Jason Rimbaud
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Posts posted by Jason Rimbaud
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*silence*
J
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I must say that this story surprised me. Very entertaining with enough of mystery to keep me wanting more. As for the secrets behind Brody and the Angel of Death and just what part Harbor plays in all this, I can't wait to find out.
Jason
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Boy With Dancing Eyes
By: Jason Rimbaud
Written July 13th, 2007
He speaks to me in riddles
And assures me that he loves me
This boy with dancing eyes
And though I barely know him
I can't help but love him
And trust him with my heart
I wished I never kissed him
Because now I can't resist him
This boy with dancing eyes
And now when he whispers
Take me to your bed again
The way you did last night
Promising everthing will be okay
He holds my heart dangerously tight
But when I'm inside it feels so right
"It's been over twenty four hours
And I already miss him laying next to me
I cling to his pillow and choke back the tears
He still hasn't called
And he didn't show up for work today
I hope he's all right and wish he wasn't
It's like going through withdraw
My body aches for his touch and causes anger
Beating myself blind does little to ease the tension
Still no word from him
And I'm beginning to clear away the lies
Finally I see his words for what they are
A new me emerges to the light
For the first time in five days I slept without crying
And the world is strangely clear and bright
I think I'm finally over him
The stronger me overtaking the weaker self
And I stand tall and face those that doubted
It's two Am and the doorbell rings
Before I open it I know it's him my pulse races
He stands before me and I let him inside"
This morning I wake covered with cum and sweat
Our bodies are entwined and I wonder why
I chose to believe this boy with dancing eyes
Because now I can finally see our future
And there is no happy endings
Just the two of us and our wasted life
And I promise that it will be all right
And that everything will finally work out
I sink into the powder and suddenly I'm not okay
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This comes under the heading of short and sweet. Questions, doubts, fears, seem to fade when eyes fall on the one that truly does complete them.
Jason
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Methinks I'm not the only one that struggles with demons of addiction.
Or maybe as an addict, I read into the words what most connects with my mind and thoughts. Either way, a powerful piece that has me quietly contemplating my life. Brilliant.
Jason
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Hmm, a heartbreaking ending to a tale as old as time itself. Who among us has not crushed on a straight friend in High School. I sense the sadness in the protagonist as he struggles to find a way to put this behind him and come to terms with the longing that was never meant to be.
Truly wrenching to observe.
Jason
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Xzor64,
Our lips meet in a sensation explosionMy love pouring out of my soul through my lips
I close my eyes, my head spinning
If only this moment could last forever
The protagonist takes us on the journey of sexual awakening with stark images, vivid descriptions and highly charged erotica.
A truly great poem, though I do have issues with the title...
Throughout the piece, the reader is lulled into believing he is witnessing something private and meant only for the two involved. This gives us the feeling of voyeurism and almost makes us guilty for peeking into this private moment. Then like a masterful poet, the piece turns and in the end you are left breathless at the realization this is nothing but a dream...a fantasy.
From the title, I knew from the beginning where the piece was heading, and I believe if you change the title to something more ambiguous, the end will grip the reader all the more powerful. Of course this is just my opinion and I'm known for being wrong most of the time.
Great piece, I truly enjoyed reading it.
Jason
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In the lawsuit that led to the ruling, Guadalupe Benitez, 36, of Oceanside said that the doctors treated her with fertility drugs and instructed her how to inseminate herself at home but told her their beliefs prevented them from inseminating her. One of the doctors referred her to another fertility specialist without moral objections and Benitez has since given birth to three children.
Am I the only one that is up-set by this article?
For the supreme court to rule that it is illegal for a doctor to withhold care based on religious beliefs, even when that care is not a life or death issue, is a slippery slope to complete government control and only a few steps away from a future straight out of some science fiction writer's mind about a bleak future.
Reading the above quote, the Doctor or doctor's gave the lady all the tools she would need to have babies, and even went as far as referring another Doctor who had no moral objections.
Not to get off topic, but I wouldn't have knocked her up either, we have to many kids in the world as it is and one of the blessings of being gay is you can't get a dude pregnant.
I'm not saying that a Doctor should turn away any person when that person's life is on the line, but clearly this was not the case. I don't know these Doctor's but from the above article, they don't seem to be uncaring or hateful. I get this from the above quote, they gave her the tools, they gave her the knowledge, the only thing they refused was the actual act of knocking her up.
