ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW MY WORKS! ------------------------------------------------- T J Rintoull, born 1983, currently residing on the Gold Coast in Australia, grew up in a combination of city housing, winnebago travelling and bush shacks, before entering the worlds of music, art and literature. Told often that he should have attended university to better himself, instead he devotes his time to working dead end jobs in order to pay the bills, and his spare time to creating music and literature. He confesses that although he loves to paint he has no ability with a brush whatsoever. Currently T J Rintoull resides with his fiance in a small flat, as he continues to attempt a measure of success with his band and his writing. _________________________________________________ PLEASE READ AND REVIEW MY WORKS! [May 2006]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (43) A Better Friend (Poetry) Poem for solitude and loneliness. [94 words] [Motivational] A Haiku (Poetry) A Haiku [8 words] [Mind] A Name Will Come (Songs) The first of many song lyrics to be included here - this written for the world today, for things we've lost, faith in ourselves and many other things - this is the title song of my band. [218 words] [Spiritual] A Simple Hope (Poetry) A short poem I wrote while at work. [57 words] [Motivational] A Sudden Burst Of Sunshine (Short Stories) Arty awakens on a farm with amnesia and is forced over a single day to come to grips with his former life. [7,122 words] [Popular Fiction] Bald (Poetry) A complaint against nature and pattern baldness. [132 words] [Nature] Brothers And Sisters (Songs) I was told, "good people don't like you" This was the result. [128 words] [Relationships] California Gothic (Poetry) This poem is simultaneously a blighted personal love poem and one big metaphor for an attack on modern society. [155 words] [Motivational] Cliches Are Still Feelings (Poetry) The entire poem is one big cliche nowadays, or so I'm told. Is it still relevant? Is it thematic plagiarism? You be the judge. [90 words] [Romance] Downtime (Poetry) Lyrics to a song, written for my band. [164 words] [Motivational] Epistle To Faeries Past (Short Stories) A letter to a ghost of the past. [814 words] [Drama] Fire Fright (Poetry) Read the poem please. [172 words] [Mind] Goin Pro (Songs) Sarcasm, metaphor, this song is all of these things and more. Unless of course you're going pro... [63 words] [Erotic] In Dreams (Poetry) Poem written at work, for nothing more than disillusioned ambition. [69 words] [Motivational] Left (Poetry) It's not really a poem about breakups, although initially it would seems so. It's about more than that - interpersonal relationships falling apart, as well as a minor metaphor for the world at large. [152 words] [Relationships] Moments To Remember (Short Stories) The first and last moments of true love... [683 words] [Romance] New Year's Day (Poetry) This was written on the morning of the new year. [105 words] [Mind] One Small Step At A Time (Short Stories) A glass-half empty kind of guy named Allan makes a big triumph in a small tragedy. [494 words] [Psychology] Out Of Ink, Out Of Time (Short Stories) Tongue-in cheek short story about office work and accidents of quantum physics. [627 words] [Literary Fiction] Poem For Poet's Sake (Poetry) A poem about the poet - striking out westward in search of something new. [99 words] [Mind] Poem - Reasons (Poetry) Lyrics for a song. [179 words] [Mind] Poena Acer (Poetry) Short Lyric Poem. [27 words] [Mind] Poena Aetas (Poetry) As always, sophomore description of heartache and pain, this time expressed as a tattoo. [83 words] [Mind] Poena Affectus (Poetry) Small collection of lyrics and poems, (also lyric poems) - many of these are untitled. [1,142 words] [Mind] Poena Convoco (Poetry) Another metaphoric, or perhaps not so metaphoric attack on the modern world - but as always I seem to constrict its purity with personal memories. [120 words] [Business] Poena Defendo (Poetry) Poem written while attending a carnival/field day in the heart of country pig hunting territory; these words were inspired by some of the people and imagery at the functions I attended. [77 words] [Animal] Poena Flumen (Poetry) Of Rivers and Flowers and Life And Love and Pain. [87 words] [Spiritual] Poena Labo (Poetry) On friends liars and life. [91 words] [Relationships] Poena Speculum (Poetry) For the wanderer and watcher. [52 words] Poena Termes (Poetry) A tree falling. A teardrop landing. [21 words] [Nature] Poena Texo (Poetry) Second Collection Of Short Poems On The General Subject Of Pain - dealing with inner and outer turmoil, conflict and heartache. Deep. [364 words] Poeta Postulo (Poetry) The poet's question of his feminist muse. [226 words] Shopping (Short Stories) She went shopping - he was left home alone... [501 words] [Relationships] Sleep Insane (Poetry) Continuation of California Gothic, but from a different mind, view, philosophy and life. [83 words] [Mind] The Evening Red (Poetry) Do