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The Game of Thrones Season 5 premiere is this Sunday, April 12th, and that means you need to scramble to find a way to watch a live HBO stream online. But among the sea of illegal ways you’ll find to watch Game of Thrones online, you’ll get spyware, viruses and very low quality streams. And, there is the fact that it IS illegal. However, there are a couple of legal ways to watch an HBO stream online on your TV, PC, Tablet or smartphone that were announced earlier this year and will be available by Sunday’s Game of Thrones premiere.
The easiest way to watch Sunday night’s Game of Thrones Season 5 Premiere via live stream is on this year’s newly announced ScreenVariety which just added the Live HBO channel to its lineup of add-on channels. For $15/month, users can add HBO to their ScreenVariety package so that they’ll be able to watch Game of Thrones Season 5. ScreenVariety works on virtually any streaming device you own, including Roku players, Xbox One, your smartphones and tablets. The best part about ScreenVariety is that you don’t need a contract to use it, and can cancel the HBO package after the Season 5 finale if you’d like to. But, the big negative of ScreenVariety is that only one device can stream at one time, and you can’t access ScreenVariety through your PS3 or any other device not listed. There is a seven day free trial available for ScreenVariety, although you can’t add packages to the core package with the trial.
So if you’re a fellow cordcutter like myself, here are a few 100% legal ways to watch Game of Thrones via a live HBO stream online:

w w w . g a m e o f t h r o n e s . s c r e e n v a r i e t y . c o m




It's been a long, cold winter as we've waited for the real winter to come...Game of Thrones' winter, that is! It's been one full year since we've journeyed to the land of Westeros for new episodes of HBO'***** fantasy drama and now, our wait is finally over, as season five premieres this Sunday.
This is the season we've all been waiting for, book enthusiasts and non-book readers alike, as the show has caught up to where George R. R. Martin's novels have stopped, and it's become a fact that this season is going to feature stories that haven't been in the books...yet. No one truly knows what's going to happen (besides Martin and the showrunners, of course), so for the first time since this show premiered, we're all in this together!
The mastermind behind all of Game of Thrones, Martin, promises that there are going to be some major surprises for book readers...including the fates of some characters who everyone thinks are safe.
"Yes, there will be [surprises]," Martin tells E! News. "[Executive producers] David [Benioff] and Dan [D. B. Weiss] are bloodier than I am so no one is safe here. Even characters who are still alive in the books will die in the series. What can you do? Hold on to your seats and hope it's not your favorite character who winds up beheaded or disemboweled or poisoned."
Claire Waters Nov 2013
you cry like lost toys and dead pets
there's nothing you can do about it right now
you cry like a small animal with a broken spinal chord
you keep whimpering, but it can only heal in time
you cry like pressing the skin of your palms
into the membranes of your eyes

when everything in your head is so cacophonous
you want to rub away all the little things you absorb
want that your hands could throw out this migraine
like a candy wrapper on the sidewalk
and if you believe hard enough that it's gone
you'll never notice the sugar rush or the comedown
so you press your hands to your face
as hard as you can and try to pray like a religious person
but you were raised christian and american and
the ways of believing and hoping and loving that you knew as a child
seem insincere now, and hard to speak
the language is not truthful
everything is what they told you it was not
nothing is what they told you it was
or everything was always what it was
and you or i could've told them that

and you think that wrapper might eventually end up in a landfill
if you go throwing it carelessly around
and sadness taken with too much sugar can be a toxic combination
so maybe making the bad things go away
is harder than throwing away the wrapper and enjoying the rush
maybe the wrapper is somewhere else now you can't get to
where you can't hear it crinkle or see it shrivel,
but you can still relentlessly feel it
getting whittled away by time and weather
while steadily melting down bits of you
as you pass your heart around
gasping inside the icebox

until one day you look up and the sun is a bloodier color
and your lungs are full of ice like pins
freezing inside of you
and when seconds before you had oxygen
as you begin choking, you think it's amazing how long
it seems to have been
since you were alive

your knuckles are dry from holding on
to a rusty ladder wrung
even when you want to move so badly
and there's nowhere to climb
you refuse to jump
and you're still trying to figure out
how to fall correctly
to break the least amount of limbs
Lottie Nov 2015
This ****** world just got bloodier,
The streets of the romance city are painted red.
Islamic state, you owned up and sound
So pleased with yourself.
How dare you.
In the name of Allah, the all loving,
You just killed people,
You did it.
Allah, who may well be benevolent,
Has nothing to do
With the blood on your hands.
This world disgusts me.
The higher
the pedestal,
the bloodier
the fall
Inspired by W. Shakespeare's, "Expectation is the root of all heartache."
Muggle Ginger Jul 2012
Love is not casual
Radical and sensational,
but when you said, “let’s be casual”
You took my heart you’ve held for so long
In your sweet fingertips
and squeezed the life out of it

Love is not casual
It’s supposed to be astronomical
The supernova of your life,
a shooting start or solar eclipse
Something that makes people awe
But love always rips the notions
of causality with a casualty

Because love is not casual!
The fight that’s fought in a heart
can be bloodier than World War II
Where worlds apart crashed together
So forgive me if, here in the dark,
in this chamber of sadness
I cannot be casual

Love is not casual
If we are neither hot nor cold,
brave nor bold
Then it seems to serve no purpose
Except to torment;
like the astronaut with the shuttle launch
that will never happen
If he never sees the moon,
they both have reason to mourn
Casual is the word that will have them torn

Because love is
Sensational, capable, beautiful, wonderful
Love is anything but casual
Cody Edwards Feb 2010
Rather I did, once. No longer.
We were magnetic, tectonic.
Constantly and consistently converging.
Unfolding.
Seamlessly (it would seem) arranged on
Memory's golden stage.
But today, tomorrow,
Where moves are flimsy and unsure
Lines drop from lips in silence,
Unraveling like gauze,
As we both wait for alarums that cannot sound.

I feel anesthetized, don't I? I—
And the curtain will be merciful.
A breath of disdain perhaps, disastrous.
Your touch is autumn.
I eclipse the sun, suffocate you from it.
Take your warmth.
Leave you colder than Ophelia
And bloodier than Brutus.
My inadequacy was once your balm,
A catechism to ensure another world
That we both know isn't sound.

The very least you can do is become like Icarus
Who was beautiful in his fall
And silent at his end.
© Cody Edwards 2010
statictitanic Oct 2014
The crisis around the world shows
The most humanistic qualities we pose
The desensitization and ruins of peoples' innocence
We douse our money, power, and glory in the hands
Of a cold metal pistol, that barrels out to strike you down
The cool air whispers out the truth when you've taken your last breath
Knowing there is something more after death
You release yourself from this radioactive cage
You realize how close death hits home, and threatens
To break your fragile arteries
It's not the idea but the principal of humanism
We call ourselves human, more powerful
Above Nature's canvas and her life
We dwell in a place where we think we make the most out of things
Before Time decides where you shall lay
We are weak and powerful
We decide when it is right to fight
But when the casualties are written on one's arm
We decide to leave the world
A bloodier mess
Sarina Jun 2013
I am not sure which is bloodier, more gruesome –
birth or death. It is like asking God if he prefers Eve to Adam
for demolishing that false sense of security,
specks of pride dissolved in snake venom apples.
There is mourning in creating monsters
as there is in killing them: I see starving children with
round, pregnant bellies and somehow they are more at peace than
I am on my best day. We will understand when we are dead,
not in the act of becoming a ghost, but once we are one.