One of the things I despise about the gay community, is the creating of situations that are better left alone. If the Doctor watched as someone died because that person was gay, then by all means, prosecute to the fullest. But how dare the Court rule that a Doctor must ignore his basic moral or religious beliefs.
The religious right are the enemy, I agree as they spit hatred and murderous language against anyone that is different. And I also agree that the Gay activists are also the enemy, as they refuse to allow another person to follow their beliefs. Both of these parties I despise. What ever happened to minding your own business.
You can not tell me that in California, this lady couldn't find another doctor to perform this procedure. Why did she have to make a case out of something that is none of her concern?
The more freedom we take away from the opposing point of view, the more freedom we give away for our own side. Where will the line be drawn?
I believe that the average American truly doesn't care whether or not anyone is gay. Matter of fact, even those that are opposed to the gay lifestyle for religious reasons are still tolerant enough to mind their own business. I know several people who for religious purposes think gays are going to hell yet they also believe it is their right to do what they wish.
Forcing others to believe like you is the worst kind of close-minded behavior. We accuse the religious right of this behavior and condemn them for their beliefs. We are no better, or at least, those that bring up stupid cases like this are no better.
They aren't making the world a better place for gays, they are creating more problems in the long run. We will never learn to live together if we continue to create division with the breeders.
We always say we want/demand to be accepted yet we continually refuse to accept others for their beliefs. It's no wonder why breeders hate us, all we show them is hate in return.
Jason
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Trab, you say over and over again that you have no talent for writing. I want to take this time to publicly say you are sadly mistaken.
You have a talent for descriptive narrative that delights me and frustrates me at the same time. In the many years I've attempted to write, I still haven't found the voice for such magnificent description as you show time and time again. A blind man could see the emotion you felt as you sat in that field, sharing a moment with a stranger. You take us on a ride each time you share these pieces and I thank you.
Masterfully written my friend.
Jason
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Trab,
I have been having trouble coming up with something to reply to this piece. And that doesn't happen often, as usually I can always find something to say.
I believe, knowing a little bit about your personality and your battle with AS, that you meant this piece to show how easy it is for a person to lose themselves in petty day to day problems without looking at the big picture. And in this way, this piece makes perfect sense and I fully understand what you were trying to convey.
But I wonder if the casual reader might interpret this piece a bit differently. As I did upon first reading. I wonder, if you are so incline to want a differing opinion, to do a bit of re-writing on the last paragraph to soften the blow of your brother's accident. Because I believe as it stands, it seems you are a bit callous in relaying these events in a cold dispassionate manner that is so far off the true nature I know you are comprised of.
Of course, this is my opinion and means nothing.
Jason
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Richard,
I can't ever remember having a conversation like the one you describe. Mainly because the moment I hear that little voice start, I automatically do whatever he is advising against. I learned many years ago that self-doubt robs you of living life to the fullest and choose to live come what may.
Of course, I've done many stupid things over the years but I can say with all honesty, I've lived a great life.
Jason
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Trab, what vivid imagery. I am one that has never swam in any ocean, lake, stream or pond. Being scared to death of diseases, animals, and who knows what else lives in our planet's ocean, I can so relate to your fear of being attacked by sharks.
This is why I only swim in private swimming pools, and rarely in public ones. Shudders
Anyway, I do like the gentle way your writing flows.
Jason
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Thank you Adam,
Such kind words from a fellow poet and masterful writer that delves into the darker side of humanity.
Thanks ever so much.
Jason
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Des,
What a remarkable bit of writing, the dialog was so smooth and seamless I had to double check if I was peeking into the bedroom of two real life humans instead of reading a flash fiction.
Very good writing Des.
Jason
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Richard--
I must say this was by far the best comment I've ever received for any piece I've ever written. That was exactly the emotion I was trying to invoke in the reader.
Jason (proud author)
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Great stuff, Jason. I read it filmically* - was directing the action!
As for not managing to write a longer piece with the characters ... Twaddle! It'll come in time (no, that's not a double entendre either
). Why not try writing it as a script?Camy
* is there such a word?
Believe it or not Camy, I've always wanted to direct a film or at best a short art film. Each time I write a story, I tend to visualize it on a big screen, the actors, the dialog, the settings...so Twaddle away you crazy Emu...
