Monday, April 25, 2016

Check Out My Poetry in The 2015 Soul Fountain Anthology of Poetry

I was very happily surprised today to discover that my poetry has been included in the 2015 Soul Fountain Anthology of Poetry, which you can find here:

Saturday, April 23, 2016

New Song Lyrics: My Poor Mother’s Country Land

My Poor Mother’s Country Land
by, Melissa R. Mendelson

Green earth sways and rolls.
This is my mother’s home,
But mother, please forgive me.
They don’t know the wrong they’ve done.

Blue skies have fallen.
The gray clouds have come,
And here comes the thunder,
Rolling in,
Screaming at all they’ve done.

What have they done?
What have they done to you?
Why can’t they just leave you be,
My poor country,
My mother’s home,
And there is nothing that I can do.
Nothing I could say or scream.
I can only leave.
I can only leave.

So many graves.
So many lives lived and stolen away.
Their pasts robbed
For this is no longer their land.

We’ve tried so hard,
And we’ve failed so many times
For they’ve ensnared us in a web of lies,
And our enemy is strong,
A black mass swarm
Covering my mother’s home.


No future here for this land’s for sale, and dollar is king in their mighty manifest destiny plan.

Repeat Twice

Thursday, April 21, 2016


Lyrics by, Melissa R. Mendelson
Performed by HitRecord Artist, EvaSeven

Can you see heaven
up there in the sky?
Can you see the light
through those dark clouds?
Have you ever looked up
past this cold world
and tried to just fly?

My beating heart
breaks against my chest
with every hope that rises
and falls back down.
Each beat
is a wave
that carries my heart
above this world.

And the sun melts into the sea.
Golden lights become the rainbow over me.
I can see heaven
in the distance.
The clouds have parted,
and I see heaven before me.

Have you ever seen heaven
in the eyes of the one,
who you have given your heart to
and wait for his love in return?

Have you ever seen past those dark clouds
that hover over you?
Ever try to stand on your own
and away from what holds you down?
Are your eyes open
to the world around you,
or do you keep them closed?


Tuesday, April 19, 2016

New Story: The Silent Invasion

The Silent Invasion
by, Melissa R. Mendelson

It was late at night.  It was cold too.  I huddled against my sister in the backseat as she slept soundly.  The night filtered in, and the moon kissed me good-night.  But there was nothing good about this night as the car sped away, and our house burned.

The street lights fell against my mother’s face, giving her a haunted glow.  Her tears were like little white crystals that the darkness eagerly engulfed.  Her soft pink lips pressed together, and then her mouth fell open.  No words escaped.  There was nothing to say.  There was nothing to do.  They had won, and we had to leave.  But where would we go?

My father gripped the steering wheel tightly, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.  He glanced up at me through the rearview mirror.  He refused to speak.  He refused to show emotion, weakness.  He would stay strong.  He had to for the sake of this family, but I knew our loss and their win cut him deeply.  For a long time, he spread warning that the invasion was coming, and some refused to believe.  Others tried to fight, but how can you push back a black swarm bent on total annihilation, chased with their oblivion?  You can’t.

I tried to shake the chill from my bones.  I could hear the heat blowing out of the vents of this old car, begging to reach me.  They fell short, and white breath escaped my lips.  My small hand cleared the window, wiping away the defeat, and I peered outside, trying to penetrate the darkness.  There were no signs of life.  When the invasion came just like my father said it would, most ran.  They knew that there was no point in fighting, but if only they had stayed and fought, then maybe things would have been different.  Instead, they were gone, and now we were running too.

A man caught my attention.  He was dressed in rags with a long, gray overcoat.  His head was hunched down, and he slowly chased his shadow.  He looked my way and then raised a torn gloved hand.  I waved back, noting the sadness in his eyes.  Defeat.  I saw it in my father’s eyes too as he looked back at me in the rearview mirror, and I knew that he wanted to say, “Sit back down.  Don’t stare outside the window.  Go to sleep like your sister.”  He was at a loss for words just like my mother.

