Josiah Jacobus-Parker

Company --(dedicated to the nameless couple in Starbucks) We sit idly in the corner, The velvet couch almost too cozy As quiet music plays softly overhead. We nurse our coffees quietly. I can see a man reading, His foot tips a chair And he rocks it absently. The red lights over the counter And the blue lamps on the tables Make a homely glow And I sink deeper into my seat, Enjoying the caffeinated stupor. A sophisticated woman in a fur coat Comes and sits near us. She takes delicate sips of her latt? And flips through her magazines, Reading up on the lives of celebrities And whatever other gossip That has found it's way into the latest issue. The snow piles softly against The window panes. And I'm glad we're inside. I'm glad we're warm. What are you thinking about? Should I ask? You have a bag of books And when I inquire, You eagerly take them out to show me Your latest purchase. You speak excitedly about them. But I'm not listening. I'm just watching your mouth move, Enjoying the contours and animations of your face. I make a noise of appreciation. But I'm still not listening. Yours is such an open face, So warm and comforting. The wind rattles the glass panes And I break from my reverie. I'm reminded again Of how glad I am we're inside. I know how you enjoy the cold, The outside. But it's too wet to be out. I lean closer to you And rest my head on your shoulder. Your hand finds mine and our fingers entwine. It's subtle, but intimate. Everyone else is drinking their coffee --That's what they come here to do. But we're not. We're enjoying something better: Each other's company.

Bittersweet Victory We bet him five dollars That he would drown. The lake was green and dark As if the mountains were great organs Leaking bile into their valleys. The weeds were high Trailing their tendrils on the tepid surface We bet him five dollars That he would drown As the mosquito larvae festered In the shallows And the pond skimmers tracked across the surface Of the algae polluted water. We bet him five dollars That he would drown As he took a running start And dove beneath the surface And we laughed and cajoled And waited as the bubbles Trickled their way to the surface. We bet him five dollars That he would drown... A bittersweet victory. ----------------------------------------- Well that was morbid.

Aww, thanks! I realise there are still quite a few mistakes in some of the chapters that have managed to elude me. And that the first few chapters pretty much suck. haha. But thanks, I appreciate it. It's been really fun for me to write over the past twenty two months.

:oops: Thanks! :D

Sitting motionless But somehow still getting there does it to me. Hypnotized by the bright lights, Shivering and planning out what I am going to say. Remembering how you kept me warm on those cold nights. There were a lot of those nights. Nights we were silly And cared about dressing up nicely and things like that. Jazz at night in the city... Coffee and cigarettes just makes me feel unhealthy now. I haven't drunk liquor in ages. I?m always going to be sad. Feeling crazy gives me a reason to live. No matter how much you try I am still going to feel this way. And I'm okay with that. Whoa, I'm going way faster than that cop. I hope I don't get pulled over. Fuck. Gonna smoke a cigarette even though I'm trying to quit. Gotta stay addicted to something. Coffee, booze, cigarettes, staying up late (it?s the only thing that makes me feel alive. Staying up until I get crazy enough to actually understand. One day I will see things how they are. I'm getting closer to the truth every day.) The only person who I think can even begin to understand Is 7,000 miles away. Coincidentally, "It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside..." On the radio. It's terrible, but this song makes me think of him. "I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, That I put down in words... How wonderful life is now you're in the world." Barf. But I miss you. I hope whatever that huge thing Is in that truck in front of me flies out of the back and... Now I'm passing over 29 on the parkway. There's that fucking piece of red plastic In the middle of the bridge that always makes me think about Ambulances. The lights are bright here. This used to be the crazy dinosaur graveyard Back when construction was happening on 89. That's what I got for driving home at midnight after smoking all day. Good thing I'm going back earlier today... Finally getting onto Buffalo, Ugh, thinking about you again. Stopstopstop. I'm getting better at it. ...Researching... all the time is helping me Understand more about how this brain thing works. I'm almost there. Turning off my car, Basically putting it to sleep for the week. I feel bad. I love you, car. Stepping out into the real world And truly feeling how infinite the possibilities, And feeling inspired yet completely hopeless At the same time. ----------------------------------------------------- Just wanna say, this poem isn't about me. Or anyone in particular. I don't smoke, and to be honest, I had liquor last weekend. It's just something that ended up spilling out on paper. Like thought's while driving.

I have to say, I loved this one too. It was pretty damn funny to read. Just to clarify, I don't have a cokney accent, but the rest of it was pretty ahh... ::cough:: accurate. heh. :p

Funny how you can win more work now. haha. Thank you for doing such a great job of editing the chapter, and not to mention for doing it so quickly! I couldn't agree more with you. If a writer and editor are to work together, there needs to be a good deal of feedback between the two-- that way, the writer can (hopefully!) learn not to make the same mistakes, and the editor can come to understand a writer's particular style. But really, thank YOU! It would have taken me much longer on my own, and I probably would have missed out half the things you caught me on. I look forwards to working with you again. I found your editing methods very helpful. P.S. The other 'winner' didn't edit it at all and was clearly just doing it to get an early read of the chapter.

