Saturday, August 12, 2017

Working Title - Redemption

This is a work in progress - I think this is going to be the beginning of a novel that has been floating around in my head and in some of my journals for a while:


Redemption – 8/12/17

A Deadly Librarian Novel

The sound of gunshots and screams woke the rough looking man on the corner

“Shots fired! Shots fired! Ah, I'm hit!” the Police officer screamed in pain as he keyed his CB. Blood streamed from his head and both arms. “I'm bleeding, my throat... my arms are broken.” his voice weakened “I...I...”

He didn't know why he got up – he didn't even realized he had walked over until he was beside the officer. The officer was a black man – he looked to be in his late forties and fairly healthy other than the profuse bleeding. His breathing was labored, the blood from his neck wound had splattered his white stubble-laden chin.

“D...Don't...” he sputtered feebly

“We have to stop the bleeding.” the disheveled man said quietly and evenly. “Let me get your first aid kit.” He popped the trunk remotely and grabbed the box full of bandages. “I am going to probably have to trach you – that neck wound is bleeding so badly, I am going to have to bandage it tightly – I am afraid it will choke you if I don't provide some help.” His voice was strangely calm as he staunched the wound with his shirt. He held a gauze pad tightly against the wound and wrapped it with the flexible cloth bandage in the kit. “Looks like you are breathing ok.” The bum picked up the CB handset. “We have an officer down. This is car..49. Do you copy?”

“Who is this?”

“I was sleeping nearby – the shots woke me. Officer... Wilson is down, GSW to neck and both forearms. Neck is life-threatening, both forearms are shattered. I have the neck wound wrapped as tightly as I dare. I do not see the perp at this time, officer is missing his tazer and his sidearm is still holstered. His shotgun is still in the car.” A scuffling noise nearby made the scruffy man look up. “Correction, perp and about five others are surrounding us now.” he dropped the handset and pulled the shotgun from its resting place. “Stop. Now.” The tone was commanding but not strained.

The figure that had been shuffling directly at him gestured with his gun. “Get outta da way. We gunna kill dat pig.” He appeared to be in his twenties – his baggy jacket bore a repeated pattern of the logo of some music star. His clothes were new, ill-fitting, and dirty. He smelled like marajuana and cheap beer. In one hand was a pawn-shop pistol.

Well, it didn't take something expensive to do the job, just something effective, the bum thought to himself. “No, you're going to die. You're not smart enough to walk away, and you don't to look weak in front of all your homies.” The tone was matter-of-fact.

“That pig is an oppressor, an Uncle Tom – he holdin' us down.” A bear of a man to his left spouted up.

“Oppressed? You all are out here doing nothing – not working, not struggling. You're all wearing name-brand clothes and brand new shoes. You don't know oppression. When did the local police come to your house and kill members of your family to send a message from the government?” He looked around, checking his kill order. Two obviously armed opponents with firearms, a couple who might have brass knuckles, and definitely knives all around. “I've seen real oppression.”

“'Nuff talk...” The shooter stepped forward and then flew back as the shotgun blast caught him full chest. Everyone else froze. They were bullies, street-hoods, not battle tested. The tall, thin white man standing between them and the prostrate police officer was not something they had come across before. He worked the shotgun's pump then leveled it at the nearest thug.

“You may want to go now.”

Cursing as they backed away, the remainder of the gang left.

The stranger wrapped Officer Wilson's arms as gently as he could. He could hear the sirens coming – coming for the two of them. Well, he had always known he was going to have to return to the world some day.

“You're going to be fine Wilson, just fine.”

Monday, August 23, 2010

Smothered

I don't want to feel these tears
They well up behind my eyes
But you've been gone for what feels like years
And I keep telling myself lies
From somewhere comes the faint scent of you
And it knocks me over
Honeysuckle, jasmine, roses in bloom
Never moved me this way
Memories overwhelm and drown me
I'm falling, sinking, buried alive
Why did you have to leave
I'm lost in the nowhere
The nothing you left behind
And there is no way home.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Relapse

Under my skin
My veins are burning
Shards of glass
Ripping
With every beat of my heart
Silently screaming
For I can't draw a breath
My tears catch in my throat
Choking, strangling,
Robbing my will.
I can't live like this,
My soul is sore, torn.
Alone, so alone
Someone please take my hand.
I can't see the way,
My eyes are no use
My spirit bleeds from them.
I'm shaking, I'm shaken
Losing, lost...
Find me... again.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Dissolve

All your might
Is in vain
No matter the effort
The result the same

You're grasping at threads
Unraveling
Shattering
Life undone
Coming apart at the seams

The majestic tapestry
Haphazardly rent and torn
Fraying away
Into oblivion

Plague
Famine
Poverty
Death
The horsemen ride
Upon you tonight

No mercy no pity
You're just a number
Just a statistic

Throw a pill
Down his throat
Maybe it will let him function
Maybe not

Who really needs to heal?
Stick a band-aid on
A dying soul
And pretend that it might work.
Crush the spirit
But keep the body,
We may need the resources.

It's all undone
It's all undone
Life, my bitter pill
Stick it under my tongue.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Iron

Standing here
Is where I belong
Where I have been
Where I will always be
I'm holding on
And standing here
Through fire and through storm
Through anger and hate
Through sorrow and despair
Joy and pain ebb and flow
But still I'm standing here
I felt the fear
Survived the sorrow
Still I'm standing here
I've been knocked over
I've fallen down
I've shed my blood and tears
My heart's been broken
My body bruised
My soul beaten for years
But next to you
Is where I belong
And I'm still standing here