I’ll End You Kitty
Inspired by Casey Bainter
I’ll end you kitty if it’s the last thing I do
I should have gotten a dog, loyal and true
I’m sick of your meows and scratch, scratching
Your indifferent eyes and your hours of napping
I’ve tried to be gentle, to be humane
But no matter where I leave you – you’re back the next day
So, I’ll treat you to a treat with a high poison quotient
With Mr. Yuck on the bottles, I pour them and mix them
I think to myself, “Yeah, this will fix him!”
I get down close to watch your demise
But you flip the bowl over into my eyes
When the burning stops and I can see
Ending that kitty is a strong felt need
A dual, forty paces, that is the way
Shooting and missing, this was a mistake
You fire more truly and blow me away
Back from the hospital, a new plan in motion
I’ll end you kitty with a bash to split you open
Hammer in head, I swing for the fences
Your head soon will be only a few traces
But alas I miss and hit myself in the man places
I’ll end you kitty if it’s the last thing I do
I sit and ponder on which tools to use
A chainsaw or jackhammer
Perhaps fire! Yes, Fire!
Up goes my home in a pillar of flames
And out walks the kitty, unamused by my games
Oh, I’ll end you kitty
As soon as I’m free
From this tight jacket and white walls around me
Oh, I’ll end you kitty, I write on the walls
And curse your name down the Psych Ward halls.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Chapter 1 - The Wedding
This is an excerpt from Project Volume One. Let me know if you like it.
It was now at the crest of Spring and the whole village of Low Stream was bright with color, as wedding streamers danced from bow to bow all along the rows of homes. Bells hung from every conceivable surface of the ‘Glittering Cave’ and jingled in the light breeze. The square was covered in a massive pavilion tent and the whole town was gathered underneath.
Standing before everyone was Silva Kiln, dressed in a finely laced dress of brown and green, she stood atop a intricately carved wood platform that would become part of the bride and groom’s home in some way. Below her stood her daughter, Lira, who in a dress of white and red was the consummate bride. She was shapely figured and christened with the brightest red hair any could remember seeing. Her bridegroom was short and stocky, also dressed in white and red, but his clothes lacked the finery that Silva and Lira’s possessed. Hand-me-downs from his father were the whispered rumors.
“Daughter, take his hands; they are rough and hard from working the land to prepare a place for you. Son, take her hands; they are soft and smooth and thus a balm to you after your tireless work. As the mountains are bound to the lowlands by the streams and rivers, so too are you bound to each other by your hands.” Silva intoned the ancient wedding rites with a regal bearing. Elsewhere in the back of the throng stood two young men dressed in threadbare suits of green and white anxiously watching the proceedings.
That could have been you, signed one to the other.
I’m trying to watch, signed the other one back with a angry look in his eyes. A few turned to look at the two conversing with their hands, but as only two knew the language and they were the sons of the ‘Mad-hatter’ the onlookers decided to ignore them and turn back to watch Lira kiss both of the bridegroom’s cheeks before leading him around the platform.
Avin Ores was half a head taller than most men, still shorter than his father and not as wide. He instead was thin and willowy like his mother. His brother, Liam Ores, was shorter but just as thin. To look at them one would not be wrong in thinking they were brothers, but Liam was not Tovin and Light’s natural born child. Twenty years before Tovin had gone out on one of his wanderings and returned with a child. He said, he had stumbled upon an ambushed caravan making its way over the Siltz Pass with Liam being the only survivor. Light immediately took to the child, so Tovin and Light chose raise the strange little boy as their own. After a time though they discovered that the strange boy’s tongue was more than capable of working but he had never spoke or uttered a sound that anyone could remember. Avin had asked his mother once why this was.
“Because he has suffered a great loss, our little Liam has lost his voice. And before you ask, no I don’t think he’ll ever get it back.” She put Avin down off her knee and pushed him toward the toddler. Unable to talk the two developed a language all their own with their hands doing the talking. It evolved from simple thoughts to more complex ideas and words over time as the two became inseparable. Their bound grew even greater after the death of their mother when they were still young, as their father went deeper into his madness and the two had to learn to care for themselves.
Still, don’t you wonder what it might be like, asked Liam, pointing to the ceremony now at its apex. Silva had stepped down from the platform and the bridegroom was lifting Lira up onto it before stepping up onto it himself.
No, I don’t wonder, Avin replied curtly, adding a final hack to his gestures to show he was done talking. Liam turned back to watch, but he stole sideway glances to watch his brother’s reaction. Out of the corner of Liam’s eye he saw Mitus Firn sidestepping up to Avin’s side. Mitus hadn’t even tried to dress up for the wedding, being only a herdsman for the penniless Turn Farm didn’t provide much reason to own fine clothing, but it at least smelled as if he had bathed beforehand. Mitus, while in a different profession, was actually quite close to the Ores brothers who would often stop to talk to him before setting off into the woods near the Turn’s fields for a hunt.
