A Bad Omen

A crack in an encased mirror,
Dredging up an ol' superstition...
A prick on a finger from a thorn,
Cursing at an innocent gardner...

A presence of an animal corpse,
Unsettling feeling arising within...
An unexpected bump on a course,
Causing a skip on a heart beatin'...

A presence of a lone crow cawing,
Ignoring the myth about souls...
An apparition of black cat darting,
Pressing back on the folklores...

A myriad of unreal coincidences,
Tearing it up at the inner cores...
A series of bad omen hit ashore,
Snubbing to build up the defenses...

The Simplicity of the Ruse

The listless expression on your face,
Shows the toll taken by the grim news...
The smile you maintain with hesitance,
Makes it harder not to see thru the ruse...

The jitteriness within every movement,
Shows the unsettling nerves within...
The rapid spouting of every statement,
Makes it harder to watch you squirmin'...

The hard swallowing of the food you eat,
Shows the loss of taste with every bite...
The alarmed expression with each beat,
Makes it harder not to see your fright...

The loss of words during a conversation,
Shows the rate at which you zone out...
The quiet strides ahead without emotion,
Makes it harder not see you falter 'bout...

Crossing the Line

Some people swore that the house was haunted. ‘That statement’…that is how it always started. It was a ploy to get the kids to think freely. It wasn’t our first choice…for kids to be the subjects, but their imaginative skills…the creativity…that’s what we really liked. With adults…they had total control over their thinking, which made free-thinking very difficult. The way kids let ideas manifest fear in their hearts…the way their thoughts came to life as they were put into a sleep induced state. This was how we studied the effects of fear: how the brain registered activities when fear took hold of a child. We hoped this would answer the ultimate question: “If you die in your dreams, would you die in real life?”

There isn’t a child out there that hasn’t heard folk stories or ghost stories. A form of entertainment, no harm no foul. Then there are people with mental illness that can’t tell the difference between hallucination and reality. If we can find out what it takes for our brain to take imaginary things and perceive it to be real, then maybe we can find a way to help people realize the difference between the two. This was what our study was about. We particularly chose this horror aspect of it because this was one topic that caught like wild-fire. Kids couldn’t stop themselves from thinking. Their imaginations evolved quite rapidly. It was perfect for a simple study to see how the brain activities changed as the ideas grew more life-like. We believed we could find out when fear turns into fright…a dream into reality. There was a thin line between the two and we were making progress.

The drug administered that put them to sleep induced state magnified the stimulations already present in the specific regions of the brain…which in turn amplified the senses to make it feel as if they were actually seeing things they imagined. We monitored all the vital signs as well as the brain scans mapping the activities during the event. Just to make sure of kid’s well being, there was always a watcher present in their dreams, blending in the background…observing. If abnormality was present, watcher would pull them out of their dreams instantly.

Using a serum to extremely heighten their senses…was something we weren’t going to apply in this experiment being that they were just kids. But when the experiment results were so close and seemed yet so far away we decided to try it out on one. The stories had manifested into quite a horror story…we recorded every story he dreamt of, every conversation he had with his friends. The dreams manifested his worst fears. As the serum took effect, the dreams became more illusive, more frightening. There was total chaos in his thoughts. The ideas weren’t as seamless as before.

It was going fine in the beginning but as he progressed into his own story, he started to lose sight of what’s real. He knew he had created this, that it was not real but his senses were pushing him towards the brink, the line had been crossed…the brain activity data soared. He was perspiring heavily…heart rate was uncontrollably high. The watcher wasn’t able to keep up with him. The surrounding chaos didn’t help matters much. His brain had taken it all to be real. He died trying to escape his own dream. The watcher awoke as he watched him holding this fragile child in his hand as his life slowly faded away…taking with him his dreams. Nothing was ever the same again after that.

My try at short story....I'll have to rethink this one...

And Yet...

Beauty of the world surrounds you,
Yet you experience no such colors...
Crowd of people share their news,
Yet you hear only those of losers...