When I was little, I saw the house on Camellia’s corner
crumble: attacked from behind, the same swamp I had in mine.
I had not noticed its yellow shingles before
and suddenly, this nine year old girl felt lonely for
bricks and plaster and the refrigerator hung on its balcony door.
On its side like a woman in labor –
midwives have her in a kiddy pool, the origin of its
name. Imagine being baptized before you take your first breath.

Ametrine is an amalgamation of two gemstones:
amethyst and citrine. I am that of my parents, one quarter grandma.
She who I never met but got my alcoholic mother from.
My clumsiness stemmed there, the constant
stumbling on invisible rocks and breeding ****** knees –
having two daughters who bleed monthly, but it’s never in sync.
Still, I cannot grasp being proud of ghostliness  
when there are millions of invisible children in clear blood.
anastasiad Mar 2017
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Joshua Haines Apr 2016
It's loud.

Violet, Blue, and Green lights
scatter across the floor,
across a canvas of house music,
echoing back into itself.

She crawls towards me,
wearing only poorly inked tattoos
and the lights that kiss us all.

I touch myself,
wishing it was her.

- I leave the room,
the music fading away,
like retreating from
sound-carrying-birds -

The smoke that comes from the cigarette
forms a skeletal web, reaching for the moon.
With rain slapping the dark brick walls,
hugging and creating an alley reminiscent
of a salivating, crooked-cement mouth,
I stand drenched in silver forgotten.

I drop the cigarette in a petrol-colored puddle,
watching it sink, become hard to distinguish,
and fade away.

- I reenter the room,
the song has changed
and is more mechanical. -

It's loud.

The lights are now
Bubblegum, Aqua, and Tangerine.
She lays supine, watching dollars
drift down, slowly, almost frozen.
Then the splitting of the air.

Fat-Man's body does a half-spin
as I lodge a bullet into his obese shoulder.
The music still blares, almost meaning more, now.
Regrouping himself, Fat-Man is weaponized,
drawing a greasy, inky blaster, desperate to spit.

A supernova erupts and quickly disappears--
like the aftermath of blowing birthday candles--
as his black speckled, crewcut scalp peels back,
letting fragments of chalky skull and pink penne
***** out of his square, boxed head.

Blood appears black under these lights
and instantly whips across
Samantha's still supine body.
The remaining people in the room
scatter like light exposed roaches.

Haunted, she is a toppled statue.
My steps move with the rhythm of the song.

Fat-Man's leather jacket
holds more meat than some mouths.
I plant my hand inside all pockets, find $6,480
in greasy, bloodier-than-usual presidents,
and move towards her, with the music.

Crouching beside her, I wipe the blood.
I clean her pale, tense torso
and help her up.

On two painted feet, she looks detached.
Silence exists, now, despite the music,
while she studies me with the same brown eyes.
Her lips quiver, she remembers
and wraps me with much thinner arms
that used to exist in nothing but memory.
Luis Garcia Mar 2015
Mirror, Mirror, Where is Delphi

i preferred it when you had your hair in a bun,
walking down Tweedy with ripped jeans and taylor gang chucks,
with your hair blazed bloodier and brighter than desolate Mars,
when you were just another girl i grew in war with,

i never dreamed, though i saw that one day you would leave,
and desert the dirt covered laces and kiss me goodbye,
tethered up in knots as you threw us in the sky,

i look down at you tangled on the line,
a saddened women posing in her in undergarments before the digital eye,
you are the baddest *****,
i can see it on my screen as i scroll past in thirst,
you are the baddest *****,
i acknowledge this to be true,

infantry ****** open fire, shooting explosive emojis that detonate your feed,
i know you wear bullet proof armored sweaters
but i also see the bruises on that solitary face,
leeches feeding lust into your neck,
you step into battle with black eyes on your chest,
swinging your “i don’t give a ****” sword, beheading lascivious foes,

i preferred when we sat on the terrace during the decline of the sun,
softly voicing how we’d get out of this cage,
walking north of south gate with worn out tokens,

i left you unguarded
pardon me, lustful,crimson Helen of Troy
a follicle of light is falling from the house of our master
troubadours warp our imagination
with jasmine and other heady fragrances
gypsy eyes steal salt water from tides
and return them to our adjacent lives
slaves and slaveholders, slews of cattle
ranchers, and fathers battle
keep mustard seeds by the bedside
and burn irises like incense
hours fly by and leave us hurting
in piles of rusted shirts and clothing
her luck has begun to expand but man still demands his fate
so redecorate your cottages and receive the visitor's hate
make music burst throughout the garden
as lonely brushstrokes reach out to touch your bottom
i am moving, doing, and having faith only in the theater
she is carrying fetid water with feet bloodier
than the skyscrapers bound to her posterior
Daria Jul 2018
REG
steal your own words
preach, have a cig
have a glass of water
transform

bigger gods, ya know
bigger, fatter, just ****** lovely
bloodier
god available 24/7, first 3 months free

great walls& warnings
great flood of sweat& tears
buildings higher each 500 years
( respect mountains madly
  bring cross to the top of them
  they must need it so there )

"your land is in for years of desperation + need
come back where you belong, where you were given"

statues crying in religious ecstasies
backpacking pilgrims so far in the street
they end up not in church, but steps of a modern arts museum

gather lucky fortunes and buy pepper-pots
live earthly walking on air
**** it - Jesus just loved water ski
**** on salt
jeffrey robin Nov 2014
//\\
0   0
|
<>
/

                                                           ( goofy american )
• •

Disintegration

////

The final folly

( the pretense of love )

/::/                      

The final death

The lasting death

The death of all ideals

//

The silent mass man

Amid the screaming violence

Hiding behind the mask of tyranny



The slow persistent love

That we know we truly embody

Lies dead in beds of ****** lust

And even bloodier greed



My love remains

(It won't be on the nightly news )

But still

You can believe in me
Aditya Roy Oct 2018
I witnessed ******
The body inside
With inside frigidly
Probably tampered with
After the authorities left
The same lascivious lady
Was in the house for couple of seconds
Before I had entered
I had just run my errands
Knife lay on the floor
Gun lay far from the door
Policeman probably accompanied
The criminal along the way
Carry the along the weight
Disrupting the interiors
As the rug
Makes the crime bloodier
Blood
Of Red wine
Lay on the Floor
I managed to break
Behind that happy face,
There's a life of fright,
I have this horrible case,
Where I have to cut at night,
My face has gotten paler,
My arms have gotten bloodier,
My sleeves have gotten longer,
My nights have gotten harder,
Behind that childish face of mine,
I have a part if me that's all broken down,
People push me around and call me a kid,
When they talk about those teenage things they tell me to get rid,
They don't understand that behind that smiley face,
Is a girl who cuts,
But if I told them then they'd think I'm nuts.
Sucky poem. Like all my others but I can really relate to this :C
Arcassin B Jul 2017
By Arcassin Burnham


