He Lived

He lived in a world of no.
No feeling.

When a dam breaks, its contents floods.
But when the sun never sets,
The flames never cease.

And when the flames never cease,
The heat is everlasting.

And so, the water is gone.
No water.
No green.
Nothing.

Because after the flood,
There is nothing.

He lived.
And that was all.

The Brunt of My Malice

You have not seen the brunt of my Malice
You have not felt the blunt of my Mace.
Over your ignorant, snickering face.

I am so tired.
So very tired.

And it all goes round and round,
Those damn bus wheels.
Running me over.
And over.
And over.

Wake up sweating from life so vivid.
Wake into a blur.
Impressionistic canvas.
Oil smears for faces.

Watch me melt.
Watch me run down the canvas of your mind.
I'm just riding gravity.
Straight into the ground.
As quickly as it will take me.

Soaking me up.
Up.
Up.
Up.

Down.
Down.
Down.
Into the earth.
Where I belong.

Delusional

        Sharice is a monster. She even looks like one. Pig-nosed, greasy-haired, chap-lipped, big-eared, unibrowed, monster, Sharice. She’s been after my reputation ever since fifth grade when I was voted student council president and she only made secretary. It’s eigth grade now, Sharice. Get a life! I mean, just today that you hit on my boyfriend. This has got to be, like, the fiftieth time now, and I swear I almost rearranged that girl’s monster face.

        See, Tara, Sam and I were walking from social studies to math and we were laughing about how tacky Mrs. Robinson’s outfit was. Plaid….everywhere! On top of that, she had a massive wedgie. She’s droning on about Angina, or whatever that country in Africa is, and we’re just cracking up with laughter. She’d turn around and we’d just look at our notebooks or those “People of the World” posters that show those cartoon people in their costume thingies in Russia or Spain. They’re kind of creepy, actually.

        So, while we’re walking down the hallway we pass a blob of dweebs and guess who’s laughing like a hyena at my boyfriend, Brad’s, jokes? The crazy fake, obnoxious laugh was spewing out of Sharice who was obviously trying too hard to appreciate his humor. He’s not that funny in the first place, trust me. To him, funny is milk shooting out of Otto’s nose. Gross. I go up to Sharice and say, “Uh, what do you think you’re doing with Brad?” “What’s it to you?” she said.

        “A big deal, that’s what. You’re always trying to steal my boyfriend. Can’t you tell he’s not even into you?”

        “What’re you talking about? Brad and I have been going out for almost four months now. Get lost loser!”

        “Loser?!?” I raised my hand to slap her, but the bell rang and they rushed off to their classes. By the time I got to the end of the hallway to Mr. Willow’s class I could only hear my heels echoing off the metal lockers. I had to use the excuse “woman’s issues” sot that I didn’t get another tardy and he barely bought it. The only desk left was next to some smelly kid whose name I still don’t know. You see what she gets me into? Ugh!

        I might have slapped her after school if I didn’t have to go have another session with Dr. Wilson. She’s the best therapist I’ve had. She actually listens, you know? The only problem is that today she got all weird and flaky, talking about ‘image’.

        “Do you know what ‘image’ is?” she asks.

        “Of course! My clothes, my popularity, my friends, being head cheerleader; it all contributes to my reputation, which is ‘image’ right?”

        “I suppose. What about ‘self-image’?”

        “You mean like a mirror?”

        “Sort of, but it also goes deeper, through the skin. It shows you who you are inside. The problem is that a lot of teens have warped or broken mirrors.”

        I was getting pretty bored and started looking around her office at her pictures and stuff. Her family wears the Walmart collection, but they seem nice. I guess. She has all of those cheesy inspirational pictures on the walls with words like ‘perseverance’ and ‘integrity’ on them.

        “What do you think of yourself?” she asked. I totally spaced out up until that point.

        “Uh, popular, pretty, intelligent, stuff like that” I shifted in my chair so I wouldn’t fall asleep.

        “Okay, but go deeper. Ask yourself ‘Who am I?’”

        “I don’t know what you mean?”

        She leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and rubbed some lotion on her hands, lavender and orange. “Well, think about it and ask your mom for help. Then try to look from Sharice’s point of view. Who are you to her? How does she view herself?”

        Now I was just annoyed. “Why should I care what that skank thinks?”

        “Just try it, okay? Let’s meet again next week.”

        “Whatever….”

