Sun-Filled Moon

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July 8th, 2018 by Patrick Starks

SUN FILLED MOON MAIN

Who’d ever thought that the moon would be like this, so grey, so oval, so bliss, and yet, it too would have a twist. It had been cloudy for days now, however, there was never a chance for a meatball, no matter how hungry one was. Moon versus sun, sun versus moon, day by day, as we all feared our doom. But the battle would not be long for the moon was stronger and hotter than hot. And on that day oceans shifted into forms unknown, take a look for yourself, are they not? Megalodonn’s, forgotten castles, mermaids, mermen even, you dream it, and it would all be there. It was a rough day for many but we survived; for obvious reasons why I only speak to you now.

Asha wasn’t that old when all of this had occurred, when the moon became our night, our day. His cousins as well would be born into this saddened era, two of which annoyed me more than people who use forks when eating pizza—absurd this is.

Nevertheless, it had been at least twenty, no, twenty-three years to be exact, and still, nothing had changed, not the moon for that matter. And since then many have tried to solve such scientific riddle, yet, never has there been a scientist to decode such a matrix. And many astronauts as well have tried, in hopes that they could find our beloved sun and bring he, she, or whatever it may be back, but not even Wonder woman’s lasso could ever do such. And on that note—divorce your husband and marry me Gale Gadot, sincerely, yours truly. And this will be another story to tell, for my wife must not hear of this.

But relax, I’m only joking. What kind of man do you think I am. Moving on.

The world was no longer the same. Once a little Asha was now big Asha or just Asha he preferred. He was tall, handsome, and reminded me of myself in the olden, no, youngen’ days. He had the wits of his mother, and along with his cousins, surprisingly, they would be the ones to unravel the mysteries of all mysteries.

“We have to think more outside of the box guys,” said Asha. “Why would the moon do such a thing? Why would it hurt the sun?”

The room was quite like prayer at a dinner table—heads stayed bowed, and still, it was only Asha’s lips that moved.

“Cotton, what are your thoughts?” asked Asha.

Cotton was the older of the cousins and his hair was as fluffy as his name. Hence, the name Cotton, Asha’s aunt named him at the Puyallup fair, during her pregnancy. Unfortunately, If his dad wasn’t such a deadbeat and a coward, he might have had a chance to protest against such a name, however, this is a battle not many men win anyways. Nevertheless, the name grew on us all.

“I think. And this is just my assumption but, maybe the Moon was tired of the sun having all the fun,” said Cotton with his black and white composition book in hand.

Asha nodded, as well did I.

“I mean think about it,” said Cotton. “When the sun comes out, people, nature, everything that we can think of embraces its presents. However, when the moon comes out people flee to their homes like mice during a rainy season.”

“Yes, but…” said a young woman from the background.

The woman looked exactly like Cotton. She was the same height, had the same eyes, the same smile, she was practically the girl version of him, that of which she was—they were twins of course.

“Well, go ahead, spit it out already Candy,” said Cotton.

“Well. I find all this hard to believe. It is the laws of nature, the moon must do as it has been created to do,” said Candy.

“Yes sister,” said Cotton. “But some laws are meant to be broken. What laws do you know of that any of us truly follow in this day and age? What laws do you know of that burden many, while only a few benefit from them? I can’t blame it for feeling the way it does.”

The room was silent once more. And if anything, I was just amazed on how three little kids could grow up to be so damn incredible. I envied them, however, I had no regrets. I was a proud father. To bring something into the world like Asha, I can honestly say I had served my duty towards the greater good of humanity.

For three more years, the three planned on how they would get the sun back, and how they would get the moon to realize that it had not been forgotten. Although, the damage had already been dealt and our land was only a wasteland now—it was Fallout 4 all over again, preferably Fallout 3.

There weren’t many shuttles left for many had crashed during multiple take-offs. Might have been the moon that did this, but we will never know until we meet it.

But sooner or later we would find a shuttle, and it was busted like macadamia nuts.Yet lucky for us, Asha was quite the engineer. It took him about a month or two to fix up things, but he got the job done. We then all hopped in and prepared for launch, and for the moment, just a little, thou pissed in thy pants—Shakespearian spoken.

