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Monthly Archives: August 2016

Bower (By The Hour )

26 Friday Aug 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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bower bird, flamboyant, forest, north queensland, peacock, trinkets

For all of my overseas readers a Bower is a ground dwelling Australian

native bird.

It builds a big nest that is also called a Bower and the male of the species

collects objects usually blue in colour to attract female Bowers.

 

In a rain forest in far north Queensland lives a lonely male Bower bird

But at the moment he is feeling lonely and dejected.

Every time that he builds a bower trying to impress a female.

All they do is give his bower a cursory glance.

Than turn their back and fly away.

 

It is now four mating seasons in a row that his bower has failed to

attract a single female.

He learnt bower building skills from his father.

The best bower builder in the whole state of Queensland.

He doesnt understand what he is doing wrong

All of the blue shiny objects are arranged just so.

But still he spends his nights alone.

 

The male bower bird is weighing up his options.

Maybe he could watch a ‘How to build a bower on You Tube?

Or go old school and read all about it the the bower  builders

owners manual?

 

He is sitting there moping when he is hit in the head by a small

piece of paper.

It is from the ‘Public Notice page of the local newspaper.

 

He puts on his glasses and reads’Having trouble with your bower?

Call me on 1800bower no job too big or small’

 

The male bower thinks long and hard but comes to a decision

So he flies to the top of the tree and makes the call.

And from the other side of the forest his call is returned

It is a long distance call.

 

The bower bird calls and calls explaining the situation.

There is silence from the other end.

Maybe the bower building expert has hung up ?

 

Than the call is returned .

It is Kenneth from bower builder Pty Ltd

‘I am on my way to fix your bower

But i must warn you i charge by the hour’

 

The male bower bird doesn’t care how much it costs

As long as he sees some results.

He is still waiting half an hour later

Surely Kenneth should have been here by Now?

 

Than there is a call from below’Hello are you there?’

The male bower bird hops down branch by branch

When he gets close to the ground he sees Kenneth

And he cant believe his eyes.

 

But at the same time he should have known

Cause before struts a large peacock

Kenneth i presume.

 

From the way Kenneth is prancing about shaking his tail

feathers.

It is obvious that he is batting for the other team

He is really flamboyant

If you know what i mean?

 

But the male bower bird doesn’t care.

As long as Kenneth can help him attract female bowers

He couldnt care less if Kenneth is a Bette Midler fan or not.

As long as he gets the job done.

Who gives a fuck?

 

The male bower bird explains once more about his inability to

attract female bowers to his bower.

Kenneth the flamboyant peacock preens his shiny feathers

than replies’Well darling i think i can help you with your dilemma

You just have to arrange all of your shiny blue objects in a more

Chi Fu way

There is too much ying and not enough yang

Too much dark and not enough light’

 

They stroll over to the bower

And Kenneth the flamboyant peacock gives it a critical eye

‘Yes i can help you.

But like i said during the call i dont come cheap

I charge not by the assignment but by the hour”I think that if i arrange

all of the blue objects so they catch the afternoon sun

It will attract the female eye.

Your bower will shine like a huge diamond ring.’

 

So for the next six hours the flamboyant peacock arranges the blue objects

just so.

Than he pouts his lips stands back and takes a look.

‘Well Kenneth you have done it again’

 

At 2 pm the sun is at the precise angle.

And the bower is shines in a blue light.

Female bower birds fly in from all around.

And even though the male bower is old in bird years.

Now all of a sudden he is the new kid on the block.

 

The blue light shines through the forest.

Female bower birds are even flying in from New Guinea

To see the new kid in town.The male bower cant believe his luck

He is getting more action than he can handle.

 

The male bower bird is walking the red carpet.

He is now so popular that wherever he goes .

He has to wear some cheap sunglasses.

He has that many female suitors he has installed turnstiles

And is charging one dollar for admission.

 

At least that will cover Kenneth’s outrageous charges

Thank Christ he didn’t charge by the minute.

 

The male bower bird doesn’t care.

As long as he has some female company

And a huge shiny lit up bower.

He couldn’t give a shit

With the help from a flamboyant peacock his wish has come true.

So he will gladly pay by the hour.