I hope the men don't run off and try to see the fear in others,
Hope the women don't gossip like they don't have a care for others,
I hope the kids in school don't have agendas just to pick on others,
This world literally crazy,protect your sisters and brothers,
Putting your **** videos on Worldstar just to see someone bloodier,
Do we really wanna be seen in the history books as histories most violent
Country?
Now come on guys everybody and their mama knows that this country is
Built off money,
a socially awkward economy,

that tells you to obey their policies,
the justice system , are you blind to see,
they **** for no reason , we run out of peace,
as a black man you can't on your two feet,
without getting cascaded with bullets,
whatever hope we get or had in the past just know they're the ones
that took it.
©abpoetry2017
https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/07/figured-out.html
Let's go back to the days of wayback slave tracks
Money made in America off of back of blacks
Imagine that the musket aimming sky high
Over multiple supplies war by dawn and sunrise
See the white lies in the eyes they try to hide
Collide confusion to a whole nation abusing cruisin'
Through the violent displays of history looking at the
Way they use to treat us blacks in this country
Say we free but the slave owners owed a debt see?
Don't believe the lies they push on TV lazy stingy
To the knowledge that was forsaken unto thee
Studied Malcolm's flawless philosophy atrocity
Meet up to him because he was **** 'em
Softly with his words swung his swords
Vocally publically they hate they way he
Told the stories of illusion circling glee
To break the mass confusion
Miseducated the black man understand
Why he gotta bird in his hand but can't
Let go of the drug game stained strained
By the Hollywood fame sting in the ring
See the same madness repeating cleating
To stereotype i break their hype with my mental snipe


Organize a rebellion bloodier than Nate relate
Activate my deepest mind state create
Chaos destiny lays in your fate no hate
Can hold me down feelin' James Brown
A funky drummers bumpin' in the Hummers
Put minds to slumber bring forty summers
In the midst of the winters remember September
Eleven was when I first saw hell inside of heaven
souls still battlin' cuz most folks quick for a tattlin'
I'm rattlin' out the snakes chasing cakes
Beat the breaks of a fake see the steaks
I cook beef chief haters get no relief
Once i puff my green leafs put your beliefs
Body deposited in coffin as a safe box
For death to lock no knocks off time on the door
From the sky to the Earth's core i see more Of wars gore
we deep in the battlefield with sheeps
Wolves come with no dearest warms
Intentions to harm smiling everyday piling
Madness on my plate tryna regulate my state
Of chaos wondering in the land of lost
I found myself sitting at the tables silver cables
Worn on my neck at the order of the peck
Respect what Malcolm and Martin set
The true M&Ms chocolate subliminal
Made a criminal but made heros to
Future millennials every bicentennial
They come out to show out how they plotted the ******
route no doubt
Xan Abyss Oct 2014
Warlord, Captain, ruthless man
With a lust for blood and death
Many died as they looked in his eyes
And drew their final breath
The sea was his and his alone
Ferocious as a storm
He sent so many men below
Nowhere was safe from harm

O, the cursed crimson captain
He ruled the mighty seas
The cursed crimson captain
Brought kingdoms to their knees
The cursed crimson captain
He sailed on winds of dread
Many enemies fought, many enemies fled
For the rest would end up dead!

One night, shining swords were drawn
And clashed in the light of the moon
Deadly was the battle fought
T’was there he met his doom
For he fought with The King’s Commander
The battle proved most fierce
And blood spilled over the Pirate’s hand -
The Commander’s breast was pierced
And as the dead man fell to the deck
The Pirate heard a crack
And he himself was forced to his knees
By the musketball in his back

O, the cursed crimson captain
He ruled the mighty seas
The cursed crimson captain
Brought kingdoms to their knees
The cursed crimson captain
Was slain, yet did not know
Which daft and dastardly ******* cast the stone to claim his throne!

Awoke he did to a room of black
A cell of darkness, windows barred
Enraged he became at the craven attack
That nearly pierced his wicked heart
Lust for vengeance filled his soul
As he stared out of the barred window
Only to see, horrified
His ******, violent, crooked life
His ship was stained with the deepest red
As he sailed on through a sea of dead
And he could hear no other sound
Than the weeping wives of husbands drowned
And as he wept he began to bleed
From his back and from his chest
He grew weary, needed sleep
And turned to see a golden bed

O, the cursed crimson captain
Saw clear his legacy
The cursed crimson captain
Collapsed onto his knees

A bed of gold with silken sheets
It beckoned him without a word
The scenes of death began to fade
And the weeping was no longer heard
As he lay upon the bed
It began to change its shape
And grabbed his arms and legs and head
Until there could be no escape

O, the cursed crimson captain
He ruled the mighty seas
The cursed crimson captain
Brought kingdoms to their knees
The cursed crimson captain
Was a fool to sail indeed
For ****** fame in bloodier ways
And leave naught but a life of evil deeds

The room began to flood
Until it was washed away
To reveal a sea of blue
Reflecting golden rays
And his bed was now a casket
A casket made of gold
And was cast into the water
So deep and dark and cold
And as he closed his eyes
Under the crimson waters
All he could do was pray
That he would be Forgotten.
I wrote this a long time ago, better part of a decade now. Still one of my favorite pieces.
Sag Mar 2016
im not saying i need you but
my headaches get worse when you're not around and the creases in my chapped lips taste slightly bloodier than the cracks of my knuckles and my nails are rugged and angled from my crooked teeth gnawing at the chipped cerulean paint
and i know i always say cerulean wrong because i was never taught how to
and i know i'm clingy and i might love wrong but please forgive me

i was never taught how to
atomic blue Apr 2017
It's hell to be the ones we love.

Daylight shadows disguised in trees
To shadows in curtains blowing in the breeze
While exploring those legs, smooth and long
Your eyes glazed, soothed in songs.
but not in love,
That emotion, needing to be void of.

For it's hell to be the ones we love.
The ones in life we used to adore.
Other stars brighter as days grow darker,
the moon eclipsing the sun before
Thinking together we knew us better
Than anybody who claimed to know us more.
That our closest friend was you a stranger
Was the strangest paradox of life we swore.

It's hell to be the ones we love
That which is born of many hard years
Held to a golden standard above.
Every year together, the bloodier the tears
Tormenting vows, rebelling in actions,
Questioning truths, shaking their fears
Shooting pain killers to dull those emotions,
Then killing those fears as the end nears.

It's hell to be the ones we love.