“Lights,” said Asha.

“Check,” said Cotton. “Good to go.”

“Engine clear,” said Asha.

“Never better,” said Candy. “It’s Morphin time!”

I couldn’t help but smile. As old as they were they were still just kids deep down, something my friends we should all cherish and hold until the day we die.

Within seconds we were passed the clouds and swimming with the stars. If only their mothers could see what they had accomplished thus far. But being in embraced in the night sky made me feel they were already witnessing it for the galaxies cried nothing but shooting stars.

And there it was—the moon. It was just as they depicted in the discovery channel—glorious. It reminded us all of the sweet taste of ice cream—cookies and cream. Was this in fact just a scoop of the lords’ bowl of ice cream? Maybe it slipped from his spoon, I pondered. However, something about the moon was strangely different from the videos or from any fancy telescope. One being that our flag was not still there, the stars indeed spangled, yet, still, nothing waved. And two, most importantly, an odd glow pulsated from within.

Slowly the moon turned until finally, we saw its face. Its eyes were closed, but twas not asleep. A voice then orbited around us like the gum in our mouths, it was everlasting.

“Leave me be,” said the moon. “Or I will cast out thee.”

Did the moon read Shakespeare as well? I questioned.

“I said leave me be or I’ll cast out thee; leave me be or you will be sorry thou did not flee,” said the tempered moon.

Oh yes, he read a little Shakespear, no doubt about it. But who flipped his pages?

Within an instant meteorite launched at us like catapults, and to and fro, we attempted to move from harm’s way.

“You’re not alone,” yelled Cotton. “I am happy to see you in person beloved moon.”

All the cocoa pebbles had finally stopped raining down on us. And whatever Cotton had said, obviously, had gotten the moons attention.

“Y-your happy to see me,” said the moon.

“Cotton it’s working, keep talking,” whispered Asha.

“Of course, I am,” said Cotton. “You are the one who makes my nights peaceful, you are the one who brings light to darkness, you are our Poseidon for you control our oceans, you are our balance.”

The moon smiled, crater to crater, and it would not fade, not now or later. It made its way over to the shuttle as everyone within it formed a huddle.

“So, what’s the plan?” asked Cotton.

“How should I know,” whispered Candy. “You’re the one that buttered it up with your my beloved moon speech.”

Relax! I whispered.

The doors to the shuttle then opened and we all held on to each other like sour patch kids, for dear life. But within the huddle, I only counted three of us.

There he floated like the first man to ever walk the moon, my boy, my son. My heart rate sped up, and it bounced around my chest faster than Mexican jumping beans, which wasnt really fast at all, but you know what I mean.

He was now face to face with the moon. Asha! We all yelled, but the doors had already closed. We ran to the front and witnessed the whole thing—it was like a transformers movie. He had only been out there for a moment but it felt like eternity. The only good thing was that while he floated out in front, the moon still wielded the smile of a newborn.

Not long after the doors opened back and Asha flew in like Superman himself, so gracefully it was.

“W-what happened?” asked Candy.

“Yeah spit it out!” yelled Cotton.  “Jesus, we thought it would swallow you whole or something.

Asha’s face smiled as the moon did. He pointed to the front of the shuttle. Light began to shine brighter from within the moon, and along with it came a mouth open wider than a Humpback Whale.

“Hey what’s going on Asha?” questioned Candy.

“We’re going in,” smiled Asha.

“Hey now wait just a minute!” yelled Cotton. “I didn’t sign up to be Ms. Frizzle.”

“It has to be done. You will see,” said Asha.

And there we went inside of the moon. Little did we know, that there were worlds within worlds; it made us think about our own even. And inside there was the Sun, beautiful and radiant as ever, and surprisingly not hot.

On that night we found out more about the galaxies and our own world, that the universe we all thought we knew was changing. But be patient my friends, for this is another story to tell. It is an adventure after all, and it is adventure we will dwell.

