Phoenix Beacon

Kingdom Come For Me

2007-05-15T23:09:00.000-04:00

Is it the spring in your step when you’re running up the hill and you turn the corner?
Is it the warmth of the fire; safe from the thundering blizzards of outside?
Is it that cool caress to show you that you are not alone?
Is it the sound of an organ and choir?
Is it the sound of your knees dropping to the ground in contrition?
Is it found in her eyes?
Does anybody really ever find it?
Or is it elusive, Arthur’s grail; Prometheus’s wings?
Do we find it, or does it find us?.
Is this
Home?
I think not.
Home is contentment.
Home is feet up by a trickling pool.
Home is flowing poems.
Home is a girl sleeping on your pillow; content.
Home is the pitter-patter of ikkle feet and: “Daddy, Can you read to us?”.
Home is knowing where you stand.
Home is a beautiful woman at your side; feeling blessed to be there
Home is not her.
Home is not here.
Home is a promised land.
Home has meaning.
Home misses you when you’re not there.
Home is the puppy dog lapping at your heels.
Home is gentle rain dripping your anguish away.
Home is the round table.
Home is a strong maiden who loves you even when your shining armor rusts. Home is never a closed door
Home is always an open door.
Home is the chance worth taking.
Home is not here.
Home is cookies and milk after an arduous journey.
Home is the end of the journey.
And we’re at the beginning.
Home is not a place.
Home is an idea.
Home is an ideal.
Home is hope that one day we’ll find...

Home.

God

2007-04-01T15:08:00.000-04:00

So you tell me that you don’t
Believe
You can’t
Accept

He seems to you a distant
Fable
Somebody far away
Somebody who doesn’t care
If he even exists

You try to tell me
You try to tell yourself
That the world is too
Chaotic
Atomic

Plutonic

For a God I
Believe in

Well, I can’t tell you
What to think
But I can
Show you why
I believe

God is the breeze at our back
The rustle of the leaves
The world spinning
Turning
Changing
He is the breath of fresh air
The reason why men wave flags
Why they tear them down

God is in the pen
The leader signs with
Even if he is wrong

He is the intersection
When we have to choose a path
He is the feeling we get when we eat
Mint choc chip ice cream
Yea, even the brain freeze of ecstasy

He is with us in the company of good friends
And mortal enemies
Especially when we are facing
Demons

God is in the eye of the man who has lost
Everything
And who still goes on

He is the muse
Which comes to poets
As they dream

He is the God who sent winds
Into a young man’s cave
Which stopped his world
Spinning
And set his feet upon
The rock

God is the smell of
Toast rising up the stairs
Sweet lavenders
Hugs and kisses
A sea out the window
Children scampering

Wild
Glee
Free

He is in the musician as he plays his
Heart out
On stage

God is with the audience
As they are inspired
By the bardic crier

God is in the writer’s book
His thick ink and weaving scripts
In his characters
In his dreams as he sleeps

God is in the reader
Nudging them to move
To grow
To conquer their menacing foe

God was with the mother
Who prayed for her son
Wondering why
Sometimes it made her cry

God was with the boy
Who prayed for his sick brother
And was still with him
When the little one wasn’t healed

And whose still with him
Far away from home
Yet still with the same
Sweet spirit

God is with all those
Who pray for the sick
Even if they aren’t
Healed

God is with the teenager
Even if he’s mad with the way he is
Why he’s different
Why some won’t accept him
None understand him
And some fear him

God was with him again
As he revealed himself
Like a train
Slamming on all four sides

God is with the man
Who can’t walk
Yet announces
I am
Healed!

God is in the manic laugh
Of the one who realizes
He’s been wrong all these years
And it really was that simple
Changing his ways
Forever after

God is with the girl sitting by the window
With those who sob because of the confusion
Because of their delusion
Their illusion

God is with the woman
Who runs like the wind
Because her friend can’t

God is change

A man screams:
“Where have my brothers?”
God is in the embrace, which tells him
“Here are your brothers.”

God is realizing you were wrong
Knowing that you judged someone
He is there when that someone
Appears
At the times when they are needed most

God is the hand
Which slaps your face
Playfully
You see, God has a sense of humor

Showing us the true
Nature
Of
Love

“God is dead” – Nietzsche
Is written on the chalkboard
“Nietzsche is dead” – God
Written below

A faint undercurrent
Of resistance
Persistence
Insistence

He is
Resolute
In Entropy

Because there is really no
Entropy
Just
Faith
Lost and found

So you can tell me
There is no God
That even if he did exist
He is a sadist

Yet I know the truth
My God is everywhere
And you can’t say
Otherwise

And if you try to

I’ll still love you

That is God.

Lone Poem

2007-03-20T21:30:00.001-04:00

It’s a place you come to,
When you’re all alone,
Staring into the spaces of darkest hue,
Listening to voices’ desperate tone,

Just you and your thoughts,
Nothing to come between,
And your heart screams at a thousand watts,
You’re far away from all that you dream,

As you write with a consuming fire,
Your pen scratches paper,
Your patience long ago began to tire,
Your excuses finally taper,

Until there’s nothing more,
And you just write out the rest,
Leaving your core,
Gazing for hope alighting from the west,

Yet it never begins on the outside,
You have to breathe life,
Old wounds gaping open wide,
Fear of truth cutting like a knife,

The bare essence of being,
The nakedness of existence,
The blindness; which comes with seeing,
The battle with internal resistance,

Forces inside unwilling to change,
Fighting for a feeble cause,
The new way is frightening; strange,
Learning a new set of strictures and laws,

Finding your way back,
To who you should be,
Content with that which you lack,
Yearning to forever be free,

It’s a place we’ve never been,
Only thought of; not felt,
Searching for fields of green,
Beyond this bleeding belt....

Enough

2007-03-20T20:21:00.001-04:00

All men have desire
All men have passion
But what do they want; what is their inspire?
What is it that makes them glow in such carnal fashion?

We are creatures base
We all want something we can’t attain
That which is just beyond our taste
As we keep on through the shrouded rain

But what if we stopped to suddenly ponder
What is it that we yearn?
What makes us through this barren world wander?
What is it, which causes our stomachs, our hearts, our very souls burn?

Why do we for so long blindly flail?
Why is it that we search for some kind of confirmation?
Of who we are and the reasons we let our warships set sail?
What is this foul demon that keeps man from his elation?

Perhaps it isn’t even demon or Satan spawn
Perhaps it truly is only he
Wrestling with himself despite the dawn
Keeping him from everything his God wants him to be

Even when he sees the truth,
He still finds a place in his heart where he is discontent
A place that is ruled by carnal claw and tooth,
He does the only thing he can: he kneels to repent

So here he is; humbly wrong
He knows he’s been wayward
But he needs you to help him be strong
For he knows his thoughts are as fleeting as a bird

He wants to come back to the fold
And feel your loving embrace
Because out they’re the world is heartless and cold
Jesus; I’m begging you; show me some of your amazing grace.

Long Time No Post

2007-03-18T12:10:00.000-04:00

To those who are reading this
Or not :)

Since I have not posted in the longest
I'm gonna put up some poetry that I've written in the past few months.
Read em
Like em
If not
I don't want to know :)

May post later tonight
About entropy and such

Blessings be upon thee
Me

Un Penned Inc.

Forever
Staring at the blank page
Wondering if they’ll accept it

Forever
Fear haunting from the back
Mindful of the nameless

Forever
Searching for “home”
Falling short

Forever
Daised and confused
Soaking up the entropy

In ecstasy

With a stumble
A Fumble
A Tumble
And often a Grumble

Feeling the shudder of Earth
Truly
For the first time
Its massive bulk rotating
Reassuringly enormous under
Foot
Wheel
Whatever

So perhaps there is no

Forever

And perhaps there’s just

Tomorrow

A blank page...

Bent

The machine burns
It’s not satisfied
The machine always wants more
More will never be enough

We are products of the machine
Always searching
Never finding

Yet we seem content
With who the machine
Says we are
And who we should be
And whom we should associate with

We can sit here and lie to ourselves
About who we are
And why we are here
Yet all that ends up producing
Is broken people
Staring at themselves from both sides of every mirror

Dust in the wind
At the end of all things
Tossed about by the storm

By the songs, by the books and papers
By the “sages”, by the politicians,
By those we trust, and those we don’t

Because we’re all so vulnerable
Yearning for even the smallest scrap
Of control over our own domains
“Sad little kings
On sad little hills”

The more we know
The less we know

That’s the beauty of things
That something can come from nothing
Hope amidst chaos

Hope that nouns can “morph” into verbs
That ideas
And ideals
Would turn into action
That people; like you and I, would actually act on
What they claim to believe in

All we can do is hope
Maybe you say that I’m naiive
But I don’t think hope is
Irrelevant

And it doesn’t have to be deep
Because we don’t care if the machine
Thinks it’s not
Thinks we’re not

It doesn’t have to be deep
It’s hope

Instead of chains
Hope brings us
Wings...

Summit of Divide

Reclinin’,
I see the world around me dyin’,
There seems to be no silver linin’,
Urban sirens don’t stop cryin’,
Terrors of my generation’s authority defyin’,

Misunderstandin’
Name brandin’
Leads to gun handlin’,

There is no respect,
Black poetry fraught with angry words that inflect
Which some o’ my people say, “infect”
Rages of the poet: a defect,
How their daddies used to neglect,
So I flip on a track when I feel down; out; decked,
In essence; a testosterone inject

Yet I’m white,
I grew up in a town exclusively light,
Blacks kept virtually out of sight,
Who are really seen as everything that isn’t right,
No matter what my teachers’ try to tell me about Dr. King’s height,
I know Blacks here would get...do get...the brunt of Mr. Cold Shoulder’s bite,
Even with ghettos around in ten minute’s flight,
I feel unaware of the dark man’s plight,

So, should I be listening to his song?
Plugged into his tribulations all day strong,
Cuz my dad’s paycheck is more than five zeros long,
So if I’m a product of the suburbs
And I cry because of my trials
Does that make me wrong?

I’ve never even seen an ounce of crack,
Memories of a shootout I indeed lack
No parent’s bags I’ve seen packed,
I’ve never had to look behind my back,

But maybe I do everyday,
But it’s not because of bullets but what people say,
Despite all the times I kneel and pray,
There’s people I see pay,
For this country’s great dividing way,
I see them caught between two worlds, which hold sway,
Trying to be white; trying to be black, and all they can see is gray,

Well Uncle Sam, all I can
Think
No
All I can
Know
That this is all

Unfair,
I watch each side’s hateful glare,
It’s like every other conflicting pair,
So I listen to the rappers and hip-hoppers infuriated ware,
I know I will never breathe a black man’s air,
Or be able to know why he watches those that reject him with such an intense stare,

It makes me cry every time I hear his native people sing,
It also makes me cry when I realize the only real thing,
I know about Africa is what I saw in the Lion King,

I know how it feels to be different too though,
I too know what it means to be low,
Locked in prison with nowhere to go,
I know how it feels to rhyme as I feel a warm internal eternal glow,
A glow, which keeps me awake at night like Tupac or even Poe,
I yearn to inspire; awaken the average Joe,
So that he would know,
No longer be so slow,
As he reads along my flow,
Understanding why I put on this show,
For them and me it’s not about the dough,

It’s about
Recognition
Of our trials; our position,
So when we put our pen to paper; our key to the ignition,
We know that this isn’t a competition,

We both,
Have seen the Promised Land,
And are a part of a fellowship of poets holding their brothers by the hand,
We’re not quite running our fingers through God’s golden sand,

Yet we have
Hope and Faith
That we will say

“I have been to the mountaintop”
Yet even before we are there
We are already
As the song says

“Free at last
Free at last
Thank God Almighty
We are Free at last!”

Every man has his quest,
I see that each side will not rest,
But all we seem to want to know is who’s the best,
I know this is just a trial, God’s test,

We shall all overcome
Forever climbing the mountain’s crest...

Silverback Spines

2007-01-18T22:15:00.000-05:00

Failed, yet Bailed

Monkeys on my back,
Needed to be thrown,
Like demons; they try to tell me what I lack,
Yet they have no right to talk to me in that tone,
For I am the Lord’s child,
I am protected, albeit by a tainted anointment,
Eventually I crack if they have enough piled,
Yet if something comes up; I’ll change my scheduled appointment,
As the snow fell,
I could feel the big chip embedded in my shoulder,
That monkey hurt so much I had to start ringing the bell,
I exhaled a deep breathe of chained smoke and a weight lifts off me by the boulder,
Something I had to prove,
Doesn’t matter who or what for,
I had to write something; whether it deserves to be in the Louvre,
So I wrote my own truth; a piece o my Lore,,
And it may not be perfect yet,
But at least I’ve won a certain battle,
I see those demons around me beginning to fret,
For every time I pray, hope, or love is a closer moment to their death rattle,
Yea, that’s right, I’m finally beginning to understand the true meaning of love,
Even if I completely miss the point at times,
My inspiration; my reason; my hope; comes from above,
How else could I write all this prose and jot all these rhymes?
I’m letting go of this world,
Or at least attempting to take a pass,
Though around some things my heart is still tightly curled,
But with Abba on my side, how long do you think that’ll last?
So today I vanquished a small foe,
Who knows what tomorrow shall bring,
Every day is a chance for my spirit to grow,
For the language of God I’m still learning to sing...

