Prose and Poetry

All content copywrite 2003 by jeffslegacy.com. Duplication prohibitedwithout express permission from the Administrator of this website.

Thefollowing short stories and prose was mostly written during Jeff's last years, buta couple of them were from his high school years and I feel that he had a lotof insight on the world and life back then and wanted to share them with you.

Terrorists

(Note: This is a story about terrorists that I found on a floppy diskrecently. Jeff wrote many interesting stories for his high school EnglishClass. Several of which are further below.)

A terrorist is a person who believes in his God and his people. In mostcases this would be a good thing, but taking innocent and harmless people'slives to force the government to give them lenience on their men or spies iswrong. They use people to get what they want and don’t understand that by doingthis, it comes back on them just as hard. All they are doing is wastinginnocent people’s lives and using them as a wedge for getting on our backs anddigging in with their nails and biting the back of our necks, but we just biteback. We get in their face and tell them to stop the violence and to speaktheir anger. They don’t, so we sink down to their level and get them angrier.

The Iranians and Palestinians are more at war with themselves than with us.They fight with their minds and hearts, because they have so many feelings theyhave to keep inside just because that’s what they were taught. They feel so muchpain for a person of their society that they think if we can feel the sameamount of pain we'll quit giving them those feelings.

I think most of the problem with us and the terrorists is communication. Wecan talk to them and plead with them all we want, but we can’t be in theirshoes or them in ours. We could never learn how to feel how they feel becausewe don’t have their background or see how they could visualize us. This is alsothe same for how they see us and it’s a sad thing because, just maybe, if wecould imagine how they feel, or understand their problems differently, and thesame for them, we could possibly understand and work out our differences. Untilthen I don’t think we will ever actually understand each other.

Flower of Pain

(Note: Jeff was fascinated by stories of vampires when he was youngerand several of his works reflect that interest. This one sounds bad in the endbut he is actually comparing himself, as a vampire, to a thorny rose)

I sit here in the rain wondering if I will notice it stop again. Water istouching my face, rushing the flood of sadness through my mind. A deep, darkpit of emptiness is swallowing my thoughts once again. I feel for others thatare not there. I can see my eyes in the clouds - clouds full of anger stareback! No mortal soul could ever know what I feel and yet I let them try. Atfirst it's like a flower seed, roots pushing through the earth taking innutrients. The seed grows and reaches for the air. Itssimple touch just a mere quiver in the night. That seed gives birth to a bud, abud that learns quickly how to survive. The bud blooms into a beautiful flowerso attractive no one notices the dangerous thorns that bleed them. But theflower starts to wilt. The petals can never feel the sun' rays across its face.It can never feel the warmth of day or the grace of a sunset. The flower turnsugly and catches people as they walk by. A disease-ridden flower it becomes,and death I must bring to it before the madness begins again. So I sit here inthe rain. My body numb from the pain. The grass grows around my feet. The skyturns to dust and lightning strikes. The clouds burst and again I sit here inthe never-ending rain without even a soul to comfort me until I kill again.

Mirror Image

(Note: This short work is very disturbing to me. It was during the timeshe went to a small lake in the Sierra Nevadas calledManzanita Lake. I took him there several times when he was a child and did notknow he loved it so much. It had lots of mosquitos sohe named the creek running into it Mosquito Creek. When we decided to spreadsome of his ashes at his favorite spot, it took a while to figure out whereMosquito creek was since Jeff made up the name. He went there to unwind fromwork because he was already showing signs of his disease with slurred speechand several of his co-workers were making fun of him. He knew he was very sickbut every doctor he talked to told him it was psychological and he neededpsychiatric help. This depressed him greatly and the times he spent at Mosquitocreek were times of reflection on his life and his future. This work reallysums up the way that Jeff felt for a while...very alone and scared. I just wishI knew how worried he was at that time about his condition. He moved in with mea couple of months later and the rest is history, but these first few monthsmust have been very hard for him, and he seemed to be most prolific at writingduring this period in his life.)