Enticed by new eyes that glaze in ecstasy
Abandoning old eyes that crave for love.
ej Feb 2015
Find me in the far East with a bow in hand and a tree at my feet and a deer fleeing to the sunrise. I hope to find a way to escape the sun before it overtakes me. The deer seeks light. I seek nonbeing. The tree has been destroyed. The North still governs where I set my feet.

Find me upon layers of ice with an ax in hand and a mammoth at my feet, buried under a million years. I cut through a thousand and then a hundred thousand and then I’m there and my ax is cutting into ancient, frozen blood and my own is flowing and I am dying a million years ago. Snow begins to fall. The million years ago meets the now and I have an adequate grave.

Find me in a casket six feet underground with a rope around my throat in case I escape again. It’s happened twice. This time, when I wake, the rope will secure me and I will not be able to dig myself out. This is good. This is what my family wants. It makes things easier. It’s good.

Find me awake in my casket, hands ****** and lips bloodier. I kiss the silk lining of my coffin and the rope cuts off my breath and my claws cut through the rope and I push forward and wet soil falls into me. It is raining. I escape the graveyard in my white and red and brown suit and I hide in a trash bin before they can find me and **** me and bury me again. This is the eleventh time I’ve escaped. It is the last. My veins are filled with preservative and it is colder and drier but I am alive and that’s all that matters. The sun comes soon. I’m not ready for it.

Find me on desert sands with a rope in hand and a horse nearby, thirsting for the river a mile off. I am mesmerized by an image before me. It shows an island. My mind tells me that the island is where I want to be, so I mount the starving horse and make my way to the island. I am clad in a white and red suit and the horse pales and they call me Death. They call me Death because I scare their children at night and I seek the island that harbors my dreams. I don’t know that the grains of sand beneath the hooves of my horse are lives.

Find me on that island and know that this is my destiny.
nanananana
Taylor Marion Jun 2014
The first sleep on a hospital bed is always so cold underneath my fractured body.
It makes me wonder what story the warmth that once occupied it before is telling,
Or whether or not he is the story being told.
I guess I consider myself lucky to tell my own.

Survival is a funny thing
You either want it or it wants you and luckily when you work together, sometimes you pull through.
Maybe the light can only enter the soul through an open wound.

You told me once,
“Your eyes no longer shine of summer like they used to.”
“Your hands are frozen.”
“Your heart is black.”
You never believed in affliction that ceased to be lethal. 
Anything else, you'd say, is curable.
You witnessed your grandmother suffer slowly;
You watched your mother move on quickly.
“It’s not that hard,” You would say.

Unexpectedly, one day I called.
Finally this time, you answered,
“Hello."
“I took a bullet.” 
Pause.
“I’m on my way.”
You could not have arrived any quicker.

Why does it always take a cut deeper, bloodier than sorrow for you to realize you could be the stitch?
bloodier than rose-tulips,
a longer red than wine on sundays,
deep,deep,deep;
fire, fire, burning souls,
heartbeats harder than death,
indentations of fingernails on wind-chilled hands,
madness, heat, moonbathed hysteria,
cooled by rain,
cooled by lighter flames,
red, crimson, rose,
blood red, love red, death red,
we are red like the fires of below.
a follicle of light is falling
from the house of midnight
troubadours wrap our imagination
in jasmine and other heady fragrances
gypsy eyes steal salt water from tides
and return them to our adjacent lives
keep mustard seeds by the bedside
and burn irises like incense
hours fly by and leave us hurting
like piles of rusted shirts and clothing
her luck has begun to expand
but man still demands his fate
redecorate your cozy cottages
and receive your visitors' disguised hatred
make music burst throughout this garden
as lonely brushstrokes reach out to touch her bottom
i am moving, doing, and having faith only in the theater
she is carrying fetid water with feet bloodier
than those burning skyscrapers bound to her posterior
Natasha K Jan 2015
It is hard to cry
But your cheeks feel better, wetter
And it's hard to scar
But your skin stops getting uglier when bloodier
It is hard to hurt
But peaceful dreaming comes with screaming
And it's hard to
Wake up
And open your mind to this
Andrew Duggan Oct 2017
I was looking for information of any kind
And met a man who said he can contact the dead
Just walking by the hospital
I was ready to leave
“You feel too deeply’
How can I not hear
The sleepless souls
Who lost their shape
Under the weight
Of sins dark shadow
“I haven’t told you anything yet”
Just fragments
Time and future have no image
Not one, of all the people
Challenged the silence

Walking ashes of the dead
Trying to act casual
Now just talking dust
“Can’t you smell the scattered echoes?”
That we should not hear at this time
Is there a bloodier crime

The last fish in the Fen
Wounded all over
I tried not to see
But he was dying

The burnt horizon of the Taihang Mountains
Disappears beyond cold grey winds.

...Your earth. Your river. Your life
I did not ask
Do the dead have names?
Gabriel Mar 2019
Comforted by broken symbols and lost signs

Not even sure how to step down or rewind

Caught blinded by a futile primordial scream

Dropping final seeds into a increasingly bloodier stream

No direction now for the fragile time that never passes

That progression held only for those who act the crassest

Can one balance on the point of needle's tip

How quickly to be skewered for a tiny slip

Diving deep into the guts of investigation

Never thinking of course of consideration

Merely the need for blood on open fangs

Seeing the blackened soul lusting at future's never changed.

How can we breath life into splintered and shattered light

When most people only want to inhale the darkness of the infinite night.
Caleb John Sep 2018
Every day I wake up and put on my armor

I strap my sword to my side

I cling to my shield

As I walk onto the battlefield every day

The enemy whispers in my ear

Everything is hopeless

What's the point?

Just drop your sword and lay down your shield

It doesn't has to get any bloodier then this

That's when I realize that those demons are right

It doesn't have to because my God already won this war

I'm merely pushing forward from victory

So I will raise my shield high

I would rather come die and be brought home on my shield then drop it and run

I will draw my sword

And I will fight until my last breathe

Will you?


I will draw my sword
Blue Dec 2019
empty shells
noisy bells
depression in my own personal hell
devils collecting my kisses, but I wouldn’t dare kiss and tell
my friends eating my flesh so I can become a pretty red rose
my shame breezing into my heart making sure it stays froze
like a bird with a broken wing
I am scared to fly thinking of the cuts it can bring

I have sharpened blades hidden in my jours but I haven’t used them yet
I bought stacks of acid but none are used yet
there’s a rope tied to the ceiling but I haven’t hung myself yet

secrets that won’t let me live simply
can’t tell anyone even the ones I love dearly
my prayers that only get lost in letters
my cries that turns bloodier
this poison only gets worse day by day
as I wake up each morning telling everyone I’m okay
O SAY CAN YOU SEE

by

TOD HOWARD HAWKS


For Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.


Chapter 1

"Would you like another one?," ask the waitress.

"Sure," said Charlie Cumberston.

The band was playing "MOOD INDIGO" then "STRANGE FRUIT."
Charlie loved jazz. He also loved baseball, which was why he also brought THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF BASEBALL with him to the Village Vanguard every night. And he was passionate about art.

