Savior

SAVIOR

Man of Steel
why won’t you come down from
your perch high above Metropolis
save me
I have desperately tried to fly in your cape
but you left me no field guide and
in this world I need to be more than just
a hero
Do you remember when
I gazed upon you with wonder
an unflinching conviction that you were no
mere man
Please can’t you see
how hard I struggle to soar and
I’ve no currents with which to take flight—
a cry
And from my booth I dash
carrying this child in my arms
shielding her from life’s evils, forever
her guardian
imperfect savior;
to the skies I search in vain
bemoaning mine.

 

© Copyright 2014 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

Wings

I had the opportunity to chaperone my daughter’s kindergarten class trip last week.

We visited World of Wings, a great facility featuring a butterfly atrium, rooms filled with creepy-crawly bugs and slithering reptiles (inside their holding tanks, of course), and a whole host of other fun exhibits.  But the single attraction that stole the show by unanimous kid-vote was the bouncy house!! Butterflies flitting above their heads and Horned Bearded Dragons be darned, nothing could compare to the awesome allure of that bouncy house…

Naturally, I loved every minute of it. I loved being part of my daughter’s day, watching her interact with her young friends, seeing the sheer joy of discovery and rampaging fun on her face. I loved listening to her laugh; I loved seeing the curiosity that filled her innocent eyes. And yes, I loved watching her run amok with a whole horde of crazed, gleeful kids inside the irresistible bouncy house.

Just like those magnificent butterflies, my daughter spreads her wings a bit more every day. For someone who conjures and writes tales of the gruesome and horrible all of the time, it’s simply the most beautiful of wonders to see.

2014-03-13 10.32.26

Refuge

handle

Refuge; before these iron gates I tremble. Words, long forgotten, muttered upon this unforgiving draft. Weary fingers graze lips; memory languishes. A song cries. Lost, what once remained. Balm to my wounds, these iron gates I clutch. To twist this handle, to enter into that which I have denied myself… A thousand angels mock my arrogance; their light I have shunned. Tell me godless thing, who haunts your starless nights? My thousand lies expired at last; hollow, barren, crumbled within. Shadows beckon; so soon shall I dance. Refuge beyond these iron gates; blackened tomb. Condemned both by heaven and hell.

(first appeared in Damned Words http://wp.me/p2iKoL-qy)

© Copyright 2013 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

Just Not Here

I mentioned in last week’s post that the idea behind my short story LUNCH came from a poem I had written back in December 2012. For curiosity’s sake, here it is:

JUST NOT HERE

On this darkened night I hold you
Arms empty. Your memory my solitary light
Wind raps at pane, sneaks under door
The only thing ever to cross this threshold again
Sandwich on counter grows old with mold
Milk sour. Spoiled.
None of it matters; this candle flickers
And ghosts, they creep along the floor
Sounding so much the way your footfalls once did
When you’d kiss my cheek standing in the hall.
I’d walk somewhere if it wasn’t raining so hard
These clothes already stuck to skin
The weight of everything
The wait for anything…
I’ll sit here then
Because somewhere, you are there
Somewhere. Just not here.
On this darkened night I hold you
Somewhere. Just not here.

© Copyright 2012 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

Boy on Strings

My last January breath rose in a plume to the sky
and left me wondering if this would be how
my soul would one day escape me,

wispy vapored , twanged by fingers of Northeast wind;
I suppose I will always be a puppet but the excuse
of ‘oh, it will be much warmer tomorrow’ keeps me from cutting

the fishing line. I love the dangling, but if you should ask me I
will vehemently deny it, blow frozen curses into your
face – then request for you to reposition me. Please.

A light snow falls; February knocks and soon all trace
of my existence will vanish from the air. Still, I will
always dangle here, waiting for your hand to guide me.

© Copyright 2014 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

In Peace

I said a prayer in the moments before I saw you that

my composure would be steel and yet your

utter silence broke me down in ways I never expected.

 

Forgive me, I faltered when taking your still hand into mine and

realizing your sleep would be an endless one,

began to pity myself.  And in your dignified manner, you stilled me,

 

imparted sweet memories; you allowed me a time I thought had

long past and selfish as it may be, I am grateful for holding you

one last time.

 

I want you to know that behind your closed eyes, I still saw

you as you should be and as you will always be

to me: smiling

 

You were such a gentleman in every sense of the word.

 

Dear friend, I hope you heard me when I whispered

that I would not say farewell.  I kissed your cheek

and I meant it.  There are no goodbyes; there are only see you later’s.

 

So sleep in peace, and within your warm cocoon

learn of your new wings now.  Fashion your Heaven as

it should be

 

As one day, I will mine.

 

We will have a party then for the ages,

won’t we?  Be with love and light, dear

friend.  I’ll meet you then at the bar come nine.

~ for Rich

© Copyright 2014 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

Greater Than Anything

Greater than anything I could achieve as a writer, my daughter scored 7 out of 10 ‘red words’ correctly on her kindergarten test.

At, my, are, with, me, come, what, you, my, can.  Those words are just some of the ‘red words’ she has been learning; the building blocks of language.  The keys to reading.  Since entering kindergarten this year, the going has been tough.  She’s struggled; she’s despaired.  But day after day, she has gone to school with a bright smile and an unspoken grace.  Day after day, she has sat to do homework, to grind through the task at hand.  Yet no matter the difficulty, she has done so with a willingness and determination that few adults exhibit.

