Max M. Power's Blog, page 2

Two Points of View

I hate the rain.  It’s cold and sad.  I’m getting soaked, stuck in this stupid rain, and it’s all her fault.  Look at her!  She doesn’t even care how miserable I am.  If she would have listened to me we would be riding the bus home instead of walking.
Oh how I love the rain.  I love jumping in the puddles and making the water splash, it’s so much fun.  I’m sorry big brother, but mom says you have to stay with me no matter what.  I know you wanted to ride the bus but I wanted to play in the rain instead of riding in that big old stinky bus.  I wish you could have as much fun as I do in the rain.  Oh look, here comes another puddle.

Capping my pen

It is with a heavy heart that I am announcing I will no longer be writing on a regular bases. Something has happened medically and I am unable to write in the same manner.From time to time, if I am able, I will post something small, but do not expect much.I am redesigning my quotes and free verse in hopes to rekindle the fire in my brain. I have put careful thought into the design, the wording, the font, the colors. I just hope you can feel what I am trying to portray.I have thought long and hard on this and it is not a decision I came to lightly. It is just something I am no longer able to do.No more is more sadden my this announcement than myself. I love the written word and to give it us is painful indeed.If you wish to know why I am no longer writing, send me a message and I will tell you, I owe my fans that much, but I do not wish to disclose it publicly.Thank you for your support and understanding.

Hunting in the Darkness

I have danced with demons, faced Death and laughed in his face. I have fought with things not of this world or realm. I have lived in the darkness my entire life and I have made it my home.  Now there is something new in the darkness and for the first time, I am alarmed. I am not afraid, yet, because I do not know what it is.  It is darkness.  It is surrounding me slowly.  It is cutting me off from the rest of the world.  It is stalking me.  It is on the hunt for I have now become its prey. I am not emotional nor do I feel depressed but I am cut off from the world, being consumed in this new darkness.

Searching For Peace - From The Story Teller book

‘Kids can be so cruel.’

‘Forgive them father for they know not what they do.’
‘Revenge is a dish best served cold.’
‘Vengeance is mine, so sayeth the Lord.’
‘But you can hurt him; break him like he broke you.’
‘He has fear in his eyes.  You don’t need to do this.’
 