Jacob’s Ladder

Passage
He gripped her hand in his, though he knew that she was slipping into eternity. He tried to smile, but all he could manage was a slight upturn of his lips. Tears fell steadily from his face, impacting the bed sheets and quickly disappearing within them. He could feel the warmth ebbing from her fingers, so he gripped them more tightly, as if his life force would keep hers from departing.
Fiera’s piercing green eyes looked up into his, smiling as though she knew something that he did not.
“Jacob, you know there’s no use crying. Hell, you know better than anyone, I’d like to live, but this isn’t so bad. I need you to take care of Fian when I’m gone. I promised him I would take him to the Verge, and see if those rumors about Starvyrns are true.” Jacob tried to chortle, and instead choked in his tears, spluttering to get a hold of himself.
“I will, I promise, but it shouldn’t be like this.... it shouldn’t end like this. This is not supposed to happen, not to you. I’ve prayed, I’ve prayed! You’re supposed to be healed!” he seethed.
“You’re probably right. Nothing should be like it is. I should never have been born, I should never have met you, but I did. And I am blessed for it. My life hasn’t been perfect, but because of Fian and you, I’ve known love, I’ve known peace.” she said, her vibrant red hair shining with the sunlight that was spilling through the small hospice window.
“What good is love when it can’t save you? What good am I, when I can’t save you? Why can’t there be a miracle?”
“Jacob! This is not your fault. Don’t keep blaming yourself. There’s nothing you could have done.” she said, in the most authoritative tone her now frail body could muster.
“Yes there was, I could have prayed more. I could have had more faith. I could of-“
“You know better than I do, Jacob Tren, that miracles do not work like that. They occur if they will and they won’t if they shan’t. I don’t know why God let this happen to me, but it did. And it wasn’t your fault. It was nobody’s fault!”
At this, the young woman began to cough violently. Her whole frame rocked the bed back and forth several times. Jacob reached for the glass of water by her bedside, tenderly tipping it into her parched mouth.
“You shouldn’t strain yourself like that, Fiera. The doctors say that every time you do the Crystal Blaze that’s already in your body multiplies. You should rest-“ he was cut off in mid sentence by Fiera’s curt sigh.
“There is no time left to rest, bring Fian in.” She picked up the ancient Old Earth bible that was on her bedside table and handed it to the slightly older man.
“Never lose that.” she said emphatically, a glint in her eye drove a crescendo of peace that momentarily transcended all his feelings of guilt and loss. It was a look of love that traveled beyond all romance, all siblinghood, and all friendship. It was a look that Jacob Tren would keep close to his heart for the rest of his life.
Jacob could feel the sobs trembling up to the surface of his visage. Before he could say goodbye, he had slammed the door behind him. Tears flowed down his bearded cheeks, as he fell to the floor, clutching his Bible. He knew that was the last time he would ever see her; at least in this life.
Loss
Cold walls on all sides. Jacob woke with a fright, a frosty sweat beading down his numb body. Switching on the dim electric light above his bunk, his eyes swiveled around the room. He was used to star flight, so his eyes adjusted automatically to the abrupt light. His eyes rested momentarily on the bible wedged between the uneven floor plating of the Starblazer. He quickly turned away from the sight. He did not need that memory coming back again.
The man rose from his bed shakily, donning his usual white vest and leather jacket, which he had left lying on the floor the previous night. He picked up an aged wooden cross necklace Fiera had given him years ago. The strap was severed, and the cross was slightly battered. As if it pained him to look upon it, Jacob cursed bitterly, and stuffed it into his tattered jeans’ back pocket.
The door to his room whisked open, and the youthful Fian Fincook appeared before him. His freckled face and red hair shone brilliantly in the Solitaire’s lighting. Magnificently vivid blue eyes blinked, as he smiled exuberantly. Bedecked in the finest of satins that seemed to flow from his slender form like a waterfall, the youth of less than twenty years spoke.
“Jacob- we’ve just passed Thor, last planet before the Verge. It’s been three months I’ve waited for this- and we could be seeing Starvyrns in the next several hours.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, kid. We don’t even know if these things exist, let alone if we will be able to see one with all the space debris floating around here. You know how your sister was with all her fantastic stories, she always had her head in the clouds back home on Olympus.”
“That’s why you love her.” said the boy tentatively, his eyes glistening with tears that had been forthcoming as of late. Tren stopped for a split second, and looked straight at his friend, almost daring not to breath, holding the moment for as long as he could. His eyes darted away eventually. The memories were all too real.
“Yea,” he settled on “that’s why I love her...loved her.” Jacob said with finality.
“I’ll be on the bridge if you want to join me for the last few moments of our journey.” Fian changed the subject, not wishing to rub any more sore wounds regarding his sister for Jacob.
“I’d like that very much. I’ll meet you there in a few.” Fian’s boots clattered along the star traveling vessel, filling the Solitaire with a sound strangely reminiscent to that of church bells.
Jacob bent down to strap his boots around his calloused feet. He passed through the door and along the shaft-like hallway that connected his room with the bridge. The door to the bridge lay before him; its steel face seemed harsh and unmerciful. Even though he was twenty-five, Jacob felt a stab of fear enter his being. He had no idea what lay beyond that door. He fervently wished that Fiera’s myth would not lead to false hope for Fian. The boy had seen enough disappointment in his life.
Despite this sudden icy feeling, the man pushed it down and entered the bridge. Fian sat on one of the chairs that were fastened to the floor panels, his feet up on the vessel’s control desk. The Solitaire must be on autopilot, guessed Jacob.
The view panel stretched across the breadth of the room, jutting out with the ship’s nose slightly. Two stubby wings used for landing on turbulent planets were barely visible on each side.
Stars were above and below them, around them, over and under them, and flying past them. Small meteorites spun in space as they sped by, already they were “venturing the Verge” as it was known as throughout the Astral Realms.
Thor had passed below them moments before, it’s icy interior barely noticeable among all the fleeting suns.
The Starblazer began to slow as they neared the coordinates of several fabled sightings of Starvyrns. A star, which hung slightly to their left shone brightly, casting light and shadows over the asteroid field that littered this section of space. The two young men looked at each other. Jacob’s heart sank as he glimpsed the naiive optimism that shone in his companion’s eyes.
In some ways, it was going to be harder to turn back on his friend’s last dying wish when they inevitably would find only rocks and dust than it was losing her.
Jacob wondered if Fian would ever forgive him. He sat down beside Fincook, and followed his example, adjusting his legs across the control panel in mock assuredness.
If it were meant to be that Fiera’s dreams would die here, then he would sit with her brother and watch them fade. He was already beginning to lose hope. But he couldn’t. This was the last thing she had asked him to do. So he would keep searching, for Fian’s sake...for her sake.
Tren could not count the hours that both he and Fian spent staring out into the blackness. Seldom did they speak, each almost drowning in the proverbial sea of thoughts and memories they each had that were trying to brim to the surface.
It was almost eight hours later that Fian’s head rested on his friend’s broad shoulder, his slender chest rising up and down in discontented sleep. Jacob tried to keep his eyes open and his head from titling to one side, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Even his eyelashes had begun to ache. The tiniest shift in shadow caught the corner of his eye, and his whole head swerved, his cheek bumped against Fian’s red hair. The youth awoke, startled, and then looked to where Jacob was frantically pointing.
A distant wing flapped from a crater within a spiraling asteroid. Two crushed hearts leaped simultaneously. Her truth would be revealed.

***

The wooden door of the hospice room creaked open. Jacob Tren already knew what had happened, as the slim silhouette of Fian Fincook shuffled into the reception room dejectedly.
Jumping up from the seat he had been praying, crying, and sitting upon, the man ran behind a pillar. Fian could not see him like this. Not yet. Fiera had asked him to protect her younger brother, and he would do just that. Even from seeing his own pain.
Tears, which stung his eyes with their heat, trickled along his brown beard. These were no longer tears of pity and pain, but tears of rage. He breathed heavily and rapidly; a feeling of outright betrayal gripped his very heart and soul.
He violently ripped the necklace from his neck, and flung it on the floor in a seemingly childish temper. If God would not listen to him, he was done listening to God. He had prayed, he had obeyed, and in return, Fiera, a friend that he had cherished from the very bottom of his heart, had died. Now, he swore, his faith had died too. How could you believe when all that you tried to do ultimately avails to nothing? When love avails to nothing, what is the point of having faith in the mirage?
Then he stopped his racing mind, and heard the sobs that emanated from behind the pillar. Fian’s cries ricocheted off the walls, ceiling, and floor like an anguished banshee. His parents, and now his beloved sister; gone- just like that, just two years apart.
He was all alone in this world. Not if Jacob had anything to say about it. He would carry out Fiera’s last wish, he still had that much love left in him. Jacob Tren walked towards his kneeling, sobbing friend. Fian gazed up from his aggrieved stupor, snot and tears streaming from every orphus on his face.
“The doctors said the Blaze Crystal content from that asteroid she had the accident on were rising too high in all her veins. They tried to save her...she fought for months...” the boy could not complete his sentence, and fell into another bout of uncontrolled splutters and moans.
Jacob forcibly pulled the boy by the shoulders into a standing position facing him. Pulling Fian towards his broad chest, he fiercely hugged him. Despite the shirt he was wearing, his chest became soaking wet in the first few moments. They stood that way for what seemed hours. They sobbed into one another, oblivious to any passing traffic.
Eventually, there were no tears they could cry anymore. Both men could not sustain any more; at least not for now, their eyes dry and red.
“Well, pack your belongings. We’re taking a ride in my Starblazer, the Solitaire.” said Jacob matter-of-factly.
“Why?” asked Fian
“We’re going to search for those Starvyrns of Fiera’s.”
“I couldn’t think of a better send off for her. We always promised each other as kids, if one of us couldn’t, the other would find them. Thank you.” Fian weakly smiled.
Hope
“I knew it, I knew it! I knew she was right! Good ole’ Fiera! Never could prove her wrong!” Fian shouted, jumping up and down in an excited fervor.
Jacob Tren couldn’t even bring himself to open his mouth. It seemed his throat had closed and all the saliva in his mouth had dissipated. Even if he could speak, he would not have been able to find the words to describe all the emotions he was feeling. The sight was too beautiful, too terrible, too profound, and now obviously too inevitable for him to fully understand.
The wing flapped experimentally in the starlight, and then pushed off with a force that Jacob could feel cause a tremble that rolled straight through his gut.
Like the dragons of Old Earth’s ancient lore, the Starvyrn was indeed a sight to behold. Two wings that must have had a forty-meter wingspan flapped on seemingly nothing. There were obviously no air currents that the creature could logically fly upon. But, Jacob had just ceased to believe in logic.
The body was the same color as the asteroids, a mottled brownish gray, which both the humans assumed to be used for camouflage, but they both couldn’t even conceive what the magnificent beast could be hiding from, other than man.
Muscles rippled all the way along the Starvyrn’s chest and stubby limbs, which were tucked expertly underneath its girth. Leathery skin gave way to horns and spines that glinted off the sun’s light like a hundred phoenix alighting all at once on a cloudless day. Its eyes shone with the strength of a thousand moons, icy light blue irises cascading over dark blue pupils. The Starvyrn’s mouth opened, and Jacob felt as though he was hearing music on a harp being played for the very first time.
Even though the two travelers were in an airtight vehicle, they were still able to hear every inflection and tone in the animal’s song. The serenaded lasted over an hour, as the Starvyrn looped, twisted, dodged, and barreled through the asteroid starscape. As the creature sang its song and flew- if that’s what one would call it- it seemed to release a vibrant energy that seemed to resound around the whole area. The sun, to the asteroids, even the smallest and seemingly insignificant grains of dust, seemed to be alive with the joy of the Starvyrn’s life force.
Though haunting and seemingly from an age gone by, the song held a hint of triumph that was bursting forth; despite the struggle, despite the pain. In a place that seemed to be barren, abandoned, and lonesome, the animal was letting go of itself and tapping into the ebb and flow of the universe.
For the first time in months, Jacob began to realize what he had truly lost. He turned to Fian, who had tears flowing down his cheek, a dazed smile spread across his features. Tren could not help himself; he too began to weep with the joy of letting Fiera, letting a part of himself go. Yet, he was not truly letting her be claimed by past memories, he was letting go of all the rage, all the bitterness, all the sadness he had been feeling. It was replaced by a feeling of blessing, blessing to have had her as a friend, despite its brevity, and blessing to enjoy such a magnificent sight with such a close friend.
Jacob could feel a smile spreading across his face, rising from a sense of exuberance that had been building within his chest, within his very being. Breaths of life were erupting from within him, and he found himself laughing with the sheer absurdity of the rut in which his mind had become accustomed to operating in.
“How do you think it works?” he said.
“What works?”
“You know- well, how do you think he flies?” he asked.
“Does it matter?” Fian was also beginning to laugh.
Tension that had been rising between them, despite their unity in grief, began to fade, what was left was a feeling of contentment with each other. It was a feeling of knowing exactly what the other one was thinking, without even having to say it, just by looking at the person from a certain angle, they could be certain that each had faith in the other, each could trust one another. That peace, which is closest word we have for the state of mind, was what they each had held for Fiera. A peace that Fiera had left them with, which they had not been noticing until that point.
Only then did Jacob realize the real reason why Fiera had sent the two that she had loved most in the world on a journey to find this mythical, beautiful, joyous diamond in the rough. It had been to find answers, it had been to find the truth. The truth, which had lain within them all along.
“She sent us here on purpose. She told me to protect you, but perhaps she meant for you to protect me.” He said, epiphanies trickling from his mind like a continuous stream. At this, Fian started giggling almost manically, like a geyser expelling all trace of waste.
“Funny, she told me to protect you as well.” He said. Jacob already had guessed she had said something like that to Fian. He loved her for it.
A long pause, interrupted only by intermittent chuckles from both sides of the bridge, ensued. Fian finally broke the silence.
“So, where should we go from here?” asked Fian, gaining control, at least slightly, of his giggles.
“I have no idea. I don’t think anyone does. All I know is, we’ll go where we’re meant to.”
Jacob Tren reached into his back pocket for the cross and string, and pulled it out. He tied it around his neck. He looked above him at a point in the ceiling. Jacob smiled the biggest smile he had yet to smile.
Where we’re meant to...

For Auld Lang Syne

2007-01-01T22:22:00.000-05:00

Bright Syne

New Year,
Same old tear,
Of all the seasons to pass,
The tired winds whistle through the same grass,
Nothing is new under the moon,
No hearty song; no melancholy tune,
No romance,
No second chance,
Yet,
I bet,
The breath on the wind has a new voice,
That tells us to rejoice,
That says we’ve made it through the storm,
A new chapter to this book is being born,
One the heralds of old have sung,
With all flute and lung,
As a phoenix from long ago,
The ancient rivers are again going to flow,
The changing of the guard,
A fifth suite of card,
The dawn of spring,
A completion in the cycle of the ring,
For we never gave up,
And we never fell to that ever-tempting cup,
As warriors we stood,
Even if we have slipped from good,
But now we have a glint in our eyes,
A burning bond that ties,
Intertwines,
And finds,
We aren’t at the end,
Merely at another bend,
From the ground to the sky to the sea,
A gust is coming that will let us see,
Let us truly be,
Set us free!

Moonsight

2006-10-31T21:57:00.000-05:00

Ghosts of the past,
Haunt solitary corridors,

Letters from loves gone by,
Of wistful lips kissed beneath the blue sky,

Breeze that flutters
Lack luster

Curtains,
Memories gently drift to the surface

Pianos play softly in the back,
Melancholic epiphanies begin to crack,

Aged men left all alone,
All those they cared for have passed,

Masters looking for something more,
Before they step beyond eternity’s door,

Tears fill distant gray eyes,
Reminiscing on times gone by,

Yet they never truly found a home,
Their bound spirits forever doomed to roam,

Beyond the open windows,
Rain begins to spill upon the lawn,

The pianist concludes his song of somber,
The elder; outcast and misfit; there no longer....

Always Protects, Always Trusts, Always Hopes, Always Perseveres

2006-10-28T20:53:00.000-04:00

Ariel Fifty-One

Yea, I did it again,
Yea, I stepped over the line,
Poison dripped from my battered pen,
I ignored every warning and sign,

I’m such a fathead,
And was proved in the wrong,
I wish I hadn’t said all the things I’ve said,
My faith is none too strong,

Yet I’m reminded every time I fall,
Of the reasons I was put on this green earth,
Still rolling on the Road to Damascus like Paul,
Scrabbling in the sludge of slipping self worth,

Though I’ve finally carved a way,
I’ve finally found those I can trust,
No longer alone beyond the fray,
Though of the Life Bread I’ve barely licked the crust,

Yahweh provides,
Sending what I need,
Brothers and Sisters at my sides,
Cleansing my twisted creed,

Even when I try to turn my back,
And ignore my Fathers’ wisdom,
He has faith that I’ll get the knack,
Forgiving me in his holy princedom,

I asked, he gave,
I wept, he was there,
I was lost, he whispered in my troubled cave,
I was blind, he sent me a friend with a prayer,

How could I doubt?
How could I stumble?
For so long all I could do was curl up into a ball and pout,
Now I’m part of that prophetic rumble,

He is the God of Love,
He forgives all foolish notions,
Even if I’m confused by things above,
Filling me with the only true emotions,

Though the flesh is unwilling,
When the spirit descends,
I realize all my senseless time killing,
He gives me the grace to make amends,

For I must always be changing,
He will not let go until he rocks my complacency,
Always churning; always re-arranging,
Challenging all the laws of “decency”,

I know I’m never alone,
For my God is all around,
My songs will have a sweet tone,
And my joy will never cease to abound...

Draconis Bonus

2006-10-01T22:45:00.000-04:00

October Skies, Sober Cries

Red dawn ascending,
Battered warrior of the night,
Spreads tattered wings; preparing for flight,
Bringing light to a land in desperate need of mending,

Letting loose a cry of defiance,
To a world ruled by bondage and stone,
Except for the seeds that refused to be left unsown,
Destined to form a loving alliance,

Even when the prince of flame,
Felt alone and his fire spluttering into mere embers,
And the ache consumed him more than all cold Decembers,
Warmth came to him that was beyond name,

The wind brought joy,
Beyond all contemplation,
Deeper than just minor elation,
Or what an easy victory could deploy,

For even though the darkness will,
Come creeping back,
Draco has his pack,
And they’ll all be waiting for it on the other side of the hill,

So this is why the dragon,
Roars to the twilight,
As Lore of Bravery engulfs all fright,
And a mountain of Goods fills every wagon,

That is the song of the winged one,
Beaten down yet triumphant,
Unsatisfied with Earthly comfort,
As he awaits the coming of the Son....

Door Knob, Revelation Throb

2006-09-22T20:11:00.000-04:00

A letter to a friend, no not like that ;)...............