The waitress brought back another Scotch and Soda.

"Thanks," said Charlie.

The Village Vanguard was his home every night since the CIA made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

"You simply know too much. If the wrong people find you, they'll want to know everything you know. If you don't cooperate, they'll stick a barrel of a gun into your mouth and pulled the trigger!"

Charlie had graduated from Columbia College, Columbia University in 1963. He wanted excitement and chose the CIA. He was smart as hell. He quickly ascended to the top tier and was sent to Saigon a year-and-a-half later. During the Tet Offensive in 1968, Charlie was severely wounded. That's when he met Anh, his nurse.

While sipping his Scotch and Soda, he picked up his THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF BASEBALL to read again about Willie Mays. Mickey Mantle, Ted Williams, Sandy Koufax and many others.

Now the band was playing TAKE FIVE followed by ROUND MIDNIGHT.

The waitress came again to Charlie's table again.

"Would you like another one?" she asked.

"Please," said Charlie.

This was how every evening went from 7 to midnight.

"It's time to go," said Sid.

Sid's job was to pick him up in the limousine at the Waldorf Astoria at 6:45, drive him to the Village Vanguard, then around 11:45 drive him back to the Waldorf. This was Sid's job, seven nights a week.

While he never got drunk from drinking too many Scotch and Sodas, the drinks always made Charlie a bit more than loose. As he entered the limousine, he nevertheless always thought of Anh.


Chapter 2

Sid picked up Charlie at 6:45 at the Waldorf and drove to the Village Voice. Even at 7 the place was packed, but that table, that same table, was always waiting for him.

"Good Evening," Charlie always said to the waitress.

"Would you like a Scotch and Soda?" said the waitress.

"Yes, please," said Charlie. Drinking Scotch and Sodas the rest of his life was better than being thrown into the East River from the Queensboro Bridge with a bullet hole in his forehead, thought Charlie.

The band was playing TAKE THE A TRAIN then MY FAVORITE THINGS.

But Charlie was thinking of a different trip, the trip to Saigon. The machine-gun fire he suffered during the Tet Offensive almost took his life. But Ahn, his nurse, saved his life. As the months passed, Charlie grew increasingly fond of her, and she of him, until fondness became love for both of them. But their love for each other was truncated a few weeks after his release from the Saigon hospital because the U.S. ARMY was going to send him back to the USA to to recover fully. But during those few weeks, Anh and Charlie made love, not only physically, but also spiritually, every nanosecond they could.

"Would you like another one?" said the waitress.

"Please," said Charlie.

The band was now playing SO WHAT then ALL BLUES.

Often, despite the music and drinks, Charlie would slide into memories of atrocities committed by U.S. armed forces during the Vietnam War, some in person, others written up by CIA personnel of which he was apart. The most infamous was the My Lai massacre.

On March 16, 1968, American soldiers brutally murdered in only 4 hours over 500 unarmed civilians including women, children, and old men in the village of My Lai in South Vietnam. American soldiers even took time out to eat lunch. The victims were *****, mutilated, and burned. William Calley, Jr. was convicted by court-marshal of the ****** of 22 unarmed South Vietnamese civilians. He was initially sentenced to life imprisonment with hard labor, then commuted to 20 years, then commuted to 10 years, then commuted to 3 years of house arrest by President Nixon.

"Body Count" became de rigueur. Civilians killed were added to the total of Viet Cong soldiers killed. Competitions were held between units to see which one killed the most Viet Cong. Rewards for the "winners" were days off or an extra case of beer. At this time, much of these activities went unreported, but not unnoticed.

"**** anything that moves!" That became the sine qua non of many commanders whose troops then carried out massacres in their area of operations.

Few war crime investigations were completed by the military at the
U.S. National Archives. The amount of munitions used by American soldiers was 26 times was greater than in WWII. America had unleashed the equivalent of 640 Hiroshima-sized atomic bombs on Vietnam. Two million civilian Vietnamese were killed and 5.3 million were injured. Far bloodier operations like "Speedy Express" should have been exposed but were hidden by the highest levels of the U.S. military. Years later, it was found that this operation killed 11,000 Viet Cong.

"Charlie....  Charlie, are you OK?," said the waitress as she placed the Scotch and Soda in front of him.

"O yes, I am. I was just ruminating," said Charlie.


Chapter 3

Charlie was dreaming about Anh. Would it not be heavenly to have her lying beside him? The Waldorf would not matter. It could be anywhere in the Cosmos. Her scent, her breathing, even the shadow of her lissome body against the large window would arouse him.

"Kiss me. Kiss me again," she would say in his dream. No more war. No more killing. No more massacres. Just love.

The moment Charlie saw her in the hospital, he fell in love with her. Though it took months for him to heal, it was Anh who healed him. Her smile, her touch, her just standing beside his bed made him heal more each day.

When Charlie was released from the hospital, Anh and he made love many times each night. Charlie remembered those nights again and again in his dreams. But when he learned he had to return to Langley and had to tell Anh, tears flowed, flowed so much it awakened him. Charlie had been crying while dreaming. He sat on the edge of his bed bawling for over an hour.


Chapter 4

Another day, another night Charlie had endured.

Sid picked him up at 6:45 and took him to the Village Vanguard. His table was waiting.

This routine lasted 5 more months, but on the night of May 4th, the improbable occurred.

Could it be true?, thought Charlie. Could it be real? What he saw across the room were two young women sitting at a table, one of whom he recognized. It was Anh.

Charlie's heart was pounding, his breathing a tsunami. He sat at his table declining Scotch and Sodas. He didn't recognize the tune the band was playing. He was in shock.

It took almost an hour for Charlie to recover. It was Anh. By now, he was sure of it. Finally, he got up from his table and walked slowly toward Anh. When he reached her table, he said, "Excuse me, but aren't you Anh?

Anh looked up and saw Charlie, then said "Aren't you Charlie?

Charlie said, "Yes."

Anh was stunned. Now two hearts were pounding, their breathings a torrid tornado.

Anh asked her girlfriend would she be okay if she left their table to speak to this gentleman.

"Of course," she said.

Anh and Charlie, therefore, walked to an empty table and sat down.

Anh said, "I thought I'd never see you again." "That's what I thought, too," said Charlie. "What are you doing in New York City?"

"I'm doing post-graduate study in nursing at NYU, but it's summer vacation. And you?"

"That's a long story, Anh," said Charlie.

"I'd like to hear your story," said Anh.

"Are you married?" asked Charlie.

"No, I'm not," said Anh. "Are you?"

"Neither am I," said Charlie. "You saved my life, Anh."

Charlie's remark pierced her heart. Anh's face flushed.

"I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. You healed me," said Charlie.

Charlie said he really wanted to tell her his story, but it would have to be in private. He told Anh he was staying at the Waldorf Astoria, room 719.

"Might you feel comfortable enough to spend the night with me?" said Charlie.

