Don't Go There

God bless the heartless
As they cloak themselves in darkness
For their souls
Are empty
Like rotting corpses
Their hearts not beating anymore
Their hearts decay
As they descend into the grave.
“Don’t go there!”

No longer does the corpse cry out for help.
He doesn’t care.
If you try to help him,
If you dig up his grave,
He will only be a stinker.
“Don’t go there!”

Though he is dead,
He will rebuff you
Fighting harder than any immortal being could;
If you try to talk to him,
He will not answer.
Except to say:
“Don’t go there!”


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

That Old Building

Some say that old building is haunted; others say that the figure seen inside is just the custodian. Whatever the figure is, a ghost or a janitor, I don't know, but I will tell of another version I heard from my pastor. "That old building" I mentioned is the one with the steeple, the stained glass, and the pews. That figure seen, according to my pastor, is God. On Sunday, God is in His prime. He fellowships with His children; He speaks through the pastor; once in a while he'll even work a miracle (as long as there's time in the schedule). Come Monday, however, everyone's gone, and He's left all alone. It's not that He doesn't want to be with them, but the disturbing truth is...

God is trapped in that old building! He can't get out! Some say He's there to protect Him from the outside; others say He's there by some command; still others say that the building itself has such a power that even God cannot escape. Whatever the reason, try as He may to go through a door, a window, or a wall, He cannot get out.

On Tuesday, a group of men is praying; they need answers fast, but God's ears are too dull to hear them. Perhaps if they'd come inside. On Wednesday, God sees some passers by. He cries to them, but the immense walls muffle His words, and the stained glass distorts His visage. They don't know whom He is. On Thursday, a woman prays in her house; she desperately needs healing, but God's arms are too short to save her, trapped in that old building. On Friday, two teens are trying to study the scriptures; they want to know God, but He's not in the Bible; He's in that old building. They can't hear Him through the walls. By Saturday, God gives up on trying to escape and waits for Sunday to come.

On Sunday, everyone comes back; they've all missed God so much that they make a decision: "Let's have our service here every day!" Consequently, most of them have to abandon their families and jobs, but God doesn't mind, because He was lonely all by Himself in that old building.


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Parade

All are mummers
In a mummers parade
Floating through The Fall
Of ticker-tape.

Marching in line
Ready for inspection,
It’s a demonstration, but for whom?
Is the pirate krewe
The motorcade we follow?
The lawless ones
Who float to war so quickly.

What holiday are we celebrating?
Whose color do we guard?
And on whose stage
Are we riding?
Who is the twirler of that hallowed baton?
Does he approve our callithump?
For the wedding of the Nephilim root,
The iron and clay?
Is he a potter or a smelter of iron?

Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

A Son's Gambit

CAST OF CHARACTERS 2 m

DAD- A forty-something male

SON- A twenty-something male

TIME: The present.

At Rise: Lights rise. SON and DAD are sitting at a table CS playing chess with a game clock. SON is playing white. Behind them is a screen on which a close-up of the chess game is projected.

SON (plays d4): I haven't seen you much lately. (Presses game clock button)

DAD: Yeah. (Plays d5; presses game clock button)

(SON pauses, looks at DAD, then plays c4; presses game clock button.)

DAD: Queen's Gambit, huh?

SON: There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about.

DAD (smiles): A bold move, but I think I'll decline. (Plays e6; presses game clock button)

SON: Can't we have a real conversation for once?

DAD (looks SON in the eyes): OK. When am I gonna see you in church?

SON (sighs): Dad, I...uh...You know I can't go back to that life.

DAD: That's what I thought. Your mother has wept and prayed for you and lost sleep for countless nights.

SON: It's not as if I don't believe in Jesus anymore. (Plays Nf3; presses game clock button) I just don't like your particular interpretation of Him.

DAD: Why are you upset? (Plays Bb4) You're the one who wanted a real conversation. (Hits game clock button)

SON: That's not what I'm talking about. (plays Qd2; slams game clock button) You always do this. You've always done this! You turn everything around the wrong way.

DAD: And you've always blamed me for everything! (Plays Nc6; slams game clock button hard) Why don't you accept responsibility?

SON: I'm not trying to blame anyone. (Plays a3; presses game clock button) I just want to understand--

DAD: You'll never get me. (Plays Bxd2; presses game clock button) (Chuckling) Got your queen.

(SON plays Nfxd2; presses game clock button. DAD is concentrating on board.)

SON: Dad, I...What was your father like? I mean, how did he treat you?

DAD: Seriously? (Plays Nxd4) Don't even bother. (Presses game clock button)

SON: Huh? (Plays e3; presses game clock button)

DAD: I told you, (Plays Nc2+) you'll never get me. (Presses game clock button) Check.