“Shut up!  Just shut up!”
“Bu… bu… I di… d… didn’t say…”
Jerry punched Sonny across his jaw.  He did not want to hear Sonny speak.  He did not even want to hear Sonny crying but Jerry knew he could not stop that.
“Still don’t remember me do you, you sorry piece of shit!”
Jerry pushed the barrel of a .45 semi-automatic pistol into the side of Sonny’s head.
“I ought to blow your sorry ass away right here, right now.”
“Please, I’ll give you anything you want.  Ju… ju… just don’t hurt me.”
“Who would have guessed that big BAD ASS Sonny Flores, Captain of the football team, would be cryin’ like a little girl?”
Jerry hit Sonny in the back of the neck with the butt of the pistol. Sonny fell forward into a puddle of dirty grimy black water.  The two of them were standing in a dark alley behind Murphy’s Bar in Detroit.  The bar was located in a rundown area on the “wrong side of the tracks.”
The alley was completely dark except for the single light mounted over the back door of the bar.  The light shined on the two men like a spotlight.  Jerry and Sonny were the only things visible in the alley.
Both men grew up in the ghettos of Houston, attending the same schools since elementary.  Sonny was the cool guy that everyone wanted to hang out with.  Jerry was the fat kid that Sonny use to pick on and make cry.  Hence why Sonny became the cool kid.
As they got older teasing and calling Jerry names was not enough.  Since Sonny always had four guys hanging around him, “yes men,” Sonny decided to get more aggressive.
One day during seventh grade gym the five boys cornered Jerry in the locker room.  Jerry tried to run but Sonny tripped him.  Jerry fell hard on the tile floor, cutting his arm on an open locker.
The boys laughed and walked out.  Sonny got the taste of blood and wanted more.  Whenever Sonny got the urge to inflict pain he would go looking for Jerry.  The boys would beat Jerry on his body, making sure never to hit his face.
Sonny use to tell Jerry that if he ever told anyone Sonny would kill him.  Then Sonny would beat Jerry so bad that Jerry use to wish he was dead.  Jerry learned to hide the bruises and pain very well.
By the time high school rolled around Jerry had slimmed down a lot.  Eighty-five pounds to be exact.  Jerry also grew to the height of six foot even.  Summer was the only relief Jerry got from Sonny and his goons.
Sonny always had to leave for the summer and his “yes men” were lost without their leader.  Jerry thought that this year was going to be different.  He himself was different.
Sonny would not have a fat kid to push around anymore.  In fact Sonny was going to have to look up if he wanted to talk to Jerry face to face.
First day of school was always the worst for Jerry.  Sonny figured he had three months of ass whippings to dish out and he wanted to get it all done on the first day.
At school Jerry tried to stand up for himself but that would only make Sonny angrier.  However, since Jerry was taller and skinnier, it was not as much fun for Sonny as it use to be.
Most of the year was better for Jerry.  Sonny and his goons only beat up Jerry once a week.  Jerry would fight back now of course, but he was always outnumbered.
Since the beatings were not as frequent or as bad as before Jerry was able to make a few friends.  His friends would tell Jerry to stand up for himself and how they would back him up.  When Sonny and his goons showed up it became a different story.  They talked big but when it came right down to a fight they would disappear, leaving Jerry alone.
Sonny decided to go back to teasing Jerry mostly.  He would trip Jerry in the cafeteria, causing Jerry to drop his food tray.  In gym Sonny would try to pull down Jerry’s shorts.  A few times he succeeded.  The mental torture would get worse as school went on.
Jerry wished that Sonny would go back to the beatings every day.  That, at least, Jerry knew how to deal with and no one would ever know.  Sonny, however, was having too much fun tormenting Jerry and was not about to stop.
Senior year rolled around and Jerry had met a girl over the summer.  She had moved from New Hampshire and was a knockout, the hottest girl in school.  She was Jerry’s neighbor and for some unknown reason she like Jerry very much.
Two weeks into the school year Sonny decided he should have the hottest girl in school not Jerry.  Sonny tried embarrassing Jerry in front of her.  But the more Sonny tried the more she felt sorry for Jerry.
The week of Fall Semester finals Sonny had enough.  His popularity was beginning to go down because Jerry was not as affected anymore by Sonny’s cruelty.  Sonny decided time came for Jerry to really suffer.
Jerry was always the last person to leave the locker room during gym.  Sonny waited till everyone left the locker room and locked the doors.  Jerry thought he was alone so he never seen the bat coming as he got to the door.
The room began to spin and Jerry touched his forehead.  His nose was broken and bleeding badly.  Jerry looked up to see Sonny holding a metal bat.  Jerry’s eyes grew large as Sonny swung the bat at Jerry’s jaw, breaking it upon impact.
Sonny wanted to break Jerry’s jaw first so that Jerry could not scream.  Sonny continued to beat Jerry with the bat, swinging with all his might.
WHUMP!  CRACK!!
With every blow Jerry’s bones were breaking.  Sonny made sure to hit Jerry all over his body.  His legs.  His arms.  His ribs.  His back.  The last blow was to Jerry’s testicles.  The pain was so severe that Jerry began to black out.
Sonny dropped the bat and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.  Sonny grabbed Jerry by the hair on his head and dragged him to the showers.  Sonny handcuffed Jerry around the shower stall, facing the wall and forcing Jerry to stand on his broken legs.
Sonny yanked down Jerry’s gym shorts.  He went back and grabbed the bat.  Sonny came back and tied a gag around Jerry’s mouth, tying it tight.  The pain in Jerry’s jaw increased with the pressure of the gag.
Without warning Sonny shoved the handle of the bat into Jerry’s ass.  Jerry screamed, despite his broken jaw, but the screams were muffled by the gag.  Sonny pushed until the lip on the bottom of the bat was inside Jerry.
Sonny then yanked out the bat.  He swung with all his might at Jerry’s hands.  The cracking of Jerry’s fingers as the bones broke was a deafening sound to Jerry.  Sonny took two more swings.  One at each of Jerry’s knees.  The weight of Jerry’s body fell as his knees were broken. 
Sonny turned the hot water on full blast.  It did not take long before the water was scolding hot and burning Jerry’s skin.  His body began to go into shock.  Jerry passed out. 
No one ever saw Jerry again.
 