"I'd love to," said Anh.

Charlie's heart started pounding again.


Chapter 5

"Let me just hug you forever," said Charlie.

They just fell onto the bed fully clothed. The room was lit by the night's city lights.

"I couldn't tell you this when we first met. Though I wore a military uniform, the uniform was my cover. I worked at the highest level of the CIA in Saigon. During the Tet Offensive, I was severely wounded and met you when I was hospitalized. When I first met you--even before we first had spoken to each other--I had instantly fallen in love with you," said Charlie.

"Oh, Charlie!", said Anh as she first hugged him even more strongly, then gave him a long kiss.

The talked long into the night, about the past, about the present, about the future.

"T have an idea. First, I must adhere to the mandatory routine forced upon me; otherwise, I will be killed. The good news is that the routine is, in my opinion, lax. My routine is that Sid will pick me up at the Waldorf every evening at 6:45 and drive me to the Village Vanguard where I am to stay until closing time, which is midnight. Then Sid drives me back to the Waldorf. That's it. The way I see it is that from midnight to 6:45 pm the following day, I'm a free man. I've been doing this for years and I've never been checked on, Anh. Furthermore, I need to keep you safe. What do you think?" said Charlie.

"I think both of us will be safe," said Anh.

"If so, we would be able to spend the night together, as well as the rest of the following day, say until 4 pm," said Charlie.

"I agree," said Anh.

"Do you remember telling you I'm passionate about art?" said Charlie.

"Yes, I do remember your sharing that with me," said Anh.

"Well, New York City abounds with art, and you and I can begin to share this beauty tomorrow," said Charlie.

"You're right!" said Anh as she put her arms around around his neck, kissed him, then the two made love as the sun began to rise.


Chapter 6

"Good morning, Anh," said Charlie.

"Good morning to you!" said Anh.

"I'd like to take you to eat breakfast at Tom's, my old haunt when I was a student at Columbia. Then we can take a cab to the Met, as it is often called, to see some of the most beautiful art in the world," said Charlie.

"That sounds wonderful!" said Anh.

Anh showered first, then Charlie.

After both were dressed, Charlie said "Are you ready to head out?

"Yes, I am," replied Anh.

Charlie hailed a cab in front of the Waldorf and asked the cabbie to take them to 112th and Broadway where Tom's was.

"Here," Charlie said, "keep the change."

Tom's, while remodeled, was still Tom's, the same food, the same ambience.
Anh and Charlie ate a full, tasty breakfast.

"Are you ready now to see great art?" Charlie said to Anh.

"I'm ready," said Anh.

Charlie hailed a cab on the corner of 112th and Broadway, and off they went.


Chapter 7

The cab dropped off Anh and Charlie in front of the Met.

"The first piece I want to share with you is my favorite:  Renoir's STILL LIFE WITH PEACHES. It's in the Impressionist Wing," said Charlie.

"Wonderful!" said Anh.

"Well, there it is. I have come to this spot many times and have been transfixed every time I have seen this painting," said Charlie.

"It's beautiful, Charlie," said Anh.

The two stood silently in front of the painting for about 20 minutes.

"It matters not to me how many times I see it nor how long I gaze at it," Charlie said, "I am mesmerized."

Anh and Charlie spent almost an hour in the Impressionist Wing taking in the beauty:  IMPRESSION, SUNRISE by Monet;  LUNCHEON OF THE BOATING PARTY by Renoir;  Le Dejeuner sur l'herbe by Manet;  SUNDAY AFTERNOON BY THE ISLAND ON LA GRAND JATTE by SEURAT, for example.

Other famous paintings:  JULIE LE BRUN LOOKING IN A MIIRROR by Brun;  WASHINGTON CROSSING THE DELAWARE by Leutze;  THE DEATH OF SOCRATES by David;  THE GULF STREAM by Homer;  THE DANCE CLASS by Degas;  BRIDGE OVER A POND OF WATER LILLES by Monet;  SELF PORTRAIT WITH STRAW HAT by Van Gogh;  MUSCIANS by Carravaggio;  PORTRAIT OF A WOMAN WITH A MAN AT A CASEMENT by Lippi;  STUDY OF A WOMAN by Vermeer;  YOUNG MOTHER SEWING by Cassatt.

Charlie knew that it would take a visitor around three hours if she/he simply walked by, but never stopped at, any of the works in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He knew it, because he had done it himself.

"I'd like to take you to Titiana, famous for its Cairibbean food. It's In David Geffen Hall, part of Lincoln Center. You remember I have to be back to the Waldorf around 6:30 pm so Sid can pick me up at 6:45 so I can arrive at Village Vanguard at 7, right? You have your own key to our room, so keep it with you at all times. I'm sure you'd like to lie down and rest, then freshen up. Here's some money to pay for your cab. Come to the Village Vanguard whenever you like. I love you, Anh," said Charlie.

The two took a cab to Lincoln Center. The maitre'd of the Titiana took them to their table. Anh and Charlie perused their menus.

"I'd like to start with Corn Bread;  Honeynut Piri Piri Salad (Persian Cucumber, Seasonal Grapes, Crispy Quinoa);  Egusi Dumplings (Jonag Crab, Nigerian Red Stew, Pickled Pearl Onion);  and the Bodega Special (Cosmic Brownie, Powdered Sugar Donut Ice Cream, Sorrel), please," said Anh.

Charlie said, "I would like Fried Branzino (Rice & Peas, Cilantro. Onion);  Braized Oxtails (Rice & Peas, Thumberlina Carrot, Chayote Squash);  Hamachi Escovitch (Avocado, Carrot Nage, Marinated Peppers)
and Golden *** Cake, please."

"And what would you both like to drink?" asked the waiter?

"You don't drink alcohol, right Anh?" said Charlie,

"You're right, Charlie," said Anh. "I'll just have ice tea."

"I'm just going to have ice tea, too," said Charlie.

"Well, we've had a full day, Anh, and the day isn't over, is it?" said Charlie. "I think I'm going to give up alcohol now that you've made my life worth living."

"Bless you, Charlie," said Anh.


Chapter 8

The next day, Anh and Charlie visited MoMA (The Museum of Modern Art).

The following were their favorites:  THE STARRY NIGHT by van Gogh;  LES DEMOISELLES d'AVIGNON by Picasso;  CHRISTIAN'S WORLD by Wyeth;  THE BATHER by Cezanne;  THE PIANO LESSON by Matisse;  THE MOON AND THE EARTH by Gauguin;  SEATED BATHER by Picasso;  FULANG-CHANG AND I by Kahlo;  and GIRL WITH BALL by Lichtenstein.

Anh and Charlie ate a nice meal at the The Capital Grille, then returned to the Waldorf to rest. But before resting, they couldn't resist making love, then fell asleep in each other's arms. The alarm clock went off at 5:30 and at 6:45 Sid pick them up and took them to the Village Vanguard arriving at 7.

Charlie's table was waiting, as always.

