Whine of the Century : Part 8 (Chapter 1 of Roll : a Sci-Fi Poetic Novelette)

Truce took a deep breath
And strut down the hall.
His allure was still on—low.
But he could feel Drako’s

Truce ran his hand through his curly hair
As he surrounded himself with the
Armed men. He had their attention locked.
They all pointed their blasters at him.
He waved the drive in front of Drako
And when Drako reached for it he kissed
His hand—swift—he quickly kissed the man
On his left then the man to his right
So on, slithering around like a
Serpent. All six men were spell bound by
The blue glowing lip marks on their flesh.
“Anyone wanna show me the best
Exit in this place,” Truce teased, biting his
Bottom lip and twirling a curl in
His index finger. The spellbound men
Turned their guns toward Cutie and his
Handsome wheelchair flying friend.
The two men gasped as the blasters went
To town shooting the wall behind them.
The duo stood shaking as the wall
Behind them opened up to the street.
Eight stories up. Truce grinned as the blasts
Ceased. “Don’t just stand there boys; lets get ghost.”
He snatched the drive from Drako and gave
Him one last kiss, leaving a pink print
Of his lips. “Forget me,” he whispered.
The hardest lips spell—memory work.

Truce ran past the cute duo and stopped at the hole.
“That thing strong enough to hold us all?”
Kalif smiled. “No problem.
Wrap this around your waist.” He handed
Each of them a harness belt. “Don’t let me get squashed.”

The man smiled and said, “Trust me. I won’t.”
Cutie glared and snorted

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Whine of the Century : Part 7 (Chapter 1 of Roll : a Sci-Fi Poetic Novelette)

Santi tumbled on
Top of the dancer,
Shielding him from the metal
Death balls. Lasers sucked but
They hardly killed.

Santi grinned as he watched Kalif miss
Every shot, happy Tolan didn’t pair
Him with another soulless killer.
        Drako and his crew ducked behind
        Furniture and walls. Santi watched as
        Kalif smashed a button on his chair
                And the wheels folded around his legs.
                He floated five feet in the air and
                Glared down at Santi. He helped them
        Back onto their feet and they rushed out
        Of the suite. “Did you retrieve the drive?”
        Santi’s eyes gleamed as he watched Kalif
Fly around the corner. He knew he
Was telling the truth when he said his
Chair was faster than any pair of
        Legs. Santi grinned and flashed the drive in
        His hand. The dancer tried to swipe it.
        Santi swiftly dodged the dancer’s hand.
	        “That’s mine,” he growled. Santi chortled out
	        As the trio reached a dead end wall.
	        “The drive you stole from an arms dealer?”
        “Its what you were there for too,” he smacked.
        The trio turned around to Drako
        And five of his laser toting men.
“You three made a major mistake here.
No one steals from me and lives after.”
The dancer bumped into Santi—check.

“I have a plan,” he whispered, “But you gotta take
        Me with you off this rock. I know y’all
                Got a ship.” Kalif smirked.
         The dancer raised his hands and walked to
Drako. “I have the drive right here. You can have it.”

                Drako lowered his blaster, grinning.
        “Coming to your senses;

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Whine of the Century : Part 6 (Chapter 1 of Roll : a Sci-Fi Poetic Novelette)

Kalif new that shaft
Wouldn’t get the job done
Without causing a firework
Show. He huffed and rolled
Toward the blasts.

Kalif stopped at the end of the hall
And watched as five men shifted into
The royal suite. Once he saved that shaft’s
        Ass and transported the drive safely,
        He’d run over that fucker’s foot or
        At least give a good knuckle kiss.
		Once all five men entered the suite, he
                Rolled down the hall and paused outside the
                Blasted up suite. The fireworks ended.
        Kalif listened. “You fat bitch thought you
        Could get one over on me, Drako,
        The Umbra Dragon, your head must be
Screwed on upside down.” Kalif despised
Team missions, working alone kept his
Ass from getting shot at. He should have
        Bailed on that bullshit and took that thick
        Dancer with the collar home with him.
        “We’re gonna kill both of you, of course.
                But first you’re gonna spill who sent you.”
	        “Who he got tangled up in this shit?”
	        Kalif thought. No failed deliveries
        Every package transported safely.
	He wasn’t gonna let Santi change that.
	He dug under his wheelchair and squeezed
His Granddaddy’s Mac 10, an extinct
Machine firearm, banned a thousand
Years before faster than light space flight.

His Granddaddy found it on some old ass planet
        In the Milkyway. When most people
                Saw it, they laughed, then they
        Screamed as it did its hawt damn job.
He took a deep breath and rolled into the trashed suite.

                “Say hello to my little friend.” Bang!
        Metal bullets floated
Through the air.

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Whine of the Century : Part 5 (Chapter 1 of Roll : a Sci-Fi Poetic Novelette)

Truce tumbled behind
The couch wishing the
Cutie with the lazy eye
Lots of luck as he crawled
The drive in hand.

