Blog Archives

Yet to Find my Love

Will I be met in a future
not yet determined
by a graceful love interest?
Oh, sweet paramour,
might you caress my heart (perhaps)?
Or is it lunacy to compare
the love of fairy tales
with morbid reality, the taste
of which is never
as delectable. After all,
what is this insatiable desire
called love, but a chemical reaction
of the mind, and like all chemicals,
the drugged effect it induces
offers no reprieve from the reality
we face. Humans are mammals,
and mammals do not
mate for life; nothing
is ever permanent.
It is all make believe,
and I do not know who it is
we are trying to fool, when romantic
couples remain together
for years and years. The fighting;
the bickering; the cheating;
is it not enough to end
a marriage? To sever
a connection, permanently,
with a paramour, turned villain?
Remain together long enough
and everybody becomes
the bad guy; no heroes ever fall
in love. Why bother spending
so much money on counseling
and therapy? The love once felt
died long before the first kiss
was ever implemented.
Maybe, however doubtful
it might be, these are just
my thoughts gone rogue.
Maybe I do not wish
for happiness, but for something
else instead, deep within
the bowels of my supposed soul,
believing myself ripe for suffering,
as punishment, for not
already finding love.

Within Your Dazzling Eyes

I know you could never love me,
for you are but a dream.
You walk upon the gathering clouds,
but beneath the stars
you surely aren’t, for you are brighter
still, a mesmerizing spell
being cast with every breath
taken by your glowing energy.
Never are you beside me,
for even when you are,
your body, beauty and mind
are forever miles away,
and only I, an outlandish fool,
could have believed
for one pleasing second,
you could look upon my face
and see your future husband,
within those dazzling pearls
you call your eyes.

I was born to love thee

I was born to be kissed by your lips;
to place my hands upon the
curvature of your center and feel
my way towards your back. I was
born to have my heart of
palpitating energy groomed by
your beating passion; to have
feelings of such extreme intensity,
I could not live without. I was
born to be seduced by the scent of
your ravishing fragrances and
perfumes; to admire your shapely
figure and feel nothing less than
exponential longing to have your
flesh attached to mine, like a tattoo
of unwavering flawlessness. I was
born to nibble my way down your
back and pluck every portion of
your front with my tongue of
tantalising enjoyment; to pleasure
everything of yours once the moon
is stretched towards its pinnacle. I
was born only to love thee, to hold
you close at night; to feel the rise
and fall of your chest against mine,
and the warmth of your internal
magic. I was born to marry you, to
see you walk on down the aisle,
and to sign the vowel of your
heart’s ownership forevermore. I
was born to be with you, and such
is my destiny, and even if you do
not notice me today, I know fate
will shine upon our lives in a
future not far from now, for much
like poetry, my love does not
conform, nor does it follow rules,
breaking all of them as it screams
for those once silenced in their
writing.

For a Teardrop of Affection

Dear love, have you abandoned me
this day? Have you granted me
the affection of the woman I adore?
If this is not the case, and the sun
has instead ceased to shine on me,
should I put my heart on auction,
and hope that my lady comes to me?
I can see it now; wanted, a woman
of beauty and intellect; of passion
and understanding; of truth and
divine appeal. Looks are not
everything, but it is true that I am
a man, and the shallowness of my
eyes prevents me from
acknowledging a woman, whose face
fails to capture me. This woman,
she must be an intellectual, capable
of holding a sentence between her
teeth, with enough space behind
her ear for a felt-tip pen. For she
is a writer, and words are her
kung-fu, and with just one punch
she will have you surrounded by
a sentence of her choice. This
woman, she must be able to
charm a cobra with but a glimmer
of a smile, for the poetry of her
personality permeates her world
with the everlasting fragrance
of the life that she enjoys. Her
laugh, must be experienced
in the act of happiness, and needs
to feel like roses caressing the
naked skin rather than the
shattering of broken glass. This
woman, she must have an accent,
quite unlike the one which escapes
my lips, for the sound of an
Australian, to me, has little
romantic appeal, and if she can
speak another language
altogether, well, she would have
certainly plucked the strings of
my attention, from now until
time’s end. This woman, she
must appreciate the touch of
jeans and trousers upon her
legs, not just the billowing of
the wind, or the glisten of our
nearest star. She must not
accommodate every feminine
tradition, and must be capable
of becoming not a stereotype,
but her very own person. The
colour of her eyes; her hair;
her skin, is all debatable, much
like the touch of tattoos and
jewellery, which inevitably,
will always have my approval.
Lastly, and this is non-negotiable,
this woman must be capable of feeling
an affection towards me, and if
this be true, then love it must
surely be, and with a smile, and
a heart of unending greatness,
I will tame the wildest oceans,
cross the driest continents, and
brave the most heinous of storms,
if it means I could kiss the woman
I shall marry and adore from now
until the collapse of everything
that makes me who I am this day.

The Place I Wish I Was Right Now

‘We should do it’ she cried,
‘it sounds like fun’, the portal
but an inch from closing.
‘I am uncertain’ stated I,
‘I am weighed down with doubt;
what if we cannot get back?’
‘Nonsense’ said she, ‘you shouldn’t
talk like that, boys should
be more gung ho.’ ‘Okay Alex’
I said, ‘let’s do this’ and the
two of us walked in.