 

Forgotten Twinkles

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June 17th, 2018 by Patrick Starks 

TWINKLED LIFE MAIN

For hours on end, we waited. It had only been in fairytales that we heard of the great Tinkerbelle, yet, there we stood. It was dark, but one would argue that it wasn’t, for her radiant glow was as bright as morning lights. Her wings sparkled like glitter, and it was no secret to any man, not to any at all, that the taste of whiskey could never have been more bitter. I must have been drunk, but I assure you that that wasn’t the case. And out of all the places in the world, who would have thought we would have found her here, in the graveyard.

Me and the little ones, Sailor and Oceana, had traveled far and wide to see such a fairy tale exist. And it was this final piece within the bucket their mother had never gotten the chance to pull out. However, I never believed in such, but what man would any know to turn away from the innocents of their children’s candy eyes—not I.

It hadn’t been long since their mother had passed, a year to be exact. For us, the misses had done her best to fight with every inch of her life—to stay with us was all she wished. She was everything—beautiful, strong, and perfect in every way. But sooner or later that strength would come to past. If any psychic were to tell me that I would never see my wife again, I would never have believed it. But I know she is in a better place now. Yet, still, I cannot help but miss her.

Flowers as orange as Fall rested against her stone. Two pairs of almond eyes twinkled up at me as the one that not stood but sat before us did.

“Momma,” said Oceana. “Mum Momma.”

The fairy of all tales gazed over towards our direction. And from the distance she appeared no larger than a bumble bee, yet, when she made her way over all of that would change.

She was life size. And her warmth became present as incandescent glow bounced off like a muffin upon our skin. Nothing but silence stood between. Without hesitation, Sailor had run over to the mysterious woman wrapping around her legs like the vines that coiled around the setting we became characters for. And not even seconds later, Oceana would do the same. Moonlight beamed down on all three like breaking sun, but much luminescent and gray.

“Momma, mum momma!” Yelled Sailor and Oceana.

But how. How could my once deceased wife be such? She had always been an angel, this I could never deny. But now she wielded the wings to prove it, yet, no halo hovered from above.

“Emery, my love?” said I.

A smile of heaven then opened and with it, a beauty of untold stories. The spotlight that once was, had now spread throughout the whole environment. Wings took flight, leaves blew and flew, and the children clung even tighter to the legs of which I had only dreamt in faint memory or ever knew.

“Hi, FIngo,” said the woman. “How are you love?”

Goosebumps formed upon my skin. And the woman’s soft hands would rub against it like a blind man does braille—it was if she could read my thoughts, more so my body language.

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” said the woman. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Wet lips then rubbed against my own. The smell of sweetness became apparent, yet, unfamiliar. The children still hung on, and she did not mind it for she was intertwined with thee—love and family were in the air.

From our past, Emery and I were stars, literally. And it was so that stars could not die, yet, it seemed taking on the life of a mortal was inevitable. The children knew not of what we used to be, and it was probably better that it stayed that way.

The children ran back to the car as what was told for them to do. and Emery and I would have our talk for I was not sold on the idea of who or what she was.

“What’s wrong love?” said the woman.

“Who are you?” said I. “You are not might wife, not in the slightest. And even though you are beautiful and bright, thy will not become one of the blindest.”

Silence stood between once again.

“Oh? And How so?” said the woman.

“You don’t smell like her?” said I. “You don’t even feel like her. And do not be fooled to think my memories to be a blur.”

“And how is a dead woman supposed to smell?” said the woman. “How is a dead woman supposed to feel? Hm… Well, then dig if you feel that way.”

The woman then pointed to the same stone we had not even hours before rested flowers next to. From her wings, she pulled a shovel, and from there I would begin.

Sweat and dirt mixed together, along with elbow grease if such existed, for I cannot recall a time when my elbow even sweated. Not long after, a thump of the shovel and I had found myself to the casket. Not many could say that they had dug up their wife from the ground but I sure as hell could, and don’t even bother asking me how it felt. That is another story to tell.

With hesitation and without, I opened it. It was empty. The car engine started. And the shine that once stood beside me was gone, the environment became dim. Wings rested not far from my feet, along with a jar of which appeared to be filled with sprinkles, glitter perceivably. I ran as hard as any man could when in desperate measures. But I was too late. The car was halfway down the road.

What the hell was going on? The casket of my wife was empty, and the woman that was once depicted as Tinkerbelle had vanished with my babies.

