...a work in progress...

[These are bits and pieces of a poem I tried to write several years ago...just thought I'd put 'em together and see what happens...]

I built my walls so high
and now I can't see over them
I wrapped myself up tight
and now I cannot move
Dark figures beckon to me
I'd back away, but my feet are lead
They come closer, to call me
Our eyes meet, and I tremble
as my weaknesses grab me by the hand
and shove me into a canyon of shame
Why must I want you
the way that I do?
Why do you have such control?
This yearning, it started a flame in my heart
and now I am nothing
but ashes...

Target Practice

It was a sweltering hot day, without even the most impotent of breezes to cool her skin, which was slick with sweat. She swiped an arm across her forehead to whisk the perspiration away, but not before the saltiness ran down into her eyes, stinging them. With a heavy sigh, she arched her hand above her eyes like a visor, shielding them from the unrelenting brightness of the sun, and began scanning the horizon intently.

Something was up. Something that made her heart beat too fast and time move too slow. She’d felt it in the air the moment she’d stepped outside, just the way she had felt all those times before, when her bitter enemy – her most insidious antagonist – had intruded into her life with all the courtesy of a derailed freight train. He had the malicious determination of a guerrilla army cutting through the jungle, and he’d gotten her in his sights, like a sniper with a chip on his shoulder, patiently biding his time until he could shoot to kill. A quick movement caught her attention, accompanied by a foreboding quiver down her spine, and so, slowly, she looked up.

There he was. Leering down at her with dark, beady eyes that were always full of contempt. He had the confident look of a predator smelling fear, and she wasn’t sure what intimidated her more: his arrogant expression, or the unspoken loathing that crackled between them like diabolical electricity. She wanted desperately to run, to escape the evil that he intended for her, but she was trapped like a mouse under a serpent’s hypnotic gaze, and her legs had turned to stone.

Sensing her distress, he took his cue, and settled into position with the familiar ease of someone who has performed this routine so many times that it has become second-nature to him. Oh yes. He’d seen that deer-in-the-headlights look before, and he knew that the time had come to execute his plans for her. She almost made it too easy for him, really, the way she stood frozen in place, and he glared at her fiercely, hoping to make her jump a little, to mix things up a bit. He liked it better when they tried to get away. He got to show off his skill then, and the adrenaline rush of the pursuit further heightened his speed and accuracy. She looked away from him, just for a split second, and he knew it was now or never.

Like an Olympic runner, she bolted at the first indication that he was going to pull the trigger, and if an official had been around, she’d have been penalized for a false start. It didn’t matter, though. She was never meant to win this race, he’d known all along, and as his ammunition hit his target with stealth-bomber precision, the victim fell to the ground with a primal groan that seemed wrenched from her body, and lay gagging in the dust as it settled all around her.

When a man finally came to her aid, having heard her guttural cry, the grisly scene that he came upon was one he would talk about for years to come. The woman had been struck squarely on the top of her head, which had the splattered appearance of a paintball target, and her body shuddered with silent sobs. Hoping to redeem the situation, the man looked around for any clues that might cause the perpetrator to be apprehended, but justice was not to be had on this tragic day. He could only wonder about the identity of the woman’s attacker, for he was nowhere to be seen. However, on the ground a few inches away from her, the villain had left his calling-card, of sorts: a graffiti-like splash of gritty white, surrounded by a flurry of feathers.

*written by Sarah M. Fox on 11/9/07*

Highway From Hell

[I wrote this for a Creative Writing assignment in Fall '07. Our class held a competition - with voting opened up to our class, and any other students who wished to participate in judging - to determine the top three story entries. The requirements of the assignment: the story had to be exactly 200 words; had to contain a supernatural element; had to have a local setting; had to feature two of the five senses; and had to have dialogue/speaking part. My story was voted 1st place!]

He staggered past boulders in suffocating heat. His feet burned, hot gravel crunching loudly beneath them, as heat-waves hovered above the highway like a fiery fog. His eyes felt like sandpaper with each blink. His mouth was Sahara dry, and his tongue, swollen, like a bloated, beached whale. He reeked of urine and sour milk – the putrid stench of salty sweat.
“Where the hell am I?” he asked himself, smirking at the irony of his question. Hell was a vacation destination, compared to this furnace! Angrily, he thought of Lucìfa, who was responsible for his being here on this dusty, lonely road. He’d done everything she wanted, no matter how evil or despicable her request, in order to be spared from her wrath: the black flame of her glaring eyes that seared his flesh and incinerated his very soul. Still, she’d thrown him down the one-way portal from Hades to this desert wasteland.
He looked around helplessly, wondering about the name of this punishing new home to which he’d been banished. A battered metal sign standing a few yards away, glinting in the blazing sunlight, caught his attention. “Imperial County,” he read aloud. Overhead, a lone buzzard shrieked his welcome.