The portal closed upon
arrival; it was instant and
quick, our world now long
gone. Instead of a house,
we stood now in a yard
of graves, the name on one
tombstone looking quite
familiar. ‘Derek’ it was written,
and the last name was ‘Childs’,
yet the child-like ambience
was now all but gone.

‘Where do you think mine is?’
asked Alex, before seeing my
face and she said ‘I’m sure it
means nothing’ and yet, I was
not thinking about me. The
tombstone meant death and
yet it was not mine, but at
the same time, it could very
well have being. I thought of
what could have happened;
how this could have come
to pass, and I was filled
with life, not dread.

What did this Derek do? Was
he at all like me? Did anyone
love him? Did his death
mean anything; sacrifice or
martyr, or was it purely
meaningless? Was it his fate
or was it chosen for him? Did
he accomplish his endeavours
or leave behind a life
unfinished? I noticed not any
tombstones that bore resemblance
to his and pondered who, if
anyone had been left behind.

A wife perhaps; several
adoring children, or were there
no family to speak of; was
he a loner like me? If so,
his death was warranted
for even I on occasion had
longed for the blood to bleed
forth from my body. If not,
and there were indeed loved
ones to speak of, then
even I would be content
with a death like that.

Stereotypically, perhaps not
a happy conclusion, but
not all endings are. If he
was loved and his life was
fulfilled, then maybe there
was still hope for me. ‘This
is why we came here’ I said,
‘now I know what I must
do; I must live life now, and
leave behind a cadaver
worthy of recognition.’

My words may seem
heartless but are with
absolute certainty not untrue,
as the portal we arrived
through appeared once more.
With one last look at my
entombed reflection, Alex
and I left behind the yard
and returned to the one we
unfortunately lived in. Death
be not joyous, but it’s where
we all go, and at least my
story now had a beginning.

I Live to say I love you

SYNOPSIS: A final confession to a woman that one could never attain about the way one feels inside.

 

I live to say I love you, these words I speak are true,
for without you in my life, I’m lost for what to do.
Without you standing by my side I frequently feel so foul,
I need you like oxygen and have to be with you somehow.
For I am caught within the intoxicated aroma of your life;
there is nothing I would never do to have you as my wife.

When without you I‘m not whole, on the contrary I am broken,
these feelings I have for you can no longer remain unspoken.
I want to love thee forever, but perhaps I ask too much,
for the hands of humans and fair angels do in fact not touch.
But perhaps this is not love, perhaps it’s nothing more than greed;
to have you in my life eternal, I swear I will succeed.

You are yet to have met a man you could not turn into a lover;
you have the looks of a fair angel and the wisdom of your mother.
Please, if you would dare, look into my eyes, for within them you shall see
that the two of us are destined to live together in harmony.
You have always owned my heart for you are beautiful, elegant and strong
and because of these fabulous qualities I have loved you all along.

Your love is just so secretive and yet it stands out just so clear,
losing you to eternity is the one thing I always fear.
Your unfathomably gorgeous good looks fuel my body like gasoline,
for your riveting beauty is unlike anything I have ever seen.
Through all the many years that have passed us by I have watched you so lovingly.
Congratulations on the wedding. I hope the man you love makes you happy.

Confession

SYNOPSIS: This following poem is actually not really a poem at all. It was a song lyric I wrote back when I was with a band which was never actually turned into a piece. Well, it was lying around gathering dust so I thought it better to upload the bastard than to leave it around and allow it to go to waste. Basically, it is the story of a proposal of marriage.

Love, you’re mine to be,
standing here by my side.
We’ve shared the laughter and the tears,
now you’re here with me.
You will be mine tonight,
and will be throughout the years.

I can no longer pretend,
you’re the cure to this obsession.
You’re all I have to defend,
and I know I’ve made the right decision.
Anything that hurts I’ll always mend,
which is why I ask this question.
Just please, give me a second;
I need to make a confession.

I’ll give all my love to you
wrapped in a gentle kiss.
I feel your skin touch mine
and swear I’ll always love you.
I penetrate your gentle lips
and promise to be yours ‘til the end of time.

I can no longer pretend,
you’re the cure to this obsession.
You’re all I have to defend,
and I know I’ve made the right decision.
Anything that hurts I’ll always mend,
which is why I ask this question.
Just please, give me a second;
I need to make a confession.

I hold your hands and kiss your skin
and feel your love surround me.
I drink to you a glass of wine
and know our love shall deepen.
You have always been my fantasy,
and now you’re forever mine.

I can no longer pretend,
you’re the cure to this obsession.
You’re all I have to defend,
and I know I’ve made the right decision.
Anything that hurts I’ll always mend,
which is why I ask this question.
Just please, give me a second;
I need to make a confession.

Lost in Tranquility

SYNOPSIS: A young man tosses a message in a bottle out to sea which asks the first woman who receives it to be his future wife, in the hopes of finding his certain someone.