I stare into a mirror, an evil mirror full of hate. Hate from a world fullof pain, my pain! The colors I see around me are dull. The flowers I placebefore me all wilt. Life has no beauty for me. I feel I am an eagle bornwithout wings. I feel as powerful as that eagle. I yell and people listen. As Ipass by, people turn to look, but the faces I see before me are full of pity.The stars shine down calling me. My brother and sister want me but all I can dois look up and see a tear drip from my eye and whereit falls, death follows. Evil hearts light at my heels. I stare into the mirror,an evil mirror hollow throughout. My portrait stares back. A disgusting,disfigured man. A broken soul - myself! I try and smile but the reflectioncontorts into a scornful look. The mirror shatters from a move I never felt.Sweet, simple red blood drips from the wounds in the mirror. The reflectionscreams for revenge. Pain and suffering with no cause. Smooth waves ofdepression rush in. Why are people laughing? So many faces laughing. Stop thelaughter before it turns to pain pounding into my ear. And suddenly, thelaughter stops! Sweet red blood falls like rain. Warmth settles through mydying body and the only reflection I see is myself - my own face. For oncetruly something looking at me!

Start of a book about a Vampire?

A field of golden flowers and glorious green trees surround my specialplace. It looks as if no other soul has placed a foot on this spot of the Earthsince her glorious birth. My face is warm under the sun's gaze. My hands aretickled by the moving green beneath them. The sensuous ground pillows my headlike the softest pillows no human can make. This is where I come to die! I havenot seen the sun for thousands of years now but by the brilliance of colorphotographs and the wondrous invention called color television I can watch mymorning dawn over and over again.

Wait, I have forgotten to introduce myself. Where have my manners gone?Please forgive my adolescence. I'd like to tell my tale. My name is ___?___ (heleft this name blank, possibly hadn't thought of it yet). I was named after adevil that did not follow the path of the devil or the gods, but made his ownrules for his evil games. I was given this name by my father though he was notmy father by blood. He called me this because my mother had an affair with thepreacher of our old town's church. My father resented me and sent me away atthe age of six. My true father was hung. I do not hate them for the tormentthey caused me. I felt it was the way of the world. I was sent away to thecamps to work though I'm sure to this day in the children's history books thatare read at school, they would be called slave camps. We did not work formoney, we worked for our lives and the meager little food we could find. Thatwas all we knew! I stayed in these camps until I was sixteen. I was turned away- I had served my purpose and survived.

I could not remember what the outside world felt like, but enough about thepast. So many of my brothers and sisters start with the past. Why always bringup a world that doesn't exist anymore? We will speak of my past later. Though Ido not wish to, I need to point out something of importance so you as thereader can understand my reasons for what I am going to do as soon as the lastword is written in this book.

[…That is all I could find of this book…]

Another start of a book or a later chapter in the previousbook

As she sits in her chair, her mind is full of despair. Simple glances ofthings so sweet - simple thoughts fill her head of things past. The stroke ofher hair, the touch from his hand, the soft glow from his skin. Then the painkicks in. All these simple thoughts are lost. Her pain grows as she looksaround the room. People are laughing, flirting and shying away from thestranger's touch. That greedy feeling floods her again. The hunger burns herveins with anger. A simple fool walks her way. He sees the drink that neverseems to empty though her lips touch the glass more than enough times to emptyit. He had been watching her for some time now, holding her stare stronglythough not being able to see her eyes. He sits down next to her with the graceof a cat. He looks at her and truly sees her for the first time. Even in herfit of hunger, his smile, so cool, warms her spirit. She realizes she couldlove this one. A young fool barely old enough to be called a man yet not youngenough to be called a boy. His blue eyes mingle with hers. He takes her hand inhis and still not a single word has even been spoken. She looks at their handssuddenly, not remembering if she had willed him to reach for her hand or if hehad willed her to take his. She is astounded how this young man could move herso.

She did not realize that she was staring into his eyes until they weredancing in circles. Their minds formed silent words as they moved their feet. Adance they both did not know and yet it seemed that they had stepped thesesteps with each other many times before. Silence still held both of theirthroats. She realized all eyes were on the two of them and led the way to thedoor. Cold air and the smell of rain rushed to greet their warm faces. Hissmile seemed to deepen at the sight of the rain which made her curious evenmore. Was he what he appeared not to be? She looked at him with a curious staretrying to read him finding that all of his thoughts were closed. The rainseemed not to touch them though they were both soaked. He led her to her limo.Funny, she thought, how he knew exactly what vehicle was hers. As they sat, thesoft leather felt like ice burning through their skin. This was her huntingground. Memory returned to her of what she was and what she had to do. With thereturn of her memory came the return of a hunger no human could ever know. Herkiss was the end to all life she touched. She realized she was telling himabout her last love. She could not recall speaking to him or him speaking toher, and yet pieces of conversation and names returned to her as she thoughtmore of it. Before she new what was truly happeninghe was kissing her. His lips were soft against hers. A real kiss, a human kiss!Something she had forgotten about for a long time. It felt good. How could thisman seduce her so? She knew now that he was next, what she was, and yet hestill felt as if he was the same.