        I thought it was pretty stupid, but I didn’t want to let Dr. Wilson down. My mom picked me up from therapy and was on the phone the whole time, so I listened to my ipod touch and looked out the window. She’s always been busy ever since dad left; working long shifts or going out with her friends. Dad tried to get joint custody, but she had a better lawyer and got full custody. She said he was a horrible, irresponsible man who cheated on her and drank too much. Honestly, I don’t know anything about that other than the drinking. He did drink a lot, but most of the time he was working or at least said he was working.

       When we pulled in the garage she waved her hand meaning I should just go inside and not wait for her. I went up the stairs, into the house, and grabbed a snack. There wasn’t much in the pantry, but the fridge had some grapes. I had some of those until Mom cam in. I asked her about ‘self-image’ and what she had to say was a lot better than what Dr. Wilson was saying.

        “Oh, honey, you’re a gorgeous, smart girl who has a lot of friends who adore you and a family who loves you. Your friends look up to you. That’s got to be a lot of pressure and responsibility. I’ve told you how much you remind me of myself at your age. I was popular too. The eyes were always on me, and I had to live up to a lot of standards. If I didn’t, I’d let down a lot of people. I had a Sharice too, you know. Her name was Sandy Atkins and she would follow me around, copy me, try to make me look bad, and even try to steal my boyfriends.”

        “Sharice just tried that today, Mom!” I told her.

        “But, you know what? As annoyed as I was with Sandy, and girl did I loathe her, I eventually realized how pathetic she was. She desperately wanted to be as cool and as popular as me, and it showed. She envied me so I just learned to pity her, and I would tell her I did too. That way, she didn’t succeed in bringing me down to her level, and I wasn’t as annoyed. It made life a lot easier.”

        “So when you look in the mirror, think about how great you are. Think about how well you can succeed; how smart you are. Remember to tell yourself all the things that make you who you are. Tell yourself that you’re so great that people wish they were you. Think of Sharice. To her, you’re her idol and when she looks into the mirror, she’s only reminded of how much she fails to be nearly as popular or as amazing as you are. She probably hates herself.”

       That made a lot of sense to me and my mom knows about these things. It made me think of a couple weeks ago when I made head cheerleader. When Sharice was trying out, she practically fell on her butt. She barely made the squad. I had to be her partner for one of the routines, and, you know what, I bet that’s how she made it. She’s lucky I didn’t let her fall on her back. I though about doing just that the whole time.

       Hey! That’s probably why she’s been after my boyfriend more than normal lately. She’s jealous of me because I made head cheerleader, and me having a guy as great as Brad must make it even worse. The poor girl’s delusional. So sad. I don’t blame her, really. In fact, if I was in her shoes, I’d probably be delusional too.

Taking Root

          Brother Philip sat in the refectory with his head bowed, eyes closed, and hands clasped. Giving thanks for his meal, he signed the cross while a silent “amen” echoed through his mind.

It was Sunday afternoon, and the sun hung heavily over the monastery. Summer’s humidity permeated the air, causing Phillip to perspire under his robes. But, it was not the humidity that was on his mind; it was the words that Prior Jacob had spoken to the villagers during this morning’s matins. With zeal, he advised them of the eternal punishment that awaited those who are greedy, or lustful, or prideful. Not once did he say “we” in reference to those whose fate stood on the tip of a dagger, yet Phillip knew all too well of the imperfections and sins of the prior, as well as his own.

Really, he would’ve thought little of it under different circumstances, but the behavior of his fellow monks had increasingly been in contrast to the ideals they professed. He began to feel like an apostle among Pharisees, before swiftly checking his pride and asking the Lord for humility. All the while, however, he felt a growing need to voice his concerns to those at the priory, though he feared how his words would be received. Yet, his conviction grew stronger with each passing moment. So he decided to speak up that evening during supper, but not before speaking with Brother Adam, whom he suspected of sharing his views.

As he opened the creaking, reinforced wooden doors that led outside, he felt a rush of fresh air, and stepping beyond the doorway he felt a slight cool breeze, both of which were highly welcomed by Phillip. He was making his way to the gardens where Brother Adam tended to the fields – which was not only his wont and duty but also in his nature to do, being the kind, gentle-hearted nurturer he was. And though Phillip loved such work, he was perfectly content educating the local boys in the ways of the world and, more so, in the Word and the Lord.