 The sun’s reflection burned brightly across the ocean as the waves rippled across the crisp, crystal blue surface. Christopher stood at the tip of the beach where the ocean reached the sand, the water gently nibbling at his feet. He rubbed his hand through his thick, black hair which was stuck to his scalp from all the perspiration that was dripping across his face. His eyes were a dark brown colour, the rays of the sun being reflected in his shining pupils as he crouched down before the sea, a bottle clasped in his hand.
Lindsay slowly came running along the beach, pausing the moment she laid eyes upon him. Her Asiatic face had a yellow tinge to it, her black hair flying out behind her. She was not very tall, her favorite orange Hawaiian shirt hanging from her body as her denim skirt billowed ever so gently in the ocean breeze. ‘Come on Chris!’ she cried. ‘Let’s go back to the party!’
‘You know’ began Christopher in a dry voice. ‘I thought me and Charlotte had a chance, but I was wrong!’
‘Come on Chris’ repeated Lindsay. ‘You’re drunk.’
‘Surprisingly not’ announced Christopher. ‘My head has never been so clear, nor so open. You know what I have here?’ he asked, holding up the bottle.
‘I’m gathering that was filled with alcohol a few seconds before I arrived’ commented Lindsay.
‘No’ smiled Christopher. ‘No, it wasn’t. I have inserted a letter into this bottle, asking the first woman who reads what I have written to be my wife. No pick up lines, no rejections, just a fated exercise.’
‘I think you’d better step away from the shoreline before you hurt yourself’ stated Lindsay as Christopher hurled the bottle out into the ocean which splashed into the crystal depths and began to slowly bob away. Lindsay looked at Christopher in horror as though he had done something terrible as he began to walk past her. ‘It is my life’ he said. ‘And I know in my heart this is the right thing to do.’

FIVE YEARS LATER

‘Why do you still live here?’ asked Jackie with a smile, her wrinkles becoming more visible as the flabby skin on her face was pulled back. She made her way up from the long, wooden table, her great blue dress moving around at her feet as Christopher sniggered to himself. ‘You know you’re the only woman in my life for me grandma.’ She shook her head before entering the kitchen, allowing Christopher the time to sit back and admire the room around him.
The walls and drapes were each a magnificent red in colour, small tables located beside the walls with matching vases placed atop of them. The floor was made from pine wood, the sounds of the ocean being heard beneath it.
Across on the other side of the room was where Asiatic doors opened out onto a pair of twin piers symmetrically placed beside one another which made their way out into the deep, cool water. The breeze that had been carried in on the tide ruffled Christopher’s hair as he made his way to his feet, slowly wandering out onto one of the piers and crouching down to admire the view like he did every morning at ten a.m.
He brushed his hand across the surface of the ocean water, feeling the cold liquid rushing across his hand. The sound of Jackie crying out his name brought him back inside the house as she held the phone out for him. ‘Somebody wants to talk to you’ she smiled warmly.
‘Did this someone give a name?’ questioned Christopher.
‘No’ replied Jackie. ‘She didn’t.’
Christopher took the phone, placing the receiver to his ear. ‘Christopher speaking’ he said, hearing a feminine voice coming from the other end. ‘Yes, I received your letter.’
Christopher screwed up his face, attempting to remember what letter he had recently sent. ‘Sorry’ he blurted out.
‘The message in the bottle’ continued the voice.
Christopher smiled, beginning to snigger to himself. ‘Wow that was so long ago now. I’m surprised it ever made it to anyone. I had completely forgotten about it. I don’t exactly think I was in my right mind when I sent it anyway.’
‘Well’ began the woman, ‘are you still hoping to meet the girl of your dreams, or has that place already been filled?’ The voice appeared to be quite anxious as Christopher shook his head. ‘No, I still am yet to find someone.’
‘That’s great’ cheered the woman. ‘Well, not that you’re out of love, but that I didn’t receive this message for nothing. I have permission to fly over there and can be with you in a couple of days.’
‘Wow’ smiled Christopher. ‘I had never planned for anything like this. Where do you live anyway?’
‘Austin’ replied the woman. ‘Texas.’
‘I could never have imagined my letter could have ever gone that far’ stated Christopher, still bewildered by such an achievement.
‘When we’re about to leave we’ll call ahead to let you know’ stated the woman.
‘We?’ questioned Christopher.
‘Yeah’ replied the woman. ‘My father’s coming too. He goes wherever I go.’
Christopher nodded, about to hang up before asking ‘what is your name?’
‘Summer’ said the woman, the line going dead as Christopher hung up the phone, smiling. ‘Summer’ he said to himself.

TWO DAYS LATER

The crowds of the busy airport terminal flooded past Christopher as he waited close to the front doors of the facility, the late afternoon sun burning brightly in the sky above. He shuffled his feet, feeling nervous with this arranged meeting as those on the plane from Texas began to make their way out, hugging friends and family who they had missed. He held a piece of cardboard in his hands with the name ‘Summer’ written across it in the hopes of gaining the attention of the woman he was to be introduced to. He noticed a young woman and a man point in his direction, beginning to make their way through the crowd and into plain sight, Christopher feeling a little shocked by who approached him.
There was no doubt that the young woman was beautiful. She had a long and slender body, wearing tight blue jeans and a black leather jacket. Her hair was a light brown colour which flew out behind her back, what parts of her face being visible having not a single physical imperfection. The parts of her face which were not visible however were hidden under bandages which were wrapped around her head. Her green eyes shone under the white of these bandages and her lips appeared moist and warm.
Her father stood behind her, a man who was around the same height as his daughter, but nearly twice as wide, a rather large pot belly sticking out from under his shirt. His jeans looked to be on the verge of splitting, whilst his face was covered with a shaggy white beard, his eyes appearing to be quite judgmental.
‘Christopher’ smiled the woman as she took Christopher’s hand. ‘Summer’ he replied.
‘I hope you’re not offended by the way I look right now’ expressed Summer.
‘Oh, no’ said Christopher. ‘I invited you remember. I wouldn’t have done such a thing if I was so full of worry and concern.’ He swallowed before continuing. ‘My car is outside if you’re ready to go’ he said as Summer nodded, Christopher beginning to lead the way out from the terminal.