By the wings lied a letter:

Dear Fingo,

You might not remember who I am, but I remember you clear as unstained clothes. For years I have searched of your whereabouts, for a little birdie told me that you were still alive. If you are just now reading this then I assume you have met my assistant Pharra the terror. And it would be wise to do as she asks. for the safety of your family, of course. She will contact you within the next hour, but before then, a couple of things you should know. One, your wife is alive. Two, she and your children will be rejoined, when I feel the time. But three, you will be coming with me. You will be put on trial for the abandonment of your fellow soldiers, for that falling stars are supposed to die when clashing upon a planet, yet, it seems you did not, and quite frankly I find this hard to believe. To think you could just run off into the sunset baffles thee. And oh, happy fathers day, I will be seeing you soon brother.

Regards,

Starburst

 

Space Ashes

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May 28th, 2018 by Patrick Starks

SPACE ASHES MAIN

Every adult was once a child, and every child had dreams, this we can all agree, know. Some wanted to be fireman, some wanted to be doctors, some wanted to be pilots, and it was for some these fairy tales would come true. However, for me, I wanted to be, and don’t laugh, like my favorite superhero—Captain Planet. Now many of you might not know or remember who this person was but, I do. Besides, we have google for those who are still confused on where this is leading to.

Unfortunately, I lacked the super abilities/capabilities to do such. But one can still dream can’t we. I pondered days and nights on how I could make this so-called dream of mine come true. I was determined. No matter how far it seemed out of reach, or impossible, I still remained committed to the task.

But being an astronaut was the closest I could think of to becoming Captain planet— maybe even just a pilot now that I think of it. But I’ve never really been one to do what others do. In this life, we already have enough pilots. I wanted something of my own. As I’m sure the rest of you feel the same.

Not long after. No, it was in fact long after I would be no longer a child but a man, and minus the muscles sadly. And with that life, I was blessed with children of my own. What more could a man ask for—three gorgeous little girls—Coco, Cosette, and Cecily—triplets.

They are the most precious little girls any human being could ever bare their eyes upon. It made me nervous though, for all I could think of was when they came to age how many boys would try and sweep them off their feet. But I knew boys, I was once one myself, and at that age, I knew exactly what they wanted. But nuh ugh, not going to happen as that is another story to tell. I was lucky, however. They took after their mother.

But if your reading this than I am no longer alive. But thanks to my daughters, the dream I sought for so long has somewhat become a reality. I just wish I could share this moment with them.

Coco, who in fact loved cocoa was a tough one to break, she had quite the temper, but as most mothers do, the misses would put an end to it one way or another. Still, to this day, those two still bump heads like rams, but its all out of love I guess, right? By the time Coco had hit middle school, her attitude would dim, and all that was great about her would shine. She was honored throughout her whole class as she the student, had now become the teacher. I still mourn for the teacher that lost his or her job, but greatness was greatness, there was no hiding that.

Cosette, oh, my little Cosette player. Now, this is where things get interesting. As many of them did, Cosette had taken after her mothers’ brilliant mind, becoming the best mathematician of the country and later internationally. It came as a surprise to me and the misses out of the three girls, Cosette would be the one to take on such a gift—in her early ages, Cosette always struggled with such.

Miraculously, Cosette had blossomed right into brilliancy; something the misses and I always thought Coco would inherit, which she did overtime. However, she still was not as good as Cosette, not in the slightest.

And it wouldn’t be long before our Cecily would come to the rankings.

Cecily was what most would call the muscle of the group. Completely opposite of her sisters, yet one would be a fool to believe that her mind was not bright as well. Unlike her sisters, she had not outdone or embarrassed any of her professors. Cecily was definitely the merciful kind as I knew that she held back a lot. I had a talk with her, as Captain Planet would, I thought. And then it would be her that would become the newly blossomed flower of the family.

Out of all her track team, including her coach, including the men even, would dominate track and field. She became a hero to woman all over, and her sisters as well. But due to a late injury, she would have to give up such glory as she could not bounce back from what was. Through her time of misery, she developed a passion for building, and it was so that she did. She built incredible things, things that not even Bill Gates himself could think of—Cecily was a freak of… No. Cecily was an angel.

