Pirates Don’t Cry

At a fancy pirate a show, once, a small young lad did go.
He sat up front, in the row marked “one”, he thought that he might have some fun.
You see the boy was sad that day; pirates might put his tears at bay.
But before a single line was spoken, the boy’s steadfast countenance was broken.
And as the curtain began to rise, tears welled up in the small boys eyes.
Before scene one was even ended the boy was sobbing, unattended.
His parents were nowhere to be found; no one to tell him to quiet down.
A man on stage, as pirate dressed, put his prudent hand inside his vest
And walked to the platform in front of the boy, where after he did employ
The best pirate impression you ever did see (at least that’s if you were asking me.)
He leaned over the stage pointing his cane at the chil. Even at this, the boy never smiled.
The pirate man leaned over to say not to wipe his tears away.
He turned to his crew asking if pirates did cry, they all chimed in with a hearty “Aye”
But the boy stood up and with his tears still streaming and said “No they don’t” and then began screaming.
“A pirate is strong and never backs down; a pirate would never put on a frown.
Pirates are mean and fast and tough, pirates are never afraid to get rough.
But on the question of crying you do present, the answer is no, but to an extent. A pirate could cry at a cut or a bruise or if he lost his large pirate shoes
But on this day I say to you a pirate should be tough, through and through.”
The boy then collapsed in a heap on the ground and when poked or prodded he made not a sound.
Why the boy we sad we never will know, or why they stopped performing that pirate show.
But some day if you are sad, stop and look to the sky, and you might see the boy telling you “Pirates Don’t Cry.”

The Diamond Ring: A Bedtime Story 

One upon a time, there was a beautiful diamond ring. He lived in a display case with other rings,necklaces , and trinkets. The shop owner was always kind and helpful. Routine check ups, cleanings, and a cushy place to lay all day while everyone admired you. It was a posh life for the diamond ring.

The ring lived content lay for a while. Enjoyed his life of simplicity but then he looked around and there she was. A customer. No. THE customer. The ring wanted to be hers at that very moment. He knew that  was the finger he wanted to be on the rest of his life. The beautiful customer walked up to the counter. There was someone with the girl. A boy perhaps? Perhaps not? The diamond ring did not care as his focus hadnt shifted since the moment the beautiful customer entered the room. She slowly made her way to his display case and he wiggled in his little cushion holder to make sure the light was hitting him just right.

She walked up. Sat down. Pointed directly at the diamond ring and said “that’s the one”

The diamond ring was ecstatic. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he had enough clarity or karats to be on a finger like that. Attached to such and exquisite woman. He’d probably bring every outfit down.

But the woman wore the diamond ring every day. She loved the diamond ring. He saw all he friends and her friends all thought he was shiny and sparkly and that made the diamond very happy.

Time continued on like that for a while: Smiles and “congratulations” and “it’s gorgeous”. This all made the diamond ring happy. He was right were he wanted to be.

As the seasons changed, and the beautiful woman had to return to work. She worked on a farm and couldn’t wear it there because it may get lost or dirty. She decided the ring would be worn on weekends and days off, which was fine for the diamond ring. He’d still get the occasional compliment.

But soon those weekends were spent with friends dancing and living and work had more hours because she was so successful.

And the diamond ring rarely came out of the jewelry box. Until one day the lid opened and she picked him up. He was so ready to be reunited. To be happy again. But something strange was happening. She wasn’t putting him on.

She was giving him away. The diamond ring did not want to go away but he was quickly placed into a small black ring box. And from the point he has never moved.

But where is the ring now you might ask? Still in the box in an attic collecting dust? On a new finger? Under a couch cushion?