Suddenly, I got angry.  My little fists pounded against the seat before me, and I screamed.  I screamed until I thought I would burst, but no sound escaped.  Nothing.  Not even a whisper.  Maybe, just a gasp of air, if I was lucky, and I fell back against my seat, defeated.  How could we have let them do this?  How could we have been so foolish, so quiet until the quiet robbed us blind?  We were wrong, and they won.  They won because they knew that they would win, and they played their wicked games right up until the end.  And it made me want to scream some more, but I was spent.  And again, the moon slipped out from its clouded cage, soothing my wounds and pushing me further into this darkest night.

Monday, April 11, 2016

Now For A Limited Time: Glass Skies Over Home

Glass Skies Over Home is a journey across three novellas, plunging deep into the human heart and penetrating the darkness that holds us to mystery.  Three lives spin far from the ordinary life, thrusting them into extraordinary circumstances, and there’s no turning back.  Challenges that lie before them will raise the stakes high, insurmountable odds, breaking them beyond limitation, and pushing them to the brink of death, but for them to surrender is for them to deny destiny.  They ‘re chosen, and fate is waiting.

Glass Skies Over Home is a completed 51,243 word Mystery/Suspense novel.  It haunts the footsteps of stories told through The Outer Limits and The Twilight Zone.  It's targeted toward an adult audience as well as teen-aged audience.

Please check out the link below to view a free copy of Glass Skies Over Home:

Which One Is Your Favorite Story?

Saturday, April 02, 2016

No Rest For The Weekend

No Rest For The Weekend

by, Melissa R. Mendelson

It was 4:45 p.m. on a Sunday.  The thruway was backed up for hours because some jackass couldn’t drive, and in his stupidity, he took out five other cars.  The sun was baking down on this hot day, and the thought of being in a standstill, baking was not ideal to me.  I took a side road.  Then, another side road, and then another.  And I have no idea where I am.

Suddenly, my car shuddered.  Its lights on the dashboard flickered.  Then, it stopped, and a cloud of white smoke blew out from the engine.  I unbuckled my seatbelt fast and flew out of the car, thinking that it was about to explode.  As I laid there on the dirt road, my car remained still, reminding me of that old lady at the diner, who curled up into a ball on the stone steps and smoked, and as she smoked, billows of white escaped from her lips.  Still, no explosion, and I gingerly crawled back into the car, praying for life.  But the car was dead, and I was stuck.

I pulled out my cell phone, thanking my lucky stars that the phone was charged.  Unfortunately, there was no reception.  When night falls, and it was falling fast, the only use that my cell phone could provide me was with the flashlight.  Otherwise, I would be lucky, if a bear didn’t come and eat me.  Damn it, I muttered, and then I looked left.  And to my amazement, I spotted a small town in the distance.  Maybe, I wasn’t so screwed after all.

As I walked toward the town, clutching my duffel bag and cell phone, I thought about my life.  What was the hurry anyway?  My girlfriend left me for the landlord.  I was stuck in a dead end retail job.  My parents wanted me to come back home, but for what?  To do what?  Live in the room that I grew up in and figure out what to do with my life?  I had no clue.  I just had to get away, and I should have stayed on the thruway.  The accident was probably cleared by now, and I should have waited.  Instead, I hope these townspeople can assist me with a tow, maybe a car or cab, and then…  Then, I guess I would have to find my way back home, but where the hell was I?

The town was awfully quiet.  A soft fog settled across it.  There were no lights on anywhere.  There were cars, and they were all parked along the streets.  But there were no people.  The traffic lights were working, but that was about it.  Even the diner was closed.  There was no one, and night had fallen.

I tried the small police station.  The lights were off.  The glass doors were locked.  Were they all off duty?  I noticed a sign nearby that read: Population of 100, but there was no name for the town.  But there were a 100 people here, so where were the people?  Why weren’t they around, and what was I going to do for the night?

Thank God, they had a small inn.  Those doors were locked too, but the side door was left open.  Maybe, someone went on a cigarette break and forgot to close the door.  Their mistake, and my good fortune.  Still, no people.

