Some Sunday Evening

let me hold you and I will be happy for awhile. lets have our hands on each other like two people in love tonight. Can you yield to me when I kiss you? Can you be just mine and put aside your doubts if only tonight? Can we be free together late in the evening. Will you still hold me after we have filled our hearts til their breaking. Will you look at me long and not throw up a wall with you legs balled up between us. Will you fall asleep with your arms wrapped around me forgetting your fears as you come to rest?

One of my turns

Im going to say this as honest and simply as possible. Im not ok. I feel like I need someone to just say "I care about you. I'll come if you need me." Believe me I need you now, whoever you are. I feel like my failures are a burden to my family, I feel like even saying somethings fucked up here hurts them. Like Jim is having one of his turns again. heading home contemplating the silent freeway it gets worse, driving by a hundred rejections. When i get home its great with my wife and my girl, til it gets later and these feelings creep back in my head. Then i feel guilty even when they look at me, like I've been letting them down all their lives.

Why are you running away?

wrapped up in powdered wool

Honestly I feel like an island now, I am reaching out desperately at times and I don’t think people get it. It’s like I am speaking in a language no one gets. They recognize me and say hi the just hear me and look confused as they pass along. I’m passing along little coded messages that it’s not alright. I thought they might have the keys to decode what I am saying, after knowing me. I guess I have kept something back for so long that I cant throw open the doors when i'm in need. Too scared to be in everyones attention when i say "help me". Maybe its hubris i just dont want to be weak; but it seems like i have been telling everyone just how weak I am my whole life. Pan Pan,test for echo

Crescent star Rock score card 4

Watched by empty silhouettes.....peter gabriel...line from solsbury hill

cracklin' Rose ...Neal diamond..Song title

stargazer...Rainbow...Song from feel the rainbow i think

Peach Blossom and Bitter almond...Genesis... line from the broadway melody of 1974

chloe Dancer/ Crown of thorns ...Mother Love Bone....Song

Stranded starfish have no place to hide...Peter Gabriel...Line from The Flood

Men of station...Some Anticon project...Song title

Where the hell ive ended up on this glary random day...Ben Folds Five... line from evaporated

Disciples of the Watch....Testament...Song title

Cities in the Dust....Souixe and banshees maybe...song title

I believe when i fall in love with you it will last forever...Stevie wonder...song title

I believe when i fall in love with you it will last forever

I guess the need to write is welling up again. Strange how it comes and goes almost like an addiction, burning until you give in and then gone for a time. I almost beat it this time, but here I am timidly tapping out sentences. Maybe I am throwing myself in with all the passion of a new love, or one long lusted for that finally takes one slip.

I am going to do this and try to be as open as I can. Throw up some of the stuff I have long held back, not knowing where to put them. Scared they may be mocked.

Yell and prod me if more doesnt come along soon, I need as much pushing as I can get.

employed again

Hi folks

Well i am working again at Obopay. Go check it out

on a sudden storm

where once the sky broke bright now i only see claws and crows moving fast. Running with flags and ribbons herald dark the weather rushing upon the unsuspecting town. Bruised and Burn down the far off hills until it hold most of the sky it whispers words few are not scared to speak. Bringing a still that drives wings from the sky where they shudder and flop against a ground now dark. Birds scream and thrash calling forgiveness at airs that have rejected them. At last against sheltering glass comes the rain that drowns the day

On the traditional celebration of Leif Erikson's day

on the traditional celebration of Erikson's day.


The ninth of October the blackest day, for it is Erikson's day. Few hold the old ways but I speak them unto you. We wake to clean and brush out teeth as cleanliness has long been valued by the Nordic people. We hunger and so eat the tradition viking breakfast of Muslix harvest fruit, served cold in remembrance of the fjords. Again we brush our teeth, as stated above the Scandinavians are a very clean people. To finish our morning we dress. When choosing clothing denim and leather are especially esteemed fabrics, wrist guards or full leather bracers are considered core component of ones outfit. A broad sword or battle axe is the traditional compliment to ones outfit.

When performing ones duties during the day do not hesitate, mince or use caution; but be assured of yourself. Cut with a single stalwart chop. Take time to ponder the sea, gaze longingly upon it if you live near a port city. Fill your desires with excess and live this day to the full. Give but do not take, pay only with cash, coin or gold. Do not further or debts and pay them down if you can.