Christopher stopped his vehicle outside of his grandmother’s house, before escorting both of his guests up the ramp of concrete tiles which led to the front door. The trip back to his place had been filled with plentiful discussion as both Christopher and Summer alike leant about the country the each of them resided within. Summer’s father however reserved the right to take the trip in total silence, every so often giving his daughter a look as though expressing to her mentally not to tell everything to this complete stranger of a man. Christopher had assumed the moment they met that because he had incidentally made contact through the use of an alcoholic bottle, such had not made the best impression on the man who obviously feared the day when the man driving the car might eventually become his son in law.
The tiles on the ground leading up to the house before them were a brilliant red which went well with the overall exterior of the wooden house. The foliage outside of the residence was a brilliant green in colour, with numerous tall trees sprouting forth out from the garden nearest the front window.
Upon reaching the door it instantaneously opened, Lindsay standing before Christopher as the two friends embraced one another. Summer looked at the two of them as though she were trying to decipher what was going on between them as Christopher asked ‘what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you for a couple days and suddenly you arrive, just like that?’
‘Jackie called’ stated Lindsay as they broke apart, ‘and I wanted to have a look at the new young lady who was going to be entering your life.’
Lindsay and Summer introduced each other as the four of them made their way into the interior of the house, Summer slowly taking off her jacket with the help of her father and placing it onto the rack closest to the door. Christopher noticed two bandages attached to Summer’s left arm, Lindsay noticing them too as she cleared her throat before continuing.
‘How exactly did you do so much damage to yourself?’ she asked with a light hearted smile.
‘I’m a professional dancer’ stated Summer. ‘Ballet to be exact’ she said quickly as though ensuring that nobody interpreted her dancing profession to be in the realm of exotic. ‘During my last rehearsal which was, oh, about five weeks ago now, I slipped on the floor trying to perform a new move and cracked my head on the ballet room floor.’
She nodded as Lindsay emphasised a look of pain whilst Jackie made her way out from the kitchen with a platter of tea in her hands. ‘Well hello. I’m so glad to meet my grandson’s new acquaintances’ she smiled. ‘If you’d just follow me to the kitchen I can make us some snacks. I’m sure the two of you are very hungry after your flight.’
 Jackie began to make her way back into the kitchen as Lindsay followed her, Summer looking at Christopher for a few seconds whilst his back was turned as her father made his way close to her ear. ‘I’m happy that you’ve found someone’ he whispered. ‘I only hope he’s the man you need him to be’ he said, before following Lindsay into the kitchen.
Summer nodded before walking towards Christopher. ‘It’s one hell of a view’ she said.
‘You should see it at both dawn and dusk’ exclaimed Christopher. ‘Now that is a view!’
He looked into Summer’s eyes for a second as they began to draw closer together, before their lips gently touched, their eyes closing before they slowly pulled away, smiling at one another.
‘The doctor told me that as soon as I arrive in Australia the bandages could finally be removed and no further ones would be necessary.’ stated Summer. She moved her hands to the back of her head and began to unravel the bandages that were tied around her facial features, dropping them to the floor as Christopher marveled at the face which had been hidden beneath them.
‘Good God you’re beautiful’ he smiled, taking a deep breath before kissing her again, Christopher and Summer embracing one another as they did so.
‘I’m glad you find me so appealing’ smiled Summer. ‘I would have hated to have made this trip for nothing. You did say that you wished to marry whoever read the note you placed inside of the bottle. But I can tell you now, I am not going to spend the rest of my life with a man I have never slept with.’
Christopher stared at her in awe. ‘What about your father?’ he asked.
‘He only wants me to be happy’ stated Summer.
‘I think they would notice if we didn’t show up to eat the snacks Jackie has prepared’ grinned Christopher.
‘We do have all night’ commented Summer. ‘And when that time comes, I want you to make love to me, the same way you would to a woman you have extremely strong emotions for.’
Christopher nodded, taking Summer’s hand in his before the two of them made their way in the direction of the kitchen.

Lion Heart

SYNOPSIS: A young man attempts to come to terms with the fact that the woman of his dreams is arranged to be married by her parents to another man.