Jennie,
I was going to say what I’m gonna say right now to you in person, but I feel it’s better if I write it, so its clearer, and I don’t leave anything important out. Plus, it would take me longer than a lunch period to tell you. I’ve prayed about this, and I feel that God has put you, Elena, and Laurel in my life for a reason, you girls have given me a lot of hope in the past few months when I thought I was fed up with certain circumstances. I was reading Ecclesiastes 4 (hope that’s right) the other day, and its says “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up, But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up....(don’t mind the next verse...it has nothing to do with what I want to say ;))....Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. (here’s the best part) A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” Sorry to like preach to you, but those couple of verses really struck a cord with me. (no pun intended) Cords that are plugged into Abba, into God. The problem is, I’ve been feeling unplugged (not all the time but much of the time) from God a lot of the time for several months, and I want to be connected to Him again, because that’s what it means to truly live.
This week my internet has been disabled for some reason (I think God had something to do with it maybe.... not to sound crazy...but.) it’s put my life into some perspective. I spend my whole life talking to people online, and what for? Except talking to people like Lore (Laurel) and you guys, most people don’t talk about anything. It’s just this void, and they’re all searching for something, yet not really listening to anyone when they try and tell them what it is they lack. Chatting online is not really even talking to people, it’s talking to a machine, a cold, soulless hunk of metal. That’s not really living, I was just “hiding in my bedroom”. So...yea, I’m tired of it. I want to live, and not just sit my fat ass (beg your pardon) in front of the computer my entire life. :) I want to live, and not for me, but for God, Burning for him always.
Ok (I apologize that this is taking sooo long, but here is why I’m telling you this) On Friday, when I was listening to you and Lorin talk, I should have been blessed to know that you had persuaded an unbeliever to enter the temple of the lord, and happy that she has the opportunity to tap into Him, but I was not. I feel horrible that I wasn’t, and bad that I just rolled away...like I always do.
It just reminded me of the fact that most of the brothers and sisters at my church left. (The one I was closest to left for KC a couple of years ago (before I truly accepted God) because he was called to hardcore prayer over there....but the rest of them just left for petty reasons...and I haven’t seen or spoken to them in six months....and I kind of miss them) Sorry to bitch to you (again, excuse my unchristian language), but right after they had a fight (don’t ask me what it was about...I have no clue, nor do I care) (sorry, little bitter) at the place where I used to go to a kinship group (obviously I no longer go,) I was feeling pretty disillusioned and then, I made friends with you guys. “Like freedom in the spring.” (I keep on quoting Switchfoot songs, I have issues......) Just before school ended last year, I was talking to Lore about Abba...and for the first time in like three months my burn for him ignited again, and I have been gradually able to let go of other stuff because of you guys, so I just wanted to say that I’m really blessed to have you guys as friends.
I’m just tired of being connected to God where its all plumcakes and daffodils, and then being brutally disconnected when I remember the fact that my church.... is.... dying and there are like no people our age there...never were really.... and I’m sorry to give you a list of my problems. and type it out....it was just easier than trying to tell you all at once.....I’m just tired of being alone for most of my life, I wanna live, I guess......and not be selfish and bitter half the time....I want to have such unrestrained joy that I am saved that I set others around me afire with the knowledge....the wisdom....the good news! I don’t want you to pity me, I just.... want to change some things in my life, and I’d be blessed if you could help me.
I want to be like my spiritual brother in KC...Always thinking on God, striving to be better than who he was, who I am. There was this fortune cookie I had during the summer, and it said “Don’t let others open doors for you.” So, I guess I’m turning the knob. Anyway, thanks for listening to my rant, I dunno if you can help me...but.....”gotta have faith.....”
Blessed to love you as a Sister,
Dave

Ecclesiastes + Bullshit = Depression

2006-09-11T21:48:00.000-04:00

girls please....u don't want to read this one

Putting it Bluntly

All seem to have sailed,
All seem to have waved,
All seem to have been saved,
All seem to have bailed,

And I’m still waiting here,
I’m still waiting for my ship,
I’m still waiting as frost decays my lip,
I’m still waiting gripped by my own fear,

Watching as the wind blows,
Watching as I tear myself apart,
Watching as nothing will ever start,
Watching as the world just goes,

So I weep because I love,
I weep because I’m left in the dust,
I weep because I can’t quell the lust,
I weep because I’m unplugged from above,

Even when I pray I feel starved,
I pray but feel Odo,
I pray but feel as lost ad the Dodo,
I pray yet I feel so emotionally carved,

I don’t know where to run,
I don’t know where all my brothers have gone,
I don’t know when’s the next dawn,
I don’t know if I won’t end it all with a gun,

I can’t take them anymore,
I can’t take their shit,
I can’t take even one more little bit,
I can’t take how they’re all rotten to the core,

I need friends,
I need brothers,
I need others,
I need no more dead ends,

All my efforts have gotten me nowhere,
All my efforts have just fallen,
All my efforts just leave me crawlin’,
All my efforts get trampled in the Fair,

I’ve fought for too long,
I’ve fought too hard,
I’ve fought with every card,
I’ve fought to sing my song,

All I get is rejection,
All I get is disappointment,
All I get is the same ointment,
All I get is “leave me alone” and I’m left in reflection,

Fuck it!
Fuck it, I can’t take the pain,
Fuck it, there is never any gain,
Fuck this shit!

Sacred Streets of September

2006-09-04T21:02:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow marks the last chapter of the Hills,
The beginning of the end,
Some wounds I’ve gotten here will never mend,
Often jostled by people’s wills,

When I entered high school that day so long ago,
I was a mere child,
But something on these pavements got me riled,
Filling me with a fire that burns until I sow,

I found pain here,
I found faith,
I finally found where I felt safe,
Away from the shattered silver tear,

I look back on these years of four,
No longer the boy rolling over the threshold,
Cruelly taught by hearts and souls so cold,
Feeling like the Beat Knights of Lore,

Constantly being trampled,
But never giving up,
Reaching for the brimming gold cup,
Writing verses from my heart I gambled,

Enthralled by Abba’s intricate weave,
Trying to let him rule,
Because that’s what it truly means to be cool,
So that they see Him through me before I leave,

Yet how will they when many won’t even listen?
How will they when they turn their backs?
And I’m reminded of all the things my life lacks,
A place to call my temple has not yet been risen,

It seems that everyone knows my name,
They all are “close”,
Yet all I am to them is a ghost,
And when I try and reach out all I feel is shame,

They lock their gates,
All I see is cold hard stone,
That Rocks me to the bone,
For I must combat their deep hates,

With Love as my shield,
I’ll show them a better way,
He’ll tell me of the words to say,
Then I shall depart from this war-torn field,

I’ll be able to leave it behind,
Breaking all the chains,
Eroding the old pains,
Sailing away to find my own kind....

Someponder

2006-08-26T16:24:00.000-04:00

Quest of the Last Year

A new day,
Or is it?
A different way,
Or another bad fit?
A victorious charge,
Or a brutal battle?
Blessings in large,
Or my death rattle?
The light at the end grows,
Or is it more faint?
Only the angels know,
Or are they not as they are paint?
Questions will be laid to rest,
Yet could more be raised?
I will finish this twelve-year test,
Will I not be completely crazed?
Fear I pray will be trampled,
Yet will terror grip my chest?
A taste of a new life sampled,
Yet will it be like all the rest,
I will venture boldly into the world,
But will I stay afloat,
I refuse to end up in Allie’s curled,
Will all these demons be smote?
Something in me is burning bright
Or is it just a frail grope?
I have found and will hold the one true light,
For it, He, is my only hope....
There is no question in that!

BurnT

2006-08-24T16:42:00.000-04:00

Elation,
Always followed by frustration,
Blocking,
My path and mocking,
Searching,
Finding nothing except this impatient lurching,
Caught,
Inside something you thought you had already fought,
Enraged,
In a vicious battle engaged,
Fighting,
My demons through my writing,
Lust,
Yet knowing patience is a must,
Happy,
Yet always feeling slightly crappy,
Barred,
Yet gripping my lucky card,
Battered,
In the gutter many dreams have lain shattered,
Blocked,
Yet I remember God who had me rocked,
Forsaken,
Praying for the Tribes to awaken,
Sad,
Then when I think of it I am mad,
Dead,
Yet I’ve been to places demons fear to tread,
Unplugged,
Yet seeing that I am still loved,
Astray,
So I kneel and I pray,
Heal,
So that I truly feel,
Burn,
As I learn,
Burn,
As I turn,
Burn,
As I yearn....

Alliterate

2006-08-06T14:23:00.000-04:00

Battered Band of Believers,
Whispering a Wordless Wonder,
Forsaking Fear for Faith,
Jumping with the Jubilee of Jesus,
Seeking Solace from Seductive Sin,
Alighting Atheist Alters,
Praying for Partitions’ Perish,
Living Laughing Love,
Courage of Clarity through Clamorous Chord,
Gathering Grace Gleefully,
Happy Hope for Heavenly Hugging,
Tapping into Terrible Truth,
Evil Enticing Even till End,
Yes, Yahweh! we Yell,
Righteous Rock of Rapture,
Victory will Vanquish all Vicious Visions...

Awe Gust

2006-08-02T19:55:00.000-04:00

I look to each side of the road,
On one a brother gone,
On the other; a sister lost,
Behind me I carried a heavy load,
Ahead an uncertain dawn,
All around me is covered with a slumbering frost,
I’ve known too much rejection,
There are too many entries in my Diary of Pain,
Walls must be crumbled,
I’ve seen too many come with correction,
I will no longer refrain,
Until all the clans are humbled,
So I ask for more hands,
For more minds, spirits, souls,
Send an angel to my side,
So that we can teach to all the lands,
Until that day when the last bells toll,
But we must not hide,
We will work in the ways of the Lord,
We will wait on our Father,
Praying for the fallen,
We shall never be bored,
His kingdom is worth our bother,
Because of his Grace we are no longer Saulin’...

It's Only Just Begun

2006-07-31T22:28:00.000-04:00

(photo compliments of the BBC)

Fine Illusion

Wake up!
Wake up ye masses!
You who sit idly by and watch!
While the world falls before you!

Pass the cup!
Get off your asses!
All you do is blame others for this botch!
Well, it’s our fault too!

We just stand here and do nothing!
As governments around us crumble!
We are too fearful to act!
But we must pick up the torch!

My generation, you who are looking for something!
Heedless to the thunders’ rumble!
Blind to countless cities sacked!
As armies’ feet pound on our porch!

So what are we to do you ask!
Who are we to trust?
Who will save us?
Who can we put our faith in?

And I tell you; this is our task!
Before the bombs turn us all to dust!
Some seem to have found what we all someday must!
Some have found their kin!

They are at peace!
Amidst this world in chains!
They pray for our souls!
They pray for their sons and daughters who are still enticed!

For they will not rest until we fly like geese!
Until the last car bomb ceases to plague the lanes!
We must come up out of our respective holes!
They wait for us to find our savior, our Christ!

The Plot Thickens (Chapters Nine and Ten)

2006-07-25T12:35:00.000-04:00

Chapter Nine
Stairs! Liam hated stairs. Ebony and he were inside the inn, staring up at the twenty odd flights.
“So, explain to me again why you sit inside a wheelbarrow?” said Rune quizzically.
“For the hundredth time it’s a wheelchair, and I have no legs, so I need it.” Liam replied, realizing these people had no concept of a disability.
“Was it in battle?”
“No, in childbirth, are you insane, a battle? I’m only sixteen!” Rune look perplexed at this, and the boy realized that if he had lived in this society he would have been fighting as soon as he could walk...or at least talk.
“It must be fun, though, to whiz around in that thing all day. We should race sometime!” said a man at the table a few feet away.
“Yea...its so fun, we can cut your legs off and then strap you in one...and you’ll have a blast!” shot back Liam, wiping the stupid grin off the man’s face. It seemed that not everything was different on this side of the Bridge.
“So...how are we going to get you up these steps? I can carry you up, if you don’t mind.” interjected Rune.
“Actually, I do mind. Can I sleep down here?” replied Liam, unwilling to have his blood spill onto the stone
steps.
Rune conceded, and went to collect some mattresses from the upstairs rooms. Ebony wordlessly sat at one of the tables, not much of a companion. She polished her gun menacingly. The guards had left hours ago, and Liam and Ebony had eaten their meals here.
Moonlight could be seen rising through the windows, and darkness began to creep over Trilth. The last of the late night diners left. Ebony and Liam sat all by themselves. The only light was that of the roaring fire by the bar, warming the inn from the wintry elements.
“So...you like it here?” asked Liam, attempting to start a conversation. Ebony just looked at him, then continued with her gun caressing.
“I do, though I wouldn’t want to live here. I mean, first of all, it’s completely inaccessible. Secondly, nobody believes in the Fae, I mean what’s up with that? It’s like the government is trying to lie to the people. Cover up the truth. And I thought on our side it was bad. D’you know-“
“Do you know, that you talk too much.” said Ebony.
“There...I knew you could talk! Out of our little hole are we?” Ebony rose at Liam’s comment, fed up with human interaction. Without a word, she headed for the stairs. Bounding up to the top level, she left the boy all alone.
“Typical female.” he muttered under his breath. Rune came back down, and placed mattresses beside him.
“I see your lady friend took her leave of you.”
“Yea...though she’s not really my friend. I just met her last night. We’re just looking for the same thing.”
“What is that?”
“Answers.” replied Liam vaguely, not wishing to get into yet another discussion about the existence of the Fae.
“Where ya from?”
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe it.”
“Try me.” said Rune, a knowing look in his eyes.
“Beyond the Bridges...to the place your people call Neverbin.” Rune froze with the pillow he was about to plunk down, shocked.
“I thought such a place did not exist.”
“Neither does anyone else in this village. Yet you don’t seem as close-minded to the idea as the others.”
“That is because I’ve been a witness to...things...that should not have happened, beings that defy all logic.”
“Fae?” asked Liam.
“Fae. We cannot talk now, the hour grows late. Just, whatever you do, do not tell my daughter of such things. She’s too young.” begged Rune. He turned back up the steps, leaving Liam perplexed. Rune has a daughter? Why didn’t he want her knowing of the Fae? Thoughts swirled around in Liam’s head as he slipped from his wheelchair to the floor. Laying his head upon the pillow, Liam’s cold blue eyes stared into the fire.
Two worlds seemed to weigh heavily upon his shoulders. Liam was confused, scared, and did not know who he could trust. Good thing he had been in high school for the past two and a half years. Otherwise, he’d be in completely uncharted territory.

Chapter Ten
Flair crept into the inn, lightly stepping towards the stairs. The flames in the fireplace had faded to embers hours before, leaving the room pitch black. Her half Vanish eyes were the only thing that kept her from knocking over the scattered tables and chairs. She had spent all night in the forest among the other Vanish girls. Her limbs were sore from all the tree jumping.
A floorboard creaked ominously. The young girl stopped dead in her tracks. Hearing nothing from Rune’s room above, she continued. She vaguely remembered him saying something about going out somewhere. Grabbing the rickety wooden railing, she began to climb the staircase.
“Who are you?” came a voice that she had heard many times before. Alaric? Inside the inn? Thinking of nothing but protecting her friend, she focused on one of her hands. A ripple, similar to the one she had created at lunchtime, emanated from her palm, and a fireball ignited within it. The small flame illuminated the woodwork around her to great effect. It danced just above her palm like a caffeinated pixie.
“Alaric, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Um...I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” Flair came closer to the now sitting form.
“Alaric of Vanish, I would know your voice out of a crowd of a thousand people, now stop playing games with me.” She lowered the flame, and spread light over the boy’s face. Cold blue eyes and dark hair stared back at her intently. Yet, something was different about him. He wore strange clothes instead of the silks she was accustomed to. He had shorter hair too, and when she looked down at his legs, they were nowhere to be seen.
Holding her hand over her mouth, the girl restrained the scream that yearned to explode from her lips.
“What happened to you?” she embraced him, making sure the flame did not burn his unprotected back. He pushed her away, a look of bemusement on his face.
“Look, I don’t know who you think I am, but I can assure you that I’m not from around here. My name’s Liam, by the way.” He stuck out his hand in a strange manner, and Flair stumbled back.
“Alaric, you know me, Flair, do not jest. Tell me what happened to your legs.”
“Flair, whoever you are, whoever this Alaric dude is, I ain’t him. I’ve never seen you before in my life. You’re Rune’s kid, aren’t you?” said Liam, no longer amused.
“Will you people stop calling me a kid, I am Flair of Ragfin, daughter of the Vanish.”
“And now you’re dead.” came a voice from the top of the stairs. A soft click followed, and a racing bullet just missed Flair’s head. It pierced harmlessly through the woodworks of a nearby table.
Rolling expertly, Flair sent another ripple from her palm, this one causing trapped air to go whooshing up the staircase. From upstairs the sound of a body being thrown on its back could be heard. Rune’s daughter pulled her hand backwards, dragging the body head over heels down the stairs with a tractor ripple. Ebony landed in a heap on the floor, her forehead bleeding.
Flair ripped the gun from Ebony’s temporarily pinned arms.
“I hate guns.” she said, sending it spinning across the floor into a darkened corner. Ebony, tough to bring down, rose to her feet shakily. Both women regarded each other with contempt. Liam shrank back into the corner, praying that he would not get tangled up in this clash of titans. This was sure to get ugly.

Just Keep Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'...

2006-07-23T20:03:00.000-04:00

The Road to Damascus

Rolling in your ways,
I listen for your voice,
For you guide me through this maze,
I wait with patience in my poise,
Even though I cannot completely comprehend,
Even though sometimes I trip,
I have your Angels that you send
Through you I run towards this Mountain’s tip,
Before I was lost,
And while I still have my moments,
I praise you for the bridges I have crossed,
You hear when I cry for atonements,
You do not judge,
You only love,
Though my pen may often smudge,
I follow your tranquil dove,
The path ahead of me is paved,
For truly I am being saved...

