Monthly Archives: April 2013

Epiphany on a Rainy Night

I stayed late beyond the witching hour

To watch the maiden Dance across the sky.

Nervous, behind the clouds she stepped,

Then fierce before them.

She moved as lightning,

Streaks across the sky,

Her hair in her wake.

Her consort moved in time,

The wind through her leafy skirts.

His great horns, branches

Bent against her shape.

In the shadows of the trees,

From my window high,

I caught a glimpse.

And then a flash,

Brighter than all others.

I closed my eyes and saw

My soul a hawk did rise,

And rest upon his shoulder.

Then came the Mother.

Her song booming in the air.

Chiding me, consoling me.

As I stood upon his shoulder,

She beckoned me louder.

Aged maiden, closer held me.

I heard her voice clear.

Keep hope.

You are loved,

Child of the Earth.

Faeries sing your name.

Peace, still

Love all things.

She preened my feather sweetly.

Drowsy, to my body,

The Crone did help me fly.

Her wisdom washed the city,

Cleansed the sky.

Hope, peace, dream.

I captured her words

In to a glass as they

Fell in to my eyes,

Lulling me to dream,

My body in the sky.

A forest great, always full.

Brothers, sisters, mirthfully

We glide on air to

Summerland.

And there.

A nymph upon a rock,

A lute he strummed.

I woke, him gone,

But my chalice full.

Hope. Peace, Dream.

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Filed under Poetry

Rain Goddess

I saw her on a rainy street corner,

Her hair limp with water

That may have been her tears.

Her eyes were a cumulonimbus cloud,

Wild and fast as a storm.

Hers was a feral beauty,

Blinding as a lightning strike.

She spoke with a voice that

Boomed like thunder and said

“Keep your chin bent high,

Your eyes wide open and your

Heart held tight at your side.”

I was overwhelmed by those

Rain tinted eyes.

She smiled and

It was as if the sun

Peaked out through her lips.

“It’s beautiful”

Her voice grew far
The storm rolling away,

“A heart like the sky.

Cold, high and a beauty

Unrivaled, never unraveled….”

And then she melted away,

Down a leaf-covered storm drain,

And the clouds again sighed

“Child, be as the sky.”

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71. Scars

 Every scar was a ridge of mountains or roaring rapid along the knight commander’s body, a map of his long career of service to his kingdom. The oldest of them was faded away, hardly visible under the coarse hair on his left arm. With a closer look, there was the silver, winding river of a parry gone bad as a Page. It was the first time he’d ever seen his own blood, happening even before the first callouses broke on his fingers.

The ones he was most proud of were the large, angry looking marks on his chest. There had been a fire on a diplomatic mission to a southern kingdom. Nothing intentional, likely just some idiot putting their candle too close to their windowsill and caught a drape on fire. He’d pulled the young princess from her room, and went back in for a yapping little dog she pleaded for him to save. The damn thing jumped out the window just before the scorching hot metal bar that held up the curtains fell on his chest. The burn had him in the medical wing of that backwater kingdom for almost a month. He never looked at charred meat the same way again. But, from left pectoral to right hip, the scar lingered even still, five years after the fact.

On the other side of his chest was the one he was most proud of. It was small compared to all of the others, only about two inches long, as thin as a blade. It was between his ribs on the right side, something you had to search very hard for, and few people got close enough to do so. And the man that got close enough to inflict the wound was an even rarer occurrence.

*~*~*

It was just two years ago, at some overly fussy ball to celebrate the birth date of the founding King. It was fitting that it had only been a week since his charge, the youngest prince of the Kingdom, ascended to the throne.  His brother was a madman deemed unfit for the position, and had not been too happy about the decision. But, the Knight Commander, newly made then, stood proudly beside his king, one hand on his sword and the other on the back of the throne. All night long people had been coming to pledge their allegiance to their new ruler. There was all the bowing, kissing rings, Lords from distant towns bringing gifts of grain or gold; the kind of things that the children’s stories would have skipped over.

He did not recognize the last in the long line of men and women as he stepped up to the dais, because the man wore a dark cloak, hiding his face. He had ignored the order to remove the hood in front of the King, and so the Knight Commander stepped forward. No one saw the blade that slipped from under the long sleeve of the cloak. It wasn’t until the man was fleeing from the ballroom that anyone noticed the tear in his leather armor and the blood pooling on the marble floor.

