Wednesday, December 31, 2014

A Teacher's Poetic Ramblings




A Teacher's Poetic Ramblings
By Nomar Knight
 
Reflect on the journey
Emotions rattled by worry
Taken down by death
Crushed with loss
 
Worst new beginning EVER
I thought
But my people
Ignited by wonder
 
Fighting for my attention
Showing signs of promise
I'm teaching
Not really
 
Discover new talent
Angels sing
Genius their thing
Amazed they share
 
Yep sharing knowledge
Spreading happiness
Lashing out discipline
Teaching self-discipline
 
No not I
My students that's who
Taking flight with new wings
Soaring to new heights
 
So many changes coming
For all of us
Let fear not enter
Quench thirst for knowledge
 
Say goodbye to the old year
Bring in the new
Not teaching anymore
Promote learning instead
 
Looking forward to watching
These young eagles soar
Do things they couldn't before
Blessed man I am
 
 
 
©2014 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Nomar Knight Poem.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

The Dark Road by J. M. Almodovar




Meet J. M. Amodovar, she's a special teen with lots of talent. She is a kind soul and an outstanding student with a heavenly voice. This young lady will go far and I'm grateful for having met her. Please enjoy her poetry.


The Dark Road
by J. M. Almodovar

Light enters my window
I drown in its sunlight again
My heart aches from all the pain
Why can't we all be the same?

The dark road to oblivion is just a step away
I can jump that cliff
Lose myself again
Give everything away

I've seen it all before
The way I waste my life
I dive into obscurity
Waiting to crash and burn
 
Someone save my life!

Scorch my ashes
Set me free...

In the darkness of the tunnel
I can see a light
Once again, I ignore the warning in my heart
It's screaming,
"Let me fly!"

The world is a sick place
It seems the only one who notices is me
My heart bleeds again
Drowning in the emptiness of each rotten soul

Why must we be so evil?
Why must we be so cruel?
I can't help but to feel hollow,
Crushed to my very soul

The world drowns
Everyone's seen the empty shell I've become inside
They are all laughing at me
Looking at the skeleton I've turned out to be

Without thinking
I sprint towards the light
I have to keep running
Dark to light

God is around the corner
If I could just reach him,
He'd be my peace

I can't help the world
So, I'll help myself...

Even with darkness creeping behind me
I'll try not to let it destroy me
But to bring out the beauty in me
Flowering into what I was meant to be
 
 
 
© Copyright J. M. Almodovar 2014. All rights reserved.
J. M. Almodovar has granted Knight Chills non-exclusive rights to display this work.

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2014. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Guest Blogger Poetry Presentation.

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Push My Play Button by Nomar Knight





Push My Play Button
By Nomar Knight

Before you came along

Words didn't turn into song

In a crowd yet alone

Got used to being on my own

Like the radio was stuck

A sad dude without luck


Then one day I found you

Didn't know what to do

Words began to rhyme

Kept losing track of time

If you push play

What would they say


You came to say hi

Lovely lips so shy

The hug pushed play

Loneliness went away

In a crowd yet only saw you

I hadn't had a clue


Push my play button baby

Forgot about maybe

Just you and I together

Dancing sweetness forever

Never want it to end

Then you left again


Torture this mystical cause

Like my life was stuck in pause

Your voice lingered in dreams

Almost fell apart at the seams

But fate has its own mind

It's love together we find


Push my play button please

Put my mind at ease

Let's sing our songs together

Don't matter the weather

Through the cold or heat

Let's sway to passion's beat


Yes baby push my play button




©2014 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Nomar Knight Poem.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Our Deadly Connection by Nomar Knight



Our Deadly Connection
 By Nomar Knight

Pendulum of death swings near
Chorus of whimpers amplifies fear
My victims beg and plead
One quick slice and they start to bleed
Anticipation of doom feeds my need
Fully embrace our assassin's creed

Tell me you miss our seductive fights
The caresses and kisses on lonely nights
Together we make a lethal pair
Prolonged separation isn't fair
Rejoin me on our killing spree
Let burning love set you free

Obscurity doesn't suit you
It's my absence that makes you blue
I promise a memorable ride
Come on Candy no need to hide
Two souls in search of something more
You are the one I adore

Soon our paths will cross
Eliminate that sense of loss
Lucas can't give you what you need
For all his illusions of good deeds
Darkness is what you crave
Once again we'll be all the rave

Embrace who you are my darling dear
Our fiery passion will set you clear
You need me like I do you
One look in my eyes you'll know it's true
Quench your thirst for vengeance now
You'll be safe this I vow

In my arms is where you belong
With my resources you can't go wrong
Take back your gun and knife
Be my beloved killer wife
I'm still your number one fan
Your forever lover assassin Sam




©2014 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Nomar Knight Poem.


Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Shattered Illusions by Nomar Knight

Finally a dream dances
Love skips and prances
Clouds clear away
Promises a new day

Dark whispers barely heard

Dare to take chances
Beating heart romances
Soothing songs boom
In a majestic ballroom

Dark whispers linger

Shake up life for love
Watching flying doves
Hugs and kisses find
Must be two of a kind

Dark whispers fade

Destiny confirms
Put away concerns
Made groundbreaking choices
Ignore reason's voices

Dark whispers return

The heart wants
While action taunts
The mind knows
Darkness grows

Dark whispers roar

Happiness shattered illusion
Surrounded by confusion
Just beyond reach
Promises that teach

Dark whispers consume

Despair Evil's lair
Life's not fair
To shrivel up and die
Left asking why

Dark whispers doom



©2014 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Nomar Knight Poem.


Friday, July 18, 2014

Extreme Cleaners by Nomar Knight




Extreme Cleaners
By Nomar Knight


Tommy Tatum got the nickname Tommy Tantrum when he was fourteen-years-old. He had a habit of annoying the girls in his class. The tall lanky fellow would inevitably end up on the floor after a round of hair pulling. The girls would get the upper hand with one swift kick in the nuts. His suffering eventually morphed to a full blown tantrum.
Years later, Tommy grew up and married Carla Towns. She was a petite sweet thing who had never gotten sick a day in her life. It amazed the neighbors how Carla became a klutz soon after marrying Tommy.
The borough of Brooklyn was huge and had several hospitals nearby. Every time Carla “fell” Tommy would take her to a different hospital. One day a doctor recognized the signs of abuse. That same doctor met with a horrible accident. The brakes in her car had malfunctioned and she crashed under a truck.
On a cold night in the city, Tommy’s short fuse ignited after a month long layoff from work. Carla should have known not to suggest she look for employment. The one thing Tommy hated losing was his pride. No longer a young boy who threw tantrums, he replaced that aggression by pounding on Carla every time his ego felt threatened.
“I’m sorry, Tommy. I didn’t mean it.” Carla sobbed and cowered away from Tommy’s raised fist.
“How many times I have to tell you? I’m the man of the house! I provide for you.”
Normally, after pounding her head and face he would stop and drink a bottle of whisky. Then he would coddle her out of guilt to try and ease her pain. Somehow, he always managed to convince Carla to hide the bruises under a pound of makeup.
As Tommy Tantrum struck down on Carla, his blind rage prevented him from seeing how awkward Carla’s head snapped back. It wasn’t until he realized his fists, and the mattress sheets were filled with so much blood that he stopped and panicked.
Instead of reaching for his usual escape in a bottle, he flipped on his laptop and found an internet site that boasted about unique problem solving. The company’s name was Extreme Cleaners and Tommy never expected to see me, an old classmate, at his door.
“Jack?”
Tommy’s eyes looked haunted, his hair disheveled.
“It’s been a long time, Tommy.”
I tried to peek behind him to get a look at the crime scene but he coddled the door close to his body.
“Are you going to call the cops if you don’t like what you see?”
“We promise discretion.” I stared at him with as much compassion as I could muster. “Do you have the two grand in cash?”
Once he let me in the apartment, I could see how his body trembled. He led me to the bedroom where I saw what was left of Carla.
“Is that Carla Towns?”
He nodded. “She’s my wife.”
I set a bag on the floor and put on latex gloves. “Not anymore.”
He opened a small safe that was in a closet and muttered, “Damn woman is costing me my life savings.”
