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Poem: Message from the shadow Posted 3/28/2009 6:48:12 AM A Message from the shadow… Copyright: Andre Darius Labuschagne (15 March 2009) What is my name? Who am I? I am who I am Nothing more and nothing less I desire to forget Forget today and all its content Drown it in my discontent This uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach Where it contracts diseases and spills forth Destroy yourself, the voice is saying Destroy yourself and be no more I am the one whose existence is not The one whose life’s a lie I am the one who corrupts the soul Fighting for control Give over to the darkness, give over to me Give all you are and you will see Solitude’s the least of your burdens I strangle the heart, and murder the witness I am your nightmare, the reason you scream I’m the essence of your bloodiest dream I am within you, and I rule your heart I destroy you from within I am the dark (0) Comments

Poem: Blank Page Posted 3/28/2009 6:47:31 AM Blank Page Copyright: Andre Darius Labuschagne (15 March 2009) Why am I here? Why is nothing clear? My future seems murky As I drown in the waters of today The page is empty Open before me A world of possibility The page is blank My head is blank My head is empty I am slowly fading Away into eternity If I close my eyes and sleep tonight Where will I wake up? If I close my eyes and sleep tonight Will the sun rise with my soul so bright The white space The vacuum swallowing me The blank page Why am I here? A line separates, creates And I’m lost in the turmoil of reality torn… I am born… (0) Comments

Stories: You’re my Sunshine (or, the flight of Icarus Posted 3/28/2009 6:28:25 AM You’re my Sunshine (or, the flight of Icarus) Copyright: Andre Darius Labuschagne (26 December 2008) “The sun is bright today.” Icarus sat upon the grey rock, his feet dangling in the air, just touching the water. He stared at his reflection in the still, green-blue surface of the lake, the skin fell from his face, his nose but two holes in the centre of his face, as if his head was a barely furnished skull, tufts of hair sprouting in motley fashion upon his cranium. “Indeed.” Clarice sat next to him, caressing his deformed face, running her hand through the little hair he had. She loves me, he thought not for the first time, but insecurity soon took hold again and the thought that he might be a charity case enraged him. He pulled away from her caress. Clarice reminded him of his mother. His mother didn’t want him. For years she tortured him, hurt him, hated him, until she could stand it no longer. He used to be beautiful; he used to be quite a handsome young man with strong features, a regal air and a certain, undefined radiance. His mother could take it no longer, her hatred became too much and she threw him in the fire. He screamed, flailing in the vain hope that the flames would die, but alas it did not. His screams filled the night air, mingling with his mothers deranged laughing. As he writhed in agony, reaching out, his mother stopped laughing and ran into their home. She returned with a bucket. Mother! Help me! He cried out, but his cries were unheard, his voice disappearing in the violent crackling of the fire, his words disappearing in the haze of smoke and burning flesh. She emptied the bucket upon the fire, dowsing him in gasoline. How he survived, he would never know, but he did. Physically at least. Inside he was dead, inside he was empty. He was essentially nothing, unloved. “What’s wrong Icarus?” She asked, but he sat in silence now, staring at himself. “I can sense your inner struggle, there is no hiding, tell me, please?” She reached out to him again, but he chose once again to avoid her touch. “Your touch burns me, not my flesh but the soul encased within this tomb of skin and bone. Let me be, for now at least.” She refused to get up, moving closer instead, also peering into the watery mirror at their feet now. “But why?” She asked him, fleetingly touching his hand. “Because I don’t love you, not at this moment, but maybe as time passes; I have no need for your today, so leave and let be.” He continued staring at his reflection, and she disappeared, no longer acknowledged by the principle of thought, his thoughts. Slowly she got up, and after kissing him upon the back of his head, left. Clarice sat crying upon her bed, her eyes red from the tears. She wished he would look past his past and see her. Oh, how she wished he would wake up from sleeps dastardly embrace, escape this death that held him so, and step into hers. She wished she could comfort him, hold him, love him, but he shut her out. He is so overwhelmed by his loneliness and insecurity that he can’t let anyone close enough to help him make his escape. The grass was soft, almost plush beneath him as he lay upon the ground, staring at the sky. The birds were so graceful, so beautiful, doing their acrobatic twists and turns, circling overhead. He wished he could be like them, free from the bonds of this earth, free to go wherever he wished. Freedom. Everyone told him he was free, everyone told him that he could do what he want, but what he wanted to do was fly. The earth held him captive; he was a prisoner of this world. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe, and his heart beat in his throat as he struggled to regain composure, to regain the tranquility he had just barely been grasping. He was a prisoner, and this tormented him. He was stuck here, ‘til kingdom come, he was imprisoned by this place. Imprisoned by fear. He could feel his heart beat slowing down, as he slowly slipped back into himself, realizing that one day, if he continued working at his plan, he would be able to join the birds in the sky, and that it would be his life’s work to fly before he died. Clarice sat across from him at the table as they ate their dinner. Roast pig, rice, fruits and vegetables. Mother had been cooking all day. Just as Icarus finished picking the last bit of flesh from the large bone, the old, rusting robot came clattering into the dining room, losing an arm in the process, she took the plates but did not leave. “Thank you Mother, it was good.” Said Clarice, and Icarus nodded his approval as she left. For more than fifteen years the old robot had watched over Clarice, the poor orphan who’d been brought to the Island as an infant by sailors who had picked her up off an otherwise deserted lifeboat. No-one knew why she had been drifting out in the ocean, or for how long, but the girl had a certain presence about her, as if she was never alone. When she was younger she used to talk to herself a lot, and the locals were scared of the young girl with her braided black locks and dark brown eyes. She was tainted, the rumors went, she had death in her eyes, she had death in her. Icarus became part of the orphanage when he was ten years old, deformed and destroyed by the flames of his mother’s hatred. Clarice was the only one who talked to him. The other children avoided them like the plague and went about their own way. All the others grew up and left. They stayed. Under the guise of ‘volunteer’ they stayed on, but in fact they only stayed because they knew they wouldn’t fit in anywhere. They were outcasts, and forever would be, exiles from normal society. The night was restless, and Clarice rolled about in her bed, troubled by her dreams. In her mind’s eye she saw Icarus, falling, falling from the clouds into a pit. The pit burst into flames as he hit the ground, trapping him. Smoke blurred her vision as the heat burned the synapses of her mind. Icarus was melting, the fire consuming him, his flesh dripping from his bones as he was slowly reduced to dust. His screams disappeared in the cacophony of shrieking birds, all coming to feast upon the burning corpse, picking scorched flesh from the dying man. She woke up, and finding herself in no immediate danger, she got up and walked down the corridor, the carpet rough under her soft feet. Her breath was fleeting as she approached his room. She had had dreams like this before, all her dreams meant something, and this was a tragic one. She put her hand upon the golden knob. She stopped to catch her breath and then opened the door, praying that the anticipation of death and the terror creeping up her spine was vanity and nothing more. Icarus was fast asleep, smiling as she kissed him upon the forehead. “I love you.” She said, and left. The sun had barely risen when she awoke again, the screams of excited villagers filling her soul with an uneasy feeling. She hurried out the door, and was filled with shock and awe. Outside, amongst the ramshackle huts and shacks, just beyond the fire pit, stood a strange contraption resembling a rocket, but that was no reason for concern. What did however cause her to panic was the fact that Icarus was busy strapping himself into it. She started running towards him, the urgency of the situation even more drastic within the confines of her mind. The glass hatch started closing with a hydraulic hiss. She hammered on the rather thick metal siding, screaming his name. He smiled at her. His hideous face twisted even more by the light and glass. He pushed a rather large, flashing button, and twisted a green knob. The contraption started rattling, smoke spilling forth from under it, and it slowly started leaving the ground. Slowly he took to the air. The machine continued to rattle and shake, and the villagers grew even more excited. He was flying! Clarice couldn’t contain the horrible trepidation that was growing within her, stronger by the second. She screamed, tears flowing from her eyes. The locals rejoiced, cheering him on. Then it happened. Like a phoenix the whole thing burst into flames, spectacularly. It plummeted to the earth but did not break. Clarice ran to the contraption, and peered inside. The fire was roaring inside of the rocket, and she could hear his screams as the fire consumed him. A melting hand slammed against the glass from the inside, and she watched as the flesh fell away, revealing rather a skeletal claw. She scanned around, not knowing what to do; she grabbed a rock and started assaulting the hatch. The skeletal hand fell away, but she continued bashing away at the contraption. Finally the glass shattered, and the flames burst outward, splinters of glass causing blood to flow from her eyes.. She fell back upon the ground, shards of glass piercing her delicate skin. Darkness fell upon her. She looked around, but saw nothing; heard only voices. She saw only Icarus. She saw only his skeletal hand caressing her now misshapen face, closing her eyes, her unseeing but all-knowing eyes, she saw only him. (0) Comments

