Author's note - Any Nabokovians out there may recognise that I've 'borrowed' the title and the three header words below from V.N., with apologies to the great man's shade.
****
Adoration
The one and only, consumes my days and haunts my dreams, never before has anyone been like you, never again will anyone come close. Love you till death, there will never be another.
Sorrow
You don't even know I exist, you could never feel the same. I can never tell the world what you mean to me, they would never understand if I did.
Rainbows
One day, some way, maybe people will understand that even though love comes in different colours, it's still the same love. Then we can hold hands and share the iridian beauty, without fear in our hearts.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Monday, 30 May 2011
Sunday, 29 May 2011
Ecstasy
What....just....happened!
I wish life had a PVR, so I could rewind and replay the last couple of minutes, although, even seeing it a second, or even a third time, I might not believe it.
It had been a very bad day, work had been appalling, one of those 'anything that can go wrong, and even a few things that you thought could never go wrong, had gone wrong' kind of days, exacerbated by a manager whose ineptitude and lack of people skills would have tried the patience of the Dalai Lama, and then I'd been stuck in a seemingly intractable traffic jam on the way home, my usual forty minute journey eventually taking over two hours. When my doorbell rang before I'd even had the chance to get changed, I stomped to answer it planning to chew the head off of whichever double glazing salesman or equivalent had had the audacity to disturb me at a time like this. I wrenched the door open, drew in a breath to launch my tirade....and stopped in my tracks.
"Hi, Andy, I thought I heard your car. Mum said I could come over and see you - if that's OK with you. I need some help with my maths homework. Do you mind?"
Suddenly, all the woes of the day seemed to be washed away. As always, the sight of his face, the sound of his voice, the knowledge of the boyish exuberance just being kept in check, took me to another place, however low a point I was coming from. He wasn't, at 12, traffic-stoppingly gorgeous, wildly intelligent or stunningly talented, just an averagely nice-looking, well-proportioned and reasonably bright kid, but, somehow, the whole package was just totally irresistible to me. When he wasn't around, I had moments of guilt about the way he made me feel, but, in his presence, all of that was forgotten, I just cherished every moment. Every moment with the secret, unrequitable, unutterably wonderful love of my life.
"Yeah, no problem, Luke, come in. You know you're always welcome."
He smiled, and my heart melted all over again. Like it did every time he smiled. I tried to smile in return, but the combination of my rotten day and the knowledge, usually suppressed, but there all the time like a memento mori, that he would never, never feel the same way about me as I did about him, made my effort half-hearted at best. He noticed.
"Look, should I go, Andy, I don't want to be a pain."
"No, really, sunshine, I've just had a rough day, that's all. You're fine."
He looked at me, thoughtfully. There was a slightly awkward silence, a momentary hiatus.
"Andy....I don't like to see you sad. Mum always says....when I'm sad...." He hesitated again.
"What, Luke, what does she say?" I could manage little more than a whisper.
"Do....do you need a hug?"
I tried to answer, but I choked up, my eyes full of tears. All I could do was to slump down on the nearest dining chair and open my arms. He stepped between my parted knees and wrapped me up in a warm, loving but chaste embrace, and I responded in kind. For as long as I live, I'll never forget that moment, in each other's arms, love and caring flowing back and forth between us. Our eyes met, and a tear trickled down my cheek.
"Oh, Luke, thank you. I....love you."
He looked stunned, but just for a moment, before the smile returned, brighter than ever.
"I love you too."
And then I really was crying, but for joy. I'd received a passport straight to ecstasy.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
I wish life had a PVR, so I could rewind and replay the last couple of minutes, although, even seeing it a second, or even a third time, I might not believe it.
It had been a very bad day, work had been appalling, one of those 'anything that can go wrong, and even a few things that you thought could never go wrong, had gone wrong' kind of days, exacerbated by a manager whose ineptitude and lack of people skills would have tried the patience of the Dalai Lama, and then I'd been stuck in a seemingly intractable traffic jam on the way home, my usual forty minute journey eventually taking over two hours. When my doorbell rang before I'd even had the chance to get changed, I stomped to answer it planning to chew the head off of whichever double glazing salesman or equivalent had had the audacity to disturb me at a time like this. I wrenched the door open, drew in a breath to launch my tirade....and stopped in my tracks.