While he fetched the cash, I recalled how Carla had treated me in high school. Her eyes beamed when we talked and she usually twirled her hair. Too bad my old man moved us out of state. I had pretty much forgotten about Carla until I faced enormous challenges as an Army Ranger. As soon as I served my tour, I looked up the beautiful Carla. Unfortunately, Tommy Tantrum had already married her.
“Here you go.” Tommy held a wad of hundred dollar bills.
Without hesitating I shoved them in my pocket.
“Aren’t you going to count it?
I remained silent, pulled an axe out of the large duffle bag along with plastic coverings and trash bags.
“Maybe you should go to a pub or something.”
The compassion I had demonstrated earlier had vanished, replaced by disgust.
“Nah, it’s okay. I can handle it.”
I scanned the room, spotting a bottle of whiskey on the dresser. “You might want some of that.” I said, gesturing to the booze.
He took it and remained in the living room while I went through my cleaning ritual.
After a couple of hours, I placed the sealed trash bags with what was left of Carla’s remains on the floor near the entrance of the living room.
He stared at me through tear filled eyes. “How come you don’t have any blood on you?”
Secrets were power and I didn’t intend to empower Tommy.
Changing the subject, I asked, “Have you gotten your story straight about Carla’s disappearance?”
He shifted baggy, haunted eyes away from my gaze then whispered, “The cops won’t believe me.”
“That’s the trouble with crimes of passion. You didn’t plan for contingencies.”
A confused look consumed him.
“That’s why it’s best to plan ahead. You know, to cover your tracks against those pesky CSI guys.”
“I didn’t know I was going to kill her.” He bowed his head and sobbed as if though he showed remorse for what he had done.
“Ah, but I knew you would eventually kill her. You were a ticking time bomb.”
“How could you know? I haven’t seen you in years until today.”
“That’s true, but a year ago you crossed paths with me in the worse way possible.”
“I don’t understand.”
I stepped closer to Tommy, about ten feet away and continued to enlighten him.
“I was married to an amazing woman. She had a great heart and always looked out for battered women. Imagine my surprise when you took Carla to the emergency room where she worked.
Tommy Tantrum’s face paled.
I continued, “Then when my wife, the doctor that tried to have you jailed, the same doctor that died in a suspicious accident. Well…”
As he rose from the sofa, I pulled out my .45 caliber pistol, equipped with a silencer.
He was about to speak but shut his mouth when I aimed my weapon at him.
“You’re poison Tommy Tantrum. You stole any chance I had with Carla and then you snuffed the life out of my wife.”
I pulled another sheet of plastic from the bag.
“Spread that on the floor for me.”
“How stupid do you think I am?”
“Actually, you haven’t checked if I cleaned your bedroom.”
His eyes popped.
“I’ll save you the time. Everything is the same mess only now your wife is chopped up and in these garbage bags.”
“Are you going to kill me or are you going to break your word and call the cops?”
I pumped a round, striking his belly.
“I promised discretion and I meant it.”
Tommy sprawled on the floor, his body writhing in a silent tantrum of death.
“You know, Tommy, at first I had planned on making this look like a murder suicide, but then I decided, no one is ever going to find your body, but they will find Carla’s.”
I stood near his head and watched as he whimpered.
“You took away any future I could have had with Carla. You took away my wife. So now I took your job away. My father is on the board of directors in that company. And lastly I’m taking away the illusion you tried so hard to maintain. You’ve never been a good man and now when your wife’s chopped up corpse is found, you will be a fugitive for your name is tarnished forever.

Tommy Tantrum was Extreme Cleaners first client and he most certainly would not be the last.

- 1, 268 words

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2014. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