For the Norwegians and Swedes long connection to heavy metal, listen only to death or doom metal. Danes may consider listening to their kinsman King Diamond. Beat up your English friends a little unless they "God save us from the fury of the northmen!" Then buy them a mead. Give crude gestures to your local Columbus Day parade. At home decorated with two ravens placed by your door, not one not three not more. Cut ones hand and mark your door and windows with bloody runes. Burn a fish in offering to Thor. End the night in a drunken stupor after a metal show and call in sick the next morning.

These are the rites of Leif Erikson's day.

Aloysius Alone

It seemed night or near in the clouds and smoke to aloyisus perched above the city. lungs filled and failed; his watch wide eyed on flames wholey amazed. Soot encrusting his vision he wondered back to where it all start.

Some where long from friends aloyisus awoke on the road with little but himself. Full or fat he didnt need so he walked. In trackless seas of golden grasslands he strode or limped on tirelessly til night. Amid sunsets and now buzzing city lights Aloyisus watched Nicene's path ribbon through streets made perfect in her wake. Some days he would wander them for hours hoping; eyes gleamed full in melancholy on streets he dreamed she touched. Here held high watching ribbons slowly dissappear and the sublime sink into the real. If hours or weeks I could not say but Aloyisus beheld sorrow.

In these days Anglac was not found and even Haddibaugh lost, they would be about with time, but now Aloyisus alone. Nicene unseen he pitied and hated the city. Longing turned leaving again he was set to his feet. Down with the speed only weight pulls he stomped and galloped and ran until he was in the city and anonymus. Then just a shadow the people didnt want to see, he wandered til he found the creeks. Sunk low ebb and flow these veins of the city carried winter waters to a muddy sea but burnt dry they harbored Aloyisus and carried him on. Across his valley in meer breaths he stopped moments to set free things he loved and close up his home. Few things kept and again set upon the road.

R.I.P.E.G.G.

Now stop and remember and dream;
far from cynicism when you were young .
Who told us with wide wonder
The stories of the age?

Lives stronger, kinder, better,
you lived long nights bold
In tales a master weaving
That held off your own needing

Tomes now are silent
That once kindled all delight
Mourn with me old joys passing
and a masters passing light

In your age was he forsaken?
Mocked with selfward spite.
Now you wear sardonic guises
ill fit that always hang like a lie

Slip off this veil; return my friend to me
Drink in joy, foolishness and sorrow
Hold the old master up with honor
Relive again lives he taught us to dream

A Piebald Horse

Ribbons red, blue and gold sewn and wove through the mane of Anglac's courtiers steed. Here all slender and grace mulled in winter morning still fragile. Aloysius upon a piebald horse matted and awash with mud followed. These times little they spoke, each reading and read the other as if brothers. On pestilent vales this went hours into hours til eastward hills were well in sight. Southward on climbs that oversaw a smokey city watching with some scorn. Amid orchards the manors held by Aloysius family waited them and many more.

Grey and cold wanders in and unsure night somehow fleeting and uncommitted to the land. But with hours lamps are lite and strung in leaf barren trees. A wind would wash up driving branches like a fist shaking in the air. And the two road mindless of gales rattling windows on well wooded streets past in wordless hours. Anglac's hair wild rushed with the gusts and lashed, where it was always in place. Aloyisius's a mild mess as always smiled headlong into the weather. Now it would not be long.

Cities in the Dust

Some hours finally left me alone;not the unwished solitude so easy these latter hours that saw my city yeild to duty, but removed and unweighted by the day. Long from the sun perception came before judgement brotherhood born before strife. Light seemed limited yet broke hard on empty seats. measuring out my missing companion in longing and leaving afterglow in green and grieving. Irrigation hissed alive in streets where night insects chanted diabolic hymms. This seems where I begin unaligned from lies and compromise monolithic of the waking day

Disciples of the Watch

Recently I have decided to become an fraternal order such as the elk. Not that have actually signed up or even know how I would go about joining. So if a random stranger asks I may consider it; I guess is the take away point here.

Perhaps you are wondering why an antisocial loner such as myself would be interested in the elks or moose. The answer my friend is gaming space. Lodges are closing left and right due to lack of attendance, that means loads of open space going to waste. Once I join and indoctrinate my fellow gamers we will own the place. All we need is a couple of back rooms and we would happily pay dues to be left alone. We already have our own conventions and more than a few funny hats.

