Sean, James and Drew came forth from the woods that glorious day;
to speak with full purpose of heart, simple words of wisdom;
if you have nothing to say, don’t say anything at all.

© November 3, 2009 CRF

So, amazingly I was able to complete the blogophilia challenge in the form of a Sijo. Feel free to check out the other fine bloggers.

         Walking up the steps, I could see Heat Lightning flashing off in the distance. I wondered if it was an ominous harbinger of the days to come. Reaching the doorway, I glanced around. Already the vultures in the News industry were jockeying for position. They sensed a juicy story. Sadly, I feared they might be right, though not in the way they anticipated.

          To them, this was a lurid tale of illicit love tragically ended in a murder/suicide. I already had my doubts though. Something just didn’t feel right about this. Entering through the door, I followed the sounds of voices to an upstairs bedroom. Nodding to the officer standing watch, I glanced in to see several CSI agents examining the scene. The lead investigator was in a heated discussion with the Chief of Police. Already I could sense a desire to quickly close the case without digging too deep.

          Setting aside the arguing for a minute, I glanced around the room, careful not to contaminate any of the evidence. I could see one body lying in a pool of blood on the bed. The second one was dangling from a rope that was strung in such a way that when the door was closed, the body hung up near the ceiling.

That was how the room was discovered, with the door closed. That was the first thing that clued me into this not being a suicide. From what I heard, there was evidence of the rope jerking the victim up as he was hung. I could see no way that the deceased could have closed the door while already having the rope tied to himself. How then could the rope have jerked tight?

As I stood there, the Chief angrily strode out of the room screaming: “You better close this case quick. It is an election year. I’m telling you, there was only one murder. The killer is dead too. That is all the public needs to know. They don’t need to be worrying about a deranged killer roaming the streets.”

I glanced at the investigator and shrugged. There really wasn’t anything else I could learn from the scene until they processed it for evidence, so I turned to follow the Chief. He must have really been moving. By the time I turned around he was already gone. I ran down the stairs to the door, only to see him talking to the press. Apparently he was so sure of his conclusions, he was already telling them it was a murder/suicide. I could just see the headlines now: Halloween kills Easter, then self. It appeared that Jack O’Lantern was having an affair with the Easter Bunny. The press always loved a juicy scandal, and this would be no different. I could envision them hounding both spouses, asking them for details on what really went on between the two.

To them it would be no surprise here that such a passionate relationship ended in death. Honestly, in my experience I wasn’t surprised either. However, I still believed they both had been killed. Someone found out about their affair and went crazy. This was clearly a crime of passion.

As I continued to watch the Chief give his statement, the lead investigator stepped up to me. “Have a little faith in my abilities detective. I will prove this was a double murder. It will be up to you to find the killer though.”

“So, I was right. He didn’t hang himself.”

“No. With the length of the rope, and the fact he was still dangling from the ground even with the door open, I would say there was no way he hung himself.”

“Fine. Continue gathering evidence. I’m going to visit the spouses. I’ll try and find out where they have been.”

Quickly I ran to my car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I inserted the key into the ignition and started the engine. The radio was still on, so I could here the morning DJ. “The Last Song you heard was Dead Man’s Party, by Oingo Boingo.” I chuckled to myself as I realized how apropos that song was right now. Putting the car in drive, I headed out to do my job, regardless of what the Chief was saying to the press. I knew there was still a killer on the loose.

The Masquerade Ball

Twilight falls across the castle towers
as haunting tunes filter through autumn air;
guests arriving now, solo and in pairs
in celebration they’ll dance for hours.
Amidst the décor of silken flowers
mask covered faces, with secretive stares
reveal inner fantasies, on a dare;
with such disguise, there’s no need to cower.

Bodies intertwine as the music flows
just who is who, can any of us know.
Dancing away to the sweet Fandango
with you in my arms, I will never go.
All the world’s a stage, and we’re the show
behind the mask, you see, true love doth glow.

© October 25, 2009 CRF

It's time for the Masquerade Ball at the Harmony Pub. We would love it if you could stop by to help celebrate the 2 year Anniversary of the Pub as well as an early Halloween party. If you wish, come dressed as your favorite TV or movie character, or a historical person or even a monster. Just stop on by.

On a Cold Autumn Night

Night falls, and a chill enters the air
as demons and witches wander about
children in costumes frolic with nary a care
it’s Halloween night, without a doubt

As demons and witches wander about
the moon shines down, lighting the way
it’s Halloween night, without a doubt
screams of Trick or Treat, I heard them say.

The moon shines down, lighting the way
on this cold yet joyous autumn night
screams of Trick or Treat, I heard them say
give us candy, or we’ll give you a fright.

On this cold yet joyous autumn night
children in costumes frolic with nary a care
give us candy, or we’ll give you a fright
night falls, and a chill enters the air.

© October 22, 2009 CRF

On Sunday at the Sunday Wordplay Workshop we are going to be hosting a Masquerade Ball. This is a combination blog. Not only are we celebrating Halloween, but it is also the two-year anniversary week for the Harmony Pub. All of you are cordially invited to join us.

We would love it if you dressed up your avatar in a costume. You can choose a monster, a fairy creature, a historical figure or even your favorite movie/TV character. At the same time it would be great if you changed your screen name for the day to reflect your character. We will be having a contest to see who can guess who each guest is. One stipulation that we will insist on is that no one cheats. Please don't check each other's page to try and figure out who they are.

Lissa, Missy, JB and I will also come in character, though we will leave our screen names so that you will know who the hosts are. Let's have a fun time celebrating these two events this Sunday.

For those of you who want to prepare a write for the event, the theme will be Masks and Illusions. Though we are still focusing on the sonnet, any form of write would be welcomed.

Hush now Dahlia

Hush now Dahlia, don’t challenge me
I am on the run always writing free.