Above the Sky

Poorest child, ragged and frail,
I am but a sparrow,
and where I am to rest my head
You’ll give to me tomorrow.

Though cold and weary to the bone,
I will never sorrow;
Loving Arms wrap ‘round my heart
and warm me till the morrow.

And even if I die
without a penny in my hand,
I’ll fly beside You, Jesus, Lord,
to my home above the sky.

Quiet keeps me company,
a lonely little bird,
but when Your still voice calls to me,
sweeter sound has ne’er been heard.

Weakest creature, heir of nothing,
worthless I, to most, appear;
this matters little to The One
who died to draw me near.

And even if I die
without a soul to call my friend,
I’ll ever praise You, Jesus, Lord,
from my home above the sky.

Empty though my pockets be,
nothing more could bless
than bowing low before Your throne -
riches flow from Holiness.

With many tears, both joy and grief,
this path, called Life, is paved;
I could not walk its miles alone -
Hallelujah, I am saved!

And when my time to die
greets me just around the bend,
I’ll run to meet you, Jesus, Lord,
in my home above the sky.

~ written by Sarah M. Fox on 11/21/04 ~

Requiem

Goodbye, my love, goodbye…
I pray you’ll come back soon
To hold me tight in your embrace,
And kiss me ‘neath the moon.

Goodbye, sweet friend, goodbye…
I long to see your face,
To hear your voice, and feel you near –
Memories cannot replace.

Goodbye, dear name, goodbye …
I’ll try to persevere
Though my prayers seem to chase the wind,
No matter how sincere.

Goodbye, cold stare, goodbye…
My affection I rescind -
You fooled me from the very start
And, smiling, planned my end.

Goodbye, dry bones, goodbye…
Like death, we do forever part;
I pray God grant you mercy,
For you never had a heart.

~ written by Sarah M. Fox on 9/19/07 ~

Comfort Me

Grey haze surrounds me, suffocating silence,
As I wake to a cold, still dawn –
The heart-shaped seams on my blanket
Are ripped out, as I hold it tight to me,
And I cry…

Through heavy mist You call my name,
Gentle pleas search for my soul –
While bonds of burden tighten their grip,
My eyes shut, Darkness takes a bow,
And I cry…

Comfort me
I don’t know where I’m going
I’ve lost the directions
Or I’m already there
And there’s just no one here but me
Comfort me

A flood of tears like liquid glass
Cuts across my face
And everything but my life
Flashes before my eyes
Guess I was already dead
Comfort me

Trembling hands reach, heavenward,
Straining against icy chains –
Fear and grief bleed through my pores,
Burn my skin - this shame seeks its relief,
And I cry…

Silver clouds gather above my head,
Living Water pours like rain –
Rays of gold beam from Loving Eyes,
Hold my gaze – cold gives way to warm,
And I cry…

Comfort me
I don’t know where I’m going
Give me the directions
And stay with me there
‘Cause there’s just no one here but me
Comfort me

~ written by Sarah M. Fox on 11/21/04 ~

The Renewal

With weighted lids and a heavy sigh,
My eyes close on their own,
Forcing me to that far and desperate place
In the Sodom and Gomorrah in my heart.

Vivid pictures, all too real,
Flash like slides on a screen
Through the darkened haze of forbidden thoughts
In the Sodom and Gomorrah in my heart.

Guilt and longing, joined as one,
Invade the silent moral code –
So deeply imbedded, yet so easily betrayed
In the Sodom and Gomorrah in my heart.

Curiosity, perfumed with reasoning,
Justifies the destruction,
And sin and secrecy exchange their vows
In the Sodom and Gomorrah in my heart.

The acrid stench of shame and disgrace
Drenches the halls of my soul,
And stings the eyes of the One who dwells
In the Sodom and Gomorrah in my heart.

Sacred tears fall onto floors of dust,
Pooling muck and mire around –
Drowning my cries that echo unheard
In the Sodom and Gomorrah in my heart.

Then gentle words come from lips of fire,
Power and light shoot like stars,
Piercing the rock of unbearable pain
In the Sodom and Gomorrah in my heart.

Like shards of broken glass, filth crashes down
From the brokenness just begun,
And torrents of rain flood every canyon
In the Sodom and Gomorrah in my heart.

A clear lake glistens, calm and silent,
Replacing caverns of endless depth –
Where my flesh once dwelt in shadows
In the Sodom and Gomorrah in my heart.

Waves of forgiveness lap the shore of my soul,
Stirred by the Breath of Life,
And standing still on the water is the One who dwells
In the Garden of Eden in my heart.

With rested lids and a peaceful sigh,
My eyes open…



*written by Sarah M. Fox on 1/27/98*