He knows their guest saw it in his hand.
He prayed Drako and his crew didn’t though.
Having the power to control a
        Persons mood sounded cool till you learned
        It only worked through a kiss on flesh. 
        Truce had an allure, but it was no
                Way near as powerful as his lips.
                The lip spell he placed on Drako would
                Keep him angry and violent for hours,
        Maybe days. Three more men barged inside.
        Cutie managed to hold off four armed
        And angry blaster-crazed shooters but
The new additions had him pressed in
The corner. Truce almost felt bad as
He crawled under the laser dart shots.
	Whoever invented weapons that
	Blast darts made of burning light through flesh
	Deserved three laser darts up the ass.
		“Drako!” Cutie shouted, “You gonna
                Let your playmate steal from you and get
                Away with it? Check your neck.” Truce glared.
        “I got enough laser power for
        Both of you bitches. Don’t let that fat
        Hoe leave this suite.” Two guards turned their shots
Onto Truce. He rolled under the bed.
Lasers rained down and as soon as one
Of the men got close, Truce kissed his heel.

The man turned his blaster onto his partner and
        Sent him flying across the room—hard.
		He thanked the comet sprites
        For his blessed lips and grabbed the blaster
The man dropped. He jolted from under the bed—swift.

                He shot one of the men attacking
        Mr. Cutie then turned
To five more.

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Whine of the Century : Part 4 (Chapter 1 of Roll : a Sci-Fi Poetic Novelette)

Santi sang a hymn
To the most high of
Celestial body sprites.
They were not doing it.
Still had a chance.

“We don’t need anything,” the dancer
Hummed, rubbing Drako’s nasty pale face.
“Right baby,” Drako yawned, “Leave us be.”
        Santi pushed his sheet covered cart and 
        Closed the door behind him. “Compliments
        Of the house.” The dancer glared and grinned.
                “Leave it in the corner and go, please.”
                Santi bit his lip, seeing his new
                Fascination’s feathers ruffled made
         Him ready to start some trouble—quick.
        “We offer more than food and drink, here.
        Perhaps I can interest you in
One of our more succulent delights.”
Santi rubbed his hand down his navel
And winked. The dancer threw his hands up
        And over his mouth, letting his laugh
	Flood the room. “What’s that supposed to be,
        A seduction?” Santi shrugged and let
                Out an awkward chuckle. “Works, most times.”
                The dancer smirked and said, “On who? Cats?”
                 Santi glared and pulled out his blaster.
        “Let’s try it another way, shall we.”
        The dancer raised his hands and bent down.
        “Sounds like a plan.” He kissed Drako’s cheek.
A red tattoo of his lips glowed on
Drako’s cheek and the dancer jumped as
Drako whipped out two big blasters.

Santi kicked his cart over and dove behind it
        As Drako set off rounds of laser
                Darts around the large suite. 
        “Yep, I misjudged the situation.
Won’t happen again.” The doors busted open—rough.

                Three armed men barged in. Santi blasted
        The left legs of two as
The third dodged. 

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Whine of the Century : Part 3 (Chapter 1 of Roll : a Sci-Fi Poetic Novelette)

“Bad bitch, head to toe.
Savage; these hoes know,”
Truce daydreamed as he whined and
Rolled his body
For ruthless bills.

Drako grinned and slapped Truce’s ass—quick smack.
“Fat boys do it better,” he cackled.
Truce battled the urge to vomit, his 
        Mind focusing on his endmost goal.
        The more money he made the closer
        He’d get to escaping that planet
                And that shithole fucking galaxy.
                He rocked his hips down, low. A move he
                Learned from Kyra; she had diamond knees
        That carried her through every routine. 
        Loose lips, but loyal. Truce had his own 
        Talents. He was a Rogardi, from 
The Tovarius solar system,
A cluster of man made planets, built
On asteroids and space debris—worn.
        Most Rogardi were rumored to be
        Science experiments gone wrong with
        Wild mutations and powers—superb.
                Truce flinched as Drako’s palm smacked his ass,
                Again. “Keep shaking that fat ass, bitch!”
                Truce twisted his hips, knelt down, and pressed
        His full lips against Drako’s rough cheek,
        Leaving a translucent blue tattoo
        Of his lips. “Play nice papi; find bliss.”
Drako sank down and grinned—mellow lips.
A little gift from home, he thought—rare.
Truce smiled and began searching the room.

He riffled through drawers, tossed around pillows and sheets.
        Nothing. No sign of the info he
                Desperately craved. Zilch.
        He bent down and gave Drako one more
Translucent kiss, noticing the drive on his neck.

                A knock at the door made Truce jump back.
        “Room service.” The door clicked.
One eye turned.

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Whine of the Century : Part 2 (Chapter 1 of Roll : a Sci-Fi Poetic Novelette)

His jaw dropped something
Fierce. Santi hand had
T catch it, less it fall right off.
The man dancing above
Him, mesmerized.