Hey Gabe, thanks for your advice. I'll fiddle around with it and see what I can make of it. I didn't really like it in the end either, but I was hoping someone else might be able to give me advice like you have! thanks. Umm, but I'm a bit confused... what submissions? :?

There's moments when we look to the ground and see a gap growing. It's splitting at our feet and the ideas are all flowing and beliefs we built our empire on are starting to slip through. No stone is built so strong as to face that on its own. The fear of the beast, is not so much the falling but that which has already fallen. We?re consumed by trying to stay afloat and fly. Then when it finally gives we?re left free-falling to the ground We can be building our empires and lives upon a thought placing our feet upon it to reach the next height. Then one action or a word can throw it all to shame. Can loosen the grip you had above you and unbalance it all again. Then with luck you find an Angel. She smacks you all around on the back of the head in a wake up call to sort yourself out fast. She delivers the news the way it should be with no padding and no pretense. She?s hard enough to kick you ass so it?s still smarting three weeks later. She may be an Angel, but no one said that they were gentle. You can be so all consumed by the thoughts of ill-tidings that you forget about the good that people?s love can bring. It seems that these people are Angels in disguise. Friends are just our Angels who lift us to our feet, when it would seem our own wings cannot stand to beat. That or they kick us so far up the ass that we don't have a choice. Such is life. Now go and find your voice. ------ not really sure what to call it. I think it still needs a lot of work. It was mainly just me scribbling ideas down while I was layed up in bed today.

So, I guess I really had three curcial coming out episodes. The first was when I was sixteen. Me and my (then) best-friend Kate were always hanging out and going to movies-- and because I?m a bit of a flirt naturally, the way I acted she thought I was always flirting with her. Even though I?d said I would never go out with her when someone asked, she?d hug me a lot and try to be quite touchey-feely. I always made my excuses and managed to get out of stickey situations. I?d decided that sooner or later, I was going to have to come out to her, or things were gonna get harder nad harder for me to deal with. She forced my hand though, after one night of getting pretty drunk at her house, she tried to kiss me. I jumped up and said I had to go home and used some lame-ass excuse I?m sure. I ran about a mile home through Cambridge at 11 o?clock-- if you?ve ever been in Cambridge after 10 on a friday night, you know it can get a bit rowdy and if you?re walking alone through one of the parks, there?s a pretty high chance you?ll get mugged or raped or both. But by the time I got home I?d made up my mind. She texted me to see if I was ok, and I texted back saying something stupid like ?I?m sorry, but I have to tell you something. I just need you to promise that you won?t hate me afterwards.? And before I go on, yes, I know that doing it by text is NOT the way you should do it. But I?m a coward and texting it was easier than saying it. She texted me back saying of course, how could she ever hate me? So I told her. ?The reason I?ll never go out with you, is because I?m gay. ok? I like boys. do you hate me now?? She was fine with it. I mean, I knew she would be... but there?s still the whole element of actually saying ?I?m gay? to someone, and that?s a pretty big thing to do. I made her promise she?d never tell anyone, and she kept to it. We?re still good friends, we?ve kept in touch even after moving schools. The second time I came out to someone in person was to one of my mates Samantha (or Sam for short). It was the monday after I?d met my first boyfriend. Hahaha, we were in a history class, pretending to listen to our teacher talk about the effect of the Blitz in Britian. Instead we were writting tiny notes on a piece of paper. She was trying to set me up with someone-- finally get ?single Joey? a girl. I plucked up my courage and wrote ?I don?t need one. I?ve already got a boyfriend.? When she read the note she laughed really loudly and the whole class looked at her. When she slipped the note back to me it said ?I KNEW IT? in big bold letters. We talked about it later during lunch break and I explained to her that only Kate knew. She?s one of the best mate?s I?ve ever had. Eventually I plucked up the courage to tell the rest of my female friends. The school I was at was a Church of England school, so most of the guys were pretty homophobic. When I moved to a new school (a bunch of my girl friends came to the same school, so we kept our little clique). I was completely out at this new school incidently. People say about 1/4 of the student body was gay too-- and they were right. At any rate, during this whole time I?d never said a word to my parents. They?d met my frist two boyfriends as ?friends? but had no clue they were anything more. But my luck ran out by the time I was 17 and with my third boyfriend (third time unlucky eh?). We thought we were home alone and my parents wouldn?t be back until late. So we had a shower together and went up to my room and into bed for an innocent cuddle-- all without getting dressed. We?d been in bed maybe five minutes before my dad walked in without knocking. He said ?uhhhh sorry? and walked right out again. We looked at each other and went ?akwaaaaaaaaard? before jumping up, getting dressed and running downstairs. My dad was witting on the sofa reading a paper. I told him I was going over to my friends for the night. He asked when I?d be back and like the rebelious teenager that I am, I told him ?eventually? before grabbing my keys and wallet and we ran out. He?s still not said anything to me about it, but he did speak to my mom. When I came back after the weekend, my mom came up to my room and sat down on my bed to talk to me. I could tell she knew as soon as she walked in the room. It was fine-- althouhg a big uncomfortable. She said they both accepted me whoever or whatever I felt I was. I emailed her the link to my story later that night as well as saying some things I wished I?d been able to say earlier, but hadn?t. She replied with: "Dear Josiah, I sampled this, but it would take a long time to read The Angel and something tells me it should be read serially, chapter by chapter and in doses. Talking of coming out, are you in or out? I'll try not to do a Bree-Desperate-Housewife. But if you find me crying over the laundry basket, you'll know why. I think you should talk to your sister. She has a lot of experience and understanding. You are still the same Josiah. love, Mum" Fortunately they both liked my boyfriend, and we?re still together. I think my dad just feels akward about talking about it, so he just doesnt. Every now and then my mom will ask something or mention something, but pretty much life hasn?t changed. They?re always sure to knock on my door before coming into my room though. And I still haven?t talked to my sister. But she knows. I know she can tell. I just need to pluck up the courage to actually say the words. There?s such a stigma around them still though, and the years at a C of E school only helped to imprint that on me. If someone askes me if I?m gay, I can say right off that I am. But I find it very difficult to say the words myself. It?s gotten much easier. I can say it to friends or people I?m meeting for the first time. But I still don?t have teh courage or self-confidence so say it to a family member. Wow... that got a LOT longer than I intended it to be. Sorry for making you all read that.

