Snow fell like the whispers in the back of the room
When she entered
Accumulating
Susan would just dig out again and wait for the warmth
Of the daylight to melt it all away
Music danced down the street
And couldn’t even be silenced by the cold winter’s wind
It was Thursday and his night
He could have his two malts and enjoy the tunes
A good song was like a good draft
Enjoyed while listening/drinking
But left around too long it would go flat
His thoughts were interrupted by the unlined young voices next to him
A low rumble about something Susan had done
She was a friend of his
Friends are better than diamonds
Diamond worth is artificially controlled by just a few
Friends are like the beauty of the night sky
Owned by all
Starshine was a gift
The TV was blaring a news item
A cheetah was found by a farmer just on the other side of his fence
It wasn’t dead on the face of Kilamenjaro
Just a lifeless fur coat tangled up in wire in the dust
The smooth browed environmentalists were up in arms about the loss
Of habitat
They were picketing the farmer for encroachment
A body lay dead in an alley
It didn’t even have a fur coat
A shopkeeper complained about the smell
No one knew its name
But shoppers had seen a homeless person hanging on the corner
Just days before
No one picketed the alley
As he left the bar the first few snow flakes began to fall
He felt the cold uniqueness of each flake hit his face
An individual flake is lost in the crowd that falls
And either melts on contact or is smashed together with the rest
Susan waited for the phone call that wouldn’t come
She stared blankly out of her window
Doing the dishes
Disconnected
A slow smile crept over her face
The stars made the sky not so dark
Monday, December 24, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Point of Reference
Some painted turtles danced a slow jitterbug
While the bright noon sun was high in the sky
The reticent fish looked on from the shallows
Where the reeds grew thick
A train headed for Chicago clanked quickly past
Knowing that there was another train heading its
Way
No one was watching as the tree silently fell
A single thought does not stand on its own
It follows on a line as does one point to the next
The couple on the blanket in the field did not see any of this
Only each other’s company
As they ate their sandwiches and drank the tea
Languid eyes meeting their opposite pair
Creatures in the high summer grasses looked on
In anticipation
There would be crumbs left over
A gentle brush of hands reaching for the same glass
Shy smiles shared
Tumbling thoughts of what might be
Futures twining like the vines in woods on a single tree
Each reaching for moments beyond this one
Skin warmed from both sides
The light of day matching the glow from within
Thoughts danced like the painted turtles
Doing a tango on the floating logs
While the bright noon sun was high in the sky
The reticent fish looked on from the shallows
Where the reeds grew thick
A train headed for Chicago clanked quickly past
Knowing that there was another train heading its
Way
No one was watching as the tree silently fell
A single thought does not stand on its own
It follows on a line as does one point to the next
The couple on the blanket in the field did not see any of this
Only each other’s company
As they ate their sandwiches and drank the tea
Languid eyes meeting their opposite pair
Creatures in the high summer grasses looked on
In anticipation
There would be crumbs left over
A gentle brush of hands reaching for the same glass
Shy smiles shared
Tumbling thoughts of what might be
Futures twining like the vines in woods on a single tree
Each reaching for moments beyond this one
Skin warmed from both sides
The light of day matching the glow from within
Thoughts danced like the painted turtles
Doing a tango on the floating logs
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Sand and Tide
Early morning soft sea breeze smiles over the salt marshes
I taste it
You’re still wrapped in the sheet, asleep
On your side pointing to the north
Like some present still hidden beneath conscientiousness
Shallow slumber breaths
That last light dream before awakening
I feel your warmth
The sky is just beginning to lighten
From the darkness of night
I hear the waves gently kissing the sand
As sounds start to drift into the open window
The whine of another day
That large machinery is not yet in gear
There is still time
Somewhere outside someone is calling a name
I see your eyes flutter awake
Not yet aware of what’s outside of your last thoughts
Good mornings are yet to come
I taste it
You’re still wrapped in the sheet, asleep
On your side pointing to the north
Like some present still hidden beneath conscientiousness
Shallow slumber breaths
That last light dream before awakening
I feel your warmth
The sky is just beginning to lighten
From the darkness of night
I hear the waves gently kissing the sand
As sounds start to drift into the open window
The whine of another day
That large machinery is not yet in gear
There is still time
Somewhere outside someone is calling a name
I see your eyes flutter awake
Not yet aware of what’s outside of your last thoughts
Good mornings are yet to come
Friday, December 14, 2007
John's Corner
My face is getting warm
The sun has come over the building behind me
I should take off one of my coats
“Good morning.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“Oh well, maybe someone will give you some
“God still loves you and that’s more important.”
