i kiss you into
a memory slowly
as you disappear
and fade -
forgotten questions
of why and how
i prefer another
face or kiss or hand
separate you from your
smile and embrace
merely to be with another
then softly ask of love
to come again
and kiss again
and weep again
gaily go clean
she goes
in white stockings
up to her knees
tall and taut
and thin legs
with arms stretched across
like some bird
or white-leg albatross
my girl’s long beak
reaching for some fish
planted a kiss on my cheek
and when i pulled her back to bed
she flew out the window
laughing as she goes
gaily gone clean
i may not love you so
but if i did
would you clutch my heart
stand in silence
utter great emotions
before the window
by the street where you live
and if i should (love you)
would you turn your face away
and send my heart far
in some lost land
and laugh as you watch me
from your window
walking heartless
in the street where you live
i must not love you so
and turn my back
and burdened shoulders
from your clawed hands
away from your window and street
that i may go haplessly
like the fog at the bay
and accept all unhappiness from you
By Tyler Dunn
Revisions by Elliot
Once upon a time, a long time ago, but not as long as you think, there once was a boy and a girl who were like childhood friends but weren’t friends since childhood. In fact, they just recently became friends but it felt like they were friends since they were kids. (Although, the girl seems to have been born a little earlier than the boy or maybe it just felt like so.)
Anyway, they loved playing with each other in ways boys and girls didn’t usually play with each other. Although they wanted to play more but they couldn’t so they just talked and laughed and made fun of each other.
Not a day went by that they didn’t laugh. They may as well have peed on their pants from all the laughing they had done.
But like all fairy tale stories, all great stories wouldn’t be so without a conflict. And the conflict as in most fairy tales involved a witch or a stepmother or a stepsister or some other girl for that matter, but mostly it was a girl. And for this story it was a Frog; albeit a girl frog.
It all started when the boy, who was playing, laughing and talking to the girl, found for his amusement a pretty little frog. And you know that little boys love keeping little frogs around for their entertainment and fun.
This frog with her amusing skipping and funny croaking and moaning noises delighted the little boy with such an exuberance that the little boy was shall we say “afflicted.” Like some viral pox disease where eruptions occurred all over the body, the urge to scratch was so compelling that it was just such sheer pleasure to do so.
To cut the story, short as the reader is getting impatient, the little frog entertained the little boy and such delight he brought the little frog everywhere he went. (Yes, just like Mary and her little lamb.)
And this was the time the little boy and the little girl had to part ways as the little boy and his little frog hopped around the wonderful little planet.
The little boy felt like the little prince roaming the little planet with his little flower. (Yes, like that story you read in grade school.)
So the little boy, now feeling like a little prince, wasn’t quite the same little boy he was when he was with his childhood friend who wasn’t his friend since childhood.
Then, like all fairy tales, one gloomy and rainy night, (it always had to be gloomy and rainy, otherwise there wouldn’t be any reason to stay home,) the little prince had to check his emails and blogs and all those stuffs the little girls was annoy at hearing. The little prince who was once a little boy had to leave to buy some food and other things necessary when one stays inside a room with a flower. His mistake was he forgot to log out.
At this point, like in some point in all the other fairy tales, the little flower who was once a little frog turned into a curious little cat. And as the saying goes with curiosity, it didn’t kill the cat but it just made her mad. Mad at what she was reading. (But it some how killed the romance, at least, for that night.)
So, to cut all the ramblings still shorter as I feel you wont have the patience to read on, the curious little cat who was once a little flower who was once a little frog found through her curiosity and snooping around the various post in the web that the little prince who was once a little boy was still communicating with the little girl who was still a little girl.
The little girl, on the other hand, was anxiously waiting for word from her childhood friend who wasn’t her friend since childhood. By now, she was admitted sad and bored. The little girl had no idea of the changes that had occurred with her little childhood friend who wasn’t her friend since childhood. She, like a patient little girl, although sometimes bratty, had no recourse but to wait.
The curious little cat, who was once a little flower who was once a little frog, after reading through all the communications the little prince had with his childhood friend who wasn’t his friend since childhood, was so enraged by what she was reading. The curious little cat, who by now turned into a raging lioness, growled and howled at the little prince who was cowering at the corner during all this commotion.
By now, as you might have suspected, the little prince who was once a little boy, had turned into a little mouse. And as the story goes, the little mouse who was once a little prince who was once a little boy had to choose between the lioness who was once a little cat who was once a little flower who was once a little frog and the little girl who was still a little girl although not literally.
The little mouse who loved looking at the lioness while she licked and groomed herself, had no recourse but to give up their friendship with his little childhood friend who wasn’t his friend since childhood.
The little girl, was so saddened and disappointed with the sudden loss of communication with her childhood friend who wasn’t her friend since childhood that she had to rant to her friends during one of their gatherings/celebrations.
And as it stands as of now, the little girl who was still a little girl although not literally, and the little boy who turned into a little prince who turned into a little mouse and the little frog who turned into a little flower who turned into a cat and turned into a little lioness – well, they all lived unhappily, or so it seem, ever after.
– Not yet the End –
So the story continues….
The little girl continued to rant to her friends until dawn the next morning. Fortunately, the sun didn’t rise because the weather was quite gloomy, which suited her mood just fine. She still didn’t know what to think or do. Her friends kept telling her “Just forget about the little boy. He’s an ass. And he knows it.” But the little girl just couldn’t. She’s had enough questions in her mind.
