the crow and the line... (THE PAGES)

by
Jack Roth

“A crow perched

so nice

on an electrical line.

Mouth open.

It’s calling.

It’s calling.

It’s…”

___

Calling.

___

“Did she fuck him?”

“When can we meet?”

“Why’s she invited? I’ll just have to be nice.”

“No, I’m not mad…”

“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t…”

“She can’t…”

“…if he tries harder…”

“Why the fuck…”

“…couldn’t even eat today…”

___

Passing through

with a heavy coat of conversation

My hands still stained from the

last request.

Days rested in sorrow are a

playground

and

war zone.

The spill becomes so much

my head hurts…

My dark friend eyes me and smiles

I could reach up and snap –

(that fucking neck)

I could breathe once –

(and the world would be a waste pile)

___

“…acts like a jerk in front…”

“I told you that…”

“…lost the fucking ball…”

“Well, they just need better…”

___

Voices of calamity –

they will be the ones that pull

(the fucking trigger)

I just guide.

(in the darkness with light…

…in the shadows that never cast…

…you can only see what I show…

…and feel what I touch…)

The edge of town comes…

I must keep moving.

The darkness of the forest

gives warmth as

I know it’ll be great.

Until the return.

___

“Look at him screaming.”

(It’s calling out.”)

“What for?”

(“Crows mean death.”)

“Not if that line gives it a zap.”

(Crows always mean death.”)


Read the entire THE PAGES series (hosted by The Penny Dreadful) at Read THE PAGES!

Lost the Way

by Jack Roth A stumble tumble. A hopeless hop. Everything shattered… Like a dolls face against a brick wall. The crunch and cut. The blood in the palm of my hand. A red sea shaking… Spilling over. Who needs to see to the end of the world and back? Who needs to see at all? But without sight… I’ve lost the way. Lost the way home. Lost the way to your heart. Lost all that has become ruins at my feet.

Nothing

by Jack Roth The darkness that becomes The rotten tide that stings my toes The burning sky The shards of ground that cut The slivers of wood that penetrate The falling hope The rising sorrow welcomed The ever changing eyes The... this... is... nothing.

Safe

by Jack Roth Safe. Like the rattle of the chain as it taps the door As it fits so nice in the groove... It'll hold out the bad The ugly The mean The truth that's coming The chain chipped the wood It moves so smooth Back and forth Keeping you... Safe.

The Falls Rise

by Jack Roth At bottom is where the beginning will reform Your spirit can carry you further than you believe it will You will can be challenged and killed The freedom taken at the sight of some wings Crumbling innocence. . . and ignorance A quick swim in the sorrow can soothe If you let it A locket of heart kept in my mind New eyes to see what’s really become Let the new world in. . . Let them find what’s left behind. . . When the falls rise.

A Short Tale of Two Hearts

by Jack Roth He loved her. So. She loved him. No. Their fingertips touched. Heat. The fire popped. Amber fly. She began to cry. Cold. He wished all the yesterday’s. Away. She welcomed all the tomorrow’s. Come. They pound the door. Unforgiving fists. He said understanding wasn’t. Welcome. She told him the pain was. Great. He wanted to know. Feel. She. Cut her heart out and handed it to him. Almost. Now he holds her. Heart. And her. Pain.

In Lie.

by Jack Roth Wherein lies the space – the open door the empty room. Color to black n’ white – to fade to dark. A spot on the wall. opens. . . cracks. . . welcoming to another. Cover it up. All of it. Change the locks (open your mind) Take new pictures (open your heart) Fill in the crack. All of them. All the lies. In lie.

Body. Now Soul.

by Jack Roth Caroline stood with her hand pressed against her lips. She looked and waited for the black figure to speak again. Or attack. She didn’t need to look behind to know if her angel wings were damaged. The last attack had been the worst. The black figure somehow just appeared and tackled her. He laughed, growled, and spat. She had barely managed to escape his grip to run away. And ran she did. She even smiled when she ran. Her hair danced in the breeze and she felt free. She even opened her arms and wished she would just up and fly. With that thought, she heard a tiny voice from insider her whisper “soon”. The trees looked perfect as they whizzed by her. The ground was slightly moist. The sun was high and bright. Everything was great. Until she stopped running. Caroline realized she was in the same spot as the attack before. She hadn’t moved. Confused, she wondered how she felt the wind, tasted nature’s air, and smiled. “Dig,” a voice called out. It came from behind her. She knew it was the black figure. “To be free, dig,” the voice said. Caroline stood quiet. There has to be a way out of here, she thought. “Dig,” the voice screamed. “NOW!” Caroline turned and the black figure was next to her. “Dig now.” The black figure disappeared. “To be free,” the voice echoed in the wind. Before she knew what was happening, Caroline had dropped to her knees and started to dig. Her small hands dug feverously, tearing the earth to shreds. Worms coiled in chunks of dirt and tiny insects buzzed in swarms around her head. Then she saw a bone. An off white colored bone. Just lying there in a shallow hole. Or grave. Caroline dug deeper and found more bones. Some where small pieces she couldn’t identify while others were obvious (with the skull being the most obvious). Then she found something else. A pair of dirty angel wings. She reached behind her and found her angel wings were missing. Her mind went frantic. Screams. Pain. Blood. An echo of laughing came from behind her and she felt someone push her into the hold she’d just dug. She looked up and saw the black figure. “Body. Now soul,” it said. Caroline couldn’t move as the earth started to cover her. Again.