“Whatever.”
I will put my coat in my box, it’s a sturdy seat
“Good day John.”
“Oh hello there, how are you this really good day?”
“Well John, we’re having a little trouble at work.”
“I find that if you just know there are flowers, it all is ok.”
“That’s a nice thought, John, thank you.”
Everyone is a son or daughter or sister or brother or father or mother
I didn’t even know that Mom’s dad was alive
She never spoke of him
Then I found out he’s the old man on the corner by the library
I ride the bus downtown and take him a sandwich
When I can
“Thank you young lady; I bet that your folks are proud of you.”
I had children once and they were my delight
But they are gone somewhere
I’ll save some of this for later
I will put this somewhere where I’ll remember
Oh, here’s some from before
Can you believe that he’s my father and he lives in a box
He hangs around on that corner and talks to people
What if people find out that he’s related
I don’t know how mother put up with him for so long
She was glad when he drifted off
He should have gotten better help; I bet he didn’t want it
Sun’s almost in my face, I should put on my hat
“Hello there, how are you?”
“It’s suppose to rain John; better get indoors.”
“Oh it’s sunny now, I’ll work it out later; but thanks for your concern.”
I have some plastic in my box for that, I think
It’s in here somewhere
“Hi John.”
“Hello there; I have a coin for you I found.”
“John, you should keep your money.”
“No, I just thought of this coin and you said hello so it must be yours.”
I’ve watched him chat up people on the street
He’s kind and gentle but lost under that great gob of gray streaked hair
There’s no yesterday or tomorrow
Just whatever moment he’s in
Someone should take him to a shelter
The sun has come over the building behind me
I should take off one of my coats
“Good morning.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“Oh well, maybe someone will give you some
“God still loves you and that’s more important.”
“Whatever.”
I will put my coat in my box, it’s a sturdy seat
“Good day John.”
“Oh hello there, how are you this really good day?”
“Well John, we’re having a little trouble at work.”
“I find that if you just know there are flowers, it all is ok.”
“That’s a nice thought, John, thank you.”
Everyone is a son or daughter or sister or brother or father or mother
I didn’t even know that Mom’s dad was alive
She never spoke of him
Then I found out he’s the old man on the corner by the library
I ride the bus downtown and take him a sandwich
When I can
“Thank you young lady; I bet that your folks are proud of you.”
I had children once and they were my delight
But they are gone somewhere
I’ll save some of this for later
I will put this somewhere where I’ll remember
Oh, here’s some from before
Can you believe that he’s my father and he lives in a box
He hangs around on that corner and talks to people
What if people find out that he’s related
I don’t know how mother put up with him for so long
She was glad when he drifted off
He should have gotten better help; I bet he didn’t want it
Sun’s almost in my face, I should put on my hat
“Hello there, how are you?”
“It’s suppose to rain John; better get indoors.”
“Oh it’s sunny now, I’ll work it out later; but thanks for your concern.”
I have some plastic in my box for that, I think
It’s in here somewhere
“Hi John.”
“Hello there; I have a coin for you I found.”
“John, you should keep your money.”
“No, I just thought of this coin and you said hello so it must be yours.”
I’ve watched him chat up people on the street
He’s kind and gentle but lost under that great gob of gray streaked hair
There’s no yesterday or tomorrow
Just whatever moment he’s in
Someone should take him to a shelter
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Embers
The sun’s path is low over the horizon
Summer’s memory is as faded as light at the end of day
Sky’s blue has gone to blue-gray
A single cumulus cloud still shift changes with imagination
And what sun’s light there is belongs to all
“Another suicide bomber blew-up a five foot hole in front ...”
The news reader’s hair is perfect, it doesn’t move
She’s describing the bomb’s crater
Human suffering is too much to tell
“In other news, he walked into the mall and began shooting...”
He stares straight into the camera, smiling
He tells about the number of shots
But nothing concerning the number shot
“The ice storm caused electricity outages all along...”