SON (plays Kd1): You never really talk about him. (Presses game clock button)

DAD (plays Nxa1): How's that? (Presses game clock button)

SON: Did he ever treat you with love... (Plays cxd5) ...or affection? (Presses game clock button) I mean--

DAD: I never lacked anything! (Plays exd5) I always had food enough and clothes and shelter. (Slams game clock button)

SON: There's more to life than food and shelter! (Plays Bb5; slams game clock button)

DAD: Just what are you getting at? (Plays c6; hits game clock button)
SON: I just want to understand why you are the way you are. (Plays Ba4; hits game clock button)

DAD (plays Qg5): What does that mean? (Slams game clock button hard)

SON: I...Um... (Plays f4; presses game clock button)

DAD (plays Qg4+): Check. (Slams game clock button) What do you want from me?

SON (plays Ke1; slams game clock button hard) (Anguished): I just want peace!

DAD: Well, you'll never have peace acting this way! (Plays Qh4+) Check. (Slams game clock button hard) Get a hold of yourself, son!

SON: What have I done wrong that you treat me like this? (Plays Kd1; slams game clock button) Why have you always treated me like this?

DAD (Plays Bg4+): Check. (Slams game clock button)

SON (plays Nf3): Why do you act so aloof? (Slams game clock button)

(DAD sighs and plays Qg1; hits game clock button.)

SON (plays Re1): Answer me, damnit! (Slams game clock button hard)

DAD: Don't talk to me that way!

Son: Look...I'm sorry, I'm just tired of you treating me this way!

DAD: There you go blaming me again! Why do you have these outbursts? You need to control yourself and stop acting like this! And what kind of language is that anyway? (Plays Bxf3+) Check. You sure didn't learn that from your mother and me, did you?! (Slams game clock button hard) And how have I ever treated you wrong?

SON (furrows eyebrow; plays Re2; hits game clock button) (Softly): Can't you just be nice and stop hurting me?

DAD (plays Qxe2#): Checkmate. (Presses game clock button)

SON (after pause): You know, I used to get so upset when you'd beaten me, but now, I don't care. I cried myself to sleep countless nights. I felt so destroyed by you for so long. I don't even care anymore.

DAD: Well, being composed is an important skill in chess. If you can't control yourself you'll never be a good player. That's why I'm so good. I'm always under control; I don't let my emotions run away.

SON: I'm not talking about the game, Dad. (Walks off-stage L)

(DAD looks puzzled. Lights down.)


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Nounia

Bob sat in front of his T.V. set with a frozen dinner and a Diet Coke. His eyes glossed as he skipped forward through the ads, but something made him stop.

"Do you have trouble thinking of the right word?" the soothingly unisex-voiced announcer asked.

Bob thought about his social awkwardness and the forgetfulness he was dawning on as he reached 40.

"Can you describe something to the smallest detail, but can't think of what it's called? Do you sometimes use the wrong noun at the right time? These could be signs of a legitimate medical condition called Noun Type Neurodeficiency Forgetfulness Syndrome, or NTNDFS, commonly called Noun Loss. People with Noun Loss may have trouble remembering names, explaining concepts, defending themselves in court, writing poetry, or carrying on a conversation the way they used to."

"Yes," Bob thought to himself, "I have trouble remembering names."

"But thanks to medical science we now have Nounia."
From here the ad began to show people shopping, bicycling, swimming, and playing with their grandkids.

"What if I have Noun Loss?" Bob muttered.

"Nounia is the first FDA approved drug for the treatment of Noun Loss, so you know it's safe. Nounia can help those with Noun Loss take back their nouns, and take back their lives."

"I need Nounia!" Bob shouted.

Presently a young white doctor with blue eyes and perfect teeth appeared. "Don't take Nounia if you are nursing, pregnant, or sexually active; the most common side effects with Nounia are memory loss, dizziness, dry lungs, constipation, diarrhea, increased gambling and sexual urges, swearing, wanting to play or listen to music, and uncontrollable hair growth. Do not operate light machinery or read Shakespeare out loud while on Nounia; do not ride a tandem bicycle until you know how Nounia will affect you. Occasional and rare side effects may include death, vomiting, loss of speech, paralyzation, and boredom with office meetings; if you experience a yellowish rash three quarters of the way up your ribs on the left, call your doctor immediately and stop taking Nounia."

Bob was enthralled by the dancing of the pixels on the screen and the hypnotizing sound in his ears.

"Take back your nouns, take back your life, with Nounia."

Bob immediately called his doctor who heartily recommended Nounia. The first time he took it, Bob sleep-walked into a lake, but neither the lake nor the inexplicable loss of every bit of the cartilage in his body is what killed Bob; what killed him was the fact that his heart burst - literally exploded. Bob's family started a class-action lawsuit against the company that made Nounia (Witchdoctor-Graft, makers of Verbatim); Nounia was subsequently pulled from the market. I believe Witchdoctor-Graft is now selling the same drug under a different name, though I can't recall what.

Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)