Two by two, Hands of Blu (Chapters Seven and Eight)

2006-07-22T15:15:00.000-04:00

Chapter Seven
The hand cannon’s shaft glinted in the sunlight that spilled through the window. Its elegantly crafted wooden handle passed under the metallic barrel. The sight at the tip of the barrel opened up into what looked like a trumpet’s horn. Etched into the handle in script was the name Brice, Captain of the Guard.
“It truly is a work of art. Led, you’ve proved your worth as master Gunsmith yet again.” said Brice, admiring his new gun.
“It is a pleasure to be of service to a son of Trilth. We fought alongside each other during the border wars, your father and I, did he ever tell you-“ the stooped old man that sat on a rickety stool was cut off in mid ramble.
“I’m sure it’s a very interesting tale, but as the new Captain of the Guard, I have matters to attend to.” replied the youthful boy, impatience showing in his brown eyes.
Led slumped in his seat as his ego deflated, then quickly turned back to his workstation. Another half finished hand cannon lay atop it, mold in the masters’ hands. Brushing sawdust off his red and gold armor, Brice slung his gun over his back. Just as he was about to come through the doorway that opened out into one of the myriad meandering streets in Trilth, Wilmo scurried in.
“Man-at-arms Wilmo of Awn with a message, sir!” he cried, saluting the youth overenthusiastically.
“Wilmo, I know who you are, and for the tenth time this week, you do not have to salute me.”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Only following regulations, sir.” said Wilmo, trying to account for the affront he had caused Brice.
“Please don’t call me sir either Wilmo. Now what is this message?”
“Travelers from afar.” He ducked his head in the doorway.
“They are a bit strange, if you know what I mean.” He drew his head out again.
“No, I don’t know what you mean.” Brice could feel his patience running thin again.
“Well...one of them has a gun...and the other one...he’s riding around in a wheelbarrow.”
“A what?” It was too early in the morning for this.
“Well...at least it looks like he’s riding in a wheelbarrow.”
“Show me to them.” said Brice unenthusiastically.
Wilmo trotted down the street with Brice close at his heels, as the smell of fresh bread and fish wafted through the air. Turning yet another corner passed the Blacksmith’s, the young Captain glimpsed three figures ahead.
Man-at-arms Bolrick, with his rotund body standing resolute in the street, guarded the two newcomers. A girl round about Brice’s age stood, hands on her hips. Her midriff showed below her white shirt. Unused to seeing such a large amount of flesh laid bare on a woman’s body, Brice shielded his eyes. Her blonde hair was once again tied back in a fierce bun and an advanced-looking gun was slung across her back. The girl’s companion, a younger boy, looked at Brice under black hair. As Wilmo had said, he did indeed seem to be sitting in something that looked rather like a wheelbarrow.
“May I present Brice, Captain of the Trilth Guard!” announced Wilmo, receiving a dark look from the embarrassed Brice.
“I am Liam, and this is Ebony. We’ve crossed one of the Bridges here, following a group of Fae. We were wondering if you had seen them.” said the boy.
“What Bridges? What is all this talk of Fae as well? Everyone knows they are just a myth to scare little children at night.” Wilmo replied with conviction.
“Wilmo...I shall deal with this. Master Liam, Lady Ebony, follow me into the Barracks. We can discuss your unusual story in there. We don’t want to upset the villagers. Right this way.” said Brice, leading the way towards the barracks.
Dodging a couple of street urchins, they neared the building. Built of stone similar to that of the city walls, the Barracks towered over the houses that nestled beneath its shadow. Crenellations rose at even intervals, Town Guard patrolling on them. Passing through the open archway, Brice led the other four to his offices. A house like structure stood against one wall of the barrack’s courtyard. Men-at-arms practiced swordsmanship with one another in the open space, showing off for their new Captain.
The youthful soldier opened the decaying door of the office, and motioned the two visitors to stay in the main room. His men followed him into his private offices, shutting the door behind them. Brice laid his new gun upon a well-furnished desk, and took a seat behind it. Brushing his blonde air away from his sunken eyes he breathed deeply.
“So...what do we do with these people?” asked Wilmo.
“What do you mean, Wil? Must we do anything with them? I don’t see that they’ve done anything wrong. Maybe we should just let them be.” the boy replied.
“But they think they come from Neverbin, the first plane. They think they saw Fae. We do not want them to infect the minds of the villagers. We could have another insurrection on our hands.”
“Wil, I don’t think it’s a crime to believe in Faebel and the Fae. I think I shall let them go.”
“No! You shall not! They are a threat to the peace of mind of this fair village of Trilth. They are anarchists and rabble-rousers and will be monitored at all times!” came a familiar voice from the door. Both men-at-arms quickly stepped out, not wishing to intrude.
Closing the door behind him, the Prefect of Trilth, Ferrin of Kobble, stepped inside. Robes of gold and red covered his rather obese body. His stubby fingers were bejeweled with the finest of rings. His baldhead was concealed with a golden crown helm. It glinted with the sunlight that shone through the window. The blue stone that was etched in the crown’s center completed his opulent garb.
“What is your business here?” said Brice, knowing that the presence of the Prefect was going to complicate things astronomically.
“I can’t visit unannounced anymore? I heard there were some newcomers, and I thought I’d come by. I see you’ve gotten a new hand cannon crafted, Led is truly a master of the art.” said Ferrin, handling the gun with reverence.
“I would appreciate it if you would put that down. I paid for it with all last month’s wages. Which my men and I agree was all much too low. We expect at least ten more Gorns next month.”
“Now, Brice, you must understand. The budget of the Town Guard had to be cut down. After the last Poor Man’s Revolt, we’ve had to rebuild all the houses that were destroyed during the battle. Not to mention all the money distributed to the previous Captain’s widows. Which, I might add, is whose seat you’re sitting in. Can you imagine all the strings I had to pull in order for you to sit there? Don’t be so ungrateful.”
“I would be grateful if I had gotten here myself. To be the Captain of the Trilth Guard has been my life long dream, but not like this. I shouldn’t even be sitting here.”
“Yes you should, you are the best man for the job. You have earned it. You slew two rebels, those that would-
“Those that were poor, that had nothing. Those who had been oppressed and were pushed to the brink. Whose daughters had been taken from them to be wives of the wealthy. Men that had loved me...that I loved! All gone with one pull of my trigger, one flick of my wrist. If that’s what it takes to become Captain then I don’t want to be the Captain!”
“Order above all! Those men stood for chaos, for superstitious, dead beliefs. They had to be put down. It was for the good of the people.”
“Listen to yourself! They are the people! We exist to serve them, not them serving us.” With this, Ferrin gave a long cackling laugh.
“You still have a lot to learn, my young son.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“You are my son, whether you wish to associate with me or not. I’m not the only one that misses you. Your sister wishes that you would come visit. We are only a few streets from here.”
“Well enough of this, if you would excuse me, Prefect, I have matters to attend to.” said Brice, attempting to hide the fact that he missed his sister as well.
“I came to offer my services. I’ve called for a meeting of the Six tomorrow. Among other matters, we will decide what to do with these two. For now, take them to the Beer Tap. Rune will be happy to give them room and board.”
“I see. Well, I suppose that can be arranged.” said Brice, just wishing for Ferrin to get out of his sight. He hated relenting to his father like this, but kept finding himself doing it.
“Good day, Captain.” said Ferrin, exiting the office swiftly. Rising from his seat, Brice exited his office. He walked straight into another argument.
“Now listen here, Milady. It’s bad enough that you are a member of the weaker sex that handles weapons. You must allow me to take that gun from you; they are not permitted on civilians in the village. Especially not young girls.”
“You can stuff it, jarhead. This gun has gotten me through a lot. In order for you to have it, you would have to pry my cold, dead fingers from it.” retorted Ebony, fixing Wilmo with her fiery emerald eyes.
“Captain, she will not part with her weapon. Should I have Bolrick make her?” asked Wilmo. From the corner of his eye, Brice could just make out Bolrick cracking his knuckles experimentally.
“Um...no...she can keep her weapon.” said Brice tentatively. Bolrick muttered something dejectedly under his breath.
“Follow me, we are going to arrange room and board for you at the local inn until we figure out what to do with you.” With that, Brice led them out the Captain’s house.
Quickening his step, Brice’s mood improved. He was going to the Beer Tap. He earnestly wished that he would be able to speak with the only person that made life in Trilth worth living. Flair of Ragfin was intrigue herself.

Chapter Eight
“I think, Master Mune, you have had too much Dragon’s Milk. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“O, no, young lad, I’m not drunk, jusht shlightly tipshy.” said Mune, falling to the inn’s floor with a resounding crash. This early in the day?
“Father...Mune blacked out again. Could you carry him outside!” cried Flair, stepping over the body tiredly. Rune shambled over, his bar apron splattered with all manner of drink. In front of the assembled farmers and miners, he slung the drunkard over his shoulder expertly.
“You should lose some weight, Mune. What have your wives been feeding you lately?” he said, much to the jeers of the inn goers. Rune headed towards the exit, his boots shuffling on the uneven wooden floorboards. He opened the door, and stumbled outside. Flair watched for a few moments, then turned back to the assembled men at one of the tables.
The nearest man, a grizzled miner, grabbed her dress, attempting to feel up her leg. As he grinned cruelly up at her, her eyes burned with disgust. Quickly checking to see if her father was still outside, she focused on the man’s elbow. What appeared to be the slightest tremor of a liquid like substance rippling through the air joggled the elbow he was leaning on. It slipped off the table, and the man’s face splashed right into his steaming soup. The other men laughed, assuming he had done this by himself. The screams would not die down for several minutes. Flair fervently hoped Alaric would not find out about her abuse of the Tap.
A knock came from the door. Assuming it to be Rune locked out, Flair stormed over. Steaming, she flung open the door.
“Alright! That’s it! I am never working at your horrid inn again. All manner of vile and disgusting filth can just waltz his way in...” Her voice trailed off as she saw the Captain of the Guard standing before her. Slightly taken aback, Brice meekly said:
“I hope I’m not this vile filth you speak of. Can I come in?” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the girl led the way to the bar. Brice shook his head inwardly. Truly an oddity. Flair jumped over the bar countertop with one leap, upsetting a tankard of an unknown green substance. Turning to the Captain, she spoke.
“I apologize for the outburst back there. I thought you were my father. Is there anything I can help you with, Brice?”
“Yes...there are some travelers waiting outside...from afar. I wish to have them stay here for the night. Can that be arranged with your father?”
“I believe it can, he’ll be right back from taking out...the rubbish.” she said, pouring a drink for him from one of the greasy taps. She slid the mug towards him expertly.
“So...Flair, how are things?”
“They are good.” she said, busying herself by wiping down the counter.
“Still recovering from the fighting?”
“You know, you didn’t have to defend me like that. That man was not going to attack me.”
“I took it upon myself as a Son of Trilth to defend a Daughter of Trilth. It was my pleasure.”
“Blowing a man’s head off was pleasurable for you? I am so glad to hear that. I knew that man, I had seen him around Trilth all the time. He was not going to attack me, I can assure you.”
“He may have been polite to you before, but he was running towards you with a mad glint in his eye.”
“Perhaps because he saw the look in your eye.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Young lad, I would quit while your behind.” said a man drinking an ale beside him. Flair chuckled for a fleeting second.
The door flung open, and Rune stepped back in, Muneless.
“Father...there is an unthinking slave of the government here to see you.” said Flair, giving Brice a sardonic smile. He could feel his ears burning.
“Flair, I brought you up better than that! Brice, our favorite Captain of the Guard, how may I be of service to you?” Rune said, bowing emphatically.
“I have visitors from beyond Trilth. I would like to have them rest here for the night. Until we figure out what to do with them.”
“Certainly, anything for the Town Guard.” Brice could see from the corner of his eye Flair cough loudly with Rune’s latest comment.
“Hold your tongue, Daughter!” At this, Flair stuck out and grabbed her tongue, apparently in one of her obstinate moods. Shaking with indignation, the inn keep pointed up the stairs at the other end of the room. He could not even form the words. Achieving what she had wanted, the girl raced away. Taking one last look a Brice, she bounded up the stairs, her reddish-blonde hair flowing behind her.
“That girl! Infuriating! I apologize, Brice, you can bring your travelers in.” said Rune.
“She’s not all that bad. She brought a smile to my day.”
“You want to keep her?” replied Rune, half joking.

So Far Away

2006-07-21T23:34:00.000-04:00

Castle Nova

Delusions,
Confusions,

Fear,
Near,

Decay,
Pay,

Impatience,
Relations,

Beyond,
Fond,

Slanted,
Ranted,

Pummeled,
Bundled,

Forsaken,
Brakin’,

Reaching,
Preaching,

Unknown,
Unsown,

Blunder,
Thunder,

Good Fight,
White Knight...

In Too Deep

2006-07-20T22:02:00.000-04:00

Beauty and the Blood

Is this the end?
Or just the beginning?

What will tomorrow’s demons send?
Or will the angels stop me from sinning?

I look out my window,
Watching the world fall,

The night sky lit up with cannon glow,
As we hide behind our safe wall,

Feelings of disconnection,
From the rest of the human race,

Praying for their protection,
As I turn from God’s face,

Asking him to forgive,
While I spit at his glory,

As men who would have me dead come to the place where I live,
I write my.... his....story,

Knowing that it is my first,
Yet realizing it could also be my last,

Yearning to quench my thirst,
As shrapnel flies from a bomb’s blast,

Always thinking of her,
But wondering if there’s anyone beside,

My high school days pass in a blur,
For in my Father I will confide...

Phoenix, Dragon, Soldier, Wagon

2006-07-19T22:28:00.000-04:00

Joy Taint

They say I inspire,
But then I betray you and become a liar,
Father please forgive me,
I do wrong behind your back and in Satan’s name decree,
I hold on to this world that is quickly falling,
Even though I know without you I’d barely be crawling,
I have one foot on either side,
I know you will not abide,
I must choose my side,
And I know the love you have for me is a mile wide,
We are so oblivious to the crumbling walls,
As we cry that God has forsaken us when we can’t make collect calls,
We look to only better ourselves,
Seeking congratulations to place on our shelves,
We leave no room for the Maker,
We are just supple bread and he is the Baker,
I try to praise your name,
But then I sin and it just doesn’t sound the same,
I feel I am trapped in this cycle of complacency,
God is busting me out of my culture’s concept of decency,
The years of compromise is ending,
We are in the business of soul mending,
Yet I still persist to desist,
Clenching to the sky my stained fist,
Then Jeshua comes to console,
As I drink from his overflowing bowl,
He is my rock,
In him; I will not fear if they mock,
He loves me like no other,
I must spread my joy to every sister and brother...

Somber Summer

2006-07-19T19:47:00.000-04:00

Girls- read at your own risk- just some latent feelings for......someone....

Lost Pearl, Searching Girl

Teenage rage,
Churning like gasoline onto my page,
Former calm slipping from my palm,
Anger exploding from within with the force of a bomb,
Frustration bleeding away concentration,
Passed failures crippling my elation,
Skies oblivious to my cries,
Smiles hiding their lies,
A field where my heart reeled,
Confusion and bitterness left concealed,
Apologies to be loan’t but I don’t,
Things I should say to her but I know I won’t,
All come back when I think of her; whom I lack,
I wonder if she will ever run free with my pack....