As her teacher quizzed the class on the list of ‘red words,’ my daughter listened to the word as it was spoken and then wrote it down, letter by letter; not once but twice.  This from a little girl who has gone through extensive occupational, speech and physical therapies.  This from a little girl who has gone through it all with that same bright smile and unparalleled grace.  This from a little girl who has made slow but steady progress every day.

She worked hard preparing for the test.  “Try your best, and don’t worry about getting the answers wrong,” I told her.  Which is difficult to explain to a child when the world around us demands that we constantly achieve.

The afternoon of her test, her teacher gave me a thumbs-up when I picked her up from school.  “She did great!” she told me, but I barely heard her – the smile lighting my daughter’s face said it all.  Once home, she hurriedly took the test from her backpack.  She glowed as she pointed to the glittering star sticker atop it.  “I did it!”

Yes you did, my little girl.

Anything in this world is attainable, no matter how big or small.  And you don’t need to get everything right; you just need to give it your best.

‘LULLABY’ on Pen of the Damned

A belated happy 2014!  I certainly hope this new year will be healthy and positive for you all!

I’ve never been one for resolutions because a particular day on the calendar dictates I should do so.  I believe that every day is a resolution; every moment.  Trust me, it’s a difficult way to think.  There’s so much in our lives to get caught up in.  But January 1st shouldn’t be the only time to change our way of thinking, the manner in which we treat people, or the long awaited pursuit of one’s dream.  Like I said, try to create a resolution every day.  Big or small – do it, be it, live it.  :)

So enough with my chatter!

Pen of the Damned

2013 was a good year for Pen of the Damned.  We’ve created some amazing fiction, and we’ve gained some wonderful and supportive ‘Damnlings.’  That’s why we do it, after all.  When you’re a creative mind – whether it be a writer, musician, photographer, what have you – your art form needs to be expressed and shared.  A creative mind will starve if kept bottled up.  So at least where Pen of the Damned has been concerned, it’s been an extremely positive experience.  And we believe it will only get better in 2014.  We have some great things planned, so stay tuned!

Following with what I have done in past posts here on my blog (and something I am dreadfully behind on), I’d like to introduce (or reintroduce) you to ‘LULLABY‘ which originally appeared on Pen of the Damned back in October 2013.

It was such a fun story to write.  What I loved most of all was that as it evolved from my head, I realized that ‘LULLABY’ could be and should be part of something much larger.  It’s the tale of a woman who finds herself captive in the middle of the woods along with a group of younger girls.  Who…or what…is behind this?  Hmm, good question.  Don’t you appreciate monster stories that just simply ‘are,’ without all the endless, cloying explanation?  I certainly do, and I think that’s why “LULLABY‘ is so appealing.

Take a read (or a reread) won’t you?  ‘LULLABY,’ only on Pen of the Damned.

Yesterday’s Fable

Yesterday’s Fable
Was it just yesterday you told me your time had come?
Under a cloudless sky
Nothing but myth and unspoken promise between us
It was an alabaster lie
I realize as much now
But I was so blind to my own beliefs
That I forgot to realize
My faith belongs
Only to borrowed time.
It still hangs in the air
Of that cloudless sky
So fleeting when spoken
So final when reminisced
I might not be here tomorrow
I might not see you at all
I laughed; not at you, of course
But at your absurdity
Something I steadfastly refused to own
But with today’s cloudless sky born new
And yesterday’s fable yet grown old
I realize how shabby these beliefs are in my own pocket
And you’ve forced me to throw them all away.

© Copyright 2013 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

Coffin Hop 2013: Day 6 Giveaway: ‘Nothing Else’

Welcome to Coffin Hop 2013!

While racking my brain trying to decide what to do for Coffin Hop this year, I decided – what the hell, I may as well give away three prizes. Besides the prose I offer below, I’m going to pick three winners from those who comment on this post and offer each an e-copy of an anthology I was recently published in. Three lucky winners, three great books, one new home for each anthology. I’ll be picking who gets what, so if by chance you have already won one of these from me, just speak up and an exchange will be made.

anthologies

Even horror authors have a heart, albeit blackened.  The following is a quick song I crafted some time ago after exploring a cemetery.  Must have been the spirits that whispered to me…

Nothing Else

Gazing out your window

Your cemetery of hope haunts your moments

Ghosts beneath your lids once your dreams

Tonight will be a long one

When you can’t reach pass your means.

But I’m the rain streaks your pane

I’m the soft breeze stirs your curtains

I’m the lone star in your dark sky

When nothing else remains.

Just outside your window

Your cemetery of life steals your darkness

Ghosts beneath your lids once your dreams

And tonight will be a long one

When you can’t breathe pass your means.

But I’m the bird sings your song

I’m the soft kiss on your full lips

I’m the one ghost never have left you

When nothing else remains.

Oh I’m the rain streaks your pane

I’m the soft breeze stirs your curtains

I’m the lone star in your dark sky

When nothing else remains.

Yeah tonight will be a long one

But I’m the one thing to count on

When nothing else remains.

© Copyright 2013 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.