Gregory Wiseman lay in a hospital bed in the recovery ward, his face covered in a multitude of scars and abrasions from intensive trauma. He had light brown coloured hair and dark brown eyes. His cheeks were normally a dull red in colour, but today were particularly bright from the abrasions he had received. Tubes ran out from his nose and an additional tube ran from his vein to a drip, his heart and pulse rate being lower than optimal as he slowly breathed in and out. His eyes were closed whilst in the unconscious state he was in, his body completely motionless as he lay with his head propped up against a pillow. How did he manage to get into such a critical state? The answer for this remained in his past…

Gregory had always had feelings for Lisa. To him she was both mentally and physically beautiful. She had dark, curly hair and big round eyes that were brown in colour. She had a radiant glow to her skin and her smile was to die for. Not only this, but she was incredibly intellectual in many different subjects.
So when he asked her if she wanted to begin seeing him socially it just seemed like the natural thing to do and when she agreed to have a relationship with him he was over joyed.
The reaction Augustus, Lisa’s father had however was quite the opposite. Augustus had jet black hair that was shoulder length in appearance, a few gray hairs beginning to appear. His eyes were a cold, black in colour and his nose was rather large upon his aging, yellow coloured face. His mouth was often open in a snarl and he spoke with a strong accent that made him often appear twice as angry.
‘How dare you go against your family like this!’ he roared when he managed to extract the news from his daughter. ‘Lisa, you are my only daughter and I love you, which is why I expect the best for you. Having a relationship with this Anglo is not the answer. That is why we orchestrated for you to be engaged to Mathieu. You do remember him don’t you? He is one of us, Lisa. That is how we preserve our culture, by marrying into families of our same heritage, not by desecrating our family name and completely and barbarically humiliating us by having a relationship with some ocker. Your mother and I did not immigrate to this country for you to marry some Australian prick. We came for the opportunities it would hold for you. Now you are better than this Anglo. Which is why in two weeks time you shall be united with Mathieu and the two of you can start your lives together.’
Lisa had tried to protest against this and had even attempted to get her mother, Maria’s help, but neither attempts to change her father’s mind succeeded. Her mother too felt it was the best thing Lisa could do, although she of course did not wish to anger her husband and take the side of the one person who could embarrass them by bringing home a person who was not of their culture.
Maria herself had jet black hair like her husband which was always tied back in a bun as to ensure it made its way straight down the very centre of her back. She had large, jet black eyes that seemed to not properly belong to the rest of her person, whilst great red lips were placed upon her face that too seemed to exceed the size that was meant for her.
When Lisa had to reluctantly renege on the date Gregory had offered her he was considerably shocked and badly hurt by this sudden change of heart. He attempted to ask her about this immediate change, but Lisa decided not to tell him the truth, believing he would not be able to properly understand nor comprehend.
Two weeks later, just like her father had promised, Mathieu arrived. He was a tall muscular man that seemed to have an interior train of thought, i.e. he only ever thought of himself. He had dark brown eyes and hair that was always drenched in bodily fluid and had a rather tanned body. He walked around wearing a muscle top and a rumor was that back home he walked around with a bare chest. He had large ears that did not properly seem to suit him, making him look as though he was about ready to take off and fly away at a moment’s notice. His stomach too seemed inappropriately large, making it seem as though he was the kind of man who really enjoyed his beer. There was also the rumor that he had been married several times before, the women who had managed to break the relationship off with him never supplying satisfactory reasons as to why they wanted to be rid of him. They just wanted the relationship to end. Although a man who had been divorced numerous times was seen as a disgraced individual, he was still worth marrying into.
When Lisa turned twenty two she thought she was old. Mathieu however was forty six, leaving Lisa feeling incredibly young by comparison. What put Lisa off most about the man she was expected to marry was not just his physical appearance nor his age, but the lack of English he knew. It was true that she was fluent in both her native tongue as well as in the English dialect, but her English skills far exceeded the knowledge she knew of her own native language.  She did of course bring up this dispute with her father who simply waved it away as he managed the wedding arrangements with Mathieu, who would become an Australian citizen immediately after the marriage had been initiated.
Mathieu himself felt offended at his future wife’s slanderous comments towards his ability to speak English, instantly saying in a heavy Greek accent ‘I can to speak your English! Sea shells sea shells by the sea shore! How much wood could a wood chopper chop if a wood chopper could chop wood?’ He seemed remarkably pleased with himself. Lisa however, was not.
Her opinions appeared however to be invalid though and from then on she was forced to escort her future husband around the environment to get him to know the region.
Gregory occasionally noticed them traversing the city and eventually decided to go to Lisa’s house to find out exactly what was going on. Upon knocking on the door she answered, seeming almost relieved to have a distraction from what was currently occurring in her life, her face having a distinct sadness to it.
‘It took me years to sum up the courage to express to you my feelings’ admitted Gregory, holding a bouquet of flowers out to her. ‘The least you can do is explain to me why you can’t be with me.’
‘I am sorry Gregory’ she said, ‘but I am currently with someone else.’
‘Really?’ he probed. ‘Perhaps you could have told me this before agreeing to go out with me.’
‘I wasn’t engaged then as I am now’ said Lisa, looking as though she didn’t wish to express her current marital status out loud.