Mind, Hands, Heart (first Six chapters of book)

2006-07-18T16:08:00.000-04:00

Chapter One
She patted his head maternally.
“I understand.”
Liam Gyle’s eyes flashed an icy shade of blue for several seconds. Something deep within the core of his stomach churned, and he suppressed the urge to let a tear roll down his cheek. He had truly thought she was different than the others. He had felt something genuine for her. Now all he felt was leaden; dead. The girl was apparently oblivious to the pain she was inflicting.
They sat in the center of Livercoal, watching cars pass by on the sleepy main street. Liam in his wheelchair, beside the bench she was sitting on. A nearby phone rang, tearing the adolescent from his reverie. The girl beside him produced a cell phone from her sequined purse. He turned away, not wishing to intrude on a private conversation. An intake of breath indicated that something was amiss.
“She didn’t!” Liam could just make out another voice on the other end of the line.
“I thought we told her... I know, right... Alright, I’ll be right there.” She snapped her phone shut in an officious manner, and turned back towards Liam.
“I’m so sorry, Liam, but I’ve gotta skate. My friend, I told her not to-“
“I know, you can go, I’ll just stay here...” Liam said in despondence.
Rising from her seat, she smiled sweetly at him. After she had disappeared from behind the decrepit corner store, Liam sighed. A flurry began to fall from the cloudy sky, sticking to the sidewalk. He pulled his denim jacket closer around himself. He rubbed his birth marked left hand against his right, trying to warm himself up.
He began to push his chair towards a large building that stood atop the hill behind Main Street. Knowing that his parents would be away for the next few days, Liam knew that he had plenty of time. To spend alone. Placing frigid hands on even colder wheels, Liam struggled to keep the chair rolling in a straight line. He cursed at the extra strain his legless torso was forced to exert.
A group of young boys about his age appeared near where the street curved up the hill. Attempting to impress a girl who walked among them, the dolts tripped over each other’s feet. One almost pushed his companion into the road when the latter tried to recite poorly remembered Shakespeare to her. He had even managed to pronounce Oberon incorrectly, Liam thought to himself. The group headed towards Liam, yet they did not seem to notice or even care that he was there. The teenagers, pretentiously clothed in leather jackets that were several sizes too large for them, filled the Saturday afternoon air with a raucous clamor. They could barely walk in such overbearing garments. In disgust, Liam ducked down the alleyway, which led to the library, the building which stood at the top of the hill.
The library was fashioned after an old English Tudor cottage of the late medieval period. Wooden rafters held up a tiled roof that slanted up in a pyramid shape. A dome stood atop the structure, a crowning monument to the Pennsylvanian town. The rusted spire reached to the sky, a long needle like point scraping the clouds.
The boy neared the double oak doors that marked the entrance to the library. Pulling one of the derelict doors towards him, Liam backed up in a hurry and attempted to slide through the crack before the door closed. Unfortunately the door slammed shut before he could get through. His frustration mounting, Liam lunged for the door again. Before his hand could even reach the metal handle, hairy fingers engulfed it in a bear like grip.
Startled, Liam looked up at the figure that was now holding the door open for him. The man of about twenty was cloaked in a tattered leather jacket that fell to his ankles. Liam at first believed the man to be of the party of adolescents in the main street. He soon realized that he had never seen this man before. Curly brown hair fell over olive green eyes. His face cast a wave of reassurance that washed over the boy.
“You gonna go in?” asked the man in a gruff, yet soothing tone.
“Yeah, thanks man.” said Liam. The door shut behind them as the pair walked into the vast expanse of the library.
Piercing the sky like a cathedral, books were stacked on shelves that rose to the highest point of the dome. They were vast pools of knowledge that were just yearning to be tapped. Liam had read almost all of them. This was his home; this was his sanctuary.
From behind Liam, the young man spoke:
“There is something better out there than hiding among your books, Liam of Gyle. I’ve come to show it to you, if you’re willing to learn.” Liam could feel a cold shudder trickle down his spine. He turned to face the man, to face his future.

Chapter Two
Flair of Ragfin lay upon the tiled roof of The Beer Tap inn. Stars twinkled down despite the receding snow clouds. She fiddled with a brilliant purple flower. The stone fortifications of Trilth ran along just below the roof of the inn, as the Town Guard patrolled the ramparts.
For the life of her, the young girl could not make out what exactly they thought they were guarding the village from. If he could get away with it, Prefect Kobble would try to deny even the very existence of Vervain. What hid in the forest was unknown to the humans. Humans do not like the unknown. Flair could not understand the reason for that, either.
Despite the village folk’s best efforts to stop them, trees and vines from Vervain crept over the walls, attempting to claim the land where they had once grown uninhibited.
The teenage girl lay above the inn that belonged to her father. In all directions except the forest lay the frontier town of Trilth. It was infested with those that were either too tired or too rich to appreciate the twinkling night stars. A late winter breeze brushed passed Flair’s dress, causing it to flutter elegantly, as its pearly white hue caught the moon’s nocturnal light. A faint scratching came from her right, and the youth could see a feline figure making its way towards her.
“Bladderbax!” she whispered, picking up the small cat and cradling him in her arms. His fur was a dark shade of blue, except for three black stripes, which streaked from the top of his head to the tip of his tail. He nuzzled her chest, as she sat up. Two more felines followed their brother, The Black Sisters, Flair called them. They curled up around the girl’s legs, licking her bare feet playfully. Behind them, yet another cat appeared, her green feline eyes glowing fixedly. Gingercoon, Bladderbax’s mate sauntered up to the girl, curling her orange-brown body and black striped tail around her lover. Flair scratched the back of her head soothingly. Bladderbax nuzzled her white underbelly, making mewing noises in the process. His tail batted Flair’s legs excitedly. Gingercoon pretended not to notice all the attention that was being paid to her.
“Do these cats have nothing better to do except follow you around wherever you may wander?” said a voice to her left. Despite her familiarity with such entrances, Flair jumped.
A boy slightly older than her had appeared on the roof, splendidly dressed in silky forest greens and browns that seemed to cascade off his shoulders like a waterfall. Well-combed dark hair spilled down to his shoulders, as his icy blue eyes gazed fixedly upon her, his arms tucked around his legs. Elongated ears protruded from his head, stretching behind it as if he always had the wind supporting them.
“Alaric!” cried Flair, Bladderbax and his clan momentarily forgotten as she embraced the newcomer. He patted her back hesitantly with his birth marked hand. Pushing him back suddenly, a look of concern crossed over her delicate features.
“How did you get here? You know that if my father finds out I’ve been in the forest I shall be scrubbing his infernal inn’s floors for months! And what about you? If they find you, do you know the stir you’ll cause through Trilth...through all the Provinces?” The words seemed to tumble from her mouth all at once, almost indistinguishable from one another.
Alaric chuckled knowingly, pressing his forefinger to her rapidly moving lips.
“Hush little sister, Humans see what they want to see, to them, I am but a shadow. That’s why my people are called the Vanish, isn’t it?”
“I hate it when you call me little sister. I’m not even related to you! I’m not the little six-year-old lost in the forest anymore. I’m fourteen, why don’t people treat me as such?”
“Maybe they do, and you just don’t like it.”
“Shut up.” replied Flair, playfully swatting at her rooftop companion. He embraced her playfully, releasing tensions of his day.
“O, Flair, I wish I could spend my days frolicking in the village and forest like you do. I used to, but ever since my parents died, Elder Garron has been rushing me around like a mad person. I thought Vanish earned their way into leadership through patience, among other things. Yet, it seems that with my father’s death there is a power vacuum in the Council. All the worry about these factions splitting away from the Forest Clan is putting a strain on everyone lately.”
“Well you always have me to come back to when the politics are too much for you, Prince of Vanish. But, it’s not all fun and games for me; ever since the Poor Men’s Rebellion, old man Rune has been working me like a dog for his wretched inn. He’s so careful with his Gorns that he doesn’t want to hire any barmaids, so I have to wait every one of the tables. It truly is a dreadful business, all these farmers and miners spreading dirt all over the place. They keep on asking me how old I am too. Then I have to take their tankards away, and the whole debauchery draws on into the night. Just yesterday I had to call the Town Guard to arrest a man. Sometimes I wish I could trade places with some of the noblemen’s daughters on the other side of Trilth.”
“If you had never lived on this side of the village, I never would have met you though. I would never have known that a human could be so kind, and skilled in the art of the Tap. I wouldn’t have even known a human!“
“You would be skilled in the Tap too, if you just tried harder. And you know I’m only half human.” replied Flair firmly. She guided back her flowing reddish blonde hair. This revealed similar ears to Alaric’s, though slightly longer.
“I know, I know. Have you made any progress in asking Rune about your mother?”
“Alas, no, my father has a pole stuck up his buttocks when it comes to me asking about such matters. To all matters, when I come to think about it. I fear he will never tell me the race of my mother, or even who my mother was. For all we know, you and I could be related.” Flair chided. At this they both laughed nervously, earnestly hoping that this was not the case.
“Flair! Get down from there this instant, its well passed Moondown!” came a flustered voice from the inn below. The two guilty youths looked at each other.
“Farewell, I shall see you around the bush.” said Alaric. He had vanished into the darkness before Flair could say goodbye.
Alighting upon the cobblestone street that ended a few feet beyond her with the wall, the girl twirled around to glimpse her father, Rune, coming with all manner of haste from the inn. He was shaking his fist, saying something she had heard a thousand times before about how she was not allowed even remotely near the forest. She barely took notice of his raving, as Bladderbax and the other cats coiled themselves around her protectively.
“...and what will the other townsfolk think? Does Jana of Pie down the street sit on her father’s roof at all hours of the night? No! Does Bead of Rock wander around the town with stray animals climbing all over her? No! Only you: Flair of Ragfin! Why do you repeatedly cause the people of this village to suspect you of being anything but a normal Daughter of Trilth? You know I don’t need the Town Guard breathing down my neck, not at this stage of the...plans! You already called them to the inn last week, we cannot risk them finding out about the weapons!” ranted Rune, his red beard bristling with indignation.
He brushed her hair back over her ears, and shooed away the stray cats. Gingercoon and the Sisters were quick to jump away. Bladderbax hissed at Rune, and then thought better of it. He and his family slinked off into the frosty street. They would have to search elsewhere for food and warmth tonight.
“I am not a Daughter of Trilth! I am a Daughter of Faebel, you know as well as I, Father. I do not belong among the Fallen, I belong with my people!”
“Don’t you dare call humans Fallen. Despite many denizens of this town, humans can be very gifted and loving people. And please do not mention Faebel or the Fae, I do not want you to draw attention to this inn! You know what is at stake!”
“You cannot deny what is beyond the human realms. Faebel is real; we live on the border between it and the Provinces. Do not lie to yourself, Father. I am Fae!”
“That life is behind us now. You never were a Fae, nor will you ever be! You know nothing of the perils that lie beyond human society. Do not seek out the Fae. Your true self is a Daughter of Trilth. As a Daughter of Trilth, you are a fighter for the freedoms of her people, all her people. You must be ready for another rebellion. We must all be ready. The day when every villager will be free is coming fast.” Rune replied.
“Father, you know I believe in those things. I do believe in a better Trilth. And I will help you to end the tyranny of the Six. But that does not mean that I have to compromise the person I am! I, like my mother before me, am a Fae, whether you like it or not!“ said Flair, storming back into the inn with the force of a raging storm.
The broad shouldered Rune of Rag stopped for the briefest of moments, staring at a point just beyond the forest. A tear fell from the seemingly aged man’s eye. It splashed to the ground in a pool of broken promises.

Chapter Three
“How do you know my name?” said Liam, confusion evident on his face.
“That is not important right now. Is there someplace private where we can talk?” said the man. Still bewildered, Liam led him to one of his favorite perches in the library. The small room was for the most part closed off. Books were stacked high above their heads, which blocked sound within the room. The musty smell of old tomes permeated the premises.
“Who are you?” Liam said as the man sat down in a comfortable armchair.
“I am Cailen of Trask, and my friends and I have come from a long way away. The thing is, we need your help to get back.”
“Why me? I’m only sixteen, and I’ve got no legs.”
“You, like us, are not of this world. These humans that you have lived with most of your life, you were never meant to be among them. We.... you and I.... were never meant to live among them.” With that last remark, Cailen’s voice trailed off wistfully.
“Dude, what the hell are you smoking? I am from around here; my parents and I live just down the block. Despite my physical...problems; I like to think that I am human. Even if many of my peers would beg to differ. You need to go talk to someone, here have some cash for a bus fare.” Liam said, pulling money from his wallet and stuffing a wad into Cailen’s hand.
Wheeling away as fast as he could, the flustered youth waved to the librarian, a bearded man, as he went past.
“I’ve got Pandora’s Key, that book you ordered, Liam!”
“Thanks, Ray, I’ll pick it up when I come back later in the week.” With this, Liam burst through the double doors into the re-emerging sunlight.
Ray, the librarian, fixed his spectacles on the bridge of his crooked nose. He brushed off his tweed jacket, pretending to busy himself. Cailen brushed passed him, a look of tested determination on his face.
“Have you found what you’re looking for, sir?” Ray asked, startling the preoccupied man.
“No, thank you, I don’t need a book.”
“I wasn’t talking about a book, sir.” replied the librarian, his silver eyes flashing brilliantly.
“Wha.... well...I er-“
“Don’t worry, you will, even if you have to use young, ignorant boys in the process.” Ray said snidely.
“How? How could you-... You have no idea what you’re talking about, old man.”
“Perhaps. Tell me, sir, are you familiar with Greek Mythology?” “You’re just a crazy old man, I don’t have time for this.”
“On the outside, I may appear to be a little cooky, but if there’s anything I’ve learned in all my years, it is that things are not what they appear. Just understand this, what you are about to do with that boy may affect the fate of more than one world. Perhaps you have been running from your past. One day, you will have to face it, whether in this world or the next. Good day.” Ray replied, retreating back into his shrouded office.
“That’s what you think. I just want to get back home.” Cailen muttered, wondering what that conversation had really been about.
When Cailen exited the library, he caught sight of Liam, some ways off, sitting stock-still. Nearing the teenager, the older man looked to the point where he was staring. Cailen glimpsed two forms sitting beside each other on a bench. A girl and boy about Liam’s age were well engrossed with one another. Their lips slipped in and out of each other’s, and they both seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. Even from a hundred feet away, both Liam and his companion could feel the intensity emanating from the pair. The scent brought back painful memories for Cailen. He winced and looked away.
“See that girl on the left, there?” Liam said, speaking with dark deliberation.
“Yea, she’s quite attractive.”
“Well, obviously he thinks so too. I thought...I thought that maybe I’d have the slightest sliver of a chance to be with her. You know, I was thinking of asking her to this dance a week from now. I’ve lived in this town my whole life, and never have I met a person that could even begin to understand what I go through. All they do is go through their lives, ignoring those of us that are misfits; that are outcasts. I thought that maybe, however slim of a chance it was, that she could one day understand, one day truly get to know me. I guess not, I guess that she’s just like all the rest. I am destined to be alone in this world.” Liam began to wheel away in disgust, a look of terrible understanding dawning on his still youthful features.
“Maybe in this world. You are right, she could never understand. That is because she is one of them. She could never be with you, could never be like you. She is not your kind. This is not where you belong.” came a whisper from Cailen in Liam’s ear.
“Then show me where I do belong.”

Chapter Four
The night enveloped the valley in which the village of Livercoal nestled. The clouds had begun to disappear earlier that evening, and the stars and moon twinkled far off in the distance. Isolated lights spread throughout the small town, as people began to settle in for the night. Occasionally, a car’s headlights would pass through Main Street coming home from the city of Philadelphia.
Ebony navigated her way through one of the unlit portions of the town, her weathered hiking boots crunching over gravel. The territory was all coming back to her, the old abandoned coalmines from a stolen childhood. The young woman of about eighteen adjusted the rifle she cradled in her arms, still getting used to carrying a weapon. She wished she knew where she was going.
Silently cursing herself for the twelfth time that day, she collapsed near a rocky outcropping in exhaustion. She had been tracking them for far too long. She would end it tonight. She froze suddenly, her acute sense of smell picking up a familiar, almost canine, scent. Tying her golden hair behind her head in a tight bun, Ebony rose and followed the smell.
Soon, voices could be heard from inside one of the coalmine shafts.
“Your blood, even this tiny drop, will open the Bridge to Faebel. Soon, we shall all be home, our true home.” said a voice that made Ebony’s chest churn and her pace quicken.
Glimpsing the elevator that led to the scent, the girl leapt onto it, and pressed the rusty button that activated the downward motion. As the rickety device shuttled down to the subterranean mines, Ebony locked and loaded her weapon adjusting its useful silencer, her emerald eyes glazing over with a mounting hatred. Exiting the elevator as it came to a halt at the entrance of a hallway, the young woman sprinted towards the flickering lights of torches that came from the left of the tunnel.
She dashed into a cave that opened out of the hallway. Ebony stopped for a moment to take in the scene before her. A group of grizzled men and women slightly older than her in battered leather jackets stood around in a circle, watching two figures in the center face an object that was built against the east wall. A boy in a wheelchair and another man in leather watched the wall with fascination. Two pillars of stone at each end of the long wall supported a third that lay all the way across them.
Someone had just thrown a small cup of blood in the center of the pillars, and the wall seemed to shimmer. What looked to be water began to ripple in the space between the pillars, and the assembled gasped in awe. Ebony could just make out the boy in the wheelchair turn a light shade of pale, and realized he had never been a witness to the power of the Tap before.
Getting a hold of her faculties, Ebony carefully aimed at one of the assembled men’s heads. She hesitated, and pointed the gun at his leg instead. She pulled the trigger. He went down with blood spilling onto the ground, yelling in agony. The cave became a scene of pandemonium after that. The man in the center next to the boy pushed the wheelchair safely into a corner, as the boy looked on at the chaos in horror.
“Ebony.” said Cailen, his body visibly softening, all former signs of tension passing away.
“You just made your last mistake, on any plane of existence.” replied Ebony, her eyes blazing madly. Raising the rifle level to Cailen’s curly head, she fired, this time without hesitation. Cailen dodged with supernatural agility. The bullet hit the watery air that surrounded the pillars, sending a ripple through it.
“Brothers, Sisters...to the Bridge, there is nothing left for us here.” cried Cailen, stepping backwards so that he was close to the rippling air. As the group who had been assembled grabbed their fallen comrade and lined up alongside Cailen, he turned towards Ebony.
“I...I...-“ he was cut short by Ebony raising her gun threatingly again. With that, Cailen snarled, revealing inhuman incisors. He turned back to the Bridge with a deliberate motion. Suddenly, he and his group of leather-clad men and women had stepped through the rippling air, and disappeared. The wall rippled momentously, and then returned to shimmering serenely. Slamming her fist angrily against the wall, Ebony knew that she had failed. She had let them escape her grasp for the second time.
“Wha...what just happened?” stuttered the boy in the corner, shaking visibly. This was going to take a lot of explaining.