 

The End.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories, now if you could make a donation so i can achieve my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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A Foetus And Me

12 Friday Aug 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories, Uncategorized

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foetus, mayhem, murder, umbilical cord

My name is Brett Stevens

And i am Fourteen years of age

As i leaving home to go to School my parents told me that

when i got Home.

We needed to have a talk.

 

God i hope it is not that talk

Because they are way too late.

I lost my virginity last week

So talking about sex will be a complete waste of time.

And yes i did wear a condom.

 

I couldn’t concentrate at school i was worried

I hope there is nothing wrong with my parents

So when the school bell rings

I ride home with my heart in my throat

I park my push bike in the garage

And walk inside.

 

My parents are waiting for me at the kitchen table

I go to walk past like i haven’t seen them.

But my mother calls me back.

 

I sit down opposite them

And my mother starts to talk

‘Brett there is something important we need to tell you’

I yell out ‘Too late i had sex last week’

God did i say that out loud?

 

My parents look at me

‘Brett what are you talking about?

‘We need to talk about another matter’

 

‘O h sorry forget that i said anything’

 

My parents look at one another and than my mother starts

to talk.

‘Brett what we have to say is very difficult

We have waited until you are were old enough to comprehend

When you developing inside me before you were born

Another baby was developing at the same time

But the other baby died when it was a foetus

And your body absorbed it’

 

My mind is doing tailspins

What is my mother talking about?

 

Than my father puts a large X ray on the table

‘Brett remember when you broke a rib playing soccer a few

years ago?

This is the X ray that was taken at the time’

 

I look at the X ray and i can clearly see a skeletal foetus attached

to the bottom rib on the right side.

 

This is all too much to take in

I run into my room and throw myself onto the bed

Than i quickly roll over onto my back

I don’t wont to crush my little brother

Jesus what am i thinking about?

My little brother is a dead foetus

A dead foetus inside my body

 

As i lay there on my bed

I cant help but scratch my bottom rib

Maybe if i can scratch hard enough

I can bring my little brother back to life?

 

Wherever i go i scratch and scratch and scratch

I am scratching my skin red raw

But i just keep on scratching

I couldn’t stop even if i tried.

 

Over the following days and weeks i thought that i was

going insane.

But i just couldn’t stop scratching.

Is something moving inside me?

Or have i gone over the Edge?

 

Finally my parents have had enough

And they take me to see a Psychologist

So here i am in the waiting room

Waiting to see a shrink.

 

After introducing himself as Dr Ferguson

The Psychologist asks me to lay down on a couch

Than he starts with the questions about my obsession with

scratching

And how am i dealing with having a foetus inside me?

 

I dont know how to answer all of the questions

I just want to go home.

Than i feel a massive pain in my right side

I lift up my shirt

And a large lump is pushing out

 

The Shrink and i cant believe our eyes

Like a giant pimple or blackhead the lump is getting

bigger and bigger.

Than it erupts

And with a splat the foetus lands on the Shrinks face.

 

The Shrink tumbles and and falls back striking his head against

a coffee table.

And judging by all the blood and brain tissue

I am  fairly sure that he is dead.

 

The foetus runs around the room like a demented chucky

Attached to what looks like a bungee rope.

Than i realise that it must be an umbilical cord

I scream at the top of my lungs

And the foetus springs back into my body

Like a cord of a vacuum cleaner.

 

My screams have probably been heard five miles away

The Receptionist and my parents rush into the room

I quickly pull my shirt back down

Then they see the Psychologist on the floor

 

I tell that we were just talking

When he went all white clutching at his chest.

Than he fell back hitting his head on the coffee table.

 

The Receptionist calls the police

And after they check the scene and ask me questions

I am told that i am free to go home

I sure am glad to get out of there

 

At home i go straight to my room

And lay face up on my bed.

I lift up my shirt and wait.

And soon enough the foetus pokes his head out

 

He looks out at me

Then squirms out onto my chest

Than the foetus starts to talk Thanks for all the scratching

and rubbing’

‘You brought me to life and i will never forget it’

‘What is your name brother?’

 

Than the foetus starts to yawn.

He tells me that he is going to have a snooze

So he crawls back inside.

 

I just lay there thinking.