‘You’re engaged?’ asked Gregory bewildered. ‘And here I was hoping I might still have a chance to spend the rest of my life with you.’
‘I’m sorry’ said Lisa sadly. ‘You’re really sweet, but I’m afraid we just can’t be together.’
With that, the door closed in Gregory’s face as he began to make his way back towards the side walk, before stopping suddenly and spinning around. ‘Lisa Tsarios!’ he cried at the top of his lungs. ‘I am in love with you and from now until the day I die I will continue to be! And before that moment does indeed transpire, I will marry you and cherish you forever!’
He made his way back whence he came after saying this, a plan already in motion inside his mind.
Whilst inside the house, it was not only Lisa who had heard what Gregory had cried.
‘Who was that idiot?’ spluttered Augustus angrily. ‘Doesn’t that Anglo prick have anyone else he could annoy at this time of day? Doesn’t he know we have a wedding to prepare?’
‘If he comes round here again I’ll kill him!’ cried Mathieu in a Neanderthal-like tone.
Lisa however didn’t hear any of this. She was far too busy being swept away by the comment that Gregory had just made to her whilst she lay in her bed, smiling at the idea of being married to him.
Over the next month Gregory began to show to Lisa exactly how he felt. On numerous mornings flowers were deposited at her door which her father chucked out post haste, the remnants of them often found in the trash receptacle. These she dusted off before applying them in a glass of water and suspending them in her room.
Love letters and romanticised poems were placed inside her mail box, both her father and Mathieu ripping these into smithereens. Mathieu often read them beforehand though, which simply made him even madder. On a couple of occasions however he quite liked the verses and read them to Lisa, attempting to pass them off as his own to make his future wife feel more comfortable with the idea of marrying him. However, she could always see through his lies, knowing full well who had written them, finding the prose to be quite beautiful.
One university morning a broadcast was made, specifying for those who had burnt the phrase ‘I love Lisa Tsarios’ into the front lawn to come forth, Lisa giggling upon hearing this announcement which no one ever admitted to.
During a class PowerPoint presentation which students found incredibly boring, Lisa suddenly became attracted to the fourteenth slide which the two students giving the presentation swore they had never inserted. The words on the slide specified ‘I love Lisa Tsarios 4 life’, the class finding this to be the most amusing part about the assignment. The students giving the presentation managed to obtain eighty five per cent of the expected mark for their project.
Later that same week, Lisa was making her way back to her car and discovered a note attached under one of the windscreen wipers which indicated for her to make her way to the park.
Upon arriving, Lisa found a picnic site had been erected, Gregory making his way out from behind her and presenting her with a bouquet of flowers which she took with a dazzling smile. Together they sat down to eat the food that Gregory had prepared, just as Mathieu happened to drive past. He had only recently begun to learn how to drive in Australia and often did so with a huge smile on his face, believing that such a talent was the most amazing thing he had ever accomplished. ‘You see, I am Australian enough already?’ he could be often heard saying as he drove past the houses in the neighborhood. 
On this one occasion however, no such words were to come from his lips. He instantly stopped the car and stormed over to Lisa, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her away.
‘How dare you humiliate me like this!’ he roared, his English becoming only slightly better. ‘I see the only way to stop this absurd behaviour is to stop it at the source.’ With that, he proceeded to hit Gregory who fell flat to the ground, blood rolling down his face as Mathieu continued to brutalise him, smiling as he did so.
‘Stop!’ cried Lisa, throwing her hands up in the air. ‘Mathieu, I won’t marry you!’
At these words Mathieu stopped and stood to his feet, Gregory lying motionless on the ground beside him.
‘I love him more than I could ever love you!’ shouted Lisa, throwing the engagement ring she had been forced to wear over the past month directly at Mathieu who reluctantly left after kicking Gregory’s motionless body once more.
Lisa proceeded to call the ambulance service, riding in the emergency vehicle with Gregory as he was taken into the emergency ward to access the overall damage which had been done to his person.
Lisa waited outside to hear the news, her mother and father later arriving. ‘Mathieu was just arrested!’ exploded Augustus. ‘I think you had better explain yourself young lady!’ he cried, slapping his daughter across the face.
‘And so he should have been!’ retaliated Lisa. ‘He could have killed Gregory!’
‘Again with the bloody Anglo!’ growled Augustus. ‘Who cares about this damn Australian bastard! He deserved all that he received for meddling in our affairs. If he does die he will die a hero to the people of Greece, because from here on no Anglo will ever meddle in our affairs from fear of what will happen to them. Besides, Mathieu won’t be charged. He was released under the condition that he would never return to Australia. Do you know what you have done? You have ruined the chance you had with Mathieu. He would have been good for you, but no, you had to humiliate us!’
‘Gregory loves me!’ shouted Lisa. ‘I know you don’t want him to, but love has no cultural background like we do. It makes the decisions at its own volition. It has no laws; no boundaries. It does what it will and it has no adversary strong enough to bring it to its knees.’
‘Then love is a fool and deserves the same fate as that bastard in there!’ shouted Augustus, indicating at the emergency ward. ‘If you choose him over your own family do not expect to come back to us. From now on you are no longer our daughter and I am no longer your father.’ With that both of Lisa’s parents left as she stood in the empty corridor of the hospital.
Not long afterwards Gregory was released into the recovering ward, Lisa sitting by his side, waiting for him to awake, just as one of his fingers moved, his eyes beginning to open as he awoke to see Lisa’s smiling face.
‘What happened?’ he asked, a pained expression making its way across his features.
‘Rest now’ smiled Lisa, kissing his forehead before rubbing it with her gentle fingers. ‘We will talk again later.’