The bump on his head from when he had fallen backwards hurt more than the blade sinking into his skin. The medics told him that it had severed a major artery, and he was fortunate to be alive. He wouldn’t consider himself fortunate until the would-be assassin was in the ground.

*~*~*

And two years later, the man was still on the run. Which brought him back to the bed, and the newest in his collection of scars. This one, though, was from something much less…Lethal. The young King was wrapping up his finger, which he had managed to slice open with a small knife as he peeled a fruit.

“How did such a klutz like you become my Commander?” the King was clearly teasing, the candle lights sparkling in his dark eyes.

“My dashing good looks and charm?”

“Something like that.” The King pressed his lips to the covering he’d applied, eyes falling on the thin mark on the man’s ribs. “I never did thank you for that day…”

“Well then, perhaps you should start.” The knight tucked his fingers under the King’s chin, pulling his face upwards.

“Perhaps I should.”

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Filed under Flash Fiction

32. Temptation

The outbound subway cars were all practically empty at three in the morning. A couple sat alone in one of them, and only one of the two of them was still awake. He watched the lights of the city fade away with his cheek pressed to the window a sleepy, lopsided green on his face. When he heard a soft sigh, he tore his eyes away from the window and glanced back down at his lover. He watched as they forced their breathing to settle back into an even rhythm. The moment he had felt the weight of their head resettle on his lap, he wrapped an arm tightly around the flat stomach, so he could hold them on the seat should there be a sudden stop.

His lover’s delicately featured face was tipped toward the ceiling of the car, illuminated freckled skin. The blond curls that sprawled out from their head formed a crinkled halo four or five inches in every direction. The way the harsh light curled into every bend made every strand seem to glow.

He did not need an apple to be vexed with temptation. His lover’s thick hair with all of its coils did that better than any kind of fruit. He swallowed audibly, inching his free hand towards the golden crown. It would not be good to wake them, so he would have to move very carefully.

His fingers twitched as they hovered above the glowing ring of gold. Just as he closed his fingers around the tips of the strands, his lover turned onto their side instead. Their face was pressed toward his abdomen, pointy nose digging in to it. He swallowed the laugh that bubbled up as the warm breath tickled through the fabric of his shirt. He finally tucked his fingers into the silken strands and closed his eyes.

For a moment, he was brought back to the club they had stumbled out of an hour before. He could see behind his eyelids the lithe body rock to some screaming dance mix. He watched the way sweat trailed down their neck, pooling in the hollow of that thin throat before finally soaking the collar of a too tight t-shirt. He could see the sweat flying off of those golden locks, diamonds with the way the flashing lights caught the droplets. That crooked little smile when those nimble fingers traced lazy circles down a flat chest, resting on those square hips made him salivate. Bright blue eyes that seemed to scream-

The sudden stopping of the train slammed him back in to the present, and in turn to the groaning little present on his lap. His lover slowly raised their head, using one hand to bat the one out of his hair.

“No.” the sweet voice was thick with sleep as it made contact with the male’s flesh. “We at our stop yet?”

“Not yet.” He soothed, gently pushing the head back down, so they could easily look at one another. “I’ll wake you when we get there.”

As they settled once more, he reached out again, but was thwarted as his love reached up and took the hand in theirs instead, twining their fingers together.

“Love you, Carrick.”

“Mmmhm… Love you too, Greg.”

Carrick leaned down, pressing their lips together until the next bump in the tracks hit their foreheads together. So instead, he kissed the bump on his lover’s forehead and smiled. He stared down into those bright blue eyes that screamed-

“Now stop trying to touch my hair. Weirdo.”

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Filed under Flash Fiction

An Introduction

At the recommendation of a teacher, I’ve decided to get off my butt and start a blog for the writing that I do. You know, sharing is caring, exposure is good…You’re on the internet all day anyway, who are you kidding.

They might not have said that last one, but I’m sure they were thinking it. At any rate, I’m going to do my darnedest to update here every so often with things I’m working on/am not ashamed to let see the light of day! So, here’s a little bit about yours truly:

  1. I’m a lady…Or at the very least, female
  2. I love Dogs, but cats can be okay
  3. I majored in theatre (the acting part, not the technical one)
  4. Comic books and video games occupy more of my life than is socially acceptable

Oh and the title for this blog is a shamelessly stolen song lyric, from what may be my favorite musical about an inventor: Gutenberg! The Musical. The whole lyric is as follows

“Words are like wine from a better grape.”

Yeah. For a silly little piece of theater, I think it had some good ideas. So tune in boys and girls for some words!

~KC Forsh

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