“That could be you, you know,” Mitus said in a low voice. Avin rolled his eyes and coughed to clear his throat, a sign well known in the east to mean drop the subject. “In all my dreams I never thought I would see, let even know, a bachelor. I tell you what. If I had the chance to marry Lira I would have jumped at it faster than Emperor Vidian took to water .”
Avin starred Mitus down, but instead of quieting he continued getting louder. “That Lira is a fine woman, nothing like her mother either. I’d almost think she was found like you, Liam.” Mitus motioned to Liam. “No, that Lira is a real princess… a fine woman to marry. Why did you turn her down?”
A small crowd was now turned and listening to the conversation. Avin’s face grew red and his breathing grew deep.
“That was my decision, now wasn’t it Mitus? And I’d appreciate some quiet so I can watch in peace.” Avin kept his temper in check, but Liam could see it boiling just below the surface, it only needed a final push and Mitus seemed intent on being the one to do it.
“Sure, sure, Avin, but Lira? She’s had nothing but eyes for you…” Mitus was now talking quite loudly and everyone in the back of the proceedings had turned to watch or glare their disproval. Silva had also noticed and sent a killing look back at Avin.
Avin spun on his heels and walked off without a word. Mitus watched him leave and then looked to Liam for an answer; he only shrugged and then turned to follow his brother.
Silva began her final comments, a chance for her to intone a piece of great wisdom to the newlyweds.
“In these uncertain times, where brother no longer see eye to eye with brother, where the weak are oppressed, and the Magas rules no better than an Orc Chieftain it is to men such as my new son that we must look. Vance Badg has already presented his papers to the Free Provincial Army’s recruiters and agreed to forgo his honeymoon to immediately enlist to fight against the Emperor and his evils.” Vance Badg, the bridegroom, standing atop the platform looked awkward from Silva drawing so much attention to him. He was a simple farmer from Gwest, a village not far to the south, who had hazarded flood waters to save another’s family and thus won the right to marry . Everyone liked Vance, there wasn’t much not to like, but he was easily swayed and no one held any doubts that Silva had made enlisting part of his marriage agreement.
“Unlike so many, Vance has proved his manhood. Who here can say as much as our brothers arm themselves to defend our freedoms?” The crowd looked away from her piercing gaze. “I thought as much. Vance, it is with all the joy in my heart that I give you my daughter in marriage.”
Thus ended the wedding and began the celebration. While the ceremony may have been difficult for some the free flowing taps from the ‘Glittering Cave’ made it a pleasurable experience to recall later in life. Jovin, who as Bürger had many duties before and after a wedding, looked for his nephews amongst the crowds; however neither Avin nor Liam returned for the festivities.
They instead dressed out of their suits, putting them back in the window seat for storage, and dressed in their hunting gear. Taking their musket rifles, powder horns, lead, a day’s supply of rations, and Liam’s bow and quiver of arrows they stepped out and quickly skulked out into the woods.
It was now at the crest of Spring and the whole village of Low Stream was bright with color, as wedding streamers danced from bow to bow all along the rows of homes. Bells hung from every conceivable surface of the ‘Glittering Cave’ and jingled in the light breeze. The square was covered in a massive pavilion tent and the whole town was gathered underneath.
Standing before everyone was Silva Kiln, dressed in a finely laced dress of brown and green, she stood atop a intricately carved wood platform that would become part of the bride and groom’s home in some way. Below her stood her daughter, Lira, who in a dress of white and red was the consummate bride. She was shapely figured and christened with the brightest red hair any could remember seeing. Her bridegroom was short and stocky, also dressed in white and red, but his clothes lacked the finery that Silva and Lira’s possessed. Hand-me-downs from his father were the whispered rumors.
“Daughter, take his hands; they are rough and hard from working the land to prepare a place for you. Son, take her hands; they are soft and smooth and thus a balm to you after your tireless work. As the mountains are bound to the lowlands by the streams and rivers, so too are you bound to each other by your hands.” Silva intoned the ancient wedding rites with a regal bearing. Elsewhere in the back of the throng stood two young men dressed in threadbare suits of green and white anxiously watching the proceedings.
That could have been you, signed one to the other.
I’m trying to watch, signed the other one back with a angry look in his eyes. A few turned to look at the two conversing with their hands, but as only two knew the language and they were the sons of the ‘Mad-hatter’ the onlookers decided to ignore them and turn back to watch Lira kiss both of the bridegroom’s cheeks before leading him around the platform.