 Or was he sent back to a store, 

exchanged

Traded

Or sold
For something better

The Farmhand and the Flower: a Bedtime Story

In a dark patch of forest far far away there grows a flower. But this is no ordinary flower. It’s been said that few who roam the wood will ever find it. But to those lucky few who spot it’s petals peeking through the surrounding foliage, a power awaits them. For you see if this flower is given as a gift, it is said that you can cast a spell of love so strong, it can never be broken. A young farmhand one day while collecting wood for the furnace stumbled across this fabled blossom. “What fortune!” He thought. Many given this gift would woo a monarch, or marry the Pope, or otherwise use this precious flower for heinous means. But the farmhand had only one interest for this flower. It was a young peasant girl. She was a fair young lady. Neither extravagant nor plain and yet to the farmhand she was queen of this land. He approached the young peasant girl, gripping the flower so tightly that its thorns dug into the flesh of his palms. His eyes met hers and in that gaze the farmhand knew that there were no other eyes he’d rather look into. He handed the young peasant girl the flower and watched how her eyes turned from indifference to adoration. Things were simple after that. The couple soon found themselves together for years; their love stronger than the fine metals that forged thief wedding bands. And yet, the farmhand noticed a change in the peasant girl. Her smile which once gleamed with radiant joy a the sight of him had turned to a whistful look out a nearby window. Her laugh which had previously echoed with mirth now was only sighs and glances to the floor beneath her feet. The farmhand was confused. Had the spell not worked? Had it worn off? He approached his wife and asked what had changed. Where before was contentment was now resentment, where once was intimacy now there was only distance. She spoke. “From the day you handed me that gorgeous flower, I had loved you earnestly. I do. I always will. But in my dreams, I wonder what could have been. The life I could have led if I had chosen another path. And there are moments when I feel as though my life is a cage and I yearn to break free from my entrapment. My love for you will never fade. But my heart breaks with yearning.” The farmhand stood aghast, tears welling in his periphery. He knew what had to be done. Posthaste, he searched his home for the magical trinket that had helped him years before. He found it locked in a small teak box. In the box lay the flower and a picture from the farmhands wedding. He turned to the back of the photograph and read the words his wife had written “Forever”. The farmhand held his tears. He took the flower from the small teak box and walked to the furnace. He threw the bloom into the flames and in a puff of violet smoke, it vanished. The farmhand walked out to the young peasant girl. There was a silence between the two. An exchanging of glances. Another silence. And then the silence was broken. “It’s ok” the farmhand said. The peasant girl began to cry as she looked into the eyes of the man she once loved so fervently. They embraced and as tears fell from their faces they said their goodbyes. Perhaps they would be temporary, maybe permanent. Like any goodbye, it could be the last one they said to one another. Time will tell. The farmhand waved softly goodbye as the peasant girl rode away. She had an adventure ahead of her. The farmhand waited until his former love was only a spot on the horizon. He turned away and began walking. He went into the forest. Deep into the brush. Deeper and deeper. Into the deep dark foliage where surrounding foliage engulfs whatever dares grow. The man saw a stump in the dark underbrush and sat to catch his breath. He soon found himself becoming very tired and decided to set up camp and follow the trail home in the morning. He had barely finished setting up camp when he felt his eyes began to become heavy and his lungs fill with air as he yawned. He lay his head down on the soft earth and soon fell into a deep sleep. The farmhand never returned home. Many of the townsfolk assumed he’d left,grief-stricken. But with no clue as to his whereabouts, the townsfolk forgot about the farmhand. Until one day a young boy from the town went playing in the wood nearby. He tripped and tumbled down a hill into a dark, overgrown part of the forest. After shaking off his landing he lifted his eyes and saw a small stump on the ground. But adorning the stump was a bed of the most beautiful flowers the boy had ever seen.