"We'd both like ice tea," said Charlie to the waitress.

The band was playing ROUND MIDNIGHT then WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD.

"Anh, being with you is my dream come true," said Charlie. Anh grabbed Charlie's hand and squeezed it.

"I could have attended any university in America, but I chose NYU," said Anh, "and New York City was the only city in America where I could possibly find you!" Anh squeezed Charlie's hand a little harder.

"I have dreamed of you every night since I left Saigon.The odds of us every seeing each other again were incalculable, but it happened. Do you sense it was by chance? I think it was meant to be," Charlie said as he took Anh's other hand and kissed it.

The band was now playing THE GIRL FROM IPANEMA.  No, Charlie thought, the band was now playing THE GIRL FROM SAIGON.

"We have a chance to see the world by seeing New York City, Anh!" said Charlie.

"How wonderful!" said Anh.


Chapter 9

Anh and Charlie at breakfast at Jams, then took a cab to the Whitney Museum of American Art.

Charlie's favorite American artist was Edward Hopper, and while the Art Institute of Chicago had Hopper's most famous work, NIGHTHAWKS, in its collection, The Whitney had the most. Charlie wanted to concentrate on all the Hopper paintings.

The Hopper paintings:  CAPE COD BAY;  MASS OF TREES AT EASTMAN;  ROAD AND ROCKS;  A WOMAN IN THE SUN;  SECOND STORY SUNLIGHT;  SOUTH CAROLINA MORNING:  THE SOURCE OF ALL VIOLENCE, MY UNSEEN FATHER-IN-LAW;  STAIRWAY;   SEVEN A.M.;  ROOFS, SATILLO;  JO IN WYOMING:  SLOPES OF THE TETON;  EL PALACIO;  JO HOPPER;  SELF-PORTRAIT (I);  SELF-PORTRAIT (II);  SATILLO, MEXICO;  a ma femme-jour de naissance;  EARLY SUNDAY MORNING;  LIGHT AT TWO LIGHTS;  TWO ON THE AISLE;  NIGHT WINDOWS;  ROAD IN MAINE;  AMERICAN VILLAGE;  THE WINDOW;  THE HORIZONTAL CITY;  WASHINGTON SQUARE;  THEATER;  REALITY AND FANTASY;  HEAD OF A MAN;  MAN WITH BEARD; NEW YORK MOVIE;  AUTOMAT;  TABLE FOR LADIES;  GIRL AT A SEWING MACHINE;  CHOP SUEY;  FROM WILLIAMSBURG BRIDGE;  HOTEL LOBBY;  and  OFFICE IN A SMALL CITY.

Charlie suggested the two ate at the GRAND CENTRAL OYSTER BAR. Anh said she loved seafood. A cab took them there quickly.

Anh said "I would like OYSTERS ON THE HALF SHELL, A CUP OF CLAM CHOWDER, MUSSELS, AND A SLICE OF KEY LIME PIE, please."

"I would like please OYSTERS ROCKEFELLER, LOBSTER BISQUE, and a good, old-fashion SHRIMP COCKTAIL. We both would like ice tea," said
Charlie.

Their dinners were delicious. They took a cab back to the Waldorf in time to meet Sid who got them to the Village Vanguard by 7.


Chapter 10

In the ensuing summer months, Anh and Charlie continued their seemingly endless exploration of New York City and, at the same time, adhered to their required nightly visits to the Village Vanguard. Over this time, the two enjoyed a cruise around the Statue Of Liberty, going to the top of the Empire State Building, visiting Ellis Island, walking tours of Chinatown and Little Italy, taking the New York Helicopter Tour, experiencing the Central Park Carriage Horse tour, and enjoying the Manhattan Island cruise.

And late afternoons, Anh and Charlie continued to eat among the best restaurants in the world:  OLIO E PIU;  BOUCHIERE UNION
SQUARE;  ELEVEN MADISON PARK;  BALTHAZAR;  GRAMERCY TAVERN;  THE MODERN;  UPLAND;  VIA CAROTA;  LE BERNARDIN;  PICCOLA CUCINA OSTERIA;  SCILLIANA; BOUCHERIE WEST VILLIAGE;  SCHUTTE;  GABRIEL KREUTHER;  FREVO, ATERA;  ESTELLA;  KOCHI;  LE COUCOU;  TAO;  COTE;  PETITE BOUCHERIE;  AMAVI; MANHATTA;  BLUE RIBBON BRASSERI;  1803 NYC;  MINETTA TAVERN;  SCARPETTA; CRAFT;  CROWN SHY;  HEARTH;  CHAMA MAMA;  FORGIONE;  TSUIMI;  PER SI;  CLOVER HILL; ASKA;
DANIEL;  JUNGSIK;  AQUAVIT;  ICCA;  MASA;  SUSHI NAKA-
SAWA;  GRAMERCY TAVERN;  LE PAVILLON;  LE JANDINIER;  
63 CLINTON;  AL CORO;  COTE;  OIJI MI;  JEAN-GEORGES;
DON ANGIE;  ONE WHITE STREET;  VESTRY;  THE MUSKET ROOM;  o.d.o.;  CLARO;  SUSHI NOZ;  ESTELLA;  SAGA;  SEMMA; L'ABEILLE;  NOZ 17;  SUHI GINZA ONODERA;  and THE RIVER CAFE.


It was a mid-August early evening as Anh and Charlie lay curled up naked under the white linen sheet.

"Anh, I love you. I will always love you. I want us to share the rest of our lives with each other. And if you feel as I do, I need to tell you that I feel each of us must be prepared to do the right thing, not only for each other, but also for all others.

"I worked for the CIA, and I know it does not always work for all people. I do not want to be a prisoner of the CIA for the rest of my life, and I don't want the woman I love also to be their prisoner.

"Anh, I love you. I will always love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And if you feel the same toward me, you'll need to know fully what both of us will need to do for the rest of our lives:  SPEAK THE TRUTH. These months I've shared with you have made me realize I cannot go on covering for the CIA and its related agencies and covert, deadly operations. If I cannot love you openly, if I cannot propose to you to be my wife, I would rather be dead. If you cannot run the same risks as I, I'll grieve greatly but understand and respect your feelings," finished Charlie.

"I would rather die than not to love you the rest of my life," said Anh.


Chapter 11

Charlie knew them all, from Haiti onward, but let's start with the OSS of WW11 becoming the CIA.

The CIA was supposed to behave legally, but it didn't always do that. Take, for example, assassination and torture, but don't tell Congress about them. If a foreign country smacked of communist leanings, the CIA needed to "redirect" it, even if its leader had been elected democratically. What else comes to mind? Of course, domestic wiretapping;  manipulation of media;   extraordinary renditions;  secret prisons run by the CIA on foreign soil;  "enhanced interrogation" (torture);  support of dictators in Latin America;  recruiting Nazis as spies;  sales of arms to nations under embargo;  CIA involved in global drug trafficking;  collecting data on Americans without warrants;  and mind control experiments. It took a lot of practice to do all of them well.