Those sceptical will perhaps need more proof of concept. Some years back the Conquest convention was held at Ricky's Hyatt with annex space coming from the Elks Lodge. Several of my gaming cohorts mentioned how comfortable the space felt. One mentioned clubs and bars being difficult for him, but the classic rock, cigarettes and cheap beer just working for him. Also us tea totallers may feel less out of place when the focus isn't 100% on drinking.

This need not be limited to the elk, moose or eagles. A masonic temple or the Ordo Temple Orientalis may work better considering the esoteric nature of most role playing games.

Well this is all a delusion of my kidney medicine probably, yes yes thats right i should be working that's right
;

Where the hell ive ended up on this glary random day

Some hours late in the day found myself wandering unhappily through how i spent my time. Again it's as though i waste the time i mean to put on my intentions. And afterwords have little to show with even less pride. Here well after I'm drawing dead against reshaping the day. Wondering what Heroines would think of those that take them for muse. Watching eyes dreaming as they may, wondering how much is seen.

Men of Station

Rain is tearing the rest of the evening to shreds while we are watching from the window on the second floor Hiding from eyes in a room we mostly forget set with awe as the grey spills across walls and chokes us with cold Faces burnt on thoughts of possibilities lost Unity in sorrow becoming singular again each walled form each other leave the nursery

stranded starfish have no place to hide

these days seem to be reapped in with long grass from the hill side Turned over in my mind and trailing behind Falling like grain through my fingers with little matter how hard i grasp But this is all allusion struggling with words to say im hurt And I feel words are mute with the distance that you are not When its only you and me Im wishing for what we used to be

Chloe Dancer / Crown of Thorns

Ah what the heck was that. It seems i have been neglecting my writing for too long. All that comes out is weak sauce indeed. Whats with all the alliteration i start with? Is that my style or a bad habit I have fallen into?

Mid sentence rhyming! Hardly Complex! Meter is non existent in my work but this truly throws it out the door.

I am talking about something has surfaced time and again in my mind. Some past summer day in a park above my house, Santa Teresa. It is changed and reworked in memory and light floods in making it all hard to see. At least this is what is going on in my head. And I am working through thoughts of time spend at this place even before the memory. Working out that even in the memory it has changed and is not the place i am looking for. That is what i am trying and failing at capturing. Seems like its been floating in me for ages and I cant get it out.

Perhaps i will work with the "of the unknown" idea in the future. What is going on with that is recollection of a series of dreams I have. The seem linked by a common thread of time and mutable yet congruent dream scape. Also hidden in the dream idea i can work through certain darker ideas I struggle with.

Well that is it for now. Drop a reply if you get a chance, i wonder who sees this crap.

;

Peach Blossom and Bitter Almond

Through all this light i can barely see whats moving through the trees. Its warm dull and sweet in the moments seeming unfitfully long as if druged with peach blossom and bitter Almond. Eyes close to rest devouring towers in the west, thou wide again. Aware days grown thin. Gone are ghosts i can't divine, i'll leave with specters only mine.

stargazer

Howdy folks

Since its been so long, I guess I will talk about where I am at. I feel like i am on a decent path right now and I am sticking with it. I am not really down on myself, but not contented either. I am impatient with taking it day by day; and want to rush to see the end of this road. But progess isn't with the planning but execution.

So what I am doing these days is

excercise (weights and cardio)
Reading my books (leibniz almost beat, then Heidigger)
working on the dark parts of my life to let in light
messing with my game stuff (atari)
playing around on the bass
Going to some concerts
working on some game stuff

I am thinking about having a movie sometime, but who know who would come when its one of my movies.

Maybe a game weekend around the 21st of April. Denise is gone then. Have some Catan or something like that.

Well thats it for now
;

Cracklin' Rose

Well where have I been? Nowhere consiquential.

As this is about work and not so much accounts of my life I haven't had much to say. I dont know where inspiration is going but i am not finding it.

I have been removed from the yearning that takes me to the places i write about. I could say its isolation, but perhaps its just feeling the pieces do not fit. Maybe that i am lying to choose the mantles I wear. To say your living a lie you have to pretend yourself defined. Right now I couldn't dream to say I identify with A or B. For the moment I am the mass, or at that i'll play. Empty myself and fill again with contentment.