Howlietzer Publishing

Tag: fiction

  • Perfect for Me

    Who is the girl for me?

    What will she be like?

    Something unimaginable I suppose

    For I have no idea what to see

     

    I picture a bride,

    Who deep down inside

    Wants to cut me to pieces!

    Adrenaline rushes,

    I must defend.

    In the end,

    We tame each other of those wild habits.

     

    Yes she shall be wild, but calm

    Steady; unalarmed,

    Thinking always, like me.

    She will be outspoken and funny

    And never a dumby

     

    In my place, she shall put me,

    But don’t think for a minute

    I will not fight back.

    It shall be fun.

    We’ll dance a dance of clever dispute

    Before we fall back into each other.

     

    I hope that she loves God more

    Than she loves me

    Cause that is the direction I’m going

    If she flows like myself

    And grows like myself

    There’s no telling what blessing shall fall on our home.

     

    There is more that I want

    But that’s just absurd

    No one is perfect

    Not even one

    So I fall to the Lord,

    And this is my plea,

    “Please send me my someone

    Who is perfect for me.”

  • ReDemon Chapter 2

    Book 1: Beckham Institute for Prodigies

    Chapter 2: Special Day

    Beckham City, 9:00 am August 10, 20XX… The sun rose and intruded into the girl’s dormitory of the Silverstone Orphanage for Prodigies. The hard, wood floor reflected the rays brightly upon the dressers and bunks, except for a corner top bunk that remained in the shadows.

    Little Suzan Halden, though not so little now, had slept in that bunk for nine years. It was her little nook inside this large home where she could read and write–she preferred it to any other place. It was private and yet it was amongst the chaos that was the orphanage. Living with nineteen other girls and twenty two boys can be crazy, but Suzan loved it… well most of it.

    Gradually, the sun reached Suzan’s corner; the light warming her eyelids and she immediately became aware of the reds and yellows inside of her skull. It was time to get up and start the day, but Suzan was hanging on to that space between asleep and awake, desperately wanting to stay just a bit longer. But just as the sun had snuck up on her, so had another. She felt it nearing the edge of her bed.

    It was what set Suzan apart, aside from the dark purple hair and eyes. Being a prodigy meant having super abilities, but it also meant learning new ones. Some of the other kids at the orphanage could lift buses. Others could outrun race cars.

    (more…)

  • Best Friends

    You, who know me best

    The jokes we share together.

    We are separate on occasion,

    But you know me best

     

    Why is it we connect?

    Are we twins of different births

    and mothers?

    Could such a thing happen?

    Let alone exist?

     

    We exist,

    That is enough for suggestion.

    Calming effects occur when you’re present

    I can let go of myself, like a vodka and sprite

     

    Spirits rise, with a gift from the spirits

    So ours does with the gift God gave us

    And again we plummet into maddening talk

    Of how the future will be ours when it’s time

     

    We are undefined, you and I

    Yet we know what we mean:

    Sublime Catastrophe!

    That’s what we are.

     

    Devastating Bliss!

    That’s what we provoke.

    Paper covered floatation device!

    We can be just as ridiculous.

     

    Maggot covered corpse!

    We disgust each other just as much.

     

    But in the end,

    It’s been decided.

    I’ve got your back,

    And you’ve got mine.

     

    All of you,

    you know who you are,

    Are very special to me. 

  • ReDemon Chapter 1

    Book 1: Beckham Institute for Prodigies

    Chapter 1: One of Them

    There was a ringing on the rooftop. On the tallest building in Beckham City, Takashi Momotari was standing, looking over the building’s ledge. His cell phone was ringing but he didn’t notice it.

    He was preoccupied with the streets below: people stumbling around, leaning against each other for support as they walked to their cars; red and blue lights turning on and off racing down the city streets; and criminals feeling up strangers in dark, abandoned alleyways. It was home, but not really. There were important pieces missing… He finally heard his phone.

    It was a cold day in December and the wind rustled his long coat around his knees while his long, white hair wrapped around his face. He took a hair tie out of his coat pocket and pulled his hair back revealing his red-lens glasses.

    “Mooshi mooshi,” Takashi answered into his headset, “I’m… unoccupied… 432 and Lincoln? I see. I’ll be there soon.” He hung up the phone and stared down the building. It was like any other building; steel, glass, cement, all working together to stand erect. He stepped up onto the ledge and began to walk down the side towards the alley below.

    (more…)

  • Essence of Madness

    Sitting here, on a severed tree,

    The essence of madness awakes in me.

    I see the door to oblivion,

    And I grab the knob and turn the key.

     

    Beyond the gate, I followed through,

    I saw the faces of those I knew,

    But they are not from the world I came,

    They only exist in my brain.

     

    They sat with me and talked awhile.

    But all we did was vibe and smile.

    Their minds were slack, as if they were rolling.

    And as I listened I felt I was folding.

     

    I talked with two in particular.

    They were more fun and friendlier.

    We shouted loud for those to hear it.

    And ran down the hills with my animal spirit.

     

    I was mad indeed;

    Truly insane.

    Popping pills,

    Feeling no pain.

    Some of them colored,

    Some of them plain.

    How many more

    Will it take to get sane?

     

    Have you ever wondered how far you could go

    That even spirit foxes would choose not to follow?

    Three tails and antlers, large in size;

    Rode on his back till he left my side.

     

    We ran through my mind for hours listening

    To the bass thumping loudly from oblivion.

    But somewhere I lost contact with the fox that I rode,

    And I ended up digging in soil below.

     

    Amusing musings of captured dissidence

    Between those before and those soon after.

    Like falling stars, the images faded

    As if falling closer to where we are.

     

    And as I dug, to keep exploring

    I could not help my mind imploring

    A question that seemed funnier when on Druggy high and lows

    To paraphrase a line of intrigue,

    Do you want to see how far the Fox-hole goes?