"Hi, Andy, I thought I heard your car. Mum said I could come over and see you - if that's OK with you. I need some help with my maths homework. Do you mind?"
Suddenly, all the woes of the day seemed to be washed away. As always, the sight of his face, the sound of his voice, the knowledge of the boyish exuberance just being kept in check, took me to another place, however low a point I was coming from. He wasn't, at 12, traffic-stoppingly gorgeous, wildly intelligent or stunningly talented, just an averagely nice-looking, well-proportioned and reasonably bright kid, but, somehow, the whole package was just totally irresistible to me. When he wasn't around, I had moments of guilt about the way he made me feel, but, in his presence, all of that was forgotten, I just cherished every moment. Every moment with the secret, unrequitable, unutterably wonderful love of my life.
"Yeah, no problem, Luke, come in. You know you're always welcome."
He smiled, and my heart melted all over again. Like it did every time he smiled. I tried to smile in return, but the combination of my rotten day and the knowledge, usually suppressed, but there all the time like a memento mori, that he would never, never feel the same way about me as I did about him, made my effort half-hearted at best. He noticed.
"Look, should I go, Andy, I don't want to be a pain."
"No, really, sunshine, I've just had a rough day, that's all. You're fine."
He looked at me, thoughtfully. There was a slightly awkward silence, a momentary hiatus.
"Andy....I don't like to see you sad. Mum always says....when I'm sad...." He hesitated again.
"What, Luke, what does she say?" I could manage little more than a whisper.
"Do....do you need a hug?"
I tried to answer, but I choked up, my eyes full of tears. All I could do was to slump down on the nearest dining chair and open my arms. He stepped between my parted knees and wrapped me up in a warm, loving but chaste embrace, and I responded in kind. For as long as I live, I'll never forget that moment, in each other's arms, love and caring flowing back and forth between us. Our eyes met, and a tear trickled down my cheek.
"Oh, Luke, thank you. I....love you."
He looked stunned, but just for a moment, before the smile returned, brighter than ever.
"I love you too."
And then I really was crying, but for joy. I'd received a passport straight to ecstasy.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
Concluding
Dreaming, seeming that all is gleaming, smiles beaming, joy streaming and teeming
A blessing, caressing, expressing, no more need for repressing
Waking, hands shaking, knees quaking, heart aching, no way of faking
This feeling, stare at the ceiling, revealing my soul kneeling, appealing
No sense of achieving, no self-deceiving, a life of grieving, happiness leaving
Sighing, now crying, no more lying, I feel like dying, implying
The end of love
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
A blessing, caressing, expressing, no more need for repressing
Waking, hands shaking, knees quaking, heart aching, no way of faking
This feeling, stare at the ceiling, revealing my soul kneeling, appealing
No sense of achieving, no self-deceiving, a life of grieving, happiness leaving
Sighing, now crying, no more lying, I feel like dying, implying
The end of love
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Saturday, 14 May 2011
Friday, 13 May 2011
Reunion
Author's note - This story contains very strong language. Please don't read if you're likely to be offended.
****
"Hello, Peter. It's been a long time."
Peter had known this moment would come, sooner or later. He hadn't known where or when, but it had been there, with the inevitability of death, and about as welcome, all along. He didn't look in the direction of the voice, that all too familiar voice, looking straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular.
"Mind if I sit down?"
Still mute, Peter shook his head slightly, but shifted to his right as the man sat down on the park bench, as though those few extra inches of personal space would make any difference, he thought bitterly. All he wanted was to be somewhere this man wasn't, the man who had ruined his life, but he knew if he walked away now, it would only postpone the moment when he would have to confront his demons, there was no way he could avoid it for ever.