Chapter Five
“You just helped open a portal, a Bridge they call it, to another world.”
“Oh.” said Liam, still trying to cope with the fact that his world was being turned upside down. Portals? It sounded like something out of a book he would read. Mythology was rapidly becoming his reality.
“Now what do we do?”
“There is no we...I have to track them down. Thanks to your blood, they were able to cross the bridge into Faebel, the second plane.”
“Why must we track them down, if it wasn’t for you, I would be in Faebel with them. Who are you anyway, you don’t look like you have a license to carry that thing.”
“My name is Ebony, and if it wasn’t for me you’d be dead by now. See how fast they left you here?”
“Well, maybe. Hey wait a second! I thought I recognized you! From elementary school, two grades above me. I didn’t know you were called Ebony, though. I haven’t seen you in years, I heard your Dad got a position somewhere up in Northern Pennsylvania, how is he?”
“Dead.” replied Ebony without emotion. She tested the wall of energy, prodding it with her finger.
“I’m sorry to hear that. What are you doing back here though, and how do you know about all this mumbo jumbo crap?” said Liam, attempting to avoid a sore spot.
“A little bundle of questions, aren’t we? Why don’t you just go home to your Mommy and Daddy and let the adults deal with the mess that you made.”
“Hey! I resent that. I didn’t know it was going to do. I had no idea what Cailen was trying to accomplish. All I know is that I do not belong in Livercoal. I was meant for bigger places...better places.” Liam said.
“You and every other teenager who’s ever lived. Yet nobody else uses their own blood to open a door to another world, sending both those worlds into unknowable chaos that could very well rip the very fabric of the universe.”
“I didn’t know, I was used!”
“We’ve all been used!” shot back Ebony, her emerald eyes blazing.
They both stood there for a few moments, fuming in their respective corners. Ebony continued to poke the unearthly substance with both hands, the rifle slung behind her back.
“D’you have any idea where they might have gone?” said Liam, breaking the angry silence.
“Whenever anyone passes through a Bridge, The Tap, the power that controls them, takes them where they need to go.” “How do you know that?”
“It’s not important.” Ebony said.
“I see. So, how do we follow them?”
“I will follow them through the Bridge. The Tap knows that I’m meant to come out where they came out.”
“I’m coming too then.” replied Liam firmly.
“No, you won’t, this is my task. Mine and mine alone.”
“And it’s not mine? It was my blood that opened the Bridge. According to you, it’s my fault that two worlds will be plunged into chaos. If there’s anything I can do on the other side to make things right, it is my obligation to do so. Besides, there’s nothing better to do around here.”
“Alright, fine, whatever, suit yourself. It’s not my fault if we run into dragons or centaurs and you get trampled, eaten, beaten, or burnt to a crisp.” said Ebony, relenting.
“Dragons?!” said Liam, a mix of terror and delight spreading onto his face. Ebony rolled her eyes, stepping through the liquid like air.
Left all alone in the cave, Liam gave one last look to his surroundings. He didn’t think he’d miss Livercoal too much. Rolling towards the shimmering wall, the boy took a leap of faith.

Chapter Six
Whoa, thought Liam.
Many beings have crossed through the Bridges in ages past. However, none had a more accurate description of what it was like to be sucked into another place or dimension than Liam had right then.
Whoa is just about the only adjective that fits with all the physical and psychological mechanisms that become discombobulated when one goes through a Bridge. Needless to say, “Crossing” is not the most preferred mode of transportation in the universe. Though it is the fastest and most efficient.
Allowing his wheelchair to coast along the ground while he struggled to disentangle his stomach from his brain, Liam breathed in oxygen with great gulps. It felt like he had just been flushed down a toilet. Ebony crouched beside him, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders in wild disarray. Both their breathing was long and heavy for several minutes.
“I’m told it gets easier every time you Cross.” Ebony said, taking stock of their surroundings.
“Are you willing to wager money on that?” said Liam sarcastically, finally opening his eyes for the first time since entering Faebel. Ebony smiled at this, but quickly returned to her somber complexion when she realized that she had let her guard down. Liam could make out that they were in a mining cave similar to the one they had left in Livercoal. Behind them, an identical shimmering wall with stone pillars cast an eerie glow on the pair.
Ebony wasted no time in heading for the cave’s mouth. Liam followed behind her, wondering if any time would have passed when he got back to Livercoal. If he ever got back to Livercoal. Visions of dragons danced in his head. He was beginning to question his sanity about coming with her. The cave’s mouth became visible, as early morning sunlight spilled into the cave.
The two teenagers came out from the cave, soaking in the scene before them. A blue sky spread above, cumulus clouds rising high over their heads. To the west spread a huge forest, assaulted by a brutal winter. Similar mines were scattered around the cave they had just exited, beyond which laid a dirt path. Fog covered structures in the distance, making them appear like black shadows. The sun beat down warmly on the scene. Ebony thought she could smell the slightest hint of approaching spring in the pollen that floated through the air.
“It seems that Faebel is a few hours ahead of Livercoal. A village is just beyond that fog. Maybe we’ll find some answers there.”
“I hope I don’t get Bridge lag.” Liam sagged as his joke showed no impression on his melancholic companion.
They trudged towards the dirt path, neither of them saying anything to the other. Finding the dirt not quite as hard to push his wheelchair on as he had imagined, the boy overtook Ebony. Feeling the exuberance within him grow as the fog enclosed them, Liam accelerated. The two could now make out medium-size stonewalls that rose above them to their left, reminiscent of European castles. A dip in the road appeared before them, seeming to slide into the side of the wall.
As they approached the dip, they soon realized that it marked the entrance to the small-fortified town. Two man-sized towers stood at each end of a portcullis that guarded large wooden doors. Two guards looked down on the travelers from the towers, leaning over the buttresses. The left guard raised an odd looking gun that Liam had never seen the like of before.
“Halt...by order of the Prefect of Trilth! Market day is not till next Thursday! What is your business here?” he cried, exercising what little power he had.
“Um...we come in peace?” Liam called. Ebony thumped him hard across the shoulder, not amused.
“We are travelers from...far away.... we need to speak to someone of authority in your fair village of Trilth.” she said.
“Are you tax collectors, because all our citizens paid up last month. A high price to pay, I might add.”
“No...we just need to talk to someone important.”
“You know...guards are important too. Without us, the town of Trilth would be left-“
“Shut up...if we were really that important, don’t you think they’d pay us more?” retorted the guard from the right tower. This sent both guards into a heated discussion about the ails of common folk like them.
Without fanfare, the portcullis rose and the two double doors opened. Two similar guards stepped through, beckoning to Ebony and Liam to come through. Clad in chain mail armor that reminded the boy of tales of the round table, the guards led them down a cobblestone path. To their left and right were Tudor houses that seemed to be thrown together by a small child. It was like walking through an amusement park ride.
Townspeople dressed in clothing that belonged in the Middle Ages scurried to and fro. Banners hung from the tiled roofs, primarily bearing the golden sword hilt of Trilth. The hilt’s guards stretched to either side of the banners, as the hilt and pommel rose above them. One of the guards, seeing them staring at the heraldry, hoisted his gun above his shoulder.
“The two handle guards below the hilt represent the balance of the Prefect and the Six. The six are the noblemen who elect and advise the Prefect. Though, really the Prefect rules Trilth. The hilt that rises above the two guards represents Order that rises above all. If you look carefully you can see the word order etched into the pommel. See, the motto of Trilth is: Order above all. Wilmo’s my name, by the way.” He said, stretching out a gloved hand. The boy and girl introduced themselves to the middle aged man, soaking in the sights and sounds of a bustling village.
“Order above all,” smirked the second guard, “whoever heard of such an obvious ploy to control the masses. It doesn’t work very well, though. Last month we had our third rebellion of the season.”
“Now see here, Bolrick, the Prefect and the other noblemen have our best interests at heart. That is why we both signed up to protect this beautiful beacon of civilization.” replied Wilmo, his skinny frame emphasizing his words theatrically.
“I’ve got to go tell Brice, the Captain of the Guard, that you are here. He might know what to do.” Wilmo said, dashing ahead of them. The other guard, Bolrick stopped, motioning them to as well.
“So this is Faebel.” said Liam out loud to himself.
Whoa, he thought.

Figure Eights

2006-07-17T21:16:00.000-04:00

Dear Brothers.....and Sisters,

Whoa. This last week has been....its felt like God just throwing four trains at each side of my brain and just crushing all my former assumptions and expectations about life....it was just.......whoa..........God is good....and again....as I've said like fitty times before....he is awesome

So ok....I went to a week long camp at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, Maryland to do college admission stuff (which included SAT Prep, College Application creation, Essay for Application writing etc....) This all went very well, I was able to go away from my house...and my parents...and be independent and...outgoing to peeps my own age that I had met just a week before. Pretaining to colleges, I have a better idea of what type of Uni I'd like to go to: a small-medium- liberal arts college that is near a large town like white plains. This way, its a campus and community feel...so all the other kids know me...and its sorta like a Fellowship kinda deal. (Also you get more individual attention from the professors) So on that front it went awesome...and I haven't even gotten to the spiritual part yet....

The first day I was a little nervous and apprehensive...because I haven't been away from home longer than 6 days....and like three years ago. I sit down at lunch with this dude....and before he even starts eating....he prays over his food....and it was like God was telling me: you were meant to be here...I want you to be here. So from then on I just tried to be outgoing...and introduced myself to everyone on the first day. Another kid and I got really close in about five seconds....and we already felt a bond....like brothers (another thing that was really cool was that almost everyone there was Christian of some breed.....like not kidding....even the frikken dude who drove the bus to some colleges was a Christian.....)

To parrellel the conflict occuring in the Middle East as we speak (pray for Isreal and for God's protection of his holy city where he will come for the second coming)...our little group of twenty seven gals and guys had a little strife. I'm not really sure...but some white kids from Westchester (sorry to make stereotypes..but we all know its true) were picking on this kid who looked kinda arab (he wasn't..from Bangledesh....for all u history rejects...thats near India and Pakistan)(and he was a really cool kat by the way).....and this dude that I got really close to got really involved in it...and tried to calm the tensions (he's that sorta guy..always helping...helped me a shit load of times during the week....again the Lord provides)...but all he ended up doing was riling himself up..so I talked to him and told him what kind of people are from Westchester (not all of you....I just enjoy bitching about life in the Hills)...and then b/c God is like this: those same girls who were........ to the other dude....come up to my room that night.....bring me pizza from the pizza party...then hang out w/ just my freind and me and help me w/ my chair.....so God was really able to humble me (So they showed that they were not "westchester")

So coming back from College Visits the next day (long ride like an hour) this brother that I got really close to.....just begins to weep...but not b/c of anger and pain.....but because of joy....he apparently got so riled up that one of the teachers (a christian) pulled him aside (Andrew (the dude) said that he felt like he was gonna die....like..for a good cause...b/c I had just told him about what was going down in Isreal...and w/ all this tension at the camp we all thought the world was ending (didn't even hear about the TORNADO IN WESTCHESTER......SIGNS OF THE TIMES ANYONE?)....and this teacher told him about how when Frodo (in Lord of the Rings for all you conformists who need to know about this stuff) went with the ring....he wasn't the strongest or the fastest or the most able to save the world....but he was the most humble.....he was the most giving....(I hope I told it right...correct me if I'm wrong Andrew....)

So he starts crying and saying what an inspiration I've been to him (and I'm not gonna get into that...b/c I don't want to come across as egotistical and self-seeking) (essentially he just told me for a peep in my situation to have such joy...was cool) but he was sobbing...and I was like....no no no....its not me....its God whose given me the grace to do that. The reason why I'm so happy is that I've got Awesome Abba to tap into.....so we prayed...and I prayed for Isreal...which I think he needed to...after he was "staring down his demons". But I mean....whoa......in telling me that it really blessed me....and this kid has such a helping heart...and he tried to tell me that b/c he saw that joy in me he wanted to give it to other people ....but I know it wasn't just me...and it all didn';t happen that week....but....a girl there asked me why he was so nice.....and he is...and as I told him.....I'm blessed to have him as a brother.....

Anyway.....before you accuse me of being a fruit....that night we had a service in my room with him and another brother......another dude that has a heart for helping people....and a teacher came in and prayed with us..and we read the bible.....read Psalm 24 and John (whole book) again if you get the chance..the teacher was reading this passage in John, where Jesus tells the diciples: "I have prepared a place for you"...and all my worry about getting into the right college..and it being the perfect fit just washed away...because I know God has prepared a place for me....as he prepared a place for me last week.....whoa.....I mean...so much stuff goin on last week that I can't remember it all to post it in a blog (see previous post....has a poem about Andrew in it- lol....he said I was a "breath of fresh air"......its God)

Ok...now that all this self-congratulating has gone to my head....

This is David,
Signing off

PRAY FOR ISREAL IN HER TIME OF NEED....THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS AT HAND

I love you all so much
God Bless
Psalmer

Hands that Burn Down the Mountains

2006-07-17T13:53:00.000-04:00

Breath Burn

A breath of fresh air,
But it wasn’t you at work there,
Awesome Abba was doing his thing,
You were just frightened Frodo with the ring,
Strength in your meekness,
Light shining through bleakness,
You helped to ignite a burn,
G_d send you to learn,
Something special would happen,
With new Brothers; Father helped you do some tappin’,
You asked and he gave,
In his essence you bathe,
He listens to all your woes,
And sends you signs that make you tremble to your toes,
His love endures,
We are shielded from Satan’s lures,
Abba sends us where we were meant to be,
We apples fall from his great and loving tree...

Wednesday Woes

2006-06-21T22:52:00.000-04:00

Stain-ed Rain-bow

The fear always comes at night,
The loneliness clenches tight,
When all seemed to have left,
My joy is stolen in a nocturnal theft,
Despite all the walls that fall,
Frustration crawls back at the moon’s call,
And all I see is ashes and dust,
Or those that I do not fully trust,
For it seems I haven’t really had anyone,
To place their head on my shoulder before each rising sun,
Every day feels harder and longer,
Every moment feels as though I’m getting more somber,
Nothing is here to quench my thirst,
Any direction I take looks to be cursed,
I fear I will not take the coming weeks,
I still haven’t found my own clan of geeks,
Whomever I turn to is either gone or too afraid,
My only choice is into the sun fade....

-Psalmer

"Where'd you Go?"

2006-06-20T20:59:00.000-04:00

For Tribe I Have Cried

It’s Tuesday night,
Yet I haven’t heard you sing in what seems like ages,
You haven’t been there to calm my fright,
To pray for me in my confusion and rages,
I haven’t felt the warmth of your hugs,
Lost is your laugh of yesteryear,
We’ve been torn to and fro by the world and her tugs,
And I remember you and from my eye trickles a tear,
They say you don’t know what you got,
Until it’s gone,
When you loved me all my pain I forgot,
God’s providence truly shone,
I didn’t even get to say goodbye,
Now your gone with the wind,
I smile and pray for you with a sigh,
I will never forget the way your praise captivated me as you singed...

