K is for Kenneth

K is for Kenneth who thought guns were a toy

We all grow up at some point and upon looking back at our childhood shudder at one particular moment we wish we knew better.  For Kenneth it was the day his little brother asked him to play cops and robbers.

I should probably preface this by saying Kenneth's father was anything but a cop. In fact, the only cops Kenneth ever saw were dragging his father out of the house by his collar at least once a month. His crimes ranged in intensity but he always seemed to slip right through the fingers of the police and end up right back where he started, drinking on the living room couch.

Kenneth's father had a "special room". One the boys were never allowed to go into, and to make sure of this it was locked up and bolted closed.  Kenneth had never seen the door open and had always just assumed he would never see the inside.  He fantisised about puppies and kittens and all the toys his father must be keeping from him.  Maybe even his mom! He did hear someone crying in there from time to time.

On this particular day Kenneth's father had been dragged away again and his grandmother had come to visit.  In his rushed exit from the home Kenneth's father had forgotten to lock his "special room".  The door was open just a crack and Kenneth and his brother could not wait to find the puppies and presents their father kept hidden in there.  Much to their delight the room was full of all kinds of toys ripe for the picking.

It was Kenneth's turn to be a cop this time.  His little brother always cried about being the bad guy but this time Kenneth would not give in.  He pulled the shiniest toy off of the shelf and took careful aim at his brother.  "Stop!" he shouted as his brother started to run.  In a split second he made the decision to pull the trigger, thinking like all his other toys there would be a pop and a whoosh and maybe some water.  Oh how wrong he was.

There was a pop all right.  A pop and a woosh and red water all over the floor. Grandma came running and all Kenneth could do was stand there in shock.  The cops came and snatched Kenneth up by his collar and took him away.

He always looked back on that day and wondered if he could have changed anything. Should they have left the room alone? Should they have just gone outside? Should he have told the police about his mother? After all she was the one who told him this was all just a game.

J is for Jasmine

J is for Jasmine who was nailed by a peg

J is for Jasmine who was nailed by a peg
To the wall of her classroom by her little left leg
For speaking out of turn and causing a fright
When she said "there's a ghost" as she turned off the light

I is for Isaac

I is for Isaac who was missing a leg

Young Isaac was an excellent swimmer
He could beat any of the local kids in a race with ease
Even with his severe disadvantage
He lost his leg to a shark in the seas

H is for Henrietta

H is for Henrietta who 's mom still hears her cries

Losing a child is never easy
Especially when you can still hear them crying from inside the toy chest

G is for Gilbert

G is for Gilbert who was eaten by flies

Gilbert liked honey and sweeties and cake
So much so he surrounded himself in goodies piled high
Thats why no one noticed him when he went missing
The smell was hidden by sweeties and he was devoured by flies

F is for Frannie

F is for Frannie who fell in the moat

Frannie was the smallest of her seven siblings.  Now, you may think that growing up in a castle with six other siblings would be great. Always having a partner to play hide and seek with, always having someone to play tag with. And it was great. Trust me it was lovely. Most of the time. Now the kids favorite game was truth or dare. The would always get into such mischief and stories would be told and the victor had bragging rights for a whole week. As time went on there were less truths and more dares and the dares got bigger and bolder and more dangerous until one day Frannie was given the scariest dare of all. Stand on the top of the wall around the castle, spread your arms, and call to the guards that you were as fearless as a phoenix! Frannie stood tall and brave and in her best gown she spread her arms wide. Just as a gust of wind came out of nowhere and took poor Frannie over the edge. Everything is alright though, There are still six more children left to play with.

E is for Earl

E is for Earl who was haunted by ghosts

Earl was always a clever child. He would notice things others didn't and could never understand why his parents were so angry whenever he told them what he saw.  They were even more furious when he told them he saw grandpa hanging about in the garden. The called him a liar and sent him to talk to a man with a clipboard. The man never spoke but wrote everything Earl said down and then sent him on his way.  A few weeks after his visit Earl was visited by a tall man with a badge. His parents looked on with scowls and anger as their son refused to tell the man the stories that he told them.

After his meeting with the tall man he realized that his talent of observation was something he should keep to himself. He stopped telling people the things he saw and he started to make friends at school. Even his parents were surprised at the changes in him and they were thrilled when he made all A's on his report cards. He was brilliant and driven and always knew the answer before anyone else. He decided to be a police officer so he could use his talents to help people and was promoted to detective within no time.

Now all this time his parents still refused to talk about his particular set of skills. They slowly cut off all contact with their son, fearing he was cursed by the devil and would bring them harm. They hadn't spoken to their son in years and he made no effort to convince them otherwise. That is until the day his mother showed up at the foot of his bed. She was yelling and cursing and full of that same rage he saw as a child. All of which he ignored of course. After all, he had been waiting for this day for a while now. He was wondering when his grandfather would stop digging around in the garden and come inside for a chat. He had always been good at giving Earl friends to play with.