His skin was light with gold undertones,
He teased the blue collar on his neck,
Hips whining as the band made sweet love.
        The dancer’s love handles rolled as he
        Moved to the music. Every eye stayed
        Entranced—focused. Santi pressed pause
                On that night’s score as he admired the
                Show. Rudy outdid himself when she found the
                Beauty on the stage; missed not one beat.
        The music slowed and the spell wafted.
        Everyone clapped; Santi scoped Kalif
        Booming in wonder. He licked his lips,
Conquering the urge to chase the man.
His right eye rolled as his left eye scoped
The VIP booth. His mark huddled up
        With five guards. Drako’s short bulky build
        And twisted face had him looking like
        A hungry cougar, ready to pounce
                On any piece of ass that breezed by.
                Santi preferred scamming sleazebag marks.
                It made being trapped under Tolan’s
        Mad thumb a tiny bit bearable.
        Santi grabbed the biggest bottle of
        Soul Shout liquor and strut to his mark.
One last job and he’d get his ship, then
He’d leave Luceren in his stardust.
“Compliments of management,” he grinned.

“That’s how you show respect,” Drako howled, snatching the
        Bottle from Santi, tearing the cap.
                He took a chug then belched.
        “Get me that chubby dancer.” He grinned.
One of his guards signaled at Rudy. Santi flinched.

                The dancer walked from behind the stage.
        “How can I service you?”
Santi cringed.

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Whine of the Century : Part 1 (Chapter 1 of Roll : a Sci-Fi Poetic Novelette)

He tapped the left wheel
Of his chair, scoping.
The VIP booth carried.
Drako’s smug, amused face
Made Kalif laugh.

“It’s not nice to stare.” An off-yellow
Grin slid in front of Kalif’s clear view.
Kalif popped the gum in his mouth and
        Shot lasers from his eyes—he wished.
        That was on his list, though. After he
        Vamped up his hover chair, he’d work on
                Designing laser glasses for sure.
                “This your cover?” the man with yellow
                Teeth, brown skin, and a turned eye remarked,
        Kicking Kalif’s wheelchair. Kalif smirked
        And turned his arm rest into the man’s
        Groin. “Hey, watch the jewels,” he groaned and sat,
“My bad, when I read your text to
Look for a guy in a wheelchair, I
Didn’t know you’d be paraplegic.”
        “I can stand, and walk some,” Kalif spat.
        “The chair helps on missions, it’s faster
         Than any pair of legs and I have
                It rigged with plenty of gadgets to
                Get me out of danger.” The man laughed.
                “I’m all for disabled people in
         The Havien Galactic army.”
         He rolled his eyes. “I’m not a soldier.”
         Kalif glared. “Let’s start over. My name’s
Santi, and I’m your master lifter.”
He stretched his hand and Kalif shook it.
“Kalif, I’m the transporter,” he sneered.

“There’s a bottle on hold at the bar laced with tranq.
        Get it to Drako and his crew and
                 When he goes to his room
        Break in, get the drive from around his
Neck and we’ll be off this planet,” Kalif whispered.

                “Easy.” Santi grinned and walked away.
         Kalif glared as the stage
Came to life.

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Summertime Poetic Fiction

This summer while I’m taking a break from my weird fiction novelette, Die a Little Bit, I will be writing and posting two shorter novelettes. One of the novelettes is a Sci-Fi space action novelette and the other is a Supernatural novelette. I plan on changing my posting schedule slightly for the summer. I will post every Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. I hope you enjoy!

The first novelette I will release beginning tonight is Roll: a Sci-Fi space action story about three strangers who get caught up in a plot to save the galaxy after meeting in a gay night club.

The novelette form has been encouraging me to write and release my stories. Its not as heavy as a novel and still long enough to allow me to tell the story my characters want to share. I recommend all writers to try writing a novelette at least as a side story for their larger novels/series.

Summer Break for Die A Little Bit (a weird fiction novelette)

Wow, I can’t believe I’ve written and posted 15 chapters of my novelette. It has been a lot of fun! Its written in a specific poetic form that I created and its really allowed me to get my thoughts out and to allow my characters to flow through the story. Its different than what I’ve written in the past and I like how unpredictable its forcing me to be. I hope you all are enjoying as well.

I’m going to be taking a summer break from Die A Little Bit and will be releasing two short novelettes during the summer so please be on the look out next week for the first chapter. My two new novelettes won’t be as long as Die A Little Bit but they are both written in similar original poetry forms with no rhyming since I’m trying to break out of the classic expectation of rhyme and iambic pentameter. My creativity has had so much space to breathe and develop.

Thank you for reading and joining me in journey as a poet and fiction writer.

I can’t leave y’all without another poetry form to try out. The Sedoka is an unrhymed Japanese poetry form made up of two stanzas of three lines each, with syllable counts of 5-7-7.

She pulled the trigger
No sense in pointing a gun
If you wasn't planning on shooting.

Mabel warned Larry
Don't point guns in her face if
He didn't want to get shot up.

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