Haggard Paladin

Haggard Paladin

By: James Dubeau

Once upon a time

My sword shined in the sun

Strong and sharp

I stood

Waiting for the dragon

To crest the hill

Ready to be slain

But now I sit

Haggard and old

Rust flaked from my sword

The edge could not cut grass

As the dragon flies

High overhead

Breathing down fire and death

Upon all I hold dear 

There is nothing that I can do

But wait

And hope

For an opening

To slay the beast

But it will never come

Before the time

Left in my soul

Melts away

Wash Over Me

Wash Over Me
By: James Dubeau

Waves of euphoria
Washed over me
As I laid there
Entwined with her
It was like
We had known each other
Forever and beyond
When we had met
Unexpectedly
The night before
As if we had never been apart
Words flowed freely
Across the pool table
Beer went down
Between the shots
When the night was over
We laughed and sang
All the way back
To my humble home
But when the alarm rang
All that my eyes did see
Was nothing but
The blinding sun
Washing over me

Sand Through My Fingertips

Sand Through My Fingertips
By: James Dubeau

Sand through my fingertips
Flows as a waterfall
Mounding a hill
Beneath my hand
No matter how hard I squeeze
Or softly I caress
Sand finds its way
Through the cracks
And crevices
Escaping to freedom
Away from me
Each and every time
Morning
Noon
Dusk
Each time
Sand is scooped
Piled high in my hand
With hopes and dreams
But the same happens as before
Beneath my hand
Mounding a hill
Flows as a waterfall
Sand through my fingertips

Wakeup Call

Wakeup Call
By: James Dubeau

“You know how much I hate mornings,” Mark groaned as he rolled over and buried his head under the pillows. Susan had sprung out of bed and ripped the shade open to bathe the room in bright sunlight.

“Wake-y, wake-y, eggs and bac-y!” Susan practically sang as she pounced back onto the bed. Mark sensed her onslaught and flung a spare pillow at her. She caught it in midair and landed on him, the pillow cushioned her landing. Then she sat up, straddling his body under the sheets, and started beating Mark with the pillow.

“Stop,” he protested, holding his pillow tight against his head. “I just need five more minutes of sleep.”

“You said that you would go running with me before class,” it was more of a whine than it was a beg.

“Tomorrow. I’ll go with you tomorrow. There is some studying that I need to get done at the library before class today.” He lied.

“Fine,” Susan pouted. “I’ll catch you after class tonight then. Don’t forget, it’s your turn to make dinner.”

She hopped off the bed and pulled on a pair of running shorts and a sports bra. Mark peeked a look while she got dressed, hiding back under the pillow when she turned to find her shoes under the bed and looked at him.

“See you tonight babe. Love ya.”

“Love you too.” The door slammed leaving Mark alone.

It was hollow. Everything. His words. His thoughts. His feelings. Love is what his body and ego tricked him into believing. Mark’s mind knew it wasn’t love. Not any more.

With a sigh, Mark got out of bed. A long and peaceful shower was in his future. Alone.

Perfect Circles

“Have you ever met someone that can draw a perfect circle? It’s amazing really. A thing of beauty. I hate those people.” Mike said to his therapist as he slumped back into his chair.

“Why is that?’ Laura asked as she jotted down notes.

“Something that difficult shouldn’t come easy to anyone. You shouldn’t be able to just whip out a pencil and draw out a perfect circle. There is no such thing as a perfect circle. It just doesn’t happen. People should not be able to draw one by freehand.”

“What about Coke bottles? Or bubbles that children blow? Those look like circles to me,” she retorted.

“They are circles, but not perfect circles. The Coke bottle has some flashing sticking out of it. There are weak spots in bubbles that lead to deformities resulting in a circle that is most defiantly not a circle. There is no such thing as a perfect circle in nature. They just don’t exist. People should not be able to draw one. Nothing is perfect.”

“Is that what this is about? Perfection?” Mike hung his head and nodded. “You have to let her go Mike.”

“I can’t,” Mike sobbed. “I’m not good enough. I’m not perfect. She will never love me again.”

“You have to be strong Mike. It’s time to move on. There is no such thing as a perfect circle, you said so yourself. Free yourself from her. Be a deformed circle.”