I had just turned seventy-four years old. It was my birthday. Yet, to make a long story, I had become very sick. It felt something like kryptonite being shoved into my stomach, although, I was no Superman, nor did I want to be.

Four beautiful women surrounded me. Four angels, my greatest treasures.

Tears flowed like oceans and rivers to no end. Not being able to bear the pain in her heart, my love had left the room. We had been through a lot together but this I found was her breaking point. We will see each other again, this I promise love.

And next to me, to my left to be exact, stood my three little astronauts. They weren’t little anymore, this I know, but cant a parent still dream a dream that was once a reality.

Time was running out for me. I could feel this. I asked my angels one promise before I went on to another life. One that I knew that their mother would not allow. But what momma don’t know, won’t hurt her right?

To be cremated, to have my ashes spread into space was my final and only wish. Well, plus for them to take care of their mother, but this is obvious.

And they later became to be one of the first woman astronauts as I knew they would become.

And can you guess where I am now? Well then take a telescope and see the promise that I and my family have vowed.

Twinkled Stars

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May 13th, 2018 by Patrick Starks 

TWINKLED STAR MAIN 2

Emery was once one of the most beautiful stars of the night sky. She twinkle twinkled, yet she was not a little star, not in the slightest. She was much larger than all the rest, and for that, she was not hard to spot out. And she was only one hundred years old you see, which was much younger than the other the stars that soared around her and over the seven seas. And for these reasons, these so-called others would hate poor Emery more than anything. Indeed, she was, in fact, a star; however, others would argue that she hogged the spotlight a little too often if you catch thy drift.

And for many years of the light, Emery would twinkle twinkle on her own, as many did not want to do so with her, at least not on their own. It wouldn’t be long before sadness would dim the very light she held so dear. She couldn’t have felt anymore alone than what she was now. Only until there was Fingo, did the ropes of sadness unbind from her. Yet, Fingo wasn’t a star at all my friends, not anymore—this is where the harmony of our story begins.

Before his transformation into humanly figure, Fingo was known as Shujaa Nyota—meaning Warrior star. And like most whispered stories of the night, there is still not much said about these, audacious warriors. But, but over time others would create their own stories as many of us have seen throughout our ages. But do not be fooled for that this is no myth—this, you will one day realize in the day of your passing.

There was only one story in particular. A story that would not only be told to the baby stars in the skies but to the babies of the grounded. Heavens Cannons it was called. And the synopsis is that the warrior stars were designed to be weapons of the heavens—all of which was to fight the devil himself. Although, the Devil had stars of his own you see, stars of which we today call volcanoes. But, I am sorry to inform that this story will have to be for another time my friends, for that I fear even the most remote whisper could be the end of me.

Little did any human know, stars packed quite the punch if shot at the right speed—some say enough to destroy entire planets. Yet, it would seem that Fingo was just a dud. Not dying with your brothers was the worst fate for a warrior—it was not honorable. And it was this that gave Fingo no urge to come back to the night skies.  He like Emery would be burdened with a life of loneliness. But the two did not know that soon this burden would be voided.

It has been years now since Fingo was shot through the breeze of what we take in every day. He had blended in well. He now had hands and feet along with a scent of sweet.  And wielded hair so sparkly that made all the girls around stare, as their men all lied in defeat. It did not take long for Fingo to realize that humans sometimes fear what they do not understand. But let’s be honest with ourselves, these behaviors are usually jealously and envy at its finest.

As much as Fingo felt it be a curse, he was unique in his own way—he did not conform to what others felt he should be or felt that he was. He was no freeloader, no murder, no psychopath or pervert for that matter, so he had to be somewhat alright in the books, and it was this he ran over in his mind religiously.

It is still murmured throughout the stars that signs of Fingo can still be seen if one looks hard enough. However, most were only joking with this analogy. But Emery, no, Emery did not joke. She did not know FIngo, neither had she met him. But with the radiant glow from down below, she knew that at least one of them was the real deal. There became an immediate connection, as well as reflection between the two if you still follow me. But let me stop this foolishness of mine and get on with the crescendo shall we.