Baggage

Baggage

1: I just want to
2: Why can’t you just
1&2: Let go
1: I hate this feeling like I can’t
2: Move. Just leave. Get out.
1: I never meant to
2: Hurt me. All you ever did was hurt me. How can you expect me to
1: Get over it. It’s just bad memories. You can’t let the past
2: The past.
1&2: You can’t let the past
1: Dictate
2: Control
1: Influence
2: Run your life
1: Scare you away
1&2: You can’t let the past be your present.
2: But he
1: But she
2: Hit me
1: Ignored me
2: Slandered my name
1: Broke my heart
1&2: They ate my soul and spit it back out.
2: I wasted my time with you. Years wasted on an abusive adulterous bastard.
1: I thought that we would last a lifetime and now that future is nothing.
2: You gave me a list of hatred and spat in my face.
1: You left me alone when I needed you most.
1&2: How could you do this to me?
1&2: How can I ever
2: Love
1: Trust
2: Be whole
1: Be myself
1&2: Be with you
2: I’m not her
1: I’m not him
1&2: But it still hurts
2: My bones don’t unbreak
1: My memories don’t wipe clean
1&2: My future changed
2: My life changed courses
1: How do I redirect my path?
1&2: You have to let the past be the past.
(beat)
2: I’ll help you
1: How can you?
1&2: I’ll help you. How can you?
(beat)
(look)
1: I’ll hold you
2: I’ll support you
1: I’ll be with you when you laugh
2: I’ll hold you when you cry
1: I’ll hold your hair when you vomit
2: I’ll hold YOUR hair when YOU vomit
1: I’ll buy you food
2: I’ll leave you for food
1: I’ll help you move on
2: I’ll help you grow
(beat)
1&2: I’ll love you
1: And that’s the best
2: And that’s all
1: I
2: I
1&2: We
1&2: Can do.

The Hurting Boy: A Bedtime Story

Once upon a time, there was a mommy and a daddy. They loved each other very much. They loved each other so much that one day they decided to have a baby. But as the baby grew and grew and grew in the mommy’s belly the doctor’s began to notice something about the baby. And the mommy was starting to hurt. The doctors rushed the mommy to surgery. They took the baby out. It was a little boy.  He was very sick and had a hard time when he was a baby. But the doctors took very special care of him and told the mommy and daddy that he would be just like a normal little boy. They didn’t tell the mommy and daddy what they had noticed. The little boy grew up as all little boys do. He was cheerful and a bit mischievous. But even though sometimes he got into trouble, he was a normal little boy. Or so they thought. When the little boy started to grow up into a man things began to change. The little boy started to like girls. But whenever he would try to hug them or hold hands the little girls would scream in pain and run away. You see: this little boy hurt people. Not on purpose. He was a nice little boy. But he hurt people. He tried holding hands with one of girl in a movie theater because she said she’d done it before and it wouldn’t hurt. But her hand seared at his touch. The next time they were going to see a movie, the little girl never showed up. She became very sick and never saw the boy again. The little boy thought he may never find a girl that he wouldn’t hurt. But one day a sweet girl with brown hair came along. She liked sunflowers and whenever he was around she didn’t seem to hurt. They became good friends and were very close. One day he kissed her and she didn’t scream or run. The little boy was happy. But time went on and the girl with the brown hair started to hurt. The boy tried to make it better but one day he got scared. He reached out and tried to touch her but as he got close the brown haired girl she cried. He hurt her badly and now she has a scar. She never spoke to him again. Time went on and the little boy met a funny girl. She liked kittens and dinosaurs and the little boy thought he wouldn’t hurt her. He rushed towards her but she ran away. The pain was too much. He still talks to the funny girl. But they never touch. Then one day the little boy met a strong girl. She knew what it was like to hurt. She liked comic books. The boy rushed towards her but she didn’t flinch. He got close but she didn’t hurt! The boy was happy. They spent lots of time together. They laughed and played. Time passed. The boy and girl were happy. But the girl started to feel funny. The boy didn’t notice. He was happy. But when he was close she began to hurt. She tried not to hurt because the boy was so happy. But one day she told the boy that she’d been hurting for a long time. The boy was sad. He said she shouldn’t be close to him anymore. He didn’t want to hurt her. She left. The boy cried. One day the boy heard a story. A story about a girl who was invulnerable. She could punch trains and not break a pinky. She could jump off buildings and land square on her feet. But the little boy didn’t know her. He didn’t know her name. Or where she lived. He knew nothing. So the boy started walking. As the boy walked down the street people would back away from him. They hurt when he got close. But the boy figured if he kept walking long enough, one day he would walk past the invulnerable girl. The one that wouldn’t back away with the rest of the crowd. And so. The boy kept walking.