Adam was tilling the soil when Phillip opened the gate into the garden, and as Phillip approached him he appeared to be glad to have a reason to gain repose.

“Hail, Phillip!” Adam heartily exclaimed as he stood his hoe upright and wiped his brow. “Quite the day!”

“Yes. Beautiful but almost oppressive,” Phillip reflected pensively. “What did you think of this morning's Matins?”

Adam knew that Phillip was not a man of circumlocution. However, his current level of curtness was uncommon, and it spoke Phillip's state of mind to Adam.

“To be honest, Phillip, they left me with confliction.”

“Ah, so I thought,” Phillip replied. “Adam, I trust you. My heart tells me that what I'm about to say can be safely entrusted to you.”

“It has been coming to my attention,” Phillip continued, “that many in our priory are becoming increasingly hypocritical. We preach morality, but our actions are not in line with our message. For instance, out brother, Paul, who Prior Jacob openly expresses dislike for, has been receiving heightened criticism from Prior Jacob – unnecessary, cruel criticism – and his punishing of Paul has become abusive. Have you seen Paul's scars?”

Adam nodded solemnly before Phillip continued.

“When a peasant confessed to stealing a tomato from the market, Brother John severely reprimanded him, rather than showing the love and forgiveness that our Lord Jesus Christ commands us to live by. As men of God, it is our duty to be merciful, and instead I see Brother John committing the same offense the peasant was guilty of. He has repeatedly been stealing from our food stores. Haven't you noticed?”

Again, Adam showed assent.

Phillip pressed onward. “However, it is not just them who are guilty. I certainly have my own sins. The pride I have for my students, as an example, eats away at me. I should be giving the glory to God, who rightfully deserves all of the praise. Besides, they're such brilliant children, truly gifts from above.”

“The fact remains that the seed of corruption has taken root throughout our monastery, growing like a weed amongst now dying flowers. I feel it is time to speak up. Our integrity depends on it. Does not Saint Paul command us to intervene? It is not just for our priory, Adam. I care for our fellow brothers and their souls, and I fear for them.”

Adam stood quietly looking into Phillip's eyes as he reflected upon his words. He took a moment at this, occasionally looking to the horizon. Then, after his thoughts were gathered, he spoke to Phillip.

“I see what you mean, Phillip. It is difficult to reproach your fellow man, but I agree that it must be done. When do you plan on doing this?”

“This evening at dinner.”

“Alright. I'll see you then.”

Phillip smiled subtly, though inside he was filled with joy. His hunch was right in Adam's convictions. He knew that having another man at his side would increase the effect of his message and give him further courage.

“Thank you, Adam,” Phillip bowed and said, “I'll leave you to your work.”

“You're welcome, Phillip. God be with you.”

“And also with you.”

Phillip went to his schoolroom to prepare for the following day's lesson, but he could not focus with the impending task at hand. Instead, he poured over the Bible, taking in the words of Jesus, the teachings of Saint Paul, along with other various scriptures.

The sun was beginning to set, and the light that shone through the windows was beginning to gild. The humidity had lessened – as did the heat – and Phillip got up from his desk and stood at his lectern. The rays of light illuminated the suspended dust, causing there to be visible beams of light in the otherwise dark, stone room. He could see the faces of his students as they listened attentively to his lecture or as they worked over their wooden desks on their assignments. One student, a particular favorite of Phillip's, would often illuminate in expression as his mind would grasp the concept at hand, and as Phillip surveyed his empty classroom this image surfaced to his mind, bringing joy and contentment to his heart.

He heard the wind pick up as it combed its way through the arms and fingers of the trees that nearly encompassed the priory, and this triggered a desire with him to cross the room to the nearest window. From there, he could peer through a gap in the trees towards the village. The sky had begun to redden, and the sun crept faster and faster toward the horizon. He wondered how the weather would be the next day for school. “Maybe we'll take a walk through the woods tomorrow and discuss the beauty of God's creation,” he thought to himself. He could picture the students walking up the hill towards the priory, the luminescent boy slowly and thoughtfully sauntering up the path.

Then, the thoughtful boy and his companions disappeared at the chimes of the seven o'clock bells that signified the call to dinner. But, before leaving his classroom, he took a moment to pray.

“God, grant me the courage to follow your leading and give me the right words to convey my message. Though convicted I should do this, I feel fear, Lord, for I know not what the earthly consequence may be. However, I am confident You are with me, and I know that whatever happens You will stay with me. For Your glory, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit that has descended upon me by Your mercy and grace. Amen.”

