The Chronicles of Zeric Pt 2

Posted in Sci-Fi, Science, Short Stories, TBC on January 12, 2012 by drevolutionary1

September 14th, 2242

He was bald, beige colored and had shiny silken dark eyebrows, long eyelashes, and piercing dark brown eyes. Back on earth, his friends joked that he was a “pretty boy.” He was a world-class athlete having played Lacrosse, Rugby, and Jai alai in University, so he had an intense physique. Despite what outward confidence his physical appearance belied—the twenty-three year-old Quantaz Zeric had a few doubts about embarking on his journey to become a doctor. His father always wanted him to continue pursuing sports and compete in the Olympics, and his mother wanted him to become an artist—for Zeric was gifted with a creative mind. As Earth nationalists, both his parents definitely wanted him to remain on Earth. They believed in isolationism and thought that humans had no business meddling in the affairs of the other cultures of the galaxy.  However, Quantaz had other plans. After a summer of volunteering with one of the most renowned Medical Exobiologists treating alien visitors on earth, he was inspired to explore space and become a doctor himself. His parents wanted him close to home on Earth, but his ambitions drove him apply to for the Brenoran Academy for Exomedicine and get on the first solar transport away from Earth.

It was a long journey from Earth on a solar transport travelling at sub-light speeds, but he couldn’t afford any of the transports that could travel as light speeds, and his family certainly wasn’t going to help him in this endeavor. This was his first time in space, so in addition to his racing thoughts, he had been fighting space sickness. As he looked out the window into the empty vastness, the space station grew closer and closer as his heart beat faster and faster.

Just then, the conductor made an announcement. “All passengers, welcome to Brenora space station. This is the final stop on Solarix Travels. Please make sure to take all your belongings with you upon exiting the shuttle.”

Quantaz frantically scrambled for his baggage and then stepped off the solar transport. When the docking clamps locked and the pressurization cycle was complete, he raced off feeling extremely nauseous.

“Pull it together Q!” he thought. “You’ve avoided the space sickness the whole flight!” But it was too late. With a sound so ugly that it could only could be compared with the wail of Retroublian lymph worm, Zeric lost his lunch right at the entrance to the space station.

“Nice!” he heard a voice call out from somewhere in his periphery. “I think you have more variety of colors in your vomit than any other student I’ve seen with space sickness!”

Zeric looked up and noticed a strange purple man with short close cropped hair like cotton and a spotted face sporting a smirk of self-satisfaction.

“Galdren Sirinus of Brenora ” He held out his hand in a gesture to help up Quantaz. Quantaz accepted and the two of them shook hands.

“That’s kind of strange isn’t it? You waiting right here by the airlock? Have you been here all day watching people get off the transports?”

Galdren smiled. “Well, I’m just sizing up my competition. So far I haven’t met anyone that’s a challenge to my valedictory pursuits.”

“Valedictorian? Classes haven’t even started yet! Besides, the valedictorian is right in front of you!”

Galdren briefly scanned his surroundings in bewilderment. Both the men stared at each other for a few seconds until they burst out into laughter.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

“My name’s Quantaz Zeric. Sometimes people call me ‘Q,’ but you can call me whatever you’d like.”

Galdren put his arm around Quantaz’s shoulder. “Well Mr. Zeric, let’s go find out our housing assignments!”

Zeric’s first year at the Brenoran Academy for Exomedicine (BAFEX) proved very challenging. More challenging than he ever thought. However, he was committed to not giving up. He never gave up on anything he set his mind to. This was no different. His friendly rivalry with Gladren helped him develop a true friendship he reckoned could withstand the test of time. Zeric hid the fact that his medical endeavors ensured exile from his family back on Earth, and all of his other friends were scattered through his home system. But as he and Gladren grew closer, they shared secrets. On holidays and special occasions, Zeric spent time with Galdren and got to meet his family back on his home planet, Brenora Prime. The Brennites were an extremely friendly species and good relations with humans. Galdren’s family was more than willing to take in Zeric, and even game him a Brennite nickname, “Zerooni.” This was what Galdren always wanted—to learn about alien cultures and expand his horizons. Little did he know what his academic pursuits would hold in store for him.

Disassociation

Posted in Dark, despair, Poetry, Sex, vice on January 7, 2012 by drevolutionary1

Disassociation
from what I am
and my life
for just a moment

Sweet forgetting
experiencing the now
screw consequences
to the sticking place
and suck my dick

Strip me of constraint
and my attire
Strip me of restraint
till naked in desire

Strut in lust
sultry and robust
unleash your fury
upon my body

ride my ass
till I can’t remember
those vows I made
those things I promised

lay down my arms
penetrate my defenses
and give me the bliss
your manhood dispenses

violate my body
validate my avarice for abuse
as I disconnect
as I endure the misuse

I mean something
but I don’t seem to care
it’s what’s convenient
and it’s what’s here

I become your cumrag
that you throw to the side
and then you are gone
and I’m empty inside

When I’m done being used
when my rocks go off
my high turns to low
and I question myself

Reassociation
with who I am
and my life
for just an eternity

until…

Queer black Folk

Posted in African-American, blackness, LGBT, Musings, Poetry, Politics, Race, Sexuality with tags , , , , on September 20, 2011 by drevolutionary1

Queer like honey in my coffee
Like the difference in my love
My lovestyle, not my lifestyle
Get with it man and fight the power

Queer like stories I tell
Regaling you by
Spilling hot tea
And rekindling old flames

Queer like me
Because I’m proud to be different
From my straight brothas and sistas
Because I am someone unique

Queer like the CriticismHate
That I get from family and friends
Who have the same level of melanin
And know the sting of oppression

Queer like Queer
Because the mantras of self-identification seem so many
And agreement on any so few
But that’s ok

Queer like the ancestors
Who give me strength, daily
Who give me encouragement
Who give me hope

Queer like Queer
Like Queer Like
Queer like Queer
Like Queer Like…..