Pebble Picking

2006-06-18T20:49:00.000-04:00

Dear Brothers and Sisters (YEY ;)) in Christ,

It's been an interesting journey this year, I have to admit. Yet I believe Abba is answering many of the prayers that I have prayed this year. Everytime I'm lonely, sad, depressed, enraged, or disallusioned, he comes to me and comforts me. I believe that these times are "like the stillness in the wind before the hurricane begins" to quote Bob Dylan. The theme of these last months and weeks has been Providence. The L_rd has provided for me....and he will never leave me....NEVER FORSAKE ME!!!!

So....unfortunatly I was forced to leave that Science Research Program at my school because I could not find a mentor (guide/proffessor) in my topic. I had been furiously looking, and praying that G_d would find a way...but it was not to be. Though the teacher was really good about it, she told me that even though one door may be closing, others are opening. She and I discussed my writing and the fact that I should publish over the summer. I plan to write my novel, a short story (to submit), and also atleast one poem a day. (pray for me that these goals happen)

I really feel that that teacher is right though, I can see it in other areas in my life too. Tonight we had Chinese take-out at my house, and obeying the laws of the church of the first fortune cookie (lol...this is a joke...don't crucify me) and read my "fortune": "No matter what your past been, you have a spotless future". THANK YOU ABBA!!!!! Take my social life (yes I actually have one now...it is no longer a figment of my imagination....bye bye Bo-Bo -sniff- -sniff-) I asked G_d to provide me a Christian fellowship (group of friends that are sooo close they family) at my school. PROVIDENCE!!!! G_d is so faithful. So now all these people have come up through the cracks just in the last year. From new people coming into our school who are really charismatic christians to people who have found their Messiah in these past months- its just like G_d is gathering stones into his slingshot like that little dude...what was his name? (lol...check out my poem: "Brewing Doing" if you want a lil more exposition on that) Then I'm sad last wkend (b/c I was doing sod all in town) and I go into the pizza place to watch the Soccer (GO ENLGAND) and all the guys in there are sooo nice to me, they give me free food, and just talk to me, and I've been there everyday this week...and I dunno..I can feel alot of love emanatin' (think I spelt that wrong) from that place...and I and them have become really good freinds.... anyway....I really feel that the L_rd is gathering people....its really cool what's going on....what has been going on...what is yet to go on....

Even when I've been really down (like in the last week I've been really uber-manic) G_d has just been there for me. I was gettin' a lil angry about my.....condition......on Saturday...and yelled at Abba that line from Switchfoot's song, Golden: "Like freedom in the spring" ....because I'd like freedom in the spring....and all o a sudden this robin zooms by.....

"The rain on my chest like a baptism" Dark Knight, Dark Knight Returns
I'll leave that where the thought ended.
"I can't think of anything else to say"- Pink Floyd

Just know that G_d is good and G_d is faithful

And I love you all so much
Keep the Faith
Fight the Good Fight
-Psalmer

Piercing Providence

2006-06-18T18:51:00.000-04:00

So these two poems I wrote during Night Light into Sunday Service this week:

Liberation Elation

My liberation comes with the springtime,
Departing frustration comes with Abba’s soothing rhyme,
I cry to all the heavens and he answers,
He places sevens over my spiritual cancers,
When I pray he gives gifts gladly,
He makes me joyous through my day as I seek his nourishment madly,
As I lay I can feel his presence and draw closer to his ethereal love,
He sends me among the searching peasants; through him I end conflicts like a white dove,
In his name I place my faith; I bask in his glory,
He tramples every wraith of fear in my triumphant story,
He sends me angels that calm my restless ways,
I am his watchful ranger roaming the earth during these last days,
I feel the day of the lord is at hand as they fires are being built,
Yet I know no fear for his love is like a beach filled with sand; I grab my spiritual sword from its Golden hilt,
For I know that Jeshua is real and nothing will take away my joy,
His disciples are here to heal; through him I am more than just a mere boy...

Brewing Doing

This is the silence
Before the tempest

Here begins the defiance
We stand among lions like Daniel during the den test

They wish us to surrender
They seek to push us into a corner

Smiling as we’ve cowered like helpless kender
Yet we have cast off the demons of our former

God is gathering SoulStones
Into a humble slingshot

We have been sent to cast the idols from their blasphemous thrones
We are called to be righteous and faithful like King Lot

We gladly await the day of second coming
Yet we continue in our Godly calling

For the lost; Abba is summoning
We’ve been sent to put an end to all this senseless brawling

So follow my sisters and brothers
Let us begin this spiritual storm...

GlimmerHope

2006-06-11T22:36:00.000-04:00

Finger Singers

Two girls sit serenely on sidewalks,
Speaking through silence; uttering no words,
While you’ve become tired of this town and its countless mocks,
You’ve always been different; never a part of them and their cliques or herds,
These ones understand your anguish and pain,
The way the world has you discarded,
The world that says she’s tolerant and then leaves you out in the rain,
Putting you in a box labeled “retarded”,
But it seems these are two bridges I was not meant to build,
They have already found their clan,
You are by yourself and hate-filled,
It looks like its gonna get worse for you; young man,
But when you sat by the mute maidens,
You saw something that you had forgotten,
Stripped away by the grasps of Satan,
You left that feeling thinking life would always be rotten,
You had no idea how to talk with them,
Yet they still listened,
In this fast-paced world that talent is a gem,
Something seldom done since you were christened,
Love communicated through silence,
Something that if spoken would quickly fade,
Something that seemed to calm your internal rage and violence,
Beyond those things bound by what humanity has made,
An understanding breaking down all barriers,
A feeling that you have not yet fully felt,
For you’ve always been among the baggage carriers,
Until you’ve been bogged down to such a point that your heart felt as though it would melt,
Then you bade them farewell,
It’s likely you’ll never see them again in this life,
There goes your frustration rushing up a stairwell,
Why does this isolation of mine fill me with such strife?
I’m tired of this,
I can’t take this solitude,
When it feels like something is just beginning to pull me from the abyss,
I slip and fall back down into a place where I curse and become crude,
For I heard the most beautiful music,
It is the music that travels along fingertips,
A more spiritual force could not be played using a pick,
And for a moment the pain is no longer so bad under the unrelenting whips....

Closed Gates

2006-06-10T15:38:00.000-04:00

A Thousand

You want to sing a thousand songs,
You want to die a thousand deaths,
You want to right a thousand wrongs,
You want to laugh a thousand jests,
You want to build a thousand bridges,
You want to dry a thousand tears,
You want to sow a thousand stitches,
You want to quell a thousand fears,
You want to see a thousand lights,
You want to run on a thousand roads,
You want to end a thousand fights,
You want to crack a thousand codes,
You want to see a thousand shores,
You want to hear a thousand words,
You want to open a thousand doors,
You want to fly beside a thousand birds,
You want to free a thousand slaves,
You want to taste a thousand tastes,
You want to cause a thousand waves,
You want to help a thousand “wastes”,
You want to pray a thousand prayers,
You want to leave a thousand bags,
You want to forget a thousand cares,
You want to discard a thousand rags,
You want feel a thousand creams,
You want to grin a thousand grins,
You want to a have a thousand hugs,
You want to repent a thousand sins,
You want to drink a thousand mugs,
You want to kiss a thousand lips,
You want to dream a thousand dreams,
You want to sail a thousand ships....

Prayer Flare

2006-06-08T23:40:00.000-04:00

"Let it Rain..."

Sheep Gazing, Deeply Amazing

Here it comes,
I see the sadness receding,
The heat pulsing through my cracked thumbs,
Yet it seems the darkness is ever impeding,
So I pray that you, my father, would wash it all away,
That these days will be last in the winter of my discontent,
For I wish not to be caught up in the meaning less high school fray,
I’m still wondering where all this time went,
I’m looking forward,
Yet happy in the place I was called,
No longer hiding behind glasses, books, and a hood,
Watching this world fall; appalled,
Scanning the hopeful horizon,
Like that shepherd boy playing his lone harp on a hilltop,
God once heard his cries and,
Came to his aid and was his rock,
Even when he one day strayed,
And as he fell to his knees in despair,
Angels of heaven were not far and they prayed,
Until he felt Abba’s mercy from his strongest tendon to the weakest fiber in his hair,
I pray for my deliverance from this world that is caving,
I ask that your sons and daughters you would forgive,
Souls I pray to be constantly saving,
Thats what it truly means to live...

Flowin' Poem

2006-06-07T23:12:00.000-04:00

All the poetry I wrote today (yes....I know....I feel like I have forty-two personalities):

Thankful Anticipation

God, you rock,
The patient shepherd watching over his flock,
Even when I stray into the lion’s den,
You ignite in me a fire that flows through my pen,
Even when I lose the sight,
You open your arms wide and do not cease to invite,
Life is a never-ending mystery,
Through, you, God I can clearly see,
There is no spoon,
You put in me a joyous tune,
That cannot be brought down,
Not even by the gossip in this town,
I will never be bitter,
Even though I may jitter,
For I know I am in my chosen place,
You teach me to be patient; that slow and steady wins the race,
Despite my broken road,
Despite my heart that often feels like it will explode,
You bring my smile back,
Even when I haven’t quite got the knack,
I pray for more of your sovereign love,
That you will hatch in my heart the serene dove,
True “Hakuna Matata”,
Though I feel the end days growing hotta,
I do not truly see your full scope,
I still often grope,
About petty matters,
Putting my ear to the relentless chatter,
I care too much for the things of this world,
I know my true potential is still curled,
Hear my cry,
Make me the most humble of guy,
For I couldn’t last without your mercy,
And still I am constantly thirsty,
Show me who to comfort,
Help me pick myself up from the dirt,
So I pray that you lift me up,
That I would drink from your overflowing cup,
For you are first,
Even when I feel I’m cursed,
I know you are already by my side,
Because of you, I never have to hide....

Complacent in Mom’s Basement

I plan to write a poem,
I do not know what it will be about,
Maybe I’ll write in one of many eclectic forms.... except I don’t know ‘em,
Perhaps I shall write a masterpiece.... except I have all this self-doubt,

Instead I’ll write a book,
With complicated storylines,
With many dazzling and intricate characters.... except I wither with every doubter’s look,
Or what about one about a malignant ring... except I won’t be able to afford all the copyright fines,

I know- I’ll write a song,
Something that nobody has thought of before,
That has an amazing electric guitar riff... except that would mean I have to stop smoking the bong,
It’ll have cool electronic beeps.... except I have just one more glass of vodka to pour,

Yes- I’ll write a play,
Like a truly modern Shakespeare,
Snazzy dialogue zipping back and forth... except that would be the hard way,
Costumes lighting up the stage.... except I never makes’ it off my rear,

I keep saying to myself that I shall do these things,
That I will one day make something of me,
...Except I never have bothered to spread my wings,
I will never know what it means to be free...

Pariah Choir

How come every time I regain my joy?
The devil comes at me with a vengeance,
Why do I have to be the lonesome boy?
They can’t see through my chair; it doesn’t make sense,
Yet I know I don’t speak the truth,
Some do see passed my disease,
Yet I seem to be struggling claw-by-claw; tooth-by-tooth,
So I know these days are mine to seize,
And yeah, they could become my friends,
But they will never see me as their equal,
Yet you never know what will come around one of these bends,
But they don’t know who will inherit the earth: the meek will,
I will never have someone else’s head resting on my shoulder,
Indeed I am going around in circles,
Yet with every happiness followed by depression I feel colder,
I feel I must hide my head like those lonely turtles,
So God I ask,
That you bring me my joy again,
In your loving kindness I wish to bask,
For with them I’m only beggin’,
None of them could possibly understand,
Even my brothers seems to have left,
I have no clue of where to land,
My words fall on ears that appear to be deaf,
I’ve never known a brother or sister that hasn’t been distant,
All my bridges seem to be falling,
My repair crews are always met with resistance,
They all say that the place I am is supposed to be appalling,
I can’t seem to properly look on the bright side,
I always seem to see the bleak,
I have nobody here with me that is a guide,
I wish I could constantly stay on the highest peak,
For I’m always crashing,
I haven’t found what I’m looking floor,
I’ll never be among the handsome or dashing,
I always seem to be facing a slamming door...

Rockin' Dichotomy

2006-06-02T23:18:00.000-04:00

Out with the old:

The Lost Hope
-The Crane

Every time I sit down to write,
I write about you,
But I’m gonna fight the urge with all of my might,
Even if I have to hold my breath until I turn Blú,
So I won’t even mention you with the most vague of metaphors,
I won’t even talk about other people; when I’m really talking about you,
Because every time we Cross paths it feels I’m just crashing into closing doors,
I keep on waiting for the sunset to take on a different hue,
I keep on wishing the birds would fly in a different direction,
That I’d finally be able to truly find you,
That when I gaze into a mirror I’d see more than just my own ugly and selfish reflection,
Instead I wake up to a world that is constantly unjust and eschew,
I try to find other things to preoccupy my mind,
So I try to be content with just watching you,
Yet as our eyes lock manacles constrict and bind,
They say I’ve sinned, so I went to confess in the pew,
And I felt God for a few fleeting moments of uninhibited flame,
But when he left all that was left were bitter memories of you,
Nothing in this life has ever left me feeling so lame,
And I feel rage felt only by a select few,
A rage that bubbles up inside like some kind of beast,
That won’t rest until he has you,
My mind won’t stop until his incessant howling has ceased,
The roaring inside my head just grew,
And I haven’t been able to stop writing,
Anger that was sparked by thoughts of you,
The voices that torment my temple have not stopped fighting,
I wish I could begin this all again anew,
But it seems I must let you be,
Even though no mortal’s beauty could compare to you,
I must have contentment; and that will set me free,
Yet none of the answers I’ve learned seem to be true....

In with the new:

Field of Queens

Lights dimmed low on a Friday night,
Rain and thunder rule as my chestfire begins to ignite,
Soaking spectators set sights on soccer,
Safe; no stains from the world or the deceptive mocker,
Youthful valkyries dart like beacons of hope,
Sparking joy in my heart before I fall into the dark slope,
When I was down,
They crowded round,
While one of their own has been felled,
They come to their aide; my frustration can’t help but be quelled,
Even when I fall into jealousy and self-pity,
But then you girls come and they’re are friends filling up my once lonely city,
You all share a unique gift,
You build bridges to this human rift,
Lady listeners,
Healing ministers,
I thank the heavens that we are all friends,
For because of you; I’m sure all my wounds will mend....

-Beloved

"Talkin' 'Bout My Generation"

2006-05-17T21:48:00.000-04:00

Freinds...countrymen....lend me your ears!

(I didn't start this post with Dear Brothers....because I have people who are not a part of the male species...so I would not wish to exclude them...so I'm not gonna say to Brothers anymore...unless its something to do with guy talk (bom bom bom ba-dum bom bom ;))

Anyway...how is everyone doing? I hope we're doing alright....I've been up and down and all around....took my AP US History exam about two weeks ago...I feel pretty confident about it....but we'll see in July when I get my grade.....and last week I took my SATs for the first time...and I was sick (bleagh) so I'm really not confident about that...but hey.....come September....I can take it again....second chances are always a good thing.....lol....nvm........and other than that school is going pretty well......so yeah.....

Tommorow....my blog will have been in existense for a year. Happy First Birthday Phoenix Beacon! It's been a heaven of a year...lol....the fastest year that I have seen go passed....freshman and sophomore year dragged their feet soooo much...but this year...it was like...September......May.....YYYEEYYY.....it's been....an interesting Journey....voyage....it's probably been my easiest and my hardest year all at the same time.....the one with the most freinds...but also the one that I've felt the most lonely....the year that I've become really comfortable around girls....and also the year that I blubber and crash into things around them too...the hardest year academically....but also the year where I fell....hard....but where I picked myself up....
"Why do we fall, Master Bruce....So we can get back up...Alfred!"

To use a cliched Dicken's saying...it was the best of times, it was the worst of times! It's definetly been one heaven of a ride. So...to commemerate this blog's first birthday....I've decided to have....yup....you guys guessed it.......ANOTHER RANT!!! YESSSSS!!!!