J
I loved this story when I first read it, and it's even better when I read it again.Colin
Thanks my fellow poet,
J
I first read this on a different website. I cried then.I just found this again on AD. I cried just now...again.
Keep your passion Jason. The longer stories will happen. I'm still working on my longer pieces, and mine will happen too.
Richard
Richard--how cool is that. My first time making someone cry. WOOT!
Seriously, thanks for commenting.
Jason
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Thanks Richard,
I so agree with your comments. Both about showing our love as natural and by saying the piece was written well.
Jason
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Bruin:
I don't think he's planning on coming out. I got the impression that some words were said to him that were going to out him, and he panicked. He's trying to calm himself, to rationalize that he's still okay. Damn, I still get chills reading that.
Richard
I think I agree with Richard on this one, (sorry Cole
), I get the feeling/impression that something had been said, or even one further, someone saw something that could be observed to be gay in nature, and the narrator is freaked and trying to find a solution to control the situation, mainly his own sanity. Either way, emotionally packed and highly charged.What a great piece!The fact several people all interpret it differently shows it's universality. We take our own thoughts and emotions and run them through the sieve of your story to help us define it.
I interpreted it differently from the others. To me, the person was contemplating suicide, and telling himself to hold on a minute here, I need to think about this!
Great stuff.
C
To address Cole's comment, I think with these sentences...
Because no one will know. You still have your family and friends. You don't have to do this right now. You can wait until you are stronger.puts the kibosh on the suicide train of thought. When family and friends are faced with an attempted suicide, they tend to bond together stronger, to help their family member or friend through his troubled time.
Of course, we could be wrong and you could be right. Either way, this is a very good piece Res.
Jason
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Bleak, dark, but with a glimmer of redemption. This is a wonderful piece, Jason.
Kudos in heaps.
Camy.
Camy-
Upon a few reads, Struggling to See the Light is a bit dark, and I wonder why this particular tale poured out of my mind. But seeing this was a story without a plot or direction, I'm quite proud of the end result. Though I don't believe I'll ever post something without any editing or changing again.
Hey, Jason, great writing!Not escapist, not entertaining or uplifting - but that wasn't what you were going for, was it?
This is powerful gritty stuff and packs a powerful punch. Work on those stomach muscles until you can take a punch to the gut (and have a six pack to die for), then read this!
Bruin
Bruin-
Wow, not entertaining, what a horrible thing to say to a fellow writer.
No worries, I understand what you were trying to say.
When I sat down to write this, I had no clue what I wanted to say. I had a vague idea, well at least I had a clear emotion I wanted to convey. Yet as the words poured out, I realized that I was describing a tale that had no real happy ending. The challenge for me, about half way through, was to find a way to give some kind of hope at the end, even if it was bittersweet. I think I succeeded in spades.
Superb!Thanks Trab, praise from you is always jealousy horded.
You've got a lot of talent, Jason, and a good ear, and sound judgment. Well done.C
Cole, you flatterer.
Thank you all, muchly
Jason
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Ah, pictures of confused love, touching under the table, groping and falling on beds. What a confused time to explore with vibrant words, fast-paced dialog, and bittersweet memories of a simpler yet earthshaking time.
Brilliant Camy,
Jason
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Hey Ergo,
Where as I do agree with those comments above, this piece was a tad bit confusing upon first reading, I also found this piece to be quite intriguing.
I think I figured out what you were trying to convey, after re-reading it more than a few times.
Sometime in the future, maybe as a means to keep the population subdued and the upper class in control, dreaming was deemed counter-productive and certain measures were taken to eradicate all forms of free-thinking.
And I'm assuming here, that the measures that were taken to keep this in check, also affected memories and certain behaviors.
I find this idea quite remarkable, and agree with Camy that maybe this needs to be explored in further detail, like a longer piece.
I understand wanting to write something provocative, thought provoking, and edgy. And flash fiction is a perfect venue to explore these kinds of themes. But you must be careful, readers are extremely fickle...they want to be stimulated by new edgy ideas, they want to be taken down pathways that they normally never venture upon, but they must be taken there carefully. Nothing turns a reader off as fast as a confusing narrative and murky plot.
Flash fiction is a piece shorter than a thousand words, but a complete story must be told in those thousand words. If I were you, I'd try to expand this flash fiction into a short story, delve a bit deeper into the story and explain in greater detail. Remember, short stories are anything under fifty/sixty pages. Plenty of space to flesh out this very intriguing idea.
