80 Tickets

Summer can be hot sometimes, I guess that’s why the seasons change. My first show in my hometown was a flop, a dud, a disaster, no one showed up but a few cast members. I wanted to stop doing what I enjoyed for a moment or two. I reflected on the lonely nights on that ship in the middle of the ocean, I reflected on my divorce that no one cared about. My mother warned me at an early age that the men in our family have to guard their heart. She told me that it’s our secret weapon that eventually gets us into trouble, at least that’s how I took the warning. Most of my uncles died of a broken heart. I spent everything I had on that show, I couldn’t even pay my rent. Although I failed my first time, I still felt the magic. Upset and on my last dime, I did what I loved to do: “sleep and dream,” in my dream an angel told me that the gift to create comes from inside, he told me to get up and try again. The angel’s voice was clear, he told me that it’s never the amount of people that show up, it’s the message, the will to keep the show going. The angel told me he would send me some people with the passion to sell 80 tickets. When I woke up the angel was gone but he gave me the energy I needed to get up and print out 80 tickets. The next day I met ten people, I put them in the cast and we were ready to make a miracle. We argued, we laughed, but we kept creating the magic for a good show no matter how many tickets we sold.
“So West, how much are you going to charge for the tickets?” James asked.
I paused for a moment, “Twenty dollars, with dinner and a movie, the whole cast splitting the earnings 50/50.”
The stars were bright, we put on a show, and the place was like a starry sky at night. There’s something about a dream that makes life go on, their’s something about a dream that makes the show go on. I think God speaks to us all, I think he loves us all. Every veteran, every lonely child, I know he hears us. Even when we do some of the craziest things. Everyone has a different show to put on, everyone has a different picture of God, some people just stop believing, but whatever angel came to me in a dream at my lowest point, he gave me a good genuine crowd and a good show. I didn’t even have to ask, God knew my heart the whole time, he was even merciful enough to send me some help. We inspired a crowd of 80 people to create something themselves. Eager to see the angel’s face, I fell fast to sleep after the show, only to dream of a hand written note that read: “If I were to show you my face then you would look up in the sky and see no stars at night. I would hate to give away the end of your show. I’ll see you when your run is over.”
The End,
80 Tickets.

Surrounded

It was about midday, don’t ask me how I made it past the cotton candy protestors but I did. Megaphones filled with depressed people wasting their time trying to prove a point. For me to call them stupid I must first look at myself in the mirror. I can’t see from their eyes. “Ouch!” I just bit my tongue. They’re everywhere, searching for love, feelings and emotions, as soon as I escape to my man cave, I realize that I’m surrounded. I turn on the radio and I hear them, people expressing themselves from all walks of life. I open up a book and their voices levitate through my eyes. They’ve even made it on TV, crying, spilling their feelings out to the masses. There’s no escape, I’m surrounded, even when I’m alone I can see them online. Guilty, even me, people talking as though they’ve never done anything wrong, they just didn’t get caught, I guess, but they sure sound innocent. They’re the ones to blame for turning everything upside down, wait I’m guilty too. Or am I? Democrats, Republicans and Independents, who will be the last one standing. Wait I hear someone blasting their music, “Oh god they’re everywhere, liberals and conservatives, Jews and saints.” Drunk history teachers, telling children how great con-artist posing as intellects used to be even now in present day. I then hear a knock on the door, could it be a bill collector? I lock myself in the closet. I could have sworn I just heard a politician tell me that relief was not too far away. I’m a check away from being homeless. Once again I’ve been lied to, long live the lost and forgotten, there’s no escape from reality, we can only run so far until we finally realize that we’re all surrounded. They’re everywhere and they want to be just like their idol. I’m surrounded, no escape, they got me, I walk outside with my hands up, only to drop a smoke bomb from my mouth and escape through the sewer. I survive another day only to realize that my freedom is now even more in danger. I’ve just added more fuel to the fire. No surrender, I’m on the run, I’ve gone rogue and there’s no turning back now. I’m innocent.

The Volunteer

I can’t say I wasn’t thinking, because I was.
I can’t say I had second thoughts, because it was clear that I was certain.
If I were not afraid, I would be lying to you.
My heart is telling me this is the right thing to do.
After this life, some will say I was crazy,
Some will say I was stupid.
I decided to take the path less chosen.
I don’t know where I’m headed.
If bravery describes the decision that I just made then so be it.
I volunteered, no turning back now, my eyes are open.

