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Vampires and other strange visitors – part two

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It was Aiden.

I pushed through the door, blocking his would be view of my guest, and closed the door. Aiden, unlike vampires had no universal law that necessitated him not coming in uninvited. Don’t get me wrong. Aiden’s a great guy, probably my closest friend, but he had a knack of injecting himself into situations. And this situation with my new vampire friend I want to myself.

“What’s up man?” I asked.

“It’s been a weird night, dude.”

“Yeah? How so?”

Before he responded he took a step back and looked down the stairs leading to my apartment. He’s always been a little paranoid in my opinion, but he seemed a little more paranoid than usual. He took his Android phone from his jacket pocket and keyed in his passcode to unlock it. “I got it recorded this time, man. Look what the bitch did.”

I watched the video on his phone. I saw what appeared to be his house, though I wouldn’t be able to swear in a court of law that’s what I was seeing. The picture was dark, and it jerked from side to side every few seconds. “What am I looking for?”

“Just wait man. You’ll see.”

I waited. I didn’t see.

“See that? That’s her!”

I still didn’t see.

“Wait, lemme rewind it,” he said. His phone chirped. I guess chirped is the right word. He changed his ringtone to a cricket sound. “Shit. That’s her.” He answered the call.

I was starting to feel more than a little impatient. Just twelve feet away, my guest with the sheer white top offering a view (and maybe soon a feel) of those pert breasts, size B, I estimated, not that I’m an expert on women’s breasts but I’ve seen hundreds, felt at least a dozen.

His side of the phone conversation: “Yeah. Yeah. Uh-huh. Really? Okay. Okay. Bye.”

He ended the call. “She denies it was her.”

“Did you confront her?” I hadn’t heard any accusations or questions.

“Well, no, not exactly, but she’s just all la-di-da, like everything’s normal. She’s playin’ me, dude. And it’s clear on the video. Here, lemme show you again.” He restarted the video on his phone.

Same dark, blurry house, same camera shake, same absence of incriminating evidence. But I had a dilemma. I could agree that I saw something or tell him the truth. I thought I could get rid of him quicker if I agreed. So I did. “Damn. What a bitch! And she denied it? Crazy!”

“Fuckin’ a, it’s crazy.”

I’d done my good deed, validated my friend. Now back to my vampire on the couch. “Listen man, I gotta get back in there. Got a lady friend waiting.”

Aiden craned his neck to see inside. I blocked.

“Where’d you meet her?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

“Try me.”

I sighed. Aiden was relentless. I knew he wouldn’t leave peaceably until I’d satisfied his curiosity. And besides, I was hoping I could score a little weed. “I met her ten minutes ago when she knocked on my door. I’ve never seen her before tonight.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. But you know what they say about gift horses. And this girl’s no horse. She’s drop dead gorgeous.” I’d hoped my choice of metaphors wouldn’t come back to haunt me. “Hey, you got a little weed? I can pay you Monday after I get paid.”

“Sure man.” Aiden reached into his jacket pocket, the same one where his cellphone now rested, and pulled out a small ziplock bag. “I’ll split it with you.”

One word, and then another…

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One word.

And then another.

This is the cure for writers’ block.

But it’s a cure only for the symptoms.

The real solution is deeper. Much deeper.

Good writing flows from the heart; only an open heart flows.

The solution then, the cure, is to open the heart, to free the heart, to create the connection from heart to mind, to free the muse, to invite her perfect song.

We’ve got to dig deep, to surrender, to seek and allow ourselves to heal and to grow. The difference between inspired writing and common drivel is an open heart.

Yes

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I set aside my passions
Waiting for your hand
Dancing in the silence
A lost and broken man

I gladly fell asleep
Denied the rising tide
Waited on the shore
For the moment you’d arrive

I changed my whole vibration
To be in tune with you
Hoping for a moment
When you would see the truth

I risked my life on chances
Forgot forever’s way
For just one final dance
Just to hear you say…

One word…

Yes.

Perfect Sight

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Feasting in your word
Dancing in your light
Gloriously reveling
In your most perfect sight

Surrounded in your grace
Saved by Savior’s love
Singing with the angels
Sacred words from hight above

Clothed in your great mercy
Seeking all that’s true
Perfection is upon us
Lord, all we need is you

Feasting in your kindness
Dancing in your light
Reveal to us your glory
We seek your perfect sight

two eyes, one view

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two eyes
two visions
merging
separating
perceptions
sensory cues
images stored
retrieved from the mind’s eye
echoes of yesterday
ripples into tomorrow
touching today
meeting in an instant
can one eye perceive depth?
can two eyes not project?
memories of a distant view
perceptions of a moment new
seen by one or two
undertake the next coup
intermingled
thoughts, visions, feelings, beliefs
coupled with another’s
creating a new reality
ride the new waves
curtail the resistance
recognize the new reality
built on a word
and a look
and a dream
in an instant
here and now
hear and know
see and renew
be and believe
trust and perceive
in a moment conceive
and all is well
here in this space in time
where two meet
and join
as one