An Unexpected Visitor




An Unexpected Visitor

By Nomar Knight

The other night, after I had chatted with one of my favorite readers, something unexpected happened. I was all set to sleep when I felt the room’s atmosphere change. It wasn’t something drastic like temperature change. It was more like a fluctuation in the darkness itself. I glanced at the mirror and spotted a black mass, darker than the rest of the room. At first I thought a ghost had entered through a mystical portal and was about to reveal its true form to me. However, the shape remained and towered over the front of my bed. Thoughts of something evil, like a demon, quickly vanished as the being communicated to me by putting images in my head. At once, I realized that my old friend, Oscuro, had finally found his way back to me.
For those that don’t know who Oscuro is, he’s the main character in my book, Darkness Roams. He’s the angel of suicide or as he’s known in the underworld, the Suicide King. When I last listened to Oscuro, he had told me that Darkness Roams was part of a long story. This time he got my attention by bombarding my mind with the opening scene to book number two. He was even bold enough to suggest a title. He called it Shadow of Darkness.
Now rest assured that his visit was brief, as would figure with a busy angel of darkness, but long after he was gone, images continued to fill me with a combination of despair and euphoria. Despair struck my inner core because I felt terrified for the victims as I witnessed their demise. Oscuro left no doubt that Shadow of Darkness belongs in the ranks of horror. He reminded me that he faced new challenges and thus recounted a period in his existence when he was vulnerable to supernatural forces. He hinted that he loathed those times but a great many lessons were learned, making him who he is today.
As to why I felt euphoric, Oscuro left me with a huge amount of dark energy, making it almost impossible to sleep. The encounter left me writing a few notes. I could not reach sleep until I formed a plan of attack on this most challenging project. Book number two promises to have plenty of plot twists and loads of suspense to satisfy the newest of readers.
All in all, Oscuro’s unexpected intrusion reminds me that no writer is safe from his muse. In my case, powerful characters enjoy fighting for my attention. Few leave me wanting more while making me feel as if my own life is at risk. Oscuro definitely leaves a jarring impression. Considering he takes suicidal souls into Oblivion to torture them, I suppose my current relationship with him is more acceptable.
Stay tuned my friends for more news about Shadow of Darkness.


Catch you on the dark side!



Nomar Knight


©2014 Copyright.  Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Presentation

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

The Strange Side Of What If




The Strange Side of What If
By Nomar Knight

Warning! If you’re religious you may find this blog entry to be disturbingly offensive.
As some of you may know, I’m on vacation. Unfortunately, it’s a vacation without a physical destination other than my apartment. L As a result of not having the distraction of work, thoughts begin to interrupt any shot I have at serenity. The thoughts appear in the form of what if scenarios. Here are a few…
What if religion has it wrong?
What if it’s not God, but G.O.D. which stands for Givers of Destiny? Yes, givers as in an entire network of beings working to fulfill your wishes in advance to your trip, um, life experience.
What if for some reason you’re not satisfied with your life; and if you behaved unselfishly, you get a shot at another life? In other words, what if reincarnation is REAL?
What if when you die and don’t believe that Jesus is the son of God? As a result, your after death experience doesn’t include the hippie looking bearded white guy, but a morbid clown on account of all those killer clown movies you watched.
What if you were an atheist and instead of meeting George Carlin in the afterlife, you find yourself stuck in a room with no windows or doors and just a bunch of mirrors surrounding you? Does that mean you have to pray to yourself? Will Joe Pesci save you? And more importantly, how do you get out?
What if Heaven is real but once you’re there to stay, you are faced with interesting choices. One possible choice may be that you may want to spy on your spouse to see how quickly she cheated on you. I’m sorry I meant “look after” loved ones. Perhaps another possible choice would be to haunt your killer and his entire family for generations to come. Nah! Haunting wouldn’t be sanctioned in heaven. Heaven is supposed to be for good people. Animals and innocent children get in automatically. I know this because it is written in the Bible that the hippie guy said that it’s easy for children to get into the kingdom of heaven. He also said rich people are screwed. And the Bible is a trustworthy source, right? As for the animals, I’ve seen pictures of ghosts in the form of pets like cats and dogs. I’ve seen it on the internet so it must be true, right?
What if heaven is a dimension that could be travelled through one of two ways? Way number one which is easy but painful at least at first, is through death. The big finale is guaranteed to us all and many of us are afraid that we’re running out of time. The second way is through time itself. In other words, what if we can travel through a portal that will take us to heaven? The concept sounds ludicrous upon further thought since the realm of heaven is preserved for souls not bodies. How do I know that? Let’s just say I have a hunch.
What if religion is man’s way of hiding the existence of aliens from another galaxy? What if Darwin was right and we are all descendants of apes until an alien inserted his DNA and we evolved into power hungry monsters who want more than just bananas?
What if society’s game of politics is rigged so only the chosen one percent can win? And what is it that they win?
Now, you see why I don’t like having too much time on my hands. Next year I must plan a trip. Perhaps I shall go to Transylvania. Maybe I’ll run into my character, The Countess Lorraina Sandoval. She is a most ruthless vampire.
Ooh, what if vampires weren’t real?


Catch you on the dark side.