The map showed counties but not faces of the cold
Cries, wailing, screams, were louder than the sounds of flames
Black smoke from bodies and buildings raced to cover the summer
Sky
Villages, stone buildings, towns, cities,
Elderly, youngsters, men, women, children, heaped or single
Litter the ground
Through the ages
Stones, clubs, knives, spears, arrows, lances, swords, bullets, bombs
Hand-to-hand, bombing runs, or long-range missiles
The sky is dark with fear
I was there, in a village, when the dream was shot with an arrow,
Saw it stabbed and another poisoned in a town,
Watched it cut with a sword on a field,
I was there at the shots in Memphis,
And in California
It was critically wounded and hid
But it has not died
Laying dormant, waiting to arise like a phoenix
Sunlight belongs to all of us
Bathing faces in its warm glow
When the clouds part
Summer’s memory is as faded as light at the end of day
Sky’s blue has gone to blue-gray
A single cumulus cloud still shift changes with imagination
And what sun’s light there is belongs to all
“Another suicide bomber blew-up a five foot hole in front ...”
The news reader’s hair is perfect, it doesn’t move
She’s describing the bomb’s crater
Human suffering is too much to tell
“In other news, he walked into the mall and began shooting...”
He stares straight into the camera, smiling
He tells about the number of shots
But nothing concerning the number shot
“The ice storm caused electricity outages all along...”
The map showed counties but not faces of the cold
Cries, wailing, screams, were louder than the sounds of flames
Black smoke from bodies and buildings raced to cover the summer
Sky
Villages, stone buildings, towns, cities,
Elderly, youngsters, men, women, children, heaped or single
Litter the ground
Through the ages
Stones, clubs, knives, spears, arrows, lances, swords, bullets, bombs
Hand-to-hand, bombing runs, or long-range missiles
The sky is dark with fear
I was there, in a village, when the dream was shot with an arrow,
Saw it stabbed and another poisoned in a town,
Watched it cut with a sword on a field,
I was there at the shots in Memphis,
And in California
It was critically wounded and hid
But it has not died
Laying dormant, waiting to arise like a phoenix
Sunlight belongs to all of us
Bathing faces in its warm glow
When the clouds part
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
So Much More
It was so much more than a silent night
Voices raised to the joy in the world
Each register reaching notes on high
Pure human sounds transcending emotions
Tones stirring visions of angles on the wing
Many voices becoming and sustaining a single sound
A warm hand in a warm hand
Fingers entwined, a double helix of life
Sideways glances catching/sharing ocular light
Waves of sight and sound washing, cleansing souls
Sharing the air of breaths
What was carried in was sitting on benches
Worn shiny by decades of shifting bodies
But what is carried out in deep pockets
Of understanding
Makes all the difference
Each step away from the building
Echoing from the canyons of glass and steel
Voices raised to the joy in the world
Each register reaching notes on high
Pure human sounds transcending emotions
Tones stirring visions of angles on the wing
Many voices becoming and sustaining a single sound
A warm hand in a warm hand
Fingers entwined, a double helix of life
Sideways glances catching/sharing ocular light
Waves of sight and sound washing, cleansing souls
Sharing the air of breaths
What was carried in was sitting on benches
Worn shiny by decades of shifting bodies
But what is carried out in deep pockets
Of understanding
Makes all the difference
Each step away from the building
Echoing from the canyons of glass and steel
Saturday, December 8, 2007
How Can This Be A Christmas Song?
Rita
She stared at the phone in her hand
What her sister told her could not be true
She had her ticket to visit him
Hadn’t she just spoken to him two days ago
The phone held no answer
She was the youngest but always his favorite
She had only been away this first year
After taking the new job out of college
It was a good position writing copy
For a the local newspaper in Alabama
Now she would have to spend more time
With her sisters and her mother
It would be a hard visit
Merry Christmas
Penelope
Suzie was there looking at old photos
It didn’t help, but it was better than the funeral home
He always said he didn’t care so she didn’t understand
The fuss
She wished that he would have waited
Until after the holidays
This was not like him to call attention to himself
He was the dad, always there, but no one remembered him
Silently sitting on the bleachers watching the kids
He even made her fall tennis matches
Walking up, sitting by himself
Encouraging her later
She knew that Rita was his favorite, but ...