The monks were nearly all there when Phillip entered the refectory, and he took his seat across from Adam. Phillip gave a subtle nod to Adam who returned the gesture, but with fearful hesitation. Once all of the monks were present, Phillip stood to address his fellow brothers.

“Brothers! Brothers! May I have your undivided attention please?”

The room grew silent, save a few creaking benches as the men shifted in their seats.

“After hearing Prior Jacob's words this morning, I felt convicted in my spirit to address you about a certain issue. It has been increasingly upon my heart that our words are not matching our behavior, and for the Lord's name, the sake of our monastery, and the sake of our souls, I beg you to take heed.”

“I fear we are, as a whole, guilty of hypocrisy. We musn't be Pharisees when our Lord calls us to higher standards. I, too, am certainly guilty. My pitfall is pride, especially when it comes to my wonderful pupils. As I preach to give God all of the glory for their fortune and deeds, I constantly find myself taking credit for the Lord's work in their hearts and minds.”

“I shan't say names, but others among us have their own vices. One of us is constantly taking from our food stores, when our portions are to be equal and humble in accordance to our ascetic vows. At the same time, another of us is constantly berating our brothers, and what they consider to be discipline is truly wrathful.”

“I say this not to insult you but to convict you of your sin so that our monastery and the name of the Lord may benefit. I, too, am guilty and in no way wish to make any of you believe that I feel I am morally superior. Of all offenders, I know I am the worst...”

Adam shifted in his seat and looked to his lap, while other monks exchanged glances with one another.

“So please, my brothers, heed my words. As brothers in Christ, I love you all too much to remain silent.”

They sat stewing over his words for a while before Prior Jacob stood at the head of the table to speak.

“Brother Phillip is right,” he said with a slight edge to his voice, “and I hope you all take his warning to heart.”

Phillip butted in.

“That is another issue, Prior. Your preaching this morning failed to include your own sins when referring to the pitfalls of sin, and again now you fail to recognize your own misdeeds. As prior, I feel it is you, most of all, who should be setting the standard.”

“Phillip! Quite the audacity you have, speaking to your superior in such a voice. Since you are being so direct, I might as well do the same.”

“Phillip, your behavior has been becoming increasingly suspicious when you are tending to your duties as schoolmaster.”

“Oh,” Phillip responded, “is my teaching not to proper standard?”

Prior Jacob shook his head solemnly.

“Your teaching is excellent, Phillip. God has truly given you gifts in education. This issue is your behavior. It seems that you have taken a particular interest in one of your students. One of our brothers has brought it to my attention that you will spend numerous hours on him while neglecting other students. You have him come to the schoolroom for additional work.”

“Other students have taken notice as well, but more superficially. They feel left out. They wonder why you don't spend so much alone time with them. Phillip, what exactly are you doing with this student? Why are you giving him such special attention?”

Phillip responded defensively.

“This student of mine has such a passion for learning! My intent is to fuel that passion! He could do such great things! For the Lord! If you could see his face when the concepts grab him!” He took a pause. “It's beautiful...”

Prior Jacob looked hard at Phillip, scrutinizing him.

“Is that really all there is to this, Phillip? Based on what I heard, it would appear that there is... an ulterior interest.”

Phillip's eyes widened towards Prior Jacob as Adam's posture slackened. He was shaken to the core by this accusation.

“Prior. I resent your implication. My heart for my students is pure.”

Prior Jacob responded resolutely.

“Be that as it may, I would be pleased if you took two weeks off from your teaching position. You've shown interest in gardening. Why don't you take Adam's work for that time? I think it would be best.”

Adam looked at Phillip with eyes that contained a slew of potential emotions. Phillip was conflicted and crushed.

“Is my heart pure? Surely there is no... no such lust within me. I simply wish to spend more time with my students than I am given. Why is Adam looking at me so?”

“Yes, Prior,” he said submissively.

The following day Phillip was stricken with a headache, for he had taken a larger portion of wine than he was accustomed to. As Phillip slothfully tended to the fields, he looked towards the schoolroom. He could see brother Adam holding the Bible, reading from it's pages. The pride he had for his students crumbled before him. Somewhere, creeping underneath his skin, he felt a twinge of envy for Adam. And from the envy, creepily, came the seeds of wrath, taking root in his heart.