Influence

I walked into a nursing home and the residents were putting wrestling moves on the aids. Hmm. Could they’ve been watching too much wrestling?
I look on the playground and I notice bullies being handcuffed. Hmm. I wonder what’s going on where they live?
I walked into a city and noticed that all of the races of people in the city were still practicing segregation. Hmm. They must not get out much.
My one friend gets upset when his wife doesn’t cook. Hmm. Could it be because she’s a construction worker or was never taught?
Times have changed, I guess that’s why the sun comes out everyday, we have to have something to look up to. I can say that the sun is one of the few things that does the same thing everyday. Hmm. Could the universe be just a big machine with astronauts messing up the gears?
She wears a pillowcase on her head because the doctor told her it would help her sleep better. Hmm. Did she read the instructions right?
He comes out of that church and always thinks the world is coming to an end. Hmm. He must of got the message.
Influence...influence...influence... When will I learn?

The Bad Habit

I can’t stop thinking about it.
It’s calling me.
It won’t stop talking to me.
It wakes me up out of my sleep.
I get through a day or two and the craving gets stronger.
It’s like it’s chasing me.
It’s embarrassing, I hope I never get caught in the act.
I can’t shake it.
A day would be perfect without it.
I’ll continue to count the days on the calendar until it’s defeated.
I can’t beat it.
It takes control of me.
It’s clear, that I’ve got it bad.
I’m human after all, I have a bad habit.

The Melting Pot

In my verbal speech to the diverse nation, I digressed. Bang! Someone shot me for expressing myself. It was my duty to serve and protect, yet I had been shot by the people whom I had sworn on oath to serve. In contempt, I sat in the hospital and watched as they patched up my womb. I soon realized that I had lived in a place where nothing makes sense, the women are easily deceived and I had fallen victim because I wanted to do what was right. Conflicted, and eager to get well, I looked around the room as the media slithered their way into a story. Someone even knocked out the air conditioner to protest my actions. I believed in my vote and now I’m a victim. With no air conditioner, I watched as protesters stood outside the hospital, some had stop climate change signs and stop the violence t-shirts. In deep despair, I climbed on the ledge of the old hospital window, wounded and all, I shouted into the melting pot, “I, my family and all who’ve served beside me, have given everything for the will of the public, and this is the thanks we get. Open borders, gun violence and even dead children in the womb.”
The nurses rushed in to save me, but it was too late, for I dived into the melting pot and none of the citizens that I’d spent my whole life serving bothered to catch me.
The Melting Pot

Crying Babies

Once upon a time; hold up, give me a second, someone is in the room. It’s a human baby crying. I don’t know what to do. I can feel the baby’s pain, he’s upset about something. The child is teaching me a very hard lesson about life. I then take my shirt off of my back to comfort the child. He stops crying, I smile, I think the little fellow likes me. Let me get you to understand where I am. It’s late, I’ve given some girl a ride home and she lives in some pretty harsh conditions. But with her smile, life isn’t so bad but why does this feel so strange? It’s better when you show love, I guess. I start pondering... this kid could grow up and give me a reason to keep living someday. It’s too bad he’s not mine. This little fellow could be the only friend I have, I guess that’s why babies cry. This is where we get to the end of the story, because I just took my shirt off of my back to care for someone’s child. For some reason this story has to be personal because strangers can end up at the wrong place at the right time. I go down stairs and his mother is gone. She abandoned him, as hard as this situation is, I think his mother knew the whole time what she was doing. This was a setup from the beginning. For a moment I feel sad...I’m in a very awkward situation. I review my own life, my heart skips a beat, I’ve been played. I slowly walk into the room confused and angry. Don’t ask me why but the kid fell straight to sleep in my shirt, I pause for a second, the little guy reminds me of myself. This must be my crossroad, this must be the time when I have to sacrifice, the time when I have to be the good guy in a story so I take him in.
Seeing him attend his graduation 17 years later made it all worth it. It’s been a tough road and I just about have nothing left but this is a good day. I’ll accept it, I have no regrets. Divine law gave me a choice to raise a child and the son came out the next day. Oops, I mean the sun came out the next day.   This was the story that saved my life, I felt sad so I started typing away. The story of crying babies. In sorrow and pain they somehow have a way of throwing back a lifeline to someone having to deal with reality. We never know how the story ends we just hope for the best.
The End