My Ears Are Bleeding (poem)

2015 - while at UCF  🎓 😄

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I love taking Creative Writing because my professors force me to write things! Yay! 

So, I was instructed to write an epistolary poem in the form of an apology and this is what happened. Enjoy.

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My Ears Are Bleeding

I'm sorry but the entire

time we were on the phone

I was making faces at you

Luckily for me, you had not heard

of FaceTime or it would have surely

been awkward

You see, you just talk too much

And I need to paint my nails

and this Hemingway book is collecting

dust but I have to know what it's about

for my Lit class

Can't you feel the strained silence?

My ears are being raped by your words

Your never ending words

Every pause gives me a quick glimmer of hope

But you start up again

Isn't your mouth dry?

Maybe you need some water

Please forgive me

I know it's mean

Please don't come over

But feel free to call whenever

Blackjack (Flash fiction - 220 words)

2015 - while at UCF 🎓😄

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Blackjack 

At precisely four o'clock in the morning last Sunday, I came into a lot of money.

Aunt Stella had been in town visiting the family for a week and she had worn out her welcome about five minutes after walking in the front door. For the life of me, I don't know why my parents insist that she stay here when she comes in town for her yearly vacation.

"There are plenty of hotels in Vegas," I tell my mother, but she rolls her eyes and purses her lips.

"We are family, Sarah." And that was the end of the discussion.

It wasn't so bad in the afternoon and evenings because Aunt Stella was at the casinos, gambling her savings away. But in the wee hours of the morning when she returned, sometimes not until six A. M., she was plastered, red lipstick smeared all over her face. She would alternate between whining and sobbing as she clattered around in the kitchen and I'd lie awake in bed upstairs, cursing her and debating whether to yell downstairs for her to shut up.

So it was no surprise last Sunday when I rolled over in bed and heard her high-pitched squeals and the noise coming from the kitchen. I'd had enough. I yanked the comforter off and trudged down the stairs. I was going to finally tell her exactly what I thought and if she didn't like it, too bad.

As soon as she saw me walk into the kitchen, she ran over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. I tried to push her away, but even in her drunken stupor, she was strong. "It finally happened! I hit the big one!"

"Yeah, yeah, ok, Aunt Stella. How much did you win?"

She finally released me. "A hundred thousand dollars at blackjack! And I want to give half to my favorite nephew!"

Well, that changes everything.

Carousel

My heart beats
like a bowl of sloppy Jell-O
in the back of a beat up pick up truck
Soldiering on with little hope but

chugging along just the same

A red wet mess of arteries and cables

and networks and chambers

All that we trust can be taken away

in a flick of a switch, a pull of a plug, a

-wait for it –

beat of a heart, a snap of the fingers.

I'm 32 and it's too soon

I beg the dusty white popcorn ceiling:

Just one more chance.

I held my sister's hand

We laughed, holding the cavity-causing-crunchy-when-wet

airy sugary surprise in your choice

of sweet baby blue or innocent pink

The luscious cute smell of caramel apples

mingle with greasy gross corndogs

Her yellow curls

sparkle under the flashing candy lights of the carousel

Golden, glittery orbs set fire to her blue eyes

reflecting the pink and green horses

smiling as they go around,
a permanent state of carefree joy their only job

Her high silly giggles pierce the late night air

with youthful ferocity,

no knowledge of the silvery knife that slices a heart in love

a heart rejected, ripped out, tossed aside

no fathoming of a cold bed in an empty room

surrounded by machines and bags of fluid

Helpless to save her from a world that

will rain down upon her like jagged glass

and change her laughter from high to low, silly to cynical

White trembling, almost translucent, hand over my heart

Slowing like a train pulling into the station, sluggish pull

lumbering motion, the weight of inertia dragging the passengers'

weary overworked bodies to a grueling –

Just when I think it will 
- stop - 

It moves slower, slower

Stretch and pull the fan string, watching, waiting for it to 
- stop - 

It lumbers, laboriously slow, a creeping, teasing near-motion

Stare and wait but is it still moving?

The only way to tell is to reach up and touch the dusty blades

But that stops it

2014

The Ugly Tree (short fiction - 245 words)

1997

Disclaimer: When I was 16, wrote a short series about a family named the Donners called The Donner Chronicles. They are an incredibly stupid hillbilly family from Alabama or Arkansas; they don't really know. 

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The Ugly Tree

   One day, the Donners were at the grocery store. Everyone was looking at them strangely because they were so filthy. The oldest son, Ricardo, hadn't noticed this however and saw a pretty girl over by the potatoes. He confidently began to strut over, but he tripped over an untied shoelace and fell to the floor. As he laid there, he noticed the girl was trying hard not to laugh as she pretended to study the potatoes. 

   Ricardo thought, Maybe I should just walk away. He was still sprawled on the floor. Then he shook his head and thought, No, I've come this far, I'm going for it. So he got up and walked closer to the girl.

   Not knowing what to say as sweat started to drip from his forehead, he blurted, "See anything interesting?"

   She looked annoyed and said, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I see an interesting creature standing in front of me that looks like he fell down an ugly tree and hit every branch." She walked away.

   A few minutes later, Ricardo told his family what the girl had said. They were all amused and decided to leave the store and find an ugly tree. On the way out, Tommy stopped to ask the cashier, "Excuse me, would you happen to know where the closest ugly tree is?"

   The cashier stared at him, confused and said, "Looks like you already found it."

   Tommy shrugged his shoulders and said, "That youngin' sure wasn't any help! Everybody knows they's ain't no trees in grocery stores." He rolled his eyes and walked out of the store with his family. They found a deserted area behind the store and found a tree they all agreed was pretty ugly.

   Tommy said, "Well, this is about the ugliest tree I've ever seen. So, Ricardo, what'd the girl say you had to do with it?'

   "She said I fell down it and hit every branch. Weird, huh?"

   "Well, okay!" Tommy shrugged. "Let's all take turns. Now, make sure you hit every branch."

   The Donners had the time of their lives, climbing up and falling down, hitting every branch along the way.

   Ricardo said, "Now, I feel like I fell down an ugly tree!" And with that, he turned and began walking back to the store.

   "Where are you going?" asked Margerita.

   "Well duh! I'm going to go back in there and show that girl what somebody really looks like after they fall down an ugly tree!"

The Black Staircase

This is a poem written by my character Aiden Black in my book series. This is included in the first book, The Devil You Know.              

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 The Black Staircase

Take me down where it's too dark to see

Nothing but black not a light to flee

A flight on a spiral, a wave of a staircase

Are you brave enough to try

your feet meet with air

You really could fly

Or get caught in the stare

The wind sweeps you up

Fooled into trying

You think you're flying

but where the dumb meets the brave

is a riddle I've yet to solve

Crawling through the cave

You pour the misery over like

a thick sauce of years past

She didn't make this for you;

she doesn't know you exist

but when you get the chance

Ask her, was I missed

-Aiden Black, The Devil You Know © 2014 Elaine Ewertz