It started Bach with the etheree
you threw the gauntlet down like Luchesi.

With those words a fire bloomed inside
and from my muse I had nowhere to hide.

Writing words down from deep within
I took poetry to a land of sin.

Then you returned with a wicked smile
Sestina challenge, it took me a while.

Next came the ever present Villanelle
writing it, I thought I had gone to hell.

Why is it me you always challenge
waking feelings inside me of revenge.

Hush now Dahlia, please be quiet
and say that all challenges have been met.

©October 20, 2009 CRF

This was written for Blogophilia.  If you enjoyed, please check out all the other fine writers. I also wrote this in response to Dahlia's latest blog in which she challenged me to write a Pantoum. I have still been able to withstand the challenge to this point. This should be sung in the same lilting way that the Lullabye "Hush Little Baby" is sung.The classical Composers that I mentioned are Andrea Luchesi and Johann Christian Bach (though Bach might be read as a Typo). 

Secret bonus guess: Hanging by a thread.

In Broken Shards

As agitation grows inside of me
I contemplate this face that’s staring back
with pensive eyes, a soul they seem to lack.
Dark pools swallow me; evil all I see
seeking a release, it tries to break free.
In fright I strike, the mirror begins to crack
slip-shod undulations, from my attack
spider-web ‘cross the face, and so I grieve.

In destruction, healing I envision
and evil vanishes, from broken shards.
I surmise the true meaning…of my life
spoken now, in heart-felt declaration:
meditate not! upon that which is hard
with precision, good always conquers strife.

© October 18, 2009 CRF

We are continuing with the sonnet at the Sunday Wordplay Workshop at the Harmony Pub. The topic is Reflections in the Mirror. We would love to see all of you there. The Ten underlined words are the challenge words for the 3 in 10 challenge.

One Last Chance at Romance

          Dora sat quietly staring at her computer screen. Could she really go through with this? All the other dating sites had turned out horrible. Every guy she got matched with only seemed to want to add her to their list of conquests. Well, she supposed part of it was her fault. After all, she always put her full name down when signing up. Somehow, once a guy saw the name Nymphadora S.U. Cubus, they automatically thought of sex. Damn her parents for saddling her with such a name.

          As she took a sip of coffee, she began to reminisce about all the times that name had haunted her. During school, all the other children mercilessly teased her. They would chant that she was a nympho. Every boy seemed to think she would just give it up to them. They didn’t even try to woo her. They just said, “Hey, Nympho, do you wanna do it?” God, it was enough to turn her off of guys for good. Unfortunately, the girls were worse. They always accused her of trying to steal their boyfriends.

          From an early age, she always introduced herself as Dora, but all of her teachers would take attendance the first day. None of them seemed to understand the torment she was going through. They would just yell out, “Is Nymphadora here?”

Later on, she would start to use her middle name. Sheila was more acceptable in her book. Still, it would never fail. She would see someone she knew from childhood, and they would call her that awful name, or worse, the nickname. Then she would be forced to explain to everyone around her what they were talking about.

She even tried to legally have her name changed. Some dick from high school, whom she didn’t even remember, had contacted the court and objected to the change. That was enough for the courts to deny her request. So, she was stuck with the name.

So, now she sat with a cup of coffee in her hand, and her Chihuahua Taco, sitting in her lap. She was staring at the web site that her friend Luna told her about yesterday while they had breakfast at Tiffany’s house. Tiffany and Luna were the only true friends she had. They always called her either Dora or Sheila. They seemed to understand what she was going through. Every week one of the three would host the other two for breakfast. They would gossip about everything that had gone on the previous week. They would talk about their dates, work, TV shows. Heck, anything that happened, the others would hear about it. Dora never worried that they would tease her. She trusted them completely.

After hearing about another of Dora’s failed dates, Luna said she was going about it all wrong. She should try this new dating site, called Going For Broke Dating. They had a simple sign up page. It didn’t even ask for last names. All she had to do was put in a first name and a brief description of herself, as well as what she was looking for in a partner. Luna swore that they had a 100% success rate.

This morning, when she woke up, Dora told herself to just do it. Sign up and wish for the best. Now she was having second thoughts though. She had filled out the form, making sure to only type in Dora where it asked for a name. Now, all she had to do was hit the submit button. Then she really would be going for broke in finding a partner. She took one final sip of her coffee and, with a tremulous hand, reached out and moved her mouse to the submit button. Taking a deep breath, she clicked.

This was written for blogophilia.  Feel free to check out all of the other fabulous posts over there. If you feel inclined, you are more than welcome to join in on the fun.

Madness of Desire

Rich man
wanders the boardrooms
seeking more and more
to control, with his money
to own all that the world
has to offer. Wealth rules
his desires, yet enslaves him
at the same time.

Poor man
roams the chatrooms
seeking a connection,
a way out of his life
where he can be free
and live, any life he desires.
He’ll know what it’s like
to live another man’s life
if only for a while…
if only in his dreams.

Beggar man
staggers along the streets
calling out for help
from those who pass him by.
Can you spare a dime?
Do you have the time?
to think of someone
other than yourself?
while all the while
he does nothing
to step out of those
same decrepit streets.

Thief!
slinks through the night
taking what he wants
no matter the cost
no matter the victim.
If it’s there, it’s his
or so he thinks
as he palms another trinket
just to feel it in his hand.

They all go about their lives
day by day, without thought
as I sit and watch,
lugubrious tears streaming
down my face.
They all want what they don’t have
yet never realize, just how much
they truly have. They ignore
all the good in their lives
and focus on the pain.
I look at them, and then at me,
I wonder who it is
that’s truly insane?

© October 5, 2009 CRF

This was written for blogophilia. Feel free to check out the others and join in if you wish.