She had to end this. Her emotions, usually null and calm, were clouding hermind with human thoughts. Making love and holding hands, these were all humantraits. He began kissing her neck slowly and was very sure of himself. The painwas small and almost invisible to her. She felt the prick of teeth just the same.She started to push him away but he would not move. She felt her blood flowover his lips. For a moment, she didn't want him to let go. The sweet pain thatis of death and life. Heartbeat for heartbeat. They were one. She hated him,loved him, wanted to kill him. Life flowed into her eyes realizing what washappening. With all of her strength left she shoved him away more easily thanher last try. His face was distant and wrapped in joy and pain as her bloodpulsed through him. Death was taking him as he felt the turn. But it was wrong.He was actually dying. It wasn't supposed to be this way. "You stupidfool," she said. "If death is what you seek, I will give it toyou!" She attacked him then, ripping into his neck as pleasantly as he haddone for her. He smiled at her. When she saw that smile she refused to acceptit. He had deceived her. He knew what she was and used her to try and becomeit. Why any fool would want the dark gift so badly was beyond her, but how hehad hypnotized her with his eyes she wished she could know. He spoke softly inher ear panting for breath as if making love. "I knew if I approached youand asked, you could kill me. If I trusted you, you would have killed me. So Iloved you and know that you will let me live!"

[That is all to this book that I could find…again, maybe part of the first?]

 

 

 

 

Thefollowing poetry was found on floppies, hard drives and on paper Jeff hadwritten when he went up to the Sierra Nevadas after abad day at work. He loved the mountains and it was here that he worked out alot of his frustrations with his yet unknown disease by writing.

I see it all!

I see it all
and yet I am blind.
I hear it all
and yet I am deaf.
I feel it all
and yet I have no senses.
My mind is full
and yet I remember nothing.
My heart beats
and yet is completely dry.
My soul is free
and yet I am bound.
And in all this agony of life
I seek,
Death seems the only way to be free.
And yet death is the creator of
all things bound.
The silent keeper of sleep never found.

A Single Rose

A single rose born into this world,
its petals ripe with life.
The summer sun beats down on its growing body.
Autumn winds lull it with sleepy dreams.
Spring showers glimmer on its shining leaves.
And then, clouds will form.
Icy winds will blow and cold rains will fall.
The rose's sweet red petals will turn blue
and the shiny leaves will fall from its evergreen stem.
As the slowly dying rose bends its stem towards the earth,
its last frozen petal drips ice on the ground.
The clouds will pass and the warm sun will shine
and the young rose will rise again.
You are this rose ever living in a world of beauty and defeat.
You are the one that can survive life's coldest winters
and live happily in the summer's warmest breeze.
Life will let you down,
but you will push on
to live your happy life again and again!

Nothing Else Matters

You came into my life with open arms.
Your smile touched my soul.
Your touch is as soft as the wind.
Your lips are sweeter than the finest honey.
Can't you see what you do to me?
Can you feel my heart beating next to yours?
Our breath slows,
our hearts beat as one.
I am breathless around you.
The simplest thoughts of you and my face
warms into a wonderful smile.
All my life I have felt an emptiness
Watching
Waiting
wanting you to fill that emptiness.
This is how it was supposed to be
and nothing else matters!

One Single Sound

Life is hard yet we live it our way
Holding our hearts close like always
Spreading our words the hard way
And it always takes my breath away.
In the night of darkness
life dies with one single sound.
Kids killing kids for pennies
Children pretending to be men.
A 12 year old with a story
A little boy never to see his teenage years.
So I come to you with my problem
A single soul trapped in a battlefield.
And all I do is watch the news and see the lonely mothers cry
Their only sons, all of them have died!
In the end a war will break
It will be the war of the States.
Brothers killing brothers for the profit of another
Children killing parents to be a member.
And in the end, it will all start again
Life will die with one single sound
and another child goes down!