“More coffee, Suzie?”
Suzie
She hated being the oldest and having to always be
Responsible
She would deal with his papers
And if there was any will
She was sure that mother already had everything
His affairs were always scattered, at best
The call to Rita was the hardest
Telling Penny was difficult, but at least she had the old photos
He was always smiling or laughing
Always seeming so happy
He called her his little serious miss
The tears would come later, maybe
Why now is all everyone said
He seemed to be doing so well
No one knew what had happened, if it was anything that did
Rita had just kept catching her breath
There must have been something she missed
She should have known
And now she would have Rita at her house for the entire
Visit
She stared at the phone in her hand
What her sister told her could not be true
She had her ticket to visit him
Hadn’t she just spoken to him two days ago
The phone held no answer
She was the youngest but always his favorite
She had only been away this first year
After taking the new job out of college
It was a good position writing copy
For a the local newspaper in Alabama
Now she would have to spend more time
With her sisters and her mother
It would be a hard visit
Merry Christmas
Penelope
Suzie was there looking at old photos
It didn’t help, but it was better than the funeral home
He always said he didn’t care so she didn’t understand
The fuss
She wished that he would have waited
Until after the holidays
This was not like him to call attention to himself
He was the dad, always there, but no one remembered him
Silently sitting on the bleachers watching the kids
He even made her fall tennis matches
Walking up, sitting by himself
Encouraging her later
She knew that Rita was his favorite, but ...
“More coffee, Suzie?”
Suzie
She hated being the oldest and having to always be
Responsible
She would deal with his papers
And if there was any will
She was sure that mother already had everything
His affairs were always scattered, at best
The call to Rita was the hardest
Telling Penny was difficult, but at least she had the old photos
He was always smiling or laughing
Always seeming so happy
He called her his little serious miss
The tears would come later, maybe
Why now is all everyone said
He seemed to be doing so well
No one knew what had happened, if it was anything that did
Rita had just kept catching her breath
There must have been something she missed
She should have known
And now she would have Rita at her house for the entire
Visit
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
White Light
I open my eyes, the sky thick with stars
Light started on its way before there was
The rain had stopped at sunset
The history of our fire is just glowing embers
I’m warm and dry for the first time in days
Shaking off the last of deep sleep and dreams
I walk towards the stream for fresh water
Coffee would be nice
I feel a breeze behind me
The sounds from far away drifting among the trees
Light so bright it makes the space between my cells
Translucent
White light, not the yellow-red light of our sun
But the bright white from a growing exploding giant
Brilliant
There is no dark matter existing among the molecules
I have become totally engulfed joining what was me
Into what is it
The light is through me, in me, and from me
All at the same moment
Time is gone and meaningless
There is no distinction between
There is no definition, just
And then it’s gone
I’m not sure if it lasted a second or days
I look at my hands
I look at the line draw from the stream to the trees
Bend and cup my hands and take a deep drink
From the cool waters
The light from the stars are fading as the sky lightens
For day
Light started on its way before there was
The rain had stopped at sunset
The history of our fire is just glowing embers
I’m warm and dry for the first time in days
Shaking off the last of deep sleep and dreams
I walk towards the stream for fresh water
Coffee would be nice
I feel a breeze behind me
The sounds from far away drifting among the trees
Light so bright it makes the space between my cells
Translucent
White light, not the yellow-red light of our sun
But the bright white from a growing exploding giant
Brilliant
There is no dark matter existing among the molecules
I have become totally engulfed joining what was me
Into what is it
The light is through me, in me, and from me
All at the same moment
Time is gone and meaningless
There is no distinction between
There is no definition, just
And then it’s gone
I’m not sure if it lasted a second or days
I look at my hands
I look at the line draw from the stream to the trees
Bend and cup my hands and take a deep drink
From the cool waters
The light from the stars are fading as the sky lightens
For day
Friday, November 30, 2007
Abuse
Dullness sat behind those eyes
Where once there was a shine of delight in life
Rage rose behind the pitch in that voice
Hands were no longer the tapered fingers of a guitar player
But balled up fists
Black colors where once there had been rainbows
I would have left long ago
Flight or fight had been beaten out of me
The certainty of a hunt
A rabbit going to ground
The slaps, and punches, and pushes
Welts, smacks, black-eyes, burns, swollen cheeks, ...