Avin Ores was half a head taller than most men, still shorter than his father and not as wide. He instead was thin and willowy like his mother. His brother, Liam Ores, was shorter but just as thin. To look at them one would not be wrong in thinking they were brothers, but Liam was not Tovin and Light’s natural born child. Twenty years before Tovin had gone out on one of his wanderings and returned with a child. He said, he had stumbled upon an ambushed caravan making its way over the Siltz Pass with Liam being the only survivor. Light immediately took to the child, so Tovin and Light chose raise the strange little boy as their own. After a time though they discovered that the strange boy’s tongue was more than capable of working but he had never spoke or uttered a sound that anyone could remember. Avin had asked his mother once why this was.
“Because he has suffered a great loss, our little Liam has lost his voice. And before you ask, no I don’t think he’ll ever get it back.” She put Avin down off her knee and pushed him toward the toddler. Unable to talk the two developed a language all their own with their hands doing the talking. It evolved from simple thoughts to more complex ideas and words over time as the two became inseparable. Their bound grew even greater after the death of their mother when they were still young, as their father went deeper into his madness and the two had to learn to care for themselves.
Still, don’t you wonder what it might be like, asked Liam, pointing to the ceremony now at its apex. Silva had stepped down from the platform and the bridegroom was lifting Lira up onto it before stepping up onto it himself.
No, I don’t wonder, Avin replied curtly, adding a final hack to his gestures to show he was done talking. Liam turned back to watch, but he stole sideway glances to watch his brother’s reaction. Out of the corner of Liam’s eye he saw Mitus Firn sidestepping up to Avin’s side. Mitus hadn’t even tried to dress up for the wedding, being only a herdsman for the penniless Turn Farm didn’t provide much reason to own fine clothing, but it at least smelled as if he had bathed beforehand. Mitus, while in a different profession, was actually quite close to the Ores brothers who would often stop to talk to him before setting off into the woods near the Turn’s fields for a hunt.
“That could be you, you know,” Mitus said in a low voice. Avin rolled his eyes and coughed to clear his throat, a sign well known in the east to mean drop the subject. “In all my dreams I never thought I would see, let even know, a bachelor. I tell you what. If I had the chance to marry Lira I would have jumped at it faster than Emperor Vidian took to water .”
Avin starred Mitus down, but instead of quieting he continued getting louder. “That Lira is a fine woman, nothing like her mother either. I’d almost think she was found like you, Liam.” Mitus motioned to Liam. “No, that Lira is a real princess… a fine woman to marry. Why did you turn her down?”
A small crowd was now turned and listening to the conversation. Avin’s face grew red and his breathing grew deep.
“That was my decision, now wasn’t it Mitus? And I’d appreciate some quiet so I can watch in peace.” Avin kept his temper in check, but Liam could see it boiling just below the surface, it only needed a final push and Mitus seemed intent on being the one to do it.
“Sure, sure, Avin, but Lira? She’s had nothing but eyes for you…” Mitus was now talking quite loudly and everyone in the back of the proceedings had turned to watch or glare their disproval. Silva had also noticed and sent a killing look back at Avin.
Avin spun on his heels and walked off without a word. Mitus watched him leave and then looked to Liam for an answer; he only shrugged and then turned to follow his brother.
Silva began her final comments, a chance for her to intone a piece of great wisdom to the newlyweds.
“In these uncertain times, where brother no longer see eye to eye with brother, where the weak are oppressed, and the Magas rules no better than an Orc Chieftain it is to men such as my new son that we must look. Vance Badg has already presented his papers to the Free Provincial Army’s recruiters and agreed to forgo his honeymoon to immediately enlist to fight against the Emperor and his evils.” Vance Badg, the bridegroom, standing atop the platform looked awkward from Silva drawing so much attention to him. He was a simple farmer from Gwest, a village not far to the south, who had hazarded flood waters to save another’s family and thus won the right to marry . Everyone liked Vance, there wasn’t much not to like, but he was easily swayed and no one held any doubts that Silva had made enlisting part of his marriage agreement.
“Unlike so many, Vance has proved his manhood. Who here can say as much as our brothers arm themselves to defend our freedoms?” The crowd looked away from her piercing gaze. “I thought as much. Vance, it is with all the joy in my heart that I give you my daughter in marriage.”
Thus ended the wedding and began the celebration. While the ceremony may have been difficult for some the free flowing taps from the ‘Glittering Cave’ made it a pleasurable experience to recall later in life. Jovin, who as Bürger had many duties before and after a wedding, looked for his nephews amongst the crowds; however neither Avin nor Liam returned for the festivities.
They instead dressed out of their suits, putting them back in the window seat for storage, and dressed in their hunting gear. Taking their musket rifles, powder horns, lead, a day’s supply of rations, and Liam’s bow and quiver of arrows they stepped out and quickly skulked out into the woods.
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