you drink....wine? [46 words] [Health] The Golden Man (Poetry) Originally I thought to make this a story - but I thought it better as a short poem. [96 words] [Spiritual] The Great Procrastination (Poetry) Self explanatory, really. [121 words] [Mind] The Office (Poetry) I couldn't work out if this was a micro-short or a prose poem. The way it's written it's a short story, but I think there's too much rhyme, and it's a bit too short. Anyway, here it is for your pleasu... [474 words] [Mind] This Marble Reflection (Poetry) Surrealism - in prose. [118 words] Toad (Poetry) Poem - about a toad. [50 words] Upon Waking (Poetry) Upon waking, this short lyric poem came to me. [60 words] [Psychology] Wamphyrri (Poetry) Romantic sense of the vampire. [177 words] [Horror] You Said.... (Poetry) Short freeform poem descriptive of the deserted wounded lover. [59 words] [Drama]
Bathroom Memorial T J Rintoull
Darcy reached for the telephone. His hands were shaking, his eyes wide. An old, melancholy song floated in from the next room, and he hardened his resolve. He picked up the receiver, dialled the familiar digits. The phone rang out, once, twice, over and over in a seeming eternity. His friends sat in the next room, laughing and joking; he knew what they were up to. Sex, drugs and rock n roll. He couldn’t take it. He had to speak to someone, or it was all over.
What a joke, he thought to himself. They’re in the next room and they have no idea. Great friends.
Their laughter was a beacon in the darkness, like a safe place to hide when monsters came to take him away, but Darcy just couldn’t bear to face them. It was too much. Pain, sadness, anxiety, fear; these were things he understood, things he spoke to deep in the night, when he stood on his balcony looking up at the full moon, tears pouring down his pale, gaunt cheeks. Laughter and mirth were as alien to him as his cool, plush surroundings.
Could have been happy here, he joked in his mind. Could have been great friends. But its not going to happen.
He looked out of his window; the night sky was dark and cloudy, casting no light on his situation. He knew that the sunshine would not come to him anymore; the dark, stormy clouds would linger on, secretly whispering his failures from afar. He looked inside, and found nothing, just a broken heart. In the next room, the song changed from melancholic country to hard rock, and he acted in response to the music. He slammed the useless phone back onto the receiver, and headed for the bathroom.
Locking the door behind him, he stopped in front of the mirror, and looked deep into his face. He was a sad youth, trapped within his own inconsistencies, with nowhere to turn. He had paid his dues already, long before he should have had to. He had done more for every person in the next room than they would have dreamed of doing for him. Dreams seeped into his thoughts, of a quaint little weatherboard house close to a sandy beach, palm trees and clean surf breaking on the shore, maybe even a lover who just wanted him for who he was, and not for what he ought to be. He knew it wasn’t going to happen. It was just too much for a freak like him to ask for what everyone around him enjoyed; he didn’t deserve it anyway, so there was no point dreaming about it.
Tomorrow he would be just another statistic, a stupid kid who’d taken everything a bit too seriously and been too weak to handle it.
Yeah right! His brain laughed. It takes a lot more courage to step into the unknown, into death, than it does to stay in a crummy little comfort zone. Then again, even that’s just an excuse for what I’m going to do.
He had wished for a lot of things once. Now he wished for nothing. Mostly on account of he had realised he wouldn’t get what he wished for anyway, no matter how much he did the can-do thing. It just wasn’t going to happen.
Suddenly the cold, clear steel was between his fingers, clenched in earnest, fearful resolution. He filled the porcelain basin with warm water, and hacked at his wrist. Once, twice, over and over again, he cut into wet, pink skin.
God that hurts! He grimaced with the pain, and then swapped hands, slicing his other wrist with the razor and wincing at the cold slashes on his forearm.
Plunging his hands into the water, he watched the blood trickle out from his veins, slowly, but surely.
Free at last! He crowed inwardly, experiencing a momentary feeling of validation.
Something was wrong; he had stopped bleeding. The blood in his forearms had clotted and blocked the flow, saving his life and destroying his last hope. He had neither the strength nor the resolve to attempt suicide again in the face of this failure. He sank to the floor, sobbing. Blood and water trickled from his wet wrists onto the floor, pooling pink around him.
Unbelievable. He chided himself. You haven’t even got the guts to kill yourself.
Looking out of his bathroom window, Darcy saw that the clouds were still in the sky, and the moon was trapped behind them.
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