Just always short of breaks
Solid objects on soft flesh
Dummy, stupid, ugly, fat, useless, whore, idiot, liar, ...
Words
Hot breath with scalding sounds
I put myself between those fists and our children
Tears only private in the daytime
Unspoken knowledge when I’m alone
The facade of doorways
And my own ineptitude
Wide-eyed deer eyes that someone would find out
Until the night I shot him
Where once there was a shine of delight in life
Rage rose behind the pitch in that voice
Hands were no longer the tapered fingers of a guitar player
But balled up fists
Black colors where once there had been rainbows
I would have left long ago
Flight or fight had been beaten out of me
The certainty of a hunt
A rabbit going to ground
The slaps, and punches, and pushes
Welts, smacks, black-eyes, burns, swollen cheeks, ...
Just always short of breaks
Solid objects on soft flesh
Dummy, stupid, ugly, fat, useless, whore, idiot, liar, ...
Words
Hot breath with scalding sounds
I put myself between those fists and our children
Tears only private in the daytime
Unspoken knowledge when I’m alone
The facade of doorways
And my own ineptitude
Wide-eyed deer eyes that someone would find out
Until the night I shot him
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Delicate, Strong, Enduring
She enters the room after the storm
Soft petals swirl in the wind with the smooth side down
A butterfly touches down on the flower
There is no weight, the petals do not move
It tastes the nectar, lightly
The flower faces the sun
Warming to the day that it has
The butterfly goes as it came
Almost un-noticed
The furnace heats the metal glowing hot
Huge monster munching jaws pound the near molten mettle
With each deafening sound the steel grows stronger
Until is cooling steel blue-gray sheen
Rolls out reaching a tensile strength
To become the skeleton for skyscrapers
That rock had shaped the flow of the river
But the river had shaped the rock
What was once just part of the river bed
Now stood an island in its stream
How long seemed forever in geolithic times
In a flash, these were the images in his mind
That shone from his eyes to her damp moist orbs
Delicate, strong, enduring,
He whispered his love you in her ears
And the storm would pass for now
Soft petals swirl in the wind with the smooth side down
A butterfly touches down on the flower
There is no weight, the petals do not move
It tastes the nectar, lightly
The flower faces the sun
Warming to the day that it has
The butterfly goes as it came
Almost un-noticed
The furnace heats the metal glowing hot
Huge monster munching jaws pound the near molten mettle
With each deafening sound the steel grows stronger
Until is cooling steel blue-gray sheen
Rolls out reaching a tensile strength
To become the skeleton for skyscrapers
That rock had shaped the flow of the river
But the river had shaped the rock
What was once just part of the river bed
Now stood an island in its stream
How long seemed forever in geolithic times
In a flash, these were the images in his mind
That shone from his eyes to her damp moist orbs
Delicate, strong, enduring,
He whispered his love you in her ears
And the storm would pass for now
Monday, November 26, 2007
Another Side of Epic (coda)
One story’s ending is another’s beginning
What tale there is, was told
But Cykles and old Moss, like the stranger, Death, knew
Life tolls no bell at its end
The rivulets that ran red soak into the ground
And one’s death does not define one’s life
It’s the living of it that does
No one but perhaps save Lord Kyryn believed that Mydaefandymn
Would leave now that the task was done
Old Moss shook his head as he turned to walk back
To his house in the tree
He had seen the future of suffering in the flames of the morning’s light
And smelled the burning flesh and wood
Cykles found the boy and hoped to change one mind
At a time
As was passed to him would he pass down
And hope for the best after
The lifeless lost their lovers, daughters and sons their fathers,
Wives their husbands, and parents their sons
Pride was not measured but the stains on the swords
The winner one day was food for the crows the next
But each day, each hour is all that we may have
What small precious stones that build upon each other?
What collections of mammal hair spun into our garments?