There was food left out in a small kitchen area.  I had money on me, so I dropped it on the table.  And then I had dinner.  Usually, the quiet doesn’t bother me, but tonight it did.  And nobody bothered me.  Nobody was here, but I felt like I wasn’t alone.  And I felt guilty for sneaking across the counter and grabbing a few keys.  I had no idea if the rooms were taken.  They probably weren’t.  Nobody was here, but just to be on the safe side, I took a few keys.  And I slowly moved up the staircase nearby.

I tried the first key.  The room was dark, but I could see their shadows against the walls.  I apologized, but I got no response.  I know I should not have done it, but I turned on the lights.  And there they were, a mother, father, and two small kids, and they were just standing there with their eyes closed.

“I’m terribly sorry,” I said, but they did not respond.  “Hello?”  Nothing.  “I’m sorry,” I said louder, but they didn’t move.  They remained standing there like statues with their eyes still closed.  “I didn’t think anyone was here,” but still nothing.  “I’m going to go now,” and I backed out of the room and closed the door.  “Weird,” and I stood outside the door for a long moment, wondering if they were just ignoring me.  I forgot to turn the lights off, but as I turned the doorknob, a chill ran down my spine.  Maybe, I should go to the next room.

The second room was the same, but this time, there was an elderly couple.  And they were holding hands.  Smiles stretched across their faces.  They looked like they were dead, but they were breathing.  And now, I built up the courage to tap them on the shoulder, but they didn’t respond.  I tapped the elderly woman harder, half expecting a good slap in the face, but still nothing.  And then I saw the calendar on the wall, and it was the strangest thing.  It was missing Saturday and Sunday.

I realized that I was very tired.  It was a long day.  I had been on the road for hours, and I could use a good sleep.  But as I thought that, I could hear a scream from the back of my mind.  “Don’t sleep,” the voice said, and it nearly knocked me over.  And I shook with fear, and I whispered to the statues, “Why?”  No response.

The third room was empty.  I was grateful for that, and at least, the second time, I remembered to turn off their lights.  I kept my lights on, and I was fighting sleep now.  Every part of me wanted to sleep, but that scream got louder and louder.  “Don’t sleep,” the voice screamed.  “Don’t sleep,” and I knew something was wrong.  Why wasn’t there a Saturday or Sunday on the calendar?  Why did that bother me so much, but who was going to give me the answer?  And why wasn’t there a television set in this room?  What was I supposed to do with myself?  Luckily, I had solitaire on my cell phone, but as I begun to play, my eyes grew heavy.  I fought sleep back and played some more, and I thought I was winning.  But I lost instead.

I awoke to the birds singing outside my window.  Life stirred outside, and I actually heard cars moving up and down the streets.  People were calling to each other and saying, “Good Morning.  Beautiful Monday,” which was odd, I think.  And I could smell breakfast flowing up the staircase and slipping into each and every room, and I was starving.  I really hope that they will take pity on me, but why would I think that?  I was a guest here, and I hurried down the stairs, hoping some breakfast would be left for me.

“Good morning,” a plump woman greeted me.  “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.  Actually, I did.  Thank you, and I’m sorry.”

“For what,” she asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m sorry.”

“Well, don’t be,” and she placed money back in my hand.  “You are our guest,” and she started to walk away from me.

“Wait,” and she paused at that.  “There was something…  Something important.”  She stared at me, waiting.  “Why is there no Saturday or Sunday?”

“I’m sorry.  I don’t know what you’re talking about, but before you know it, it will be Friday.”  She walked away from me after that.

“Friday.  No.  That’s not it.”  I was really bothered now, and I forgot about breakfast.  I walked outside into the warm, beautiful sunlight.  I wanted to bake in it, and as I stood under its rays, I thought of traffic.  Why would I think of traffic?  I moved toward the small police station, and as I did, everyone greeted me.  And I greeted them by waving and smiling, and as I did, I felt lighter, happier.  Why was I going to the police station?  I had work to do.  Custodial work, I think.  I should go back to the inn.  They were after all letting me stay there for free, and why did she give me money this morning?  As I turned around to head back toward the inn, a sign caught my eye.  It read: Population of 101.