"We need to talk." You need to talk, you mean, Peter thought, I've got nothing to say to you. "Your mum says you're doing better now, the counselling is helping. I'm glad about that."
Better! You mean I'm not suicidal anymore. That's not because of you, or Mum, or the counselor, or anyone else....except.... Peter gritted his teeth, the last thing he wanted to do was to break down and cry, here, now, sitting beside....him. That would just be a total betrayal.
The man reached out, as though to lay a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder. Peter saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, and shied away, causing the man to withdraw, as abruptly as if he'd been slapped.
"Don't touch me! " Peter spat the words out with as much venom as he could muster.
The man felt a surge of anger, felt like he wanted to take Peter by the scruff of his neck, how dare he speak in that tone of voice, after all I've been through for him. He took a deep breath, fighting to control himself. The man had known this was going to be difficult, very difficult, losing his temper wasn't going to help anyone.
"Alright, calm down. I'm not going to do anything you don't want. Listen, we've got to find a way to work this out, life is going to have to go on, you're still my son...."
Son. That was the word that broke the dam, all the hatred and resentment that Peter had been holding back since....that day, rushed through him like a tsunami, crashed and flooded through his 13 year old soul, sweeping away any inhibition he might have had at saying what he wanted to say to this man who called himself his father.
"Son! Don't call me your fucking son! I fucking hate you, I hope you fucking die, slowly and painfully. You killed him, you cunt, you killed the only person who ever fucking loved me. And the world thinks you're a fucking hero for doing it! Fuck the world, and fuck you!"
"He was a pervert, a paedophile, he...."
"How the fuck would you know what he was? You've got no fucking idea! You never listened before, so I don't suppose there's any fucking chance you'll listen now, but it was me, I was the one that wanted it, I was the one who made it happen, I was the one who molested him, if there was any molesting going on, except that it wasn't like that - it was love, you fucking arsehole, L-O-V-E, I'll spell it for you, because you've got no fucking clue what it is or what it means. You were so fucking jealous that I loved him and not you, so you killed him, and made a pathetic excuse that you were 'protecting' me. You're a waste of a good skin, you fucking prick. Just fucking leave me alone. If I never see you again, it will be a day too soon."
The boy sprang to his feet, and ran, knowing the man would never be able to catch him, but knowing too that however hard he ran, he could never catch up with the past, never catch up with the love he'd lost. He ran until he reached a small, plain headstone, fell breathlessly to his knees, and cried, and cried, and cried.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
****
"Hello, Peter. It's been a long time."
Peter had known this moment would come, sooner or later. He hadn't known where or when, but it had been there, with the inevitability of death, and about as welcome, all along. He didn't look in the direction of the voice, that all too familiar voice, looking straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular.
"Mind if I sit down?"
Still mute, Peter shook his head slightly, but shifted to his right as the man sat down on the park bench, as though those few extra inches of personal space would make any difference, he thought bitterly. All he wanted was to be somewhere this man wasn't, the man who had ruined his life, but he knew if he walked away now, it would only postpone the moment when he would have to confront his demons, there was no way he could avoid it for ever.
"We need to talk." You need to talk, you mean, Peter thought, I've got nothing to say to you. "Your mum says you're doing better now, the counselling is helping. I'm glad about that."
Better! You mean I'm not suicidal anymore. That's not because of you, or Mum, or the counselor, or anyone else....except.... Peter gritted his teeth, the last thing he wanted to do was to break down and cry, here, now, sitting beside....him. That would just be a total betrayal.
The man reached out, as though to lay a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder. Peter saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, and shied away, causing the man to withdraw, as abruptly as if he'd been slapped.
"Don't touch me! " Peter spat the words out with as much venom as he could muster.
The man felt a surge of anger, felt like he wanted to take Peter by the scruff of his neck, how dare he speak in that tone of voice, after all I've been through for him. He took a deep breath, fighting to control himself. The man had known this was going to be difficult, very difficult, losing his temper wasn't going to help anyone.