D is for Devon

D is for Devon who started to smell

All little boys around the age of thirteen
Develop a smell which is slightly obscene
But poor little Devon was cursed with a smell
Much like that of Colette who was found in the well

C is for Colette

C is for Colette who was found in a well

Colette was a very curious lass
She was always in trouble and always a mess
She would flitter and flutter and scamper about
Forever in hiding, of that we don't doubt
She was so very good at the game hide and seek
One time she was hidden for nearly a week
She was found by the gardener when he was struck by a smell
She had hidden and drowned in the family's well

B is for Brad

B is for Brad who fell of the stage during ballet

Brad was always a little... off, for he liked things the other girls liked and shied away from anything to do with sports and "manly" things that he was supposed to love.  His parents, desperate to break him of his tendencies, put him in football and he fell to his knees. Brad was bullied relentlessly until the day, he found out that ballet can help you on the field and help him to play.  He convinced his parents of this fact and was soon dancing circles around the other girls in his class. He secretly quit football and spent all of his time, twirling and jumping and perfecting his new passion of rhythm and rhyme.  So much so that the lead in the first production of the year, was all his and his alone and he could not believe his ears. This fact was not lost on the girls who had spent years, dancing and spinning and jumping to get that spot they revered.  They devised a plan, a devious plan, to make sure this never happened to them again.  Once the curtain lifted and the music began, they all rushed to the front and right behind Brad, who was spinning and jumping and completely unaware the they were the foxes and he was the hare. His foot slipped when he opened his eyes, and saw them all around , he'd discovered their lies. Poor Brad just fell and with a sickening thud, he hit the ground with a vengeance and their battle was won. Everyone stopped to see if he was okay, and of course he was bleeding and broken and sprained. He was carried away and he never forgot, that he was the hare and never the fox.

A is for Annabelle

A is for Annabelle who floated away

Annabelle loved everything to do with the sky.
Always wanting to be a bird and explore the horizon..
So one day she took a chair and some weather balloons
And floated away one sunny June afternoon

A Collective Serialization of Unforseen Atrocities

Here it is guys! 

The title of my new series!

Can you tell I'm a tad bit excited?

A very good friend of mine came up with the original title (which I tweaked, sorry Jess!) and I am going to be posting the content once a day throughout the month of October, so keep a look out!

Hello Darlings

I am starting a new challenge for myself!  

One story or poem or song a day for you guys in the month of October! 

If anyone has any suggestions on content (I wanted to do my own version of the creepy ABC's) I would love to hear it.  

See you guys in a few weeks!

Reconnecting

Reconnecting

Three years have come and gone

Seasons passed

Birthdays came and went

Weddings happened and life moved forward

But I still missed you

Three years have passed

I am no longer angry

No longer sad

I have moved on in my life past whatever was holding me down

Yet I still missed you

Three years went by

I made new friends

Moved hours away

Became a new person

Damnit I still missed you

So three years later

Some liquid courage in my blood

I told you that I was sorry and missed you

To my complete surprise

You told me you missed me too

Now here we are three years later

Acting like old friends

Catching up on the last three years

Like it was just yesterday 

I've missed you

Three years ago I parted ways with my best friend.  Two days ago we reconnected. It feels wonderful.

My Author

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My Author

Who am I to question my author?
The person who writes my story
On the days my life passes in  a blur, those are the days that start with "and three weeks later she still couldn't shake the feeling"
The slow says are when my story is written
You know those days
The ones where time stands still
Where your biggest moments happen
Where you think "How did this happen to me? Why me?"
That's your author writing the heart of your story
My story
So tell me
Who am I to question my author?

Here's the first poem on the revised It's Poker Dollface.  I hope you enjoy it.  Next to come is a short story series so stay tuned!

Flamed Lovers

Flamed Lovers

Once upon a time a match fell in love with a flame

He would wait all day to see her flicker in the night                 

He longed to be with her and knew she felt the same though she never spoke spoke a word

One day he had an idea how they could be together

He spent all day soaking in a bowl of water

Waiting for night time to fall so he could finally love her

But alas

The one thing he never knew was that all this time he was waterproof

And the minute he came close to her he lit up just the same

This is only one of the first of many posts to come in this Tim Burton-esque style.  A little macabre, a little cute, and it always leaves an impression.

Twice Hands

Twice Hands

Once upon a time a little boy was born

He was not like any other boy though

You see he had hands twice as big as every other boy and feet twice as small

He was teased all day and night and never allowed to play with the other kids

Racing Thoughts

I had a little moment of creativity here so I decided to share a poem with you guys

Racing Thoughts

Beating faster

Out of control

On the verge of a breakdown I can’t yet vocalize

Ready to fall to my knees from the strain of holding myself together one more moment

Triplets

Triplets

SarahAnne MaryAnne and Clara were sisters

SarahAnne was the pretty one

With hair of gold and the laughter of an angel

MaryAnne was the smart one

She had prizes and scholarships and always knew the right answer

Clara was really born Thomas

She was the favorite

Thumblings

Thumblings

Hiding behind your dresser drawer

Buried among the socks you thought you lost in your dresser

Is a Thumbling

Hoarding your loose change

Your spare keys and your lost baubles

He waits for you to turn around

So he can “borrow” things he knows you need

But don’t worry, you’ll never see him

Frankly you would never want to

The minute you go near him he makes you forget what you were doing.

Ever wonder why you walk into a room and forget why you were there?

You probably stepped too close to the Thumbling trying to borrow your remote

Next time you go out you may want to get a fish

I hear they hate fish

Introductions Please

Welcome Everyone!!!

This little piece of the internet is just one more extenuation of my current blog : Its Poker Dollface.  All the current literature related posts have been snatched up from over there and put up here, with many more to come.

Telling Tales.

It's a collection of short stories in the style of "The Melancholy  Death of Oyster Boy" by Tim Burton.  I've asked for inspiration from friends and family and it's going great.  This series means a lot to me and to have my family and friends be a part of this makes it all the more meaningful.  Right now there are no illustrations but I hope to change that over here on Tell Tales Dollface.

Malady

Malady was the purest white

With eyes that shone like fire

And across her back a hundred spots

On her forehead another

You may think she’s a pretty thing

But don’t let her purring fool you

Those spots aren’t spots but spiders you see

Which attack the moment you’re near her

Inspired by my brother Steve.