*     *     *     *
 
‘Kill him.  Shoot him in the head.  He tried to kill you.’
‘Thou shall not kill.  Vengeance is mine, so sayeth the Lord.’
‘Where was God all those years when he was killing you?  DO IT!’
 
“Aaaah!” Jerry screamed as he put both hands to his ears.  “Just shut up and leave me alone!”
Sonny looked at the man holding him hostage.  Sonny had no idea who he was.  The man seemed to be going crazy and Sonny saw a chance to run.
Jerry noticed Sonny was trying to get up.  He pointed the gun back at Sonny.
“Don’t you move you sorry piece of shit.  You’re not going anywhere.  Why the fuck did you follow me here?  Huh?!  What did I ever do to you for you to hate me so much?”
“Look mis… mister, I swear I don’t know you.”  Sonny was trying to suck up his tears.  “I think you got me confused with someone else.  If you let me…”
“The hell you don’t know me!  It took fifteen reconstructive surgeries and four years in rehab to heal the damage you did to me.  Because of you I can never have children.  Now I’m going to die a virgin you sick fuck!  I just wanted to be left alone.  You just couldn’t stand for me to be happy.  All because I was FAT!!”
Jerry kicked Sonny in the gut, making Sonny double over and fall back into the dirty water.
“You ruined my life.  You killed me before I ever had a chance to live!”
“Jerry,” Sonny murmured, “you’re Jerry?”
“That’s right motherfucker,” Jerry shouted as he kicked Sonny again.  “I thought I was rid of you for good.  Then you show up here.  Can’t you just leave me alone?!”
 
‘You know he won’t.  Do it!  Do it!  Shoot him in the head.  Death is the only answer.  It’s the only chance you have at peace.’
 
“Yea.  Death is my only chance at peace.”
“Jerry you weak ass pussy.  You aint got the guts.  That’s why you are a loser.  Always have been and always will be.  Your girl realized that after you left.  We fucked and laughed at you for the rest of the school year.”
 
‘Shoot him!  He deserves it!  After everything he did to you.  Come on, you know you want to.  Just pull the trigger and it all ends.’
 
“No!  Shut up!”  Jerry turned to his left and pointed the gun at the shadows.  “Why can’t you just shut up and leave me alone!  Just leave me in peace!”
“Who the fuck are you talking to,”  Sonny began to stand up.  “Jerry I’m going to take that gun and shove it up your ass.  Just like old times.”  Sonny was laughing as he walked toward Jerry.
Jerry snapped the gun back in Sonny’s direction.
‘Do it Jerry.  Kill him!’
‘No, death is not the answer.’
‘Don’t listen to that pussy.  That’s why Sonny beat you up.  Be a fucking man and kill him.  DEATH IS THE ONLY ANSWER FOR YOU JERRY!’
 
“Just leave me alone!  All I ever wanted is peace and quiet!”
“Losers never get what they want Jerry.”
BAM!
Thump.
Silence.
BAM!
Finally peace and quiet is found as a lone figure departs into the shadows… smiling.

Her Footprints

One night I dreamed a dream.I was walking along the beach with my Lord.Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,One belonged to me and one to my Lord.
When the last scene of my life shot before me,I looked back at the footprints in the sand.There was only one set of footprints.I realized that this was at the lowestAnd saddest times of my life.This always bothered meAnd I questioned the Lord about my dilemma.
“Lord, You told me when I decided to follow YouYou would walk and talk with me all the wayBut I’m aware that during the most troublesome times of my life,There is only one set of footprints,I just don’t understand why, when I need You the most,You leave me.”
He whispered, “My precious child, I love youAnd will never leave you, never, ever,During your trials and testingsWhen you saw only one set of footprints,It was then that I carried you.”