And so they did.

Hole in the Head

SYNOPSIS: Explores the final few days in the life of police officer Marcus Lithammer, revealing how it was that he died and the culprit responsible for his murder.

Officer Marcus Lithammer was found dead this morning inside the house of a Mr. Dominic Chase. He died instantly from a bullet to the side of the head, the murder weapon; a magnum revolver located a couple of metres away from the body. Dominic Chase, who is believed to be dealing with psychological issues is the prime suspect in this murder investigation and is still unaccounted for. Dominic’s family has told police they will do everything they can to help bring their son in swiftly and safely. Officer Lithammer, a decorated veteran of the Melbourne police force leaves behind a fiancé. 

Fifteen nights earlier:
The sound of the loud bar echoed around me as I shuffled in my chair, staring into the face of the soon to be Mrs. Marcus Lithammer. She had brown shoulder length hair and a spectacular smile. Her teeth were a bright white that was almost artificial in appearance whilst her lips were covered in a bright red lubricant that made them glitter under the lighting from the ceiling above. She wore a fabulous black dress with what looked to be small sapphires located across every inch of its design, the garment placed tightly across her body, revealing all of her curves. She smiled back at me as we shared a toast, downing the drinks in one gulp. I smacked my lips, feeling my revolver pressing up against my lower thigh as I moved it over to the adjacent side. ‘What do you say we call it a night?’ I asked, alternate devious intentions in mind.
‘But it’s not even eleven p.m.’ retorted Abigail. Before she could say anymore her beeper went off, her face becoming contorted in frustration as I sat back in my chair, holding my head in my hands.
‘And it’s a mystery as to who that could be’ I said sarcastically as Abigail gave me a dirty look.
‘He’s my brother’ she retorted, reaching around inside of her black leather hand bag for the device that was irritatingly ruining a perfectly orchestrated evening.
‘Yeah, your brother’ I grunted, ‘who appears to spend more time with you than I have in the past six months. I want to spend time with my fiancé for at least one night without his interference. Is that too much to ask for?’
‘You know about his condition’ shot back Abigail.
I nodded, rolling my eyes into the back of my head. ‘I know, I know, fear of the dark, fear of tight spaces, fear of being touched. I ask you, how many things can a guy be afraid of?’
‘I told him, if he needed my help to call me’ retorted Abigail. ‘So if you intend to vent your aggression on somebody, let it be me. He’s innocent’ she said, storming out of the bar as I quickly paid the tab before hurrying after her. ‘Shit’ I thought, ‘if everyone was so damn innocent I’d be out of a job and living out on my arse.’

It was a short drive to her brother’s house, the streets dark and gloomy, the moon being extraordinarily bright at its pinnacle in the sky as I stopped the vehicle adjacent to the intended residence. The double storey home looked pale and gloomy in the darkness as Abigail looked at me, before exiting the vehicle, her breath visible in the darkness as I did the same.
The door to the residency flung open before Abigail had even rung the bell, her brother looking at her with glee filled eyes.
‘Hello Dominic’ smiled Abigail.
‘I’m glad you came’ said her brother. ‘I was having trouble sleeping. Whenever I closed my eyes this nightmare continued to play in my mind. Might you be able to stay with me tonight, at least until I manage to get to sleep?’ he asked as Abigail nodded, leading the way into the home.  I managed a nod as Dominic looked at me, being unable to properly master a verbal greeting as the door closed behind me.
The interior of the home was shrouded with wood; wooden floors, wooden walls, even the furniture sharing the exact same pattern. Abigail led the way up the stairs, before turning right upon reaching the landing and escorting Dominic into his room, Star Wars posters littering the walls as I stood at the doorway as both brother and sister made their way into bed. I watched and waited patiently as Dominic began to count his usual numerical sequence in his mind to help him get to sleep, Abigail looking up at me with apologetic eyes as she mouthed the word ‘sorry.’ I instantly realised that she was not coming home with me tonight and it was with an angry heart that I briskly made my way down the stairs, slamming the front door behind me, hoping I kept that bastard of a brother awake for just a short while longer.

After driving around the town for a short while I eventually made my way back to the police station, logging into the target range and shuffling over to the farthest lane. Setting myself up in front of the target, I removed my magnum revolver from my belt and loaded all six chambers, pointing the loaded weapon at the intended target and squeezing, watching it go away. ‘If only everything were so easy’ I thought with a mischievous grin, ‘if only everything were so easy.’

Eight nights earlier:
I had parked my vehicle outside Dominic’s residence, waiting for his return home to speak with him. I took a deep breath as I turned on the radio, listening to some agonisingly brutal rap song which made my blood boil as I shut the radio off once more. Staring through the rear view mirror I suddenly noticed Dominic hobbling up the street, holding a cluster of books close to his chest, his eyes darting back and forth as though he were expecting somebody to attack him. Paranoid bastard, I’ll give him something to be worried about.
I exited the vehicle and hurried across the road over to him. ‘We need to talk Mr. Chase’ I began, being a little out of breath as I continued. ‘It’s about your sister. Well, actually it’s about your sister and I.’ I looked at him, his face looking puzzled, as if he were attempting to play coy, pretending he didn’t know who I was. ‘You do know who I am right?’ I continued, my voice tightening with anger. ‘We’ve met countless times in the past. You must have recognised me at some point in your ridiculously useless life! Anyway, I’m just here to say that I want you to lay off your sister. Why don’t you call your parents next time you have trouble sleeping? Now, I know about your little problems and I feel for you man, I really do, and many people in my position wouldn’t. But I would like to at least spend a little time romantically involved with your sister. Can you allow me that?’
The bastard didn’t even respond, appearing to completely ignore me as he walked past me and towards his front door. ‘You can’t have her you know!’ I cried as he slammed the door behind him.