Choosing between red and white and black
We set the fabric on the loom and select the threads
This tale is done, the event is complete
The killings not stopped, nor our minds free from grief
Each of our clothes are stained and none a single color
It’s our next thread that counts
What tale there is, was told
But Cykles and old Moss, like the stranger, Death, knew
Life tolls no bell at its end
The rivulets that ran red soak into the ground
And one’s death does not define one’s life
It’s the living of it that does
No one but perhaps save Lord Kyryn believed that Mydaefandymn
Would leave now that the task was done
Old Moss shook his head as he turned to walk back
To his house in the tree
He had seen the future of suffering in the flames of the morning’s light
And smelled the burning flesh and wood
Cykles found the boy and hoped to change one mind
At a time
As was passed to him would he pass down
And hope for the best after
The lifeless lost their lovers, daughters and sons their fathers,
Wives their husbands, and parents their sons
Pride was not measured but the stains on the swords
The winner one day was food for the crows the next
But each day, each hour is all that we may have
What small precious stones that build upon each other?
What collections of mammal hair spun into our garments?
Choosing between red and white and black
We set the fabric on the loom and select the threads
This tale is done, the event is complete
The killings not stopped, nor our minds free from grief
Each of our clothes are stained and none a single color
It’s our next thread that counts
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Another Side of Epic (part 9)
They had forded the Forth
The ferrymen’s boats had been loaded to the gunnels
With men-at-arms
They took what they needed as they went along
The days were short of light and the weather remained cold and damp
The hore-frost had killed what was left afield
But meat for them remained plenty
Anything that was grazing ended as spit-roasted
Old Moss felt what was afoot and traveled the distance from
His tree to the hills above the coast
He hoped against his good sense to help Lord Kyryn
Keep his lands from forever famine of spirit
The boy was squire to King’s nephew Wyllse mac Googan
The flank commander
Googan had been a champion of the King’s father
He struck fear in opponents with his site and roar
Wyllse was known to drink from the skulls of his defeated
Capturing their spirits forever in his blood
This gave him the strength and endurance of many
His prowess with bow was swift and deadly
Mydaefandynm's numbers crested the coastal hills as the low sun
Peaked over the water
Halkoc and his sailors saw a double rise that cold life-less morning
They prepared
Mydaefandynm set his camp
I want many fires tonight, set one for each three men
Set their fears afire as well
All that short day preparations were made for the coming battle
Neither side would take ransoms
It would be till the end
Lord Kyryn’s men were held back
They were only to be used in pursuit not for the main event
That evening the fires raged as the harriers seethed
We go at just after the moon crests, we will catch them unawares
They wait until dawn, they’ll be souls by then
Three to a flame
The boy walked up to the fire of Wyllse to warm himself
Nasty business, huh boy?
Yes sire, they will be carrion by the dawn, the crows will eat well
Old Moss and a distant cloked stranger watched
As the stars did their dance in the night sky
And hills burned and came alive moving towards the coast
Mydaefandymn took the lead leaving the fires licking at the night
The advance men had slit the throats of any outlieing dragonship guards
When the village was surrounded, Mydaefandymn gave the yell
What battle there was, was over quickly
Almost all of the exchanges were one-sided
Aethelrodmyd cut a swath through men with a whistling sword
Sending heads flying to his left and right
He didn’t even need to change his charge from edge to edge
Wyllse met him on the sand with little but blood on his own person
There were no terms but death
Halkoc lost his life as he stood up to reach for his shield
There were no differences between sailors and farmers
All that stood were put to the blade
The ground ran red and was littered with head-less bodies
Short and board swords dripped
The ships were loaded, doused and set aflame
Now Mydaefandymn saw a double fire rise
Kyryn’s pleasure was not mirrored in the eyes of the two others who saw
The dual burnings
The only booty that Mydaefandymn choose were weapons, land, and tribute
Kyryn could keep the grain, his people would be fed
The ferrymen’s boats had been loaded to the gunnels
With men-at-arms
They took what they needed as they went along
The days were short of light and the weather remained cold and damp
The hore-frost had killed what was left afield
But meat for them remained plenty
Anything that was grazing ended as spit-roasted
Old Moss felt what was afoot and traveled the distance from
His tree to the hills above the coast
He hoped against his good sense to help Lord Kyryn
Keep his lands from forever famine of spirit
The boy was squire to King’s nephew Wyllse mac Googan
The flank commander
Googan had been a champion of the King’s father
He struck fear in opponents with his site and roar
Wyllse was known to drink from the skulls of his defeated
Capturing their spirits forever in his blood
This gave him the strength and endurance of many
His prowess with bow was swift and deadly
Mydaefandynm's numbers crested the coastal hills as the low sun
Peaked over the water
Halkoc and his sailors saw a double rise that cold life-less morning
They prepared
Mydaefandynm set his camp
I want many fires tonight, set one for each three men
Set their fears afire as well
All that short day preparations were made for the coming battle
Neither side would take ransoms
It would be till the end
Lord Kyryn’s men were held back
They were only to be used in pursuit not for the main event
That evening the fires raged as the harriers seethed
We go at just after the moon crests, we will catch them unawares
They wait until dawn, they’ll be souls by then
Three to a flame
The boy walked up to the fire of Wyllse to warm himself
Nasty business, huh boy?