“Momma,” said Emery. “Could you please tell me the story of the shooting stars again,”

Unlike all the other stars, Emery’s momma was no star at all. And no she was no Warrior star, however, there were such that existed. Emery’s mother was nothing like Fingo, but much bigger—Emery’s momma was the moon. And yes, this was another reason for others to hate her, another reason why she was the brightest of them all, yet she had vowed to never let even a cloud hear her whisper it. And she thanked the heavens that they had never done.

“My sweet Emery don’t you think you’re a little too old for those kinds of stories now,” said Momma moon. “I’ve told you that story a thousand times. Including the thousand times when you were just a freckle in the sky. It’s just a fairy tale, my dear.”

Emery puffed. “Yes. But, momma how could you have told me that story a thousand times if I am only one hundred years old? It’s not even possible. And it’s not a fairy tale.”

They say sometimes the moon smiles on the brightest of nights. Emery was a smart little star-child and Mother moon was proud of that. Everything Mother moon had said went one ear out of the other, which in star form was Emery’s second and third point—stars usually have five points so I would hope many followed this; nevertheless, I have explained it now.

And it would be decades since Emery had seen her father. She thought about what he would say or what he would do for that he was known to be the adventurous kind. But as much as she wanted an answer, to see him, she knew that it could never happen.  Emery’s mother and father only saw each other on the day of which we humans call the eclipse. Can you guess who her father is now? And as much as she hates it when her mother talks about it, this was the day she was conceived.

Emery had always wanted to see her father as most little girls do. However, there were rules. And with those rules there would be grave consequences if crossed. Stars could not come out during the day. Yet, Emery had still crossed them as rebellion was a thing for any child who did not get there way, especially girls. Sorry ladies, but you know it’s true.

Fingo, she’d whisper in her shiny and mighty center. Fingo would gaze up towards the skies, gazing at a particular star that shined brighter than the others, almost the moon in fact.

Overtime all the other stars would fade as they had gone restless of not being seen. Emery and her mother still shined bright as always. However, her mother had dozed off as she was known to do on occasion. It was evident that even the moon needed some sleep every now and then—one would be a fool to believe she slept during the day—oh, my friends, this as well would be another story to tell.

Now let us take it to the falsetto. One, two, three.

Emery had made a voluntary fall, plummeting straight into the Pacific. Because of this, she caused an aftershock that would cause Tsunamis all around the world, but thankfully they were not large enough to cause any tragedies, she hoped.

Stories of mermaids then would be birthed onto planet Earth. Little did anyone of you know that this was somewhat true for that there were signs of a woman in the ocean. But this was no mermaid, nor fish, this was in fact, Emery. And over the years of her disappearance, Fingo would grow into a fine young man, becoming one of the worlds greatest sailors. Some say that he has saved more than a dozens men’s life on the many travels he’s gone. He would eventually take on the nickname of Poseidon. But do not worry, where not going into mythologies. FIngo was no god unless you believe stars to be such.

To make a long story short, as you were all expecting such to be. Driven by un-fainted and un-honorable pain in his heart. Fingo promised that he would find the mermaid many have talked about for centuries before his coming to pass, as it seemed he was now a full human. Emery, on the other hand, waited, for that she still felt close to what she sought for so long. She was now a young woman. She as well wielded hands and feet, along with a scent not so sweet—she smelt of the sea—fishy but managed well.

The two would eventually meet, and this is where our story hits the peek.

Instantly the two became lovers. They lived a life together that was what most in this life still dream of, as well as I. They had two beautiful twins, boy, and girl, of whom they named Sailor and Oceana. For two people that used to be so alone in the world, it is truly magical how misery can easily become beauty. Patients is key my friends—this we must treasure.

The stars in the sky rejoiced for that they now were being seen. The moon sobbed, but eventually, Emery had brought comfort to her that she was ok. Mother moon became a proud grandmother, and Father sun, well let’s just say him and Fingo still had their words. One should know not to take another’s daughter without permission.

But let this beauty linger in your minds for that you and me are all one of a kind, you are not alone my friends. And if it is such you believe, then do no whisper to me.

Go to the ocean. And whisper to Emery and FIngo, the two twinkled stars of the sea.