Than i go out to the garage to get a roll of duct tape

Maybe if i can cover up the hole the foetus will suffocate?

 

Back in my room i apply the duct tape

Than i to decide to have a snooze

And hopefully when i wake up the foetus will be dead.

 

But after a while i feel the duct tape being pulled away from

the hole.

‘You will have to do better than that Brett

I can breathe through your skin and from your mouth and

your nose

‘I can even breathe from your pee hole and arsehole’

 

I dont know what to do

Maybe i should ask my parents to cut it out with a knife?

Or call a priest to perform an exorcism?

Maybe if i take a bath the foetus will drown?

So i fill the bath tub with water

And i climb right in.

 

A few bubbles come from the hole in my side

Than the foetus comes out and dives into the water

And proceeds to swim back stroke

 

Nice try Brett nice try’

 

Than the foetus climbs up onto my stomach

Reaches back and grabs hold of my little shrivelled dick

‘That was your last chance Brett

If you try to destroy me again

I will rip this thing off

And ram it down your throat’

 

Than the foetus tries to climb back into the hole

But he want fit

Than for the first time i notice that he put on a lot of weight

 

‘Looks like i am staying out here from now on

And do you know why Brett?’

And he holds up the umbilical cord

 

‘Every time that you eat most of the nutrients will enter

my bloodstream

‘I will grow bigger and bigger

Than i will take over your body completly’

 

‘No’ I scream at the top of my lungs

Before i can stop them my parents race into the bathroom

My father goes to say ‘What in the fuck?’

When the foetus springs out and grabs a pair of Scissors

from the vanity

And stabs my father in the left eye

My mother is hysterical and screaming to the heavens

The foetus clamps onto her throat

And rips it out.

 

I am hyperventilating i can barely function

But i have the presence of mind to grab the scissors

Then i grab hold of the umbilical cord and make eye contact

with the foetus standing on the vanity.

 

‘Dont do it Brett

If you cut the cord both of us will die

Is that what you wont Brett?

 

Again i dont know what to do

I cant think straight.

I look down at the scissors and start to squeeze

 

Will i cut the cord?

Will we both die?

 

The answers will be revealed

But you will have to come back and read

Part Two.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories, now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can achieve my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Mutant Moth (Part Three)

05 Friday Aug 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories, Uncategorized

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blood sucking, death, moths, mutants

In Part Two

My House was virtually Destroyed by large Mutant Moths

I was struck in the Hip by one of those Cat Sized Moths

My Hip Bone was Broken and it stuck out like a Lamb Shank

 

Than I was covered in Gossamer Threads like a Giant Human

Cocoon.

I was Trapped there for Days with nothing to Eat or Drink

And i was forced to Urinate in My Pants

 

The Giant Mutant Moths were attracted to the Smell of the Urine

They stuck Their Feeding Tubes through the Cocoon

Sucking up the Wet patch in My Groin.

 

So once i escaped from the Cocoon

Using My Broken Hip Bone as a Saw

I remembered that the Jackson’s who lived Three Doors down

owned a large Swimming Pool.

 

 

 

So all the People in the Neighbourhood rushed down to the Jackson

House.

And Urinated into the Pool.

And the Mutant Moths were all lured in like a Bear to a Honeypot

The Mutant Moths were soon overwelmed by the Urine

A Cover was placed over the Pool sealing in the Moths

And all of the Giant Mutant Moths Drowned in the Yellow Water

of Death.

 

But unbeknowns to Us a Few of the Mutant Moths

Had Ripped a hole in the Plastic Cover

And had made Their Escape.

 

Part Three.

The next Morning i was laying in Bed

Recovering from the previous Days Ordeal

I was having a Pleasant Dream.

When i was awoken by a Scream coming from the Jackson House

 

Jesus just when i thought the Fight was Won and the Mutant Moths

were gone for good

That Scream doesnt Sound good.

So i throw on some Clothes and Run as fast as i can.

 

I get there at the same Time as some of the Neighbours

We race around to the Backyard

Where Mr Jackson is Hyperventilating and Pointing at the Pool Cover.

 

Than We notice the large Slashes in the Pool Cover

We are in mighty big trouble.