What We Had

Lights up. ALAN sits impatiently at a table. After a few awkward seconds, enter BETH.

ALAN: Hey!

BETH: Hey!

They embrace and then sit.

ALAN: So, it’s been a while…

BETH: Yeah…

ALAN: So how’s life? We rarely talk anymore.

BETH: It’s good! Great actually and you?

ALAN: You know. Moving along.

The two then sit awkwardly again for a brief moment before-

ALAN: I still love you, Beth

BETH: Oh boy-

ALAN: And I know I hurt you but I won’t ever hurt you again! I’ve changed! Please, give me another chance and I-

BETH: Alan, just stop.

ALAN: Why? I love you, Beth.

BETH: Because, I’ve moved on. It’s time for you to do the same. You think I never thought about taking you back? After what happened I thought about it. For months I weighed the pros and cons and thought about all the time we’ve spent together and all the love we shared and for a while I almost let it go and took you back. (beat) But then I remembered how I felt the night you told me what happened and I realized I couldn’t ever trust you again. Not after that.

ALAN: Please, Beth….I’m begging you. (beat) I’ll prove you wrong. You’ll see! I’ll listen better, and I’ll be more considerate and I’ll get you parents to like me and we can go to your favorite restaurants and go see Journey in concert on a double date like we always said we would and we’ll go to the zoo to see the penguins and I’ll surprise you with banana splits again and we’ll go see Beauty and the Beast live and everything will be better! I just need one last-

BETH: I’m getting married, Alan.

ALAN:(long pause) What?

BETH: (exasperated) Married! I’m getting married, Alan. (beat) That’s why I wanted to meet you here. To tell you in person.

ALAN: (pause) Oh

BETH: (beat) I’m sorry.

ALAN: (beat) Me too.

BETH: I really am sorry, Alan. And I sincerely wish things could have turned out differently but you made your choice that night and there are consequences for doing that to someone.

ALAN: It was a mistake!

BETH: (snapping) Mistakes have consequences too, Alan.

ALAN: But what we have-

BETH: What we had is in the past. And it was wonderful. And for the most part, I will look back on it fondly. But that past, will never be a part of my future.

BETH waits for a response but an eternity could go by and none would ever be given

BETH: Goodbye, Alan.

BETH exits. ALAN sits alone at the table. ALAN sits in the silence and then removes a sealed envelope from his pocket. Releases a broken-hearted sigh, burns it, leaves it on the table, and exits. Fade to black.

Resolute

Andrew: Remember when we were in 4th grade and they were teaching us about old gods and goddesses? I don’t remember many of those stories anymore, but the one I do remember is Prometheus; the guy who stole fire from the gods. Kind of like a badass Jack and the beanstalk. Have you ever listened to the sound of a gunshot, Jack? Not just heard the noise but really listened to the sound? Had it replay in you head every time you see a white dress? I do. That crack that echoes through the air after the slight motioning of a trigger. Every time I hear that sound, I imagine Zeus hurling lightning bolts down and causing that thunderous crack. Because the power of life and death was never meant for men to possess. To pull a lever and have anyone in your path immediately die. That is power. Raw unadulterated power.The gun is a tool to smite whoever the wilder might see fit. Like a modern Prometheus. Wielding godlike power for whatever you see fit: Righteousness. Justice. Vengeance. Malice. Betrayal. Which brings me to you Jackie-boy. You think yourself godlike don’t you Jackie? I know you do. I saw the look in your eyes you get when you pulled that trigger. When you took from me the only thing that ever mattered to me. You think yourself a god. Well. I think it’s about time you learned how mortal you really are. But I’m not going to shoot you, Jack. That’s too easy. I won’t give you the swift end that you gave Susan. (breaking down) Susan…forgive me. (composing himself) I’m going to hurt you, Jack. Like you hurt me. Like you hurt her. And when I’m done, Hell will seem like a vacation.