One night earlier:
I lay in my relaxing bed, the wooden slats beneath me groaning as Abigail made her way over to me, unbuttoning her purple blouse and dropping it to the floor. Her amazingly luscious body that I had not seen much of recently looked as delicious as ever as I licked my lips, eager to taste her succulent flesh. I found myself salivating at her image, her dark hair rolling across her shoulders, her darker eyes looking directly into mine. Her brassiere matched the colour of her panties, both being a filthy black in colour as she made her way into bed beside me. I reached my arm around her and caressed her skin, kissing her moist lips as she groaned.
‘We haven’t done this in a long time’ she purred, beginning to unbutton my police uniform, falling on top of me and giggling as I embraced her in a warm hug. The two of us locked lips as her tongue ventured into my mouth, exploring the environment as I closed my eyes. Her hands reached for my zipper as I began to feel myself getting an erection – the phone spontaneously ringing and breaking through my greatest fantasies.
‘No, no, no!’ I shouted, infuriated at what had just happened as Abigail made her way off from my person and reached for the phone. Speaking for only a few short seconds, I instantly knew what was happening as I fell back into bed, holding my head in my hands as she put the phone back down. ‘I’m sorry Marcus’ she said. ‘But I really need to go.’
‘You don’t have to’ I said, becoming aggravated. ‘You need him like a hole in the head. I’m your fiancé! Could we at least spend some quality time together before we seal the bond? I was accosted by an attempted murderer today but you don’t hear me crying out for help, do you? I come home and I want to spend some time with the woman I am so in love with, not watch her leave to spend time with her brother. Do you not want to feel my erected penis inside you? Do you not want me caressing your succulent breasts? Do you not want me sucking your delectable clitoris? Jesus Christ, if I didn’t know any better I’d say the two of you were engaging in an incestuous relationship!’
‘That’s enough Marcus!’ shouted Abigail, putting her clothes back on. ‘I don’t need this crap from you right now’ she cried, tears in her eyes. ‘So just cut the bull and leave me be. I’ll be back as soon as I can’ she said, leaving the room as I fell back into the bed.
‘I can drive you!’ I shouted, hearing her cry ‘I’ll take a cab!’ the front door slamming behind her. I watched her from my window as she hurried down the street, cell phone to her ear. I buttoned up my shirt, grunting whilst I did so before eagerly hurrying down the stairs two at a time with the intention of following her.

I had parked in my usual position, opposite Dominic’s residence. I had watched Abigail arrive by cab, had seen the lights in her brother’s bedroom go on as she knelt down beside him, their shadows moving across the walls. I had waited patiently for over two hours, wondering what was taking them so long as Abigail finally emerged from the house, a taxi pulling up immediately as soon as she reached the curb, beginning to drive her back down the street. I rubbed my hands together as I took a deep breath, exiting my vehicle and walking towards the house. I picked the lock with a thin thread of wire, hearing the tumblers click into place, the door opening in front of me as I walked out onto the landing with the intention of speaking to her brother. I closed the door as quietly as I could behind me before slowly making my way across the wooden floor. Jesus Christ! Who in their right mind had their house comprised entirely of wood?
‘I’m sure I’d get his attention now’ I thought as I began to make my way up the stairs as slowly as possible, before hearing a sound coming from the kitchen. I crept back down the stairs and across the wooden floor, noticing a shape in the darkness that appeared to be constructing a sandwich as I sprang up behind him. Grabbing him around the neck, he instantaneously began to scream and squirm in protest, thrashing his arms around insanely as I dragged him into the lounge room and threw him into one of his wooden chairs.
‘Remember me?’ I growled through clenched teeth, ‘cuz I remember you.’ I took out my revolver and held it at my side, Dominic’s eyes growing wide with fear. ‘You ignored me before, but I doubt you can do that now. You think you know what fear is? Well let me educate you on something – you haven’t even scratched the surface. You know nothing about fear! Now, let me show you what fear really is’ I growled, holding the revolver in front of me. ‘Let’s see who the fates decide is the one most deserving of the love and affection of your beautiful sister, shall we?’
I removed every round but one from the chamber of my side arm, placing the others inside my pocket as I pointed the gun at his left temple and pulled the trigger. Dominic leapt in fear, astonished that nothing had happened. I drew the weapon to my head and smiled, pulling the trigger as I heard the weapon click, the chamber being empty. I pointed the gun back at Dominic, feeling extraordinarily powerful as beads of sweat ran across his face while he appeared to try to mouth sentences, the sounds being incoherent drivel. Pulling the trigger, the gun once again clicked, failing to fire as I turned the gun back on myself. I smiled at Dominic, holding the weapon steadily in my hand, before squeezing the trigger.