Nomar Knight


©2014 Copyright.  Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Presentation

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

The Birth of a Hero



We are more often treacherous through weakness than through calculation. ~Fran├žois VI de la Rochefoucault

The Birth of a Hero
By Nomar Knight

Intense desperation makes for unpredictable and often exciting characters. Unfortunately, our quest to live a peaceful life may seep into our writing. Perhaps that may have something to do with the fact I haven’t written anything worth bragging about in over a month. I need to get back to basics. I need to open my mind to evil alternatives that dangle within reach. I need to embrace the darkness once again.
Considering I have just worked ten months with teens, I think it’s only fitting that I torture a teenage character. Yes, what do all teens crave for? Some want to be popular, others want to be good at something they suck at, and yet others want to fix a part of themselves they deem damaged. Girls may focus on their bodies while boys may want the hottest girl or to be the best at some sport. Boys love a good ego boost. That settles it; my next character will be an average looking 17 year old boy who has a knack for being invisible to his peers. Invisible until a new student bullies him and brings out a power he doesn’t know he has. The hero is a chronic daydreamer who when faced with constant harassment, discovers that the mind is truly a powerful weapon.
Ah, alas I can shake up what’s been lying dormant inside me this past year. Writing supernatural suspense is like chugging down an icy Corona beer while lying under a palm tree on a Caribbean beach. Refreshing! Let’s see if I can pull it off. Yes, that’s right! I’m going to attempt my first Young Adult novel and I’m hoping you, my wonderful Knight Chills readers, will cheer me on every step of the way. Lord knows I’ll need a swift kick in the ass on occasion.

Catch you on the Dark Side! 

©2014 Copyright.  Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Presentation

Monday, May 19, 2014

A Soul Corrupted




A Soul Corrupted

By Nomar Knight

Anger can be a most useful emotion. Unfortunately, most people allow raw anger to turn into loathing. I’ve heard some people say that humans manifest their feelings about themselves when lashing out at others. Although this may be true, anger is best reserved for help with menial tasks such as prying open a stubborn lid on a jar. Carrying a grudge is indeed like swallowing something toxic and expecting the object of their anger to die as if that person were drinking the tainted blood coursing through their veins. Inevitably, when the fuming tyrant realizes what’s boiling in their insides does not affect their target, another sliver of the angry soul burns off and permeates into the mountain of unnecessary despair.
As luck would have it, there are numerous ways to burn up the toxic emotion and use it for good instead of evil. One way is to start an exercise program. A good couple mile run can do wonders in redirecting the draining emotion. However, if you prefer exercising the brain over fine tuning the body, then a great way to use anger is through imaginary characters. Through writing, one can exact vengeance in a way that would not permit the aggressor to be thrown in jail. In reality, I’ve read news reports where mugging victims that reacted with anger got injured or killed. I say True Death would be extremely counterproductive.
Now, for those stubborn wannabe vigilantes reading this, if you insist on staying angry, then perhaps a quiet way to let out your dark side is to be knighted into the realm of witchcraft. No, I’m kidding of course. Not everyone can possess my powers. Not everyone can call upon the forces of vengeance from the supernatural realm and meat out a fitting punishment. Don’t worry. I haven’t killed any characters in at least a month.
At any rate, if you take one thing away from this blog entry is that anger is indeed a wasted emotion that would be best channeled into something productive.
By the way, if you really want to get even, then smile at your enemy and forgive them. You may catch them off guard and release the poison from your soul once and for all.



Catch you on the Dark Side! 


©2014 Copyright.  Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Presentation

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Broken Valentine




Broken Valentine
By Nomar Knight

I hold a cane
To explain the pain
Grimacing, panting
As if age is ranting
But truth be told
It’s not growing old
That bothers me
More an ache you can’t see

Staleness escapes my pores
A hollowed emptiness implores
By circumstance or chance
Keeps us from our dance
Can’t let on
It hurts that you’re gone
Come soothe me
Make us happy

Fits of laughter keep
A darkened soul so deep
Hiding from prying eyes
Drowning in a pool of lies
How much longer will this last?
Will it ever come to pass?
Be mine Valentine
Cut through sordid vines

Time is a heartless brute
Stomping on desire for truth
Allow love to bloom
Not like a bomb’s boom
But an angel’s choir
Filled with hungry desire
Until you’re set free
We’ll linger in misery





©2014 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Nomar Knight Poem.