On a different note, you have great vivid imagery, a rich voice, and a talent for writing. I for one can't wait to read something else from you.
Great job, Ergo.
Jason
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Struggling to See the Light
A Flash Fiction By: Jason Rimbaud
His lungs burned as he ran down the alley casting terrified glances over his shoulder every few steps. With each passing moment, the pain in his side intensified until he could no longer bear it and collapsed in a tired heap. Rolling over, he leaned against the brick wall and wiped the sweat from his eyes as he peered back down the alley, listening for any sounds of pursuit.
He pressed a hand to the wound in his side, and winced as blood seeped through his fingers. He could feel his life ooze slowly from his body and knew the end was approaching; the pain already subsiding as the blood pooled beneath him.
His mind, blurred by heroin and lack of sleep, struggled to comprehend between fantasy and reality.
Though only sixteen, he had no illusions about death. He learned long ago that life was seldom fair and for those that lived on the street, life was nothing but stalking demons.
Slumping forward, he began to cry.
And it wasn't the fact that he would die alone in some deserted alley that caused his tears to stream down his cheeks. But it was the realization that he would never get to see his brother again.
Had it only been a year since his father threw him out with a warning to never return? It felt like a lifetime ago, and in his present state, numb from the loss of blood, he thought back to that horrible night when his secret was thrust into the light. In his dementia, the scene played out again, his father bursting into the room, catching him bent over the side of the bed while some stranger thrust wildly into his body. He watched his father nearly beat the man to death before turning his hatred on his own son.
His brother had always been his best friend, and for a moment he wondered what would have happened that night if his brother had been at home instead of being away at college. But that thought quickly slipped away as pain caused him to cough uncontrollably.
So many times he had picked up a pay phone only to hang up before the first ring. How could he tell his brother that for the last year he had been selling his body for heroin?
Quickly, if not painfully, he learned to survive on the streets by first selling his body for shelter, then later for drugs until he existed in a world filled with pain, hunger, and an endless search for drugs. And all this he faced bravely, fighting day to day to preserve this tenuous grip on life.
Despite his religious upbringing, selling himself came easily. Especially when he realized that during the sex, he held all the power over his older companions. And for the first time in his life, he was the one in control, even if that control only lasted for an hour at a time.
There were times, brought on by the daze of drugs when he fantasized about facing his parents, to show them what he had become, to rub it in their faces. But the love for his brother stopped him. His greatest fear was that his older brother would find out the truth and disown him like his parents had so long ago. That thought alone stopped him from ever returning home long after there was a need to stay away.
Shifting his body till his legs were stretched out, he leaned his head back and stared up into the night sky. Looking into the haze above him, his eyes strained to see through the pollution and twinkling lights of the city.
For as long as he could remember, he would peer at the night sky and try to count the stars in the heavens. Knowing it was
impossible; he would lay there for hours and count himself to sleep.
As he lay there gripping to the last threads of life, staring at the night sky, he wondered once again if there really was a God up there that looked over humanity. An all seeing, all knowing being that loved humanity so much that he would die for them. In his short life, he had never seen evidence of that kind of love, but if he ever needed to believe, that time was now.
Gathering what remained of his strength, he lifted up his eyes, and said in a raspy voice, "Forgive me, I'm sorry."
As he took the last breath, the sky above him suddenly cleared and the last thing he saw on this earth was a single shining star. His face broke out in a smile and he shut his eyes for the last time.
I was reading Camy's blog and he mentioned that we should post something in Flash Fiction. So having nothing else to do, I decided to follow in his footsteps.
I sat down and wrote without stopping for an hour, just to see what my imagination could accomplish. And in the spirit of sparking creativity, there was no editing, no re-writing of any kind.
Long live flash fiction.
Jason
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Thanks Des, at least I know I'm not filled with wishful thinking.
That being said, how can you have such a boring BF? After all, aren't you a confessed Hippie? What happened to free love and all that?
Jason
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Thanks Cole,
Your words make me feel all funny inside...
Praise from a reader is always nice, but praise from a talented author is almost unbelievable.
Jason (remember I said almost unbelievable, as I know I'm a great writer)
). Why not try writing it as a script?
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To Me
in Poets' Corner
Posted
Simple words invoke such strong images...and "To Me" is filled with such images. Sometimes in the safety of our bed is the only place we can truly be free and happy. I really like this Res...brilliant.
Jason