After a few weeks, the little girl got really mad that she got up the courage to reach out to the little boy she knew one last time (supposedly). The little girl wrote whatever came to her mind, halfway crying because she just can’t take it anymore (the little boy knows she’s kind of a crybaby when she’s mad). The little girl knows the little boy quite well and thought, the little boy knew the little girl a bit too. After sending the message, the little girl felt better but knows that it’s just the tip of the iceberg. And the little girl was right.
The little mouse, who was the little prince, who was the little boy the little girl knew, replied with a story that made the little girl cry even more. More questions came to the little girls’ mind like “why does the little boy have to choose?”. The little girl knew that the little mouse, who was the little prince, who was the little boy she knew isn’t the type of boy who can be pushed around, and hates it when he’s told what to do. The little boy she knew does what he wants, when he wants it.
Then the little girl reread the story. Is this lioness THE ONE? The one he wants to spend the rest of his life with? If so, then why is the little mouse, who was the little prince, who is the little boy the little girl knew unhappy? The little girl paced around her room, thinking should she still deal with this? Talk to the little boy she knew who’s the most arrogant boy she’s ever met? The little boy that made her cry three times? Who is this little girl to the little boy’s life? Should she just finish this story now before she gets hurt even more? Maybe… Maybe not…
And another one came to her mind. Why is the little boy telling the little girl that he’s unhappy? He made a choice. A clear choice. He should be happy with that choice shouldn’t he? Is he really unhappy?
Then it came to her that maybe, the little mouse who was the little prince, who is the little boy she knew, should come out of his hiding place and be an eagle. The little girl knows that when the little boy’s getting too comfy, or getting choked up, he flies away. Far away. Like what he always does. Or maybe, he should grow up and be a MAN, the little girl thought. A real lion tamer who can stand up for himself. And decide for himself.
The little girl wonders again, is this the kind of fairytale that ends up differently? That will be weird. But then again, there’s always a first time for everything.
“So does this mean this is over?” the little girl thought. She then became a lady (yes, a lady because she matured a little bit, but still bratty at times; I would say woman but I know the reader would object), and said “Should this be over? Maybe it should be… But it isn’t… Not by a long shot…”
n Not yet the End –
And the story goes on…
The little mouse, who was once a little prince who was once a little boy knew what he had become and admittedly as the saying goes, “You may paint an Ass with stripes in black and white but he’s still an ASS.” (or something to that effect). At this point of the story, The little mouse who was once a prince who was once a little boy (who the little girl wanted to be an eagle or a MAN) had to really show what he is – a plain and simple little ass. For as the Ass wanted to be an eagle, he doesn’t want to be one because the little ass loves to hear himself bray and eagles we all know do not bray. And as for being a man, the ass remember a story he had once upon a time:
The Ass Carrying the Image
The Little ASS once carried through the streets of a city a famous wooden Image, to be placed in one of its Temples. As he passed along, a crowd of women made lowly prostration before the Image. The Little Ass, thinking that they bowed their heads in token of respect for himself, bristled up with pride, gave himself airs, and refused to move another step. The driver, seeing him thus stop, laid his whip lustily about his shoulders and said, “O you perverse dull-head! it is not yet come to this, that women pay worship to an Ass.”
And so it appears that the little Ass who thinks highly of himself just needs a little whipping. For as the little Ass, who thinks highly of himself, cannot be what he is not – be it an eagle or a man or any highly evolved creature for that matter. For the little Ass is an Ass is an Ass. The little girl’s friends, who think she is a woman, know it, the little Ass occasionally knows it but at times tries to hide it, but the little girl just doesn’t want to think her once little boy, who was like a childhood friend of hers, though they were not friends since childhood, is in fact an ASS.
Then, like all other stories or fables or any short narrative, the Ass remembered this story (the little Ass is introspective, that’s why he remembers a lot of little stories), a story which always seem to repeat itself with all the other owners he had:
THE ASS AND Its OWNWER
The ASS, being driven along a high road, suddenly started off and bolted maybe because of fear of being too controlled or having been with one owner too long, to the brink of a deep precipice. While he was in the act of throwing himself over, his owner seized him by the tail, endeavoring to pull him back. When the Ass persisted in his effort, the woman let him go and said, “Conquer, but conquer to your cost.”
The moral, if there is one, is: A willful beast must go his own way. An the little girl who endeavors to become a little woman must remember this story and follow the advice of her friends, who knew the little boy is an Ass when they first talked to him.
- This may be the End –
EPILOGUE
A TRAVELER, a pretty one I might say, hired an Ass to convey her to a distant place. The day being intensely hot, and the sun shining in its strength, the pretty Traveler stopped to rest, and sought shelter from the heat under the Shadow of the little Ass. As this afforded only protection for one,
and as the pretty Traveler and the supposed owner of the Ass both claimed it, a violent dispute arose between them as to which of them had the right to the Shadow. The supposed owner maintained that she had let the Ass only, and not his Shadow. The pretty little Traveler asserted that she had, with the hire of the Ass, hired his Shadow also. The quarrel proceeded from words to blows, and while the women fought, the Ass galloped off.
