A slip
A fall
It crashes down
Leaving nothing behind
Only emptiness
And longing

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Clip Clip

Clip Clip
By: James Dubeau

Clip clip
Flying across the room
Bits that were part of me
Nothing but deadweight
But necessary still
To protect my toes
From blunt trauma
One by one
Cut nails fly
Sock will no longer catch
On the gnarly protrusions
And I feel
Times more

Monday, September 07, 2009

Life Floats On By

Life Floats On By
By: James Dubeau

Life floats on by
As one grows older
Each day brings
New treasures
Some are expected
Most are not
Which are favored
It is to hard to tell
Anticipation provides
A great payoff
But sometimes not
Only leaving disappointment
When it doesn’t fulfill
Which is why
Unexpected can be better
When one does not know
Surprises can be greater
More rewarding
Than if you had any inkling
As to what was in store

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

Omelet Has You

Omelet Has You
By: James Dubeau

(NOTE: This story was thrown together in a moments notice baised upon something a friend said on FaceBook. Reader beware, this is a terrible first draft.)

“You won’t get away with this!” Shoshanna spat across the kitchen. Her hands were held locked in gooey melted cheese.

“Not only can I get away with it,” a chunk of diced ham fell from the omelet’s mouth as he chuckled, “I already have. This time the tables have been turned. This time I have you.”

The young woman struggled against the bindings, but it was useless. Melted cheese stretched and oozed into gaps when she moved. There was no escape.

Green pepper chunks bounced across the floor as the omelet slid across the floor. The evil gleam in his eyes reflected on the knife and fork in his hands. Tongue licking his lips. “I wonder if you taste best with salt and pepper or if I should slather you in salsa.”

With a crash the door flew open. A pot crashed into the edible beast, hot coffee splashed upon its yellow skin. “NO!” the omelet screamed. “You can’t have her! She is mine!”

“She is yours no longer!” Pat lunged, egg beater in hand. Within moments the omelet was reduced to crumbles and the girl was saved.