Chapter 12

"This is Charlie Cumberston calling for Senator Peterson," said Charlie.

"Just a moment, please," said the secretary.

"Charlie, you old dog!" said John. "We haven't spoken for a hell of a long time! How have you been?"

"That's a long story, Will," said Charlie, "but in truth I need to speak to you in private. It's a life-or-death matter, Will."

There was a long pause.

Charlie and Will were both Nacoms at Columbia, but though Will was considerably older than Charlie, they had become best friends. Will was now the youngest U.S. Senator. After law school, he and his wife, Marilyn, a Barnard graduate, had moved to Boulder, CO where he was elected U.S. Senator on his first try.

"I've been in New York City. I wonder if there is any possibility you might be able to take the shuttle to NYC to talk with me. I need your help," said Charlie.

"Charlie, if you think I could be of help to you, I will find a way to see and talk with you. I'll get back to you pronto." said Will.

"God bless you, Will," said Charlie.

The two exchanged the necessary contact information. Will told Charlie he thought he could get back to him in a day or two, if not sooner.

In early afternoon of the second day, Charlie heard a knock on his door. It was Will.

Charlie opened the door.  "Will, God bless you! Thanks for coming up. Take a seat at the table."

"Will, you know me well," said Charlie. "After Columbia, I joined the CIA. I wanted to honor my country. After intense training, I was sent to Saigon in early '65. During the Tet Offensive, I was wounded severely. I was in the hospital a year. I almost died, but Anh saved me. She was my nurse. I fell in love with her. I had a month before I was to be flown back to the U.S. and it was during that month that I knew I wanted to marry her. When I got back to Langley, they told me I knew too much about the OSS to the present, and if I divulged any iota from the past to the present, I would be "eliminated." I knew they meant what they said. So I agreed to be put up at the Waldorf Astoria and be taken to the Village Vanguard every evening. That was going to be the rest of my life--that is, until I had the unbelievable fortune of meeting Anh in New York City. My dilemma is I know I can't marry Anh now. Anh feels the same as I do. I wish to be remembered as an honorable man. I wish to speak to the world from the podium of the UN General Assembly to tell the billions on Earth the truth and ask all for their forgiveness. You are now the new U.S. Senator from Colorado.  You are an honorable man. The people who voted for you know that. Your fellow Senators will increasingly know that. My advice to you, Will, is do what you think is right. Thanks for hearing me out."

"I will tell the truth," said Will. Will said he would let Charlie know the outcome as soon as he could. The two shook hands and left the restaurant together.


Chapter 13

A week went by and then another. To say both Charlie and Anh were torn was an understatement. Then on the morning of Tuesday of the third week, Will called.

"I have great news for you, Charlie! You've won your battle! You need to prepare your remarks you will share with all the ambassadors and, indeed, the world." said an exuberant Will.

"I can't thank you enough, Will," said Charlie. "I can't thank you enough!"

As soon as Charlie hung up, he picked up Anh and swirled her around and around.

"I will share my remarks with all the ambassadors and the rest of the world," said Charlie, then picked Anh up and gave her a hug and a kiss in mid-air that lasted at least a minute, maybe two.


Chapter 14

"The irony is nobody had the guts to do what you have done, Charlie," said Will. "You have broken things wide open. Now Earth, and every living thing on it, has a chance not only to survive, but also to prosper. I met with U.S. Ambassador Wilson and told him everything. In turn, he spoke first with ambassadors who were his friends who, in turn, spoke with their ambassador friends. This has just spread like wildfire, Charlie. It's amazing!"

"Thanks, Will," said Charlie. "Now my life has meaning. And if this has wheels, we can change the UN Building to the US Building, as in "us, not them."

"That's brilliant, Charlie!" said Will.

After the two men finished their lunches at the 1789 Restaurant in Georgetown, they gave each other a big hug and shock hands.
Anh was taking a nap at the Willard.

"World peace is now the sine qua non for life on Earth," said Will. "Thanks for emailing all your brilliant ideas, Charlie," said Will. "All nations, including the most autocratic ones, see the inescapability of having to form a world union. You are the savior, my friend."

Will continued. "Monday, I will begin to talk to ambassadors. Those will speak to others, and so on. You said there is only one land, one sky, one sea, one people. The boundaries that divided us are not on maps, but in our hearts and minds. Either we will survive as one because of a successful, gargantuan effort to make world peace, or billions will die in minutes. Those are your words, Charlie. Those are your words."

Charlie said "I want to talk with my 8 billion friends on Earth. I will say first that it is an honor to speak to my sisters and brothers. I am overjoyed that I'll meet many of you. I will need to hear your heartaches and hopes to make Earth our home. I will help people realize their real selves. I will help people see what truth is and what it is not. I'll encourage them with love. I will tell them their inner-greatness is inviolable. Corrupt politicians aggrandize power to oppress others, not to empower them. I will die for humanity, but I will never **** anyone."

The ambassadors were in a frenzy for two weeks, communicating with their superiors in their home countries, garnering their approvals, getting ready for Charlie's momentous announcement to the world in the "US Building."
Alastur Berit Nov 2023
You’re sneaking drinks



Again.


Please don’t keep on
With the wine bottles under the sink
Bloodier than any imagery
In the Shining
Flooding through our lives
Drowning us in solemnity
Tangible and heavy and soggy and moist
You said you won’t

Here comes my fall
Clinging to your lifeboat words
Trust
A precarious thing
Toppling in a rogue wave
Washed deep underneath
Unfathomable pressure
I’m running out
of air.
Blue Dec 2019
You hide behind me as your mask
cause I make all your nightmares disappear fast
as blood drops when i slice through your finger
you rage in your anger
once I curve pictures that are bloodier
it silence all the whispers
you lead me through the red lines deeper and deeper into your veins
as I guide you further and further through the demons lane
when your shame makes your mind mental
that’s when I’ll slit open your vessel
as painful tears starts pouring from your eyes, I’ll violently ram into your bones
in a dark room you’ll tell your dark secrets to me and my clones
your wishes didn’t come true that you had begged upon the stars
I think that’s when you started your collection of blood of jars
you tell me stories that I’ll beautifully split people eyeballs
people who calls you ugly, people who calls you a freak, people who calls you crazy
I rip your skin to little itty bitty pieces so you could feel alive
but truth is, you’ve already died
I fight your battles
cause I’ve made all your cells unstable
in the cabins I am sealed away
as you go out to the world telling everyone your okay..
LB Jul 2020
A common story for Boys
Brothers and husbands
Emotional   Blockage
Like an ingrown toenail
Bloodier every step, concealed by
A sock
Like a rock
On a pond, skips   far    far    away
from the sender  
To stink
             deep
                              deep
                             ­                      down
Join the other stones and sticks
Create a *******, ****
Toenails shred through socks,
Nails turn to razors, soon cutting up shoes,
saws will shred jeans, chainsaws through chests,
Then bullets through heads.

— The End —