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General Comments LUV69 Posted 12/6/2008 1:49:24 PM howdy pardner. long time no post buddy boy. what you been up to?? mockturtlesoup Posted 10/10/2008 10:15:12 AM Thanks guys! LUV69 Posted 10/8/2008 7:17:48 PM happy birthday hun!! have a great time and have loads of fun (but not too much fun, eh?) magicalmysterytour Posted 10/8/2008 1:11:34 PM happy birthday mockturtlesoup Posted 9/10/2008 8:25:21 AM Yup, thanks, I have realised this. I appreciate your comments Janis. Thanks. mockturtlesoup Posted 8/24/2008 4:14:18 PM Hey, please take the time to read and comment on my older posts. I know I haven't posted anything other than random observations or short stories, and hopefully I'll get some proper inspiration soon... Thank you... mockturtlesoup Posted 8/23/2008 1:19:36 AM Hey guys, long tim no see, even my sincerest apologies will not redeem me and my lack of internet connection. Oh, woe is me. Thanks for not forsaking me? Lol, luv to all, and to all a good night, I mean morning. LUV69 Posted 4/19/2008 10:17:28 AM hiya... BB1 Posted 4/17/2008 3:43:09 PM Thank you and welcome to Newblog. mockturtlesoup Posted 4/17/2008 3:04:17 AM Hey! Thank you for your comments! I apreciate it... :-D Please login to post a comment.