The year I lived with my grandmother she had this poem, so famously printed over surf and sand, hanging in the one place where everyone in the house would see it, the restroom.  Everyone went there and everyone read it before they left the room.  It was a constant reminder for our day to day lives.When I came back home to Texas this poem followed me.  My mother had a copy of the same picture hanging in our restroom.  Bookmarks of it were everywhere and I had one as well.  Every time I would read it, I would think of my grandmother and all that she taught me.But just like footprints in the sand, the surf of time would slowly erase the prints.  This happened when my grandmother took her last breath.I was not fortunate enough to spend as much time with my grandmother as some of my other cousins did but I can recall all the time that I did.  There was so much strength, so much wisdom in this tiny lady, and she shared it with everyone.Discipline was never lacking in my family.  Whoppins and scoldings were plenty.  Even at the end of her life I witnessed this when she was talking to one of my cousins.  That fire burned bright when she scolded her for picking on her younger brother.  I smiled and laughed and that fire was directed at me for laughing at my cousin, burning me like when I was a teen, but this time I was grateful for it. Me and Grandma“I’m sorry grandma,” was my reflex response, but the reason for my sorrow was not what it once would have been.  I was sorry for I knew I would never hear those scoldings words of wisdom again.  I just stood up from the table, gathered the dirty dishes and gave her a kiss on her cheek before heading to the kitchen sink.I can remember ever whoopin I received from her.  Every spoon, every flip flop, and every switch beating I took for my misactions.  Every scolding that followed those disciplines.  I may have been a large young man, but I was never too old to be whooped, as long as she had the strength to do it.At the time each discipline had always been filled me with fear.  Now, I smile and laugh as I can feel my grandmother’s warmth and love with each stroke of discipline.Now I know that when times are hard, when the floodgates of grief open up over missing her wash over me, I can read this poem and know she is with me.  Her footprints will always be with me.

Clowns!!!

With all this over reactions to the Clown stuff going on, here is a little story I wrote in December, 2015.

You're in an office building at night. No one else has access, just you. You're sitting on the toilet doing your business when all of a sudden you hear the door to the restroom open. Your heart skips a beat as your entire body stiffens in silence. You can hear soft footprints shuffle closer as the tips of two really large long red feet stop in front of your stall. You are unable to see through the door cracks. The only thing visible are the large red feet and the yellow with blue pokadots baggy pants. What do you do? - Max M. Power

An Open Letter

I wrote this six years ago today. Still I have no agent. Not sure if that's good or bad.

"Dear Literary Agent,
I have been searching high and low for you, looking everywhere I can for you. I hope to capture your attention and hold it with my written words. I promise you, good or bad, I will stir something up inside you, just ask anyone on the list of people I give you to ask, I have paid them well to speak highly of me. ;)

Forever Yours,

A Writer."

Der Baron

The sirens began to scream, that could only mean one thing, he is returning. Quickly I gulp down the warm dark brew that remained in my hard glass mug.  Slamming it down on the table, I wiped away the residue from my mouth as I ran toward the door.  The other lads, coming from whatever they were just doing, were running toward the same place I was. I jumped up quickly, kicking my feet out in front of me, my right foot, then my left, testing the rudders.  I grabbed the stick in front of me, swinging it round in a circle in front of me, making sure it was free of obstruction. “Contact,” I yell, letting my mechanic know I’m ready for him to cranky my propeller. With a hard yank down, the magnetos catch on the first try, causing my whole craft to shake as the engine sputters roughly before I push the throttle forward slowly, trying not to flood the engine.  The wind generated by my propeller is slapping me in the face with cool air. I push the throttle forward all the way and away I go.  I pull back on the stick just in time to see a silhouette of three wings flying high overhead.  My comrades and I bank to the left, giving chase. In a matter of minutes we are within reach, anger building as he taunts us, flying in a circle, waiting for us to catch up. I hear the sounds of guns firing as the first pilot engages.  He fired too quickly and our joint enemy pulls up into a loop, firing as he reaches the top, smoke puffing out of the engine.  We have sustained our first casualty of the day. One by one I witness my fellow lads fall from the sky.  I am not afraid.  This time things will be different. Round and round we fly, circling each other, but unable to hit him as I fire my guns.  I know he is toying with me as I can hear him laughing at me as he passes over me. Circling back around, he fires on me.  Direct hit.  I bail out, floating down to the ground as he salutes before rolling a barrel roll and flying off into the sun. “Someday I’ll get you, Red Baron!”