can i just say that i officially love you now, purely because you read OSC. He's like, one of my favorite authors of all time and I am SO excited about Ender's Game being turned into a moive. sorry, that was really random and completely off-topic.

Shit... I'm so starting to freak out about my results now... If I failed, I'm gonna be buggered for colleges. I hate that I forgot to give you a letter so you could pick mine up for me and tell me. Maybe I should just like... put you on my school file as my emergency contact or something. lol. I love you, and I'll be back soon. Take care and at least try to have fun over the next 3 days while waiting for me...

Well, I'm going to put my hand up in the air and tell you I did like it. While i found it prfoundly disturbing and upsetting, i thought it was a well written story. I think some people are confusing dislike of the subject matter and dislike of the story itself. The material holds a defenite revoltion and I tip my proverbeal writers hat to you for taking it on. It's not something I could have stomached, writing on that topic. Especially not with that picture staring me in the face. While events like this are trajedies, simply saying it's terrible and then ignoring it is not going to achieve anything. People should realise that a lot of racism that still exists today stems from things like this still and we need to address the issues properly, not hide them in a closet so that they can fester. What I find most disturbing about the story is that you featured a boy who didn't know what the hunt was about-- but most certainly, there must have been young boys who did participate in such things and were fully aware of what they were doing. It's a thought that is chilling and sickening, but one that shouldnt be denied. That picture struck a nerve in me-- a cold dark nerve. At first I couldn't stand to look at the picture for more than a few seconds. But then I had to go back and look at it again. Partly because I feel that if we can understand how and why things happened, we can avoid them happening again and start to heal over the wounds that such actions have caused. Again, you have my respect for tackling such a difficult topic and bearing it through.

I have mixed feelings about it actually... on the one hand, I feel it's pretty pretentious and makes me want to slap myself. On the other hand, I do like it better than the first...

Dreamcatcher II I would not sleep with out one, For should I try, Nightmares would rain down on me Thick from the sky. In day, let me be undaunted By flickers of fright, Let not my mind dwell On the oncoming night. Let not my sleep Be riddled with fears. And hush! stay quiet! In case somebody hears My cries for salvation From these fitful dreams As I?m drenched in the sweat That pours from my seams. The dawn hours, the Death-watch, Those are the worst. When sinister shadows Seem ready to burst And all life?s trepedations Rush full to the head, Poisoning my thoughts As I writhe in my bed. Nay, I would not dare To seek sleep Without a dreamcatcher Hung there to reap All my sorrows and fears, They will catch in its net And all my night-shed tears I shall swiftly forget.

Dreamcatcher Strands of animals twisted in the air Strung taught, woven and held with hair Fixtured wtih feathers and charms of good grace Hung with tethers, delicate as lace It turns in the daylight, burning its catch And you sit un-awares of this silent dispatch But at night, while you dream It hangs in its place to filter the stream Of thoughts that rush to your head Filling your mind as you lay in your bed

You're evil. I like you.