Gush of waves tell of their wonders,
Yet you think only of their struggles...
The human emotion show no borders,
Yet you see it separated in bubbles...

Sea of butterflies scream of freedom,
Yet you only read of those in prison...
Crafted songs voice people's wisdom,
Yet you fear of it not being in unison...

Blue Sky shows a boundless horizon,
Yet you know of only the restriction...
Our earth basks in the glow of the sun,
Yet you only think of the UV-radiation...

Obsolescence

A fire without the air,
A person without the ties...
Hiding beneath the lair,
Journeying with a guise...

A rose without a thorn,
A person without the spite...
Trying hard not to be torn,
Holding it in all too tight...

An ocean without the tides,
A person without a passion...
Engorged in massive ties,
Forceful on a set mission...

A wave without a motion,
A person without emotion...
Achieving a lasting notion,
Persona towards deletion...

Mind Over Matter

Tears fall within the heart,
Yet a smile covers a face.
Eyes always a sensual flirt,
Tragedies leave no trace.

With the mind over matter,
The pain is nowhere near.
Dreams don't really shatter,
Beneath the looming fear.

Peace and calm reign over,
Meditating near the beach.
With a help of a good singer,
Harmony is within a reach.

An Excerpt From A Notebook...

There are days when I lie down in the freshly cut grass on top of a hill...in the stillness of the night...and just be totally absorbed in the distant twilight. The faint glow spawns vivid memories that are embedded deep within the crevices of the intricately designed brain of mine. I gaze at the stars and without recognition I notice myself humming a tune that is strangely familiar and yet totally unfamiliar.

It's nostalgic even!!...giving me a sense of something tangible. Suddenly...I realize my watery eyes.

I stop humming and yet I continue to hear the tune...LOUD and CLEAR...

Soft breeze passes by...blowing locks of my hair towards my face. It feels like someone just ruffled up my hair....That nostalgic feeling takes over me once again.

The forgotten memories from long ago...

Another swift smooth breeze sweeps past again and it feels like someone just parted my hair exposing the glowing brown eyes hidden within...the gentle breeze felt almost like a soft hand grazing past my forehead.

The tune reaches its height. My gaze completely in tune to the stars and yet what I see are not just the stars...but a vivid scene replaying right in front of me. There...in the background is that strangely familiar tune playing and I feel the soft whispers in my ears...inaudible and yet audible. It's so hard to explain...

The rustle of the leaves add to the strange sensation... I am sitting by the tree on the top of the hill on that particularly quiet night...similar to today...only difference is that there is my parents sitting just beside me...embracing me as I enjoy the twinkling of the distant stars with a smile on my face.

The memories of those lost whispers...an unforgotten promise they had made...to never leave me alone...
I stare at the distant stars with my vacant watery eyes...and those whispers grow louder...
WHISPERS of the promise they had made so long ago...to leave an imprint forever tacked on in the distant universe...that from there they will be watching over me as I grow old.

Those sweet whispers that is suddenly fading away as the wind slowly migrates away from this hill...silencing the once exuberant rustles amongst the leaves. This unbearable silence extends...enveloping me...crushing that nostalgia...and I no longer hear the tune.

Those ever so precious whispers...that unforgettable tune....Oh how I long for it to not fade away...

I try to hum like before...wishing to be not left alone for just a moment longer....just a MINUTE longer....
But no voice come out from my mouth...no external sounds are audible even...it's as if suddenly there is an existence of a vacuum that previously didn't exist...

The place that brought me so much joy once...suddenly stopped being one and the tears consumed my once watery eyes and continued to flow...FLOW like a rampant river during the massive flood...

Lost in the Bubbles

Forged in the instance of chaos
Voids open in the endless seas

Swallowed thru with eyes wide
Familiarities of human existence

The atrocities that's left unseen
The suffering that's been hidden

The lonely cries that's lost hope
The events that's been ignored

In the depth of the seas they lie
Buried...hidden...lost...unheard

Souls ever marred by injustice
Outcry to be lost in the bubbles