Protected: Chronic

Posted in Love, Personal Life, Poetry on September 8, 2011 by drevolutionary1

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The Tale Of The Two Metalsmiths

Posted in Love, Poetry, Sex on September 7, 2011 by drevolutionary1

Submit your all to me
Let us become one
Thoughts and desires fused
An entity all knowing, all feeling

A mass of flesh and blood and loin
Emanating heat, light, and passion
We are our own metalsmiths
Our bodies forming alloy

I flow into your crucible
and you flood mine
molten metal lingers
While souls intertwine

Sounds like “CLANK! CLANK!”
As we bang against the anvil
Each strike intensifying
Loud and electrifying

Together forming various shapes
and malleable deformations
Cooling into our final conformation
Witness–a masterpiece of dual creation

Quantum Entanglement (QE)

Posted in Love, Poetry, Science with tags , , , , on August 29, 2011 by drevolutionary1

Hearts linked through quantum entanglement
Undoubtly stranged to estrangement
Thoughts shared on a special wavelength
And motions mimicked like in a phalanx
Faster than fiberoptics
More cryptic to others than coptic
Crisper than HDTV
The instant data-link between him and me…

Eye of the Bee-holder

Posted in TBC with tags , , , , on July 21, 2011 by drevolutionary1

It is eye, the bee-holder
Eye tend the hive
Where the swarm thrives

All with a compound eye
Fracturing reality
Integrating in actuality

Every bee, a different P.O.V
But they work collectively
Each unique in what they see

Only the all-knowing eye
Knows all
No bee, nor eye the bee-holder

“No, I’m not OK”

Posted in darkness, despair, Poetry, vice with tags , , , , , on June 11, 2011 by drevolutionary1

Vodka to wash away the sorrows
Good dick to cure the loneliness
Greasy vittles provide a high
Eyes bloodshot and full of pain

48 waking hours with no rest
The vices are strong
And sooth the wretch
But only for a moment

Thought about writing that note
But not tonight, naw not tonight
Hopefully not ever
Please slap me if I do…

But I can’t look in the mirror
I’m afraid of what I’ll see
That denial feeds my addictions
And prevents alacrity

Trapped I am
And trapped I will be
Like the mouse in the maze
Am I smart enough to break free?

Shit… Shit!
My life’s always been so…
Contained
And decent… planned…

It’s tempting to fuck it up
To sabotage a good thing
Watch the wreckage
Like something you saw on I-95

I want to submit to the darkness
For a change…
No rage against the dying of the light
On the contrary

A sense of decency reels me in
Now and again
But somehow I always wind up
Back here in this place

This place I don’t want to be
But am
And I try to deal
And smile and say, “I’m OK”

But inside
I’m really NOT fucking OK
I’ve swallowed gasoline
And someone’s threw a match my way

A man of stature

Posted in TBC on June 8, 2011 by drevolutionary1

A man of stature
With broad shoulders
Full-figured in all the right places
He towers over me

Beautiful luscious lips
And soft hazel eyes
A beard wooly and thick
Just like his thighs

A warm smile
That meets mine in embrace
As our tongues war
In a sea of brown

He melts himself down
And pours himself into me
As I vulcanize
A durable ebonite forms

What keeps me?
It’s waking in the morning
Knowing my gentle giant is still there
To shield my soul

My gentle giant can protect me
And sing away my fears
Dry my tears
Make me forget the pain

He knows my need and desires
Before I can verbalize them
Our hearts
Linked by echolocation

One day he’ll come
And I’ll be ready
But for now all I can do
Is dream of a man of stature

Gone…

Posted in TBC on May 9, 2011 by drevolutionary1

Why is it so hard to say “I love you?”
The words, even when you were alive, roll off the tongue
but feel trite, empty, and fake

You’re dead
No longer here with us
and my tears are not nearly as much as they should be

But you inflicted wounds on my soul
that are still open and I can’t seem to close
no amount of salve can heal

why you carried around such hate and venom I’ll never know
why you couldn’t lay bare all your hopes and fears
why we couldn’t be closer…

Of course, I have no grudge with the deceased
I’m just left angry sometimes
pondering why certain situations are the way they are

For the longest I’ve had writers block
because I was thinking of the nice thing to say
the appropriate thing to say

but I am not holding back
I have to get it off my chest
else these feeling will stir inside and eat away at my soul

I suppose the time spent away during those formative years
is one of the reasons for how I feel
you never got the help you needed so I never got you

I did have 3 other mothers to cover you
I think they have their issues, but they did a good job
but…

I know your life was hard
maybe harder than I’ll ever imagine
but you made so much progress and positive strides

I admire your strength I will say
I hope to match it some day
your strongest quality, yet a double-edged sword

For now I’ll just continue thinking of you everyday
trying to eliminate the images of you on your deathbed
Gasping for air, trying to stay alive while we were there

How did you do it? How did you hold on so long?
I’m fighting back my tears seeing you suffer
I hope I can this dam and let them flow and wash away the pain

there are so many things left unsaid
so many questions unasked
so many opportunities missed

I want to say “I love you” and mean it
but you left this emotional wall that I can’t break down
For only you have the tools for that, and you’re…

gone…

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