And as I have said, I didn't take any offense from your first comment. I don't think it came across in a bad way, not to me at any rate. Frankly I think the whole thing has been blown out of proportion now and people need to calm down. I don't think you're a trouble maker either, for what it's worth. I'm honoured that my story was the first that got you to comment, and I fully respect your view (which I happen to share) of my first few chapters.

When you first enter a house, is your first instinct to criticize or be rude? Mother always said that first impressions are the most important and lasting so, since you are not known, this is the first and only impression you've left us with. Honesty is, they say, a dying art but one more often appreciated in the breach than in the observance. TR Maybe I'm just weird, but I kind of appreciated his brutal honesty. It may not have been tactful, but when I'm talking to people I'd much rather know what they really think than have them be polite to me while lying and then go off and laugh or something. This is hardly a house either. One of the wonders of the internet is that it lifts all social constraints from people. No matter who you are, age, gender, what sexual preference, everyone can talk to anyone else without having to worry about tiptoeing around on eggshells. Anyway, the fact of the matter is that he's said he liked my story and said it has a good plot. So far he's only agreed with my own feelings about the first few chapters, so I don't mind. Now, if he starts tearing apart chapter 22 or 23 I'll have to kill him.... (jk. lol)

Oh, don't get me wrong here. By no means do i think he put it nicely. But he did put it bluntly and truthfully. He's just expressing his opinion and I'm perfectly ok with that. He's not just making nasty comments if I read it correctly, just trying to make helpful comments about the writing of it. He probably didn't know the whole history of the story or how long it's been running now. As for learning, yes we all can learn on our own and from our own mistakes and discoveries, but there's no harm in a little useful criticism. If it was intended as a nasty comment, it would be the fifth I've recieved since starting the Angel, and that's out of the several hundred emails I've had about it so far. I happen to have this useful little trait of when someone criticises me, I give them the finger and carry on how I think is best... it doesnt always work out, but if anything I'm a stubourn bastard. lol. Take in mind though TR that just because he's not a writer on this site doesn't mean he isn't a writer. Critiquing someone else's writing can actually be helpful to both reader and writer. The reader learns what they find to be poorly written and so learn not to write like that, and from their comments, the writer can learn that maybe other styles are better put to use in certain situations. Thank you for defending me and my story TR, but you have to let people express their own opinions. It doesnt hurt anyone by letting them. Also, I'm glad you like my story, lol. it would kind of suck if the moderator didn't like my story. haha.

Hey Nathan, I couldn't have said it better. Every time I read the first few chapters, I can't help but wince at it. I don't really have any excuse except that I was 16 when I wrote those chapters and frankly when it started, the Angel was going to be an 8 chapter story with much more sex... I just sort of decided I didn't want to write just another porno story, and I just kind of got attached to the characters and felt they deserved better. And now you can see the result of a (as yet) 25 chapter story where the first sexual encounter between two people doesnt happen until chapter 21.

I'm tempted to ask... except I'm worried you might actually tell me and I wouldn't really want to know....

Ripples Cannot a drop of water Be dew on the meadow, A glacier?s thaw, Or the tear of a child? But, All things return to their beginnings. The waters that spill across the falls Flow to the ocean tide, Only to be returned As the rains that join The mighty river. Such a small thing, A drop of water... And yet enough of them Together can flood a field, Cleanse a mire, Or choke a forest. And yet, when it?s finished, All that?s left Is a ripple On a pond. A storm can turn a world to turmoil. Here it is spring, And there winter. For some, time stands still, While for others, moments flash Past like minnows in a pond. The storm blows strong through The dreams of men And blows away our assurances, Like wet autumn leaves In a wind. Desperately we cling To what we love, Hoping we won?t be torn loose. But this world is a dream, And though we cling to our toys They all fade away With the passing of time And the passing of grace. In the end, We stand. Alone among many. A raindrop Among millions. Just one in the storm. And after our passing, The ripples will fade. Perhaps they?ll remember As we lie in out graves. But perhaps we?ll be lost Among the tumultuous waves. Regardless, Eventually, The pond will grow still And we?ll fade from the memories Of the grinding, human mill. ------------- That was just something I fooled around with for a while during a thunder storm the other night... hope you enjoyed it! JJ-P

Um.... how do you submit to the Poetry Corner? I cant seem to find any link to submitting... any help would be greatly apprecicated!

Thanks EleCivil and TR, it's so great to hear back from readers who liked it. Ironically, I actually kind of hate the frist few chapters of The Angel. Some day I'm going to go back and re-write them. But, if you liked these four chapters, you'll like the next 21 even more! Take care and I hope you keep enjoying the rest of the Angel, as well as the other great stories on AD.