Watching

I watch you through mechanical eyes.
You never know they are watching you but you acknowledge that they are there.
I watch you doing your job in your own little way.
Moving through the crowds with a slow urgency and simple grace.
I see you move,
I see you walk…
bend…
lift…
and I watch.
The eyes let me see things most eyes do not
For with these eyes comes no sound.
I see your sweet lips form words not heard by my ears
But my mind tells me what you say.
My dreams of happiness write new pages
As I watch you lean against your chair.
Sometimes smiling
Sometimes yawning
Sometimes laughing
Sometimes frowning.
No matter what,
your face of silence on flat screens
Always so beautiful
Your face tells me.
I only wish your eyes
Staring out at nothing
Taking in everything
Would be staring right back into mine!

The Vampire

I sit in silence watching time passby.
I live in loneliness looking through hollow eyes
I feel emptiness with the touch of dead skin.
This body is an empty shell which I live in.
My spirit is trapped from empty rage.
My life is left in a void.
The only pain that I feel
Is the hunger for your love.
My limbs move in swiftness.
My movements cat -like and fast.
My eyes so dreamy
But I can see into your mind.
My face is boyish and passionate
But I have the devil's smile.
My lips hunger for yours
But my teeth hunger for your neck.

I've followed you for three longyears now.
The time has come!
I can't take any more longing.
I can't stand all this pain.
When you look at me and smile
I feel my body start to drain.
The feelings I feel are hunger and love
But they all feel the same.
I want you so bad but I don't know what it will gain.
I want to love you but it will only bring you pain.

I need you
I love you
But I can't ever touch you.
I'm a beast behind the smile.
You've seen me and you know me
But you don't know what I am.
You love me
You fear me
And all I need is the taste.
It's your choice now my sweet.
Live in fear or die for me
And never die again!
We will live together
Through the streets of gold.
We will be powerful
And never grow old.
All your life lived is up to this point.
Give me your blood and I'll give you the choice.
I'll teach you the ways and wonder
And all the mysterious gifts.
You'll be beautiful forever
And someday turn from me
And share your new gift.
And on that day I will shed
a single red tear from my eye
to show you I love you.
I am Nosferatu!

The Soldier

At first the call.
The wind howls and the soldier looks in vain
To hear the fall
And the cry of the battle call
As he rides into the wind
Screaming your name.
Heat and passion mixed into one.
No one knows who has won.
Blood-lust screams of pain
And yet to him it is all the same.
He kills for you.
He would die for you.
All this is told from the scream of your name.
Life…death becomes us all
And all must come again!
But for you, the journey is over
Another heart is sacrificed into the wind.
Enjoying all that the cool wind can bring
Only wishing it was rain!

Once in a blue moon

Once in a blue moon
All things turn to gloom
The love you want doesn't want you.
You feel as blue as that moon.
All your life you look into a mirror
Seeing a face you do not know.
Your lips hurt every time you try to smile.

AND THEN SHE COMES ALONG!

Your face suddenly appears in frontof you.
Your lips twist into a smile.
Your eyes glow like fire.
All your life you wait for this moment

AND THEN SHE TURNS AWAY!

Your eyes dwindle into dying coals.
Your smile fades away.
Your mind goes blank
Your life feels pointless.

WHY DO YOU GO ON?

Because even though that woman leftyou.
Even though she is gone.
The coals remain hot inside you.
You've just learned that love is forever long!

A POEM FOR YOU!

(8 years after Jeff died, I was crying deeply one night remembering his last minutes and he wrote this poem in my head to comfort me. Quite beautiful!)

 

I am the wildflower blowing wistfully in thebreeze.

I am the eagle soaring high above the trees.

I am the rainbow high in the sky.

My body is gone but I did not die.

 

Do not be sad for me.

For I am happy and free.

 

I have left the tethered bonds of this Earthbehind.

But I will always be with you inyour mind.

When you are done with this life and aimlesslyroam.

I will find you, take you in my arms andlead you home.

 

Do not fear your life to be.

For you will share it eternally with me!