Some of those Mutant Moths have Grown to the size of a Small Dog

And some of them are on the Loose.

 

Than Mr Jackson starts to Pull the Cover off the Pool

I Scream at Him to Stop

But i am too late.

 

Once the Sunlight and the Oxygen Hits the Pool Water

One Hundred or so Mutant Moths Start to Twitch Their Legs

and Spread Their Wings

The Mutant Moths are back from the almost Dead.

 

The Mutant Moths Climb out of the Yellow Water

And start to Dry out on the Concrete Pool Surrounds

 

I know that We have to Move Fast

Because if these Mutant Moths Dry out and Fly away

We will have a Nation Wide Disaster on Our Hands.

 

So We all Grab whatever We can get our Hands on

Rakes Brooms Shovels but it is all a waste of Time

The Mutant Moths have Grown too big to Handle

We try the best that We can but They are just too big and Strong

Then They test Their Wings like newly Fledged Birds

And take off to Destinations unknown.

 

We are all in a state of shock as We watch those Motherfuckers

Fly away.

All We can do is Sit on the Ground and scan the Skies in case those

Mutant Moths Return.

If only We had Eyes in the Back of Our Heads

 

My next Door Neighbour Mrs Jones is holding Her Three Year Old Sons

Hand.

When One of those Dog Sized Mutant Moths Swoops down from behind Us

and Scoops up Billy.

And carries Him to a Tree Growing near the Pool

 

Mrs Jones is Hysterical Screaming for Her Son

We can only watch in Horror as the Mutant Moth  Punctures Billy’s Chest

with its Probiscus.

Then starts to Suck all of the Bodily Fluids from Billy.

When Billy is nothing but Skin and Bone

He is Dropped into the Pool.

 

We thought that the Mutant Moths had Flown away

But They are Circling the Neighbourhood like Vultures just waiting

for a chance to come in for the Kill

It is like being locked in a Prison Cell

The Mutant Moths are the Guards

And We are the Inmates.

 

The Sun is just starting to Set.

So the Twelve of Us grab some Chairs and Sit in a Circle

hoping that somehow We can keep the Mutant Moths at Bay.

 

Than the Screaming starts as One by One the Neighbours are Probed

than taken away to be Sucked Dry.

We have been Trying to call the Authorities but We cant get through

Somehow the Mutant Moths are Blocking the Signal.

But than i Hear the Sound of an approaching Helicopter

Thank God now We have a chance of Surviving.

 

It is not One but Three Helicopters.

They barely get a Chance to access the Situation when Twenty Mutant

Moths Attack each Helicopter.

It doesn’t take long before the Pilots start to lose control of their

Machines.

Than the Three copters Spiral out of Control and Crash into the Street

in a Huge Fireball.

 

Then Ten or more Police Cars arrive on the Scene.

But They to are set upon and every Police Officer is Drained of His Fluids

and left Lifeless where They Fell.

 

Now i know that We are in Mortal Danger.

The Mutant Moths are still Hovering around than Dive Bombing down

picking a Victim of Their Choosing.

 

I know that Our only chance to Survive is to somehow make it to the

relative safety of the Jackson House.

I Yell out to the Others to Run to the Jackson House but i get no reply

I look to the Person Sitting next to Me  and i can See that She is as white

as a Ghost.

 

We were all caught up in what was happening to the Helicopters and the

Police Officers.

That We took our Eyes off our own situation.

I look at My Other Companions  and notice a Huge Mutant Moth attached

to their Ankles.

They have all been Sucked Dry and Died right in front of Me

And i didnt Notice a thing.

 

I go to Escape but i cant move My Leg.

In fact i cant Feel My Left Leg but i can See the Mutant Moth Attached to

My Ankle.

Than another one lands on My Thigh and Probed Me until it hits My

Main Artery.

Then it starts to Feed.

 

I know that i am a goner.

I cant move or Feel any part of My Body

Yet another one of those Fuckers lands on My Face and Probes until my

Right Eyeball is Punctured.

And the Contents runs down My Face like a soft boiled Egg.

 

Thats it i feel Myself Slipping away

Goodbye Cruel World.

 

The End

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories, now could you please make a donation so i can achieve my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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