Yes sire, they will be carrion by the dawn, the crows will eat well
Old Moss and a distant cloked stranger watched
As the stars did their dance in the night sky
And hills burned and came alive moving towards the coast
Mydaefandymn took the lead leaving the fires licking at the night
The advance men had slit the throats of any outlieing dragonship guards
When the village was surrounded, Mydaefandymn gave the yell
What battle there was, was over quickly
Almost all of the exchanges were one-sided
Aethelrodmyd cut a swath through men with a whistling sword
Sending heads flying to his left and right
He didn’t even need to change his charge from edge to edge
Wyllse met him on the sand with little but blood on his own person
There were no terms but death
Halkoc lost his life as he stood up to reach for his shield
There were no differences between sailors and farmers
All that stood were put to the blade
The ground ran red and was littered with head-less bodies
Short and board swords dripped
The ships were loaded, doused and set aflame
Now Mydaefandymn saw a double fire rise
Kyryn’s pleasure was not mirrored in the eyes of the two others who saw
The dual burnings
The only booty that Mydaefandymn choose were weapons, land, and tribute
Kyryn could keep the grain, his people would be fed
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Another Side of Epic (part 8)
Aethelrodmyd sat as the man wearing cloth spoke
He'd done his deed dealing with traitors whose heads
Had rolled to the wall
Words had no meaning and he eat his meat
Smashing the glowing rock into pieces was a trick
He could do it with his sword
The only skills were with dirk, axe, bow, sword, and targe
Cykles entered into the low smoky light
Holding his hand open
As you would for a dog to smell so that they knew you
Were friendly
He never felt the weight of the air
Each of you are a shard or stand in the twine of the rope
Together you are as strong as a pull
You can create the good for all
Build and hold the fabric of life to grow
Teach and instruct the young, instill with great deeds
End your killing and turn that energy into light
As I’ve given each of you the crystal
He streached out his arms and the stones began to glow
The harriers held their tongues until he finished
They began low, and then howled with laughter
We are not schoolers, we are warriors
Mydaefandynm's few words told all
The men pounded the table with delight in this sport
The future of the ground beneath their feet would not grow green
But red
Cykles knew that the twin stairs leading down into the dark depths of madness
Were memories and regrets
This night would not shine with knowledge
He walked out through the door he had entered
Into the murky darkness
He'd done his deed dealing with traitors whose heads
Had rolled to the wall
Words had no meaning and he eat his meat
Smashing the glowing rock into pieces was a trick
He could do it with his sword
The only skills were with dirk, axe, bow, sword, and targe
Cykles entered into the low smoky light
Holding his hand open
As you would for a dog to smell so that they knew you
Were friendly
He never felt the weight of the air
Each of you are a shard or stand in the twine of the rope
Together you are as strong as a pull
You can create the good for all
Build and hold the fabric of life to grow
Teach and instruct the young, instill with great deeds
End your killing and turn that energy into light
As I’ve given each of you the crystal
He streached out his arms and the stones began to glow
The harriers held their tongues until he finished
They began low, and then howled with laughter
We are not schoolers, we are warriors
Mydaefandynm's few words told all
The men pounded the table with delight in this sport
The future of the ground beneath their feet would not grow green
But red
Cykles knew that the twin stairs leading down into the dark depths of madness
Were memories and regrets
This night would not shine with knowledge
He walked out through the door he had entered
Into the murky darkness
Monday, November 19, 2007
Hi All
Well, I guess this is the new home... After I accomplish a few other things, I will take up the mantle again and post my finished "Another Side of Epic". Thanks for putting this one together Shirley. You're always trying to provide the rest of us a great place to be.
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