This is NOT a fake story

Turns out I have a target on my back and it's coming from Google. So if all of a sudden you can no longer email me or get ahold of me in any way that relates to Google you know why.They have already shut down my apps.  Problem is, Google thinks I can't live without them. They don't know me very well do they?And I thought the Clintons were bad.

I am a Gray Jedi

What does it mean to be a Jedi?  Well it doesn’t mean what you see in the movies.  It doesn’t mean I can move things with my mind or make people do things they don’t want to do with mind tricks. Is there some belief that there is a mystical power that guides us, encourages us in matters of right or wrong, surrounds us and even though we can not see it, we can feel its presence?  No, that’s what the rest of the world calls God. I have studied most major religions in the world and have come to the conclusion that they are all basically the same.  The same Gods known by different names based on different religions.  In all major religions there are different sects, breaking off into smaller parts because they believe slightly different than everyone else, so too is it with Jedi. In every major religion you have those that are calm about their beliefs and you have those who are extreme, believing that all should believe as they do or face death; the light and the dark.  But there is a third, one who can walk on both sides and not be harmed, in the Jedi Order they are called Gray. In the beginning of every religion, all are Gray, living in balance of the positive and negative emotions that live within us all.  Somewhere along the way there was a split, diving people into extremist, even Jedi. The light side believes they are not extremist but when you believe in an all or nothing concept of life then that is an extremist.  The dark side believes in the same concept, just on the opposite end from the light and in separating themselves from the rest have chosen to give themselves a different name, Sith.  Despite what you call one another, Jedi, Sith, or Gray, it is still the same belief, just like in any other religion. The Jedi Code :  There is no Emotion, there is Peace.  There is no Ignorance, there is Knowledge.  There is no Passion, there is Serenity.  There is no Chaos, there is Harmony.  There is no Death, there is the Force. The Sith Code :  Peace is a lie, there is only passion.  Through passion, I gain strength.  Through strength, I gain power.  Through power, I gain victory.  Through victory, my chains are broken.  The Force shall free me. Can you see the extremism?  No this, only that.  Doesn’t give you a choice really.  This is why I chose to be a Gray Jedi. The Gray Code :  There must be both dark and light.  I will do what I must to keep the balance, as the balance is what holds all life.  There is no good without evil, but evil must not be allowed to flourish.  There is passion, yet peace; serenity, yet emotion; chaos, yet order.  I am a wielder of the flame; a champion of balance.  I am a guardian of life.  I am a Gray Jedi. I have always felt I was something more than what Christianity said I was.  I have always felt there is something more to our universe than what the Bible, Quran, or Shruti have to offer.  I have always felt that my soul belonged to another time period, I have always felt I was Samurai. Return of the Jedi was the first Star Wars movie I seen and I knew I wanted to be a Jedi.  I was told the Jedi were bad because the Force was really magic and as a kid that was crushing to me.  As I grew up I still wanted to be a Jedi, I believed in their philosophy more than any other religion.The Jedi Religion was first discussed in 2001, but it was tainted with people trying to do the things in the movies.  When it became an official religion in 2011, I too laughed but was glad at the same time.  I was no longer the only one who wanted to be a true Jedi.I, however, still lived with fear in saying I am a Jedi while being surrounded by Christians.  I know the Bible, I studied for a long time, but I still wanted to be a Jedi.  Still, I lived in fear and that fear was beginning to take over, and I knew that was wrong.  A Jedi should not have to hide. I am a Jedi of the Gray Order, and I will no longer live in fear of telling anyone.  I will be laughed at and poked fun of, but that will be no different than any other time growing up as a Jehovah’s Witness.