"Alright, calm down. I'm not going to do anything you don't want. Listen, we've got to find a way to work this out, life is going to have to go on, you're still my son...."
Son. That was the word that broke the dam, all the hatred and resentment that Peter had been holding back since....that day, rushed through him like a tsunami, crashed and flooded through his 13 year old soul, sweeping away any inhibition he might have had at saying what he wanted to say to this man who called himself his father.
"Son! Don't call me your fucking son! I fucking hate you, I hope you fucking die, slowly and painfully. You killed him, you cunt, you killed the only person who ever fucking loved me. And the world thinks you're a fucking hero for doing it! Fuck the world, and fuck you!"
"He was a pervert, a paedophile, he...."
"How the fuck would you know what he was? You've got no fucking idea! You never listened before, so I don't suppose there's any fucking chance you'll listen now, but it was me, I was the one that wanted it, I was the one who made it happen, I was the one who molested him, if there was any molesting going on, except that it wasn't like that - it was love, you fucking arsehole, L-O-V-E, I'll spell it for you, because you've got no fucking clue what it is or what it means. You were so fucking jealous that I loved him and not you, so you killed him, and made a pathetic excuse that you were 'protecting' me. You're a waste of a good skin, you fucking prick. Just fucking leave me alone. If I never see you again, it will be a day too soon."
The boy sprang to his feet, and ran, knowing the man would never be able to catch him, but knowing too that however hard he ran, he could never catch up with the past, never catch up with the love he'd lost. He ran until he reached a small, plain headstone, fell breathlessly to his knees, and cried, and cried, and cried.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Thursday, 12 May 2011
Terror
Footsteps. Coming closer. In the corridor outside. Oh, no, please no! My deepest fear made manifest, I dare not look over my shoulder, even as I hear the ominous sound reach the door, I hope against hope that it will go away, leave me inviolate. But, no! The door handle turns, the wooden barrier between me and my nightmare breaks down, gapes like a ravenous mouth, ready to swallow me whole. Then the sound, above all else, I'd been dreading, the horror I have no means of coping with, drowning me in despair.
"Good morning," my new neighbour said as he walked into the kitchen.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
"Good morning," my new neighbour said as he walked into the kitchen.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Thursday, 5 May 2011
Trapped
Lying in the tall grass, looking up into a cloudless summer sky of eggshell blue, the colour just beginning to fade as afternoon turns to evening. Somewhere nearby, the stridulation of some invisible creature, a grasshopper, maybe, is the only sound to break the silence.
Peace. But it's all momentary, illusory. As soon as I leave this place, the world will come back into focus, reasserting its oppression on my soul, its insistence that who I am, what I want, is irredeemably vile, worthy only of emasculation and death.
Why carry on, the voice in my head whispers. Why, indeed? Only because the life force, the instinct to draw the next breath, is almost unquenchable. Why else would anyone carry on through all this pain and torment? Trapped in a maze with no exit, ever, until the final curtain falls.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Peace. But it's all momentary, illusory. As soon as I leave this place, the world will come back into focus, reasserting its oppression on my soul, its insistence that who I am, what I want, is irredeemably vile, worthy only of emasculation and death.
Why carry on, the voice in my head whispers. Why, indeed? Only because the life force, the instinct to draw the next breath, is almost unquenchable. Why else would anyone carry on through all this pain and torment? Trapped in a maze with no exit, ever, until the final curtain falls.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
Portal
Falling through a portal to another world
Falling through the sapphire blue
Falling into the depths of my soul
Falling to the place where I can be true
Falling though I'm standing still
Falling further than I know how or why
Falling like I always will
Falling into your eyes
****
Thanks to DJ for setting the rusty cogs in motion on this one!
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Falling through the sapphire blue
Falling into the depths of my soul
Falling to the place where I can be true
Falling though I'm standing still
Falling further than I know how or why
Falling like I always will
Falling into your eyes
****
Thanks to DJ for setting the rusty cogs in motion on this one!
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)