So here goes: When I took my SATs....shhh...don't tell them I'm telling you the essay question...college board will come find me....Big Brother is watching.....anyway....it asked "are people who make the decisions in their lives, or is it their situations and society?" kind of a nature vs. nurture thing. And I had already been thinking about society's influence on us. (We're reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest in English class...so yea....connections!!!) That got me thinking about my current generation......those that are within five years of me....both ways....and....I don't know. One word keeps on popping up in my head about my peers and others our age around the world....especially in America. You see, what annoys me most about those that are around me....usually...is the faults that I see in myself....sides of myself that I truly hate....that I wish to get rid of....so this is probably a product of that self-criticism...but it's Apathy. I mean, every generation before us has had a purpose....a reason....a cause....but now that we live in relative prosperity...for now....and we live in Westchester.....and most people agree with most other people on most everything....the biggest cause is whether we'll get to see American Idol tonight. I mean, there's no......I dunno....fire.........maybe it's because I'm a teenager...and I hang around teenagers most of the time (theoretically)..but it's like....they always seem to be talking about....other people's lives, or tv shows (scifi=0), or something to do with sex...like ooooo I like him sooo much...or hes soooo hot....and its like WAKE THE FRACK UP PEOPLE! WAKE UP DAVID....PICK YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR OSTRICH HOLE....AND GO HELP SOMEBODY....GO FIGHT FOR WHAT YOU BELIEVE IN....(SOMETHING OTHER THAN FEMALES OR MALES) WAKE-UP PEOPLE....THE WORLD'S ABOUT TO GO TO WAR....AND YOUR WORRIED THAT SOME DIPSTICK GOT KICKED OFF AMERICAN IDOL....I MEAN HEELLLLOOO...ANYONE HEAR BOUT THE DA VINCI CODE...I MEAN...IT SEEMS OUR WHOLE SOCIETY IS ABOUT KNOCKING PEOPLE....THINGS DOWN....EVERYTHING....NO MATTER WHAT THE BELIEFS ARE....O...YOUR GAY.....OOO...YOUR WEIRD.....LETS MAKE FUN OF YOU (I'M GUILTY OF IT TOO)...OOO....CHRISTIANITY.....OOO...LETS MAKE UP SOME GARBAGE AND WRITE A BADLY WRITTEN BOOK ABOUT JC AND MARY HOOKIN UP...OOO.....SCANDAL....OOOO....SHOCK HORROR.....JESUS AND OPRAH? OOOOO.....LETS JUST BE SO COMPLETELY PC AND SYNICAL THAT WE LOOSE ALL TOUCH WITH HUMANITY!!!
whoah....don't kno where that came from...anyway...I dunno...its like...every generation had their fight.....for centuries it was the clan...the family.....then it was the loss of faith with war in the '20s....the FDR "we'll try something...and if that doesn't work we'll try something else" mentality of the thirties, a clear cut good guy bad guy war during the forties, the civil rights and youth rebellion of the fifties and sixties....the geek/disco movements in the seventies.....the punk rebellion in the 80s....atleast the 90's Generation X had a spokesperson in Cobaine....even if he did.....well......
But now....its just....i go up to people...I feel no connection...its like....hi.....hi....wassup......wassup....ntm.....ntm....end of conversation...or I'm tired....EVEN THE PRINCIPAL OF MY SKOOL SAID THAT TO ME....IM LIKE WASSUP...HES LIKE....TIRED....AND ITS JUST LIKE....UGHH......people just go from class to class...in apathy..or just (ooo..did she see that drool particle roll down my cheek...o dear...she did....ooo...she thinks im an ass)...its just soooo....uggg......frivolous.....
There's just no spiritual feeling...I want that spiritual joy all the time....but I can't feel it...I wanna put a fire in these people...and tell them...hello....WAKEUP....REVELATIONS IS UPON US.....JESUS IS COMING....AND ALL YOU PEOPLE WHO ADDED GOSPELS AND BELIEVED IN ALL THIS CORRUPTION IN THE GOVERNMENT AND WITH IMMORALITY (YES...ALL OF US)...AND THOSE WHO DON'T KNEEL TO THE KING....ARE GONNA BE TRAMPLED..but its just like...'
I go into that school....and the opression is like a prick in my ballon....just PPPPPPPPSSSSSSHHHHHHHTTTTTTTT....u kno? I dunno.....I'll see some of you saturday night.....I invited a freind...dunno if she'll come....we shall see.....

That's all I gotta say about that...
Harbinger

The Leavetaking

2006-04-27T21:28:00.000-04:00

The older leave,
The younger take over,
We must not grieve,
As they disappear behind the shrouded clover,
They pass on the mantle,
As they are freed,
Many doubt we can handle,
We just aren’t made from the same breed,
They seem so happy and carefree,
They pass through the door,
They hand us the key,
These past years seem like such a war,
The changing of the guard,
As the elders go galloping to greener gables,
As flowers blossom in the yard,
The school will be full of sullen; silent tables,
Old friends pass through,
New friends are looking for guidance,
Yet we are still tangled up in the murky blue,
And our distorted defiance,
Yet the ships set sail on the morrow,
And the farewells have already begun,
So our hearts are filled with sorrow,
As their masts disappear behind the sun....

The Beloved Miracle

2006-04-24T22:47:00.000-04:00

I don’t thank you; as I should,
All my prayers up to this point seem so hollow; as if wood,
I want to feel your love constantly cascading,
I’m in the right pool, but I’m still just wading,
Your love is water to my parched heart,
Your love I know will never depart,
You cover me with mercy,
Even when my thoughts aren’t on you with the right fervency,
So I will praise your name on high,
“Till the day I die,
For you give me a willing spirit,
On my soul your mark has been writ,
I’ve grown in the last year,
I’m letting go of all my fear,
Tomorrow I pray that you give me strength,
That I may strive through the whole school’s length,
Without you love and kindness I would be running,
But instead I can feel my healing coming,
Under your banner of white,
Gaining disciples and might,
The enemy will surely be trampled,
All his malicious plans dismantled,
And I will praise you in my prayers,
Send me more souls to be taken into my cares,
I don’t care about the world,
Send me to those who are hiding and curled,
Let me be your bundle of joy,
I am your little glad-iator to deploy,
So I’m still smiling,
While Satan’s minions are still defiling,
And I pray for all the wayward and lost,
I smile as I see all the bridges I have yet to cross,
One brick at a time,
Turning water into wine,
They will see your miracle,
Your loving poetry is vibrant and lyrical,
All the dead and dying in me you have rubbed,
And I am forever your humble Beloved....

Stain Glass Mass

2006-04-08T00:00:00.000-04:00

We think we are baptized and renewed,
Yet our perception is so skewed,
We think we know all the answers,
But really we just find new cancers,
Many search for the truth,
But even the wise are spiritual youth,
We have this idea of rigid rhythm,
So much so that we got lost in this futile schism,
Our so-called differences have set our brothers apart,
We have lost touch with our mind; with our heart,
Saying we are walking the righteous path,
Lost in our delusions of this ethereal math,
We see what we want to see,
Never really seeing the full fee,
We have no idea what we really believe,
So we cling to false hope and grieve,
We can’t see past ourselves,
Can’t see where the kingdom of heaven dwells,
We muddle through this life,
Until we fall under someone’s knife,
We settle with complacency and murky sages,
When really the equations are so simple on destiny’s pages,
So we look; we search,
We then lock ourselves in this denominational church,
Where love is chained and oppressed,
Where our restless hearts never truly rest,
Where the wise men tell us exactly who they think Yahweh was,
Yet all we hear is this babbling buzz,
Then they argue with one another,
And the foundations they built are torn asunder,
Disillusionment seeps through the once revelatory walls,
Everybody tries to see where their going while ignoring the others’ calls,
And they have to find their way alone,
Because all their friends and support are now blown,
And we doubt our faith,
The angels now just seem like faint wraiths,
If the wise can’t even see your love,
Then how can serenity fill this troubled dove?

Litany of Epiphany

2006-04-03T22:42:00.000-04:00

It’s something that comes upon you suddenly. Without warning, the thought dawns on you. The epiphany explodes out of your dormant consciousness. A random flame of empowerment and faith emerges from the murky sea of old wounds and self-doubt. You’ve been doing things wrong all these years.
Before this you were waiting for something. Something to appear as you turned every corner. Someone waiting for you to caress you amidst your troubles and your trials. You were sitting there all your life; wishing it could be better. Praying that things had been different. Wishing that you were better than you were. Smarter than you were. More eloquent than you were. Less hopeless than you were. You’ve gone through your life like a blind bird flying through the darkness and the shadows. You’ve been bashing against the walls, trying to break out of your “cage”. You’ve cried to the heavens, you’ve tried to reach out to other people, and nobody seemed to hear or even care. You started going through life with a chip on your shoulder, bitter, silent, dead. You seemed to accept your lot in life, hoping...wishing.... that it would your life would improve on its own, that things will one day...eventually...work out. You tried to convince yourself into thinking that it was self-imposed seclusion, but you couldn’t hide from yourself for long. You then became an empty shell, embittered with the world, wanting to end all your pain...wanting to end all your sorrow. You shrank away from people. You secluded yourself from contact with others. You conformed to non-conformity. You had hit the bottom. You got so low and so angry that you could not have conceivably gotten any lower. You felt you could do nothing to change your life, could not fix your situation, and you just gave up.
Then, through your disillusionment, through your anger, hope ignited. Hope, that undeniably vibrant emotion. Hope, that quality that is the very core of our humanity. You finally realized...that.... maybe.... just maybe.... you can improve your life.... improve yourself.
You realize that even if you couldn’t help what has happened to you in the past...you can help what happens to you in your future. You see that life may not be fair...but at least its not over. You have the power of choice. You have the power to rebel against your oppressor.... rebel against yourself. You have the power to say your sorry for what you’ve done. You can’t understand how it has taken you this long. You know you have to learn the lyrics to a different song. You understand...finally.... that you can become stronger, become better than who you are. You can change. It doesn’t matter if things may not totally work out exactly the way you planned.... but it doesn’t matter... because at least you tried. The people around you may not react positively to the new you... but you don’t care anymore. They have no power over you. You are you.... you know who you are. The light has flooded into your once dark room.... and you have hope, love, faith.... and serenity...again. You may be battered.... you may become battered.... without a doubt you will get battered.... even more battered than now...but you know you can get through it. You’ve seen it among the tales and stories of mythic heroes that have inspired you all your life. Well.... now it’s your turn to be the hero. You’ve been hiding in the dark...in the shadows too long.
Let the world know who you are. Let the world see the truth. Let the world see the light burning in your beautiful eyes. And yes, they are beautiful, because they are yours. You have the power to overcome this hurdle, whatever it may be. If they laugh, let them laugh. You will grow and mature, and they will stay wallowing in their hog slop. You will become who you were born to be. So fight back. Weather this futile attack. And don’t worry.... you won’t be alone in your daily struggle. So, pick up your sword, and strum the triumphant chord....

The Undiscovered Anguish

2006-03-27T22:23:00.000-05:00

The Undiscovered Anguish

You’re so pretty,
I wish I could be witty,
But when I see your shiny face,
It feels like I just got bashed with a spiked mace,
So I’m wondering how lucky are my dice,
I got them at a hobby shop at a discount price,
They’ve survived me many dungeons,
I hope you don’t mind me sitting next to you at luncheon,
You are such a goddess,
Will you come with me to watch for Nessie at Lochness?
I know I’m a geek,
But at least I don’t reak,
Come over to my house and watch the Trek marathon,
Please come to the next comic book con,
Man, I’ve fallen for your good looks,
It’s worse than they describe in the books,
Every night my heart aches,
You’re like Buffy piercing me with your pointy stakes,
I wonder if you will ever see me; the piece of space trash,
I wish I were roguishly handsome like Solo or Ash,
This must have been what Jabba felt,
Until his love strangled him with that belt,
Yet your Jedi mind tricks work,
And I can’t help but lurk,
You won’t even read this,
I guess that’s the greatest diss,
So I say goodbye for the forty-second time,
I’ll go drown my sorrows in grails of wine,
Maybe tomorrow you’ll pity the poor hobbit,
Or I’ll just fall deeper into the Sarlaac pit,
I will never forget your smile,
I wish I had the Tardiss so I could turn back the dial,
I’ll just have to keep flyin’ all alone in the black...
O Frack!

The Shadow Proves the Sunshine

2006-03-05T20:47:00.000-05:00

WASSUP BRUTHAS?

So...this is just kind of a sequel to my last post. I was really confused about that whole school class thing. So I called Greg (down in Kansas City) to ask him some advice about it. And as soon as I call him he's like...I;m watching this thing by the Veggie Tales about Persistence and fighting even when times get tough. And there was God...again.....the train slamming right into me.....OVER ME....AGAIN! And I just started to smile and laugh. And so I told Greg what was goin' on...and he was like Don't Quit....and I already knew God didn't want me to...so I conceded..finally....after like three days. Then Greg says that its better it happened like this....its like starting over again...only this time its a good thing...because Itll be what I truly want to study and research. He said that I had to come up with a topic that I would be interested in studying....and that suggestions from people wouldn't help. So I prayed about it....and God helped me to find something that I am interested and passionate about. (It deals with Plotline Archetypes...ask if you want detail...haven't fully flushed it out yet.....but I will) And that's why the Shadow Proves the Sunshine...this whole thing this weekend has increased my faith....cuz I prayed to God...I was like...God you gotta prove yoursefl to me...you gotta give me persistence, strength, and hope .....and he did! ABBA Rxrs my Bxrs as we say online. So yea.....Oscars......be on....so I b going...to eat popcorn while watching Soddom & Gammora...but thats another story....

Mountains on the Path

2006-03-05T12:33:00.000-05:00

Hey peoples. Sorry I haven't posted in such a long time. But I'm back....I need some advice/suggestions on two main things (important things this time). Keep praying. Please :)

The first has to do with an extra class I've been taking for about a year and a half now. Its this science research project that goes on for three years of high school, and its this whole self-motivation thing. I don't know why I applied for it in the first place, but thats all in the past now. I've been doing it on Bird Social Communication up to this point. Real exciting, huh? (That's supposed to be a cynical comment....btw) I never really wanted to do that subject...but I kind of let myself get bamboozled into it (I guess thats what I thought the teachers wanted). So I had a meeting with one of the teachers on Friday, and I had done some work, but not enough, because I wasn't really motivated to do it, and I just wasn't into my research. So he was angry at me....and he could tell that I wasn't passionate about my topic...and he thought that maybe it would be better if I either quit the program or do something that I am passionate about (Creative Writing Scientific Research for example) But that would mean starting over at square one a year and a half ago, and I'mnot doing that. And I dunno if it would be time better spent honing my writing skills. Or maybe I'm just being lazy and running away from my problems. I just dunno. And speaking of writing, thats the other thing I've been wanting to talk about...
Today was the third day (during the past couple of weeks) that I tried to write a short story and even though I have ideas for characters and stuff, I just haven't been able to write anything. This has happened with my poetry too, its all become the same content....I whine in my poetry about the same crap over and over again....and It was pissing me off so I stopped writing. I'm not sure if I've lost confidence....I dunno bout anything anymore. Maybe I'm just not being persistent in the right things.

Please Pray
Dave

Midnight Musings

2006-03-02T23:20:00.000-05:00

Samuel

The demon crept up behind him, whispering in a long forgotten language. Its feline-like eyes flickered maniacally in the candlelight. The air seemed to ice over as the demon pressed its disfigured face against the boy’s. The demons’ claws scraped across the wooden table, peeling wood shavings onto the cold floor. Long, yellowing fangs protruded from its mouth. Saliva trickled from the dark one’s mouth, forming a red pool at its victim’s feet. The boy’s eyes shifted back and forth quickly, as if he was trying to contemplate what he was about to do. The demon continued to whisper into the boy’s ear, its forked tongue flicking seductively. A bitter smile crossed the youth’s face, as if what the demon’s words sounded appealed to him. He slowly reached for the revolver that lay in front of him on the table, struggling to pick up the unfamiliar weapon. The demon folded his dark wings and talons around the boy, and it began to chant a haunting chorus. As the chanting strengthened, the boy’s trembling hand moved the revolver to his head. His face began to grow contorted, angry, and lost as the demon smiled viciously. The gun was now aimed directly at his head. From his eye there came a burst of light, casting all the murkiness that had been there before to scatter. Something deep within him began to stir. He remembered a vague memory; the long-lost remnants of a strong feeling. An extremely strong feeling of complete and total warmth came over him. It was like he was being cradled by someone, and they were comforting him. The demon began to scream and chant rapidly, knowing that it was losing the battle. The boy’s eye shone with a light that had been lost in them since he had been born. The boy placed the gun back down on the table, and turned to the frantic demon. “No.” He said quietly but firmly. A being of light appeared on his other, right hand side, its brightness beyond anything of this Earth. The angel’s wings rustled, a sound like that of a thousand harps playing up above in the heavens. His long bright white hair and robes seemed to drift in an ethereal breeze, as he smiled at the human. It was like no other smile the boy had ever seen, that filled with truth, love, and compassion. The demon, upon seeing the angel, gave a shriek of pain and anguish, vanishing back into the shadow realms. “Thank you.” Said the boy. The angel shook his head, saying: “It was not us, it was you.” Rising from his chair, the boy turned to the door behind him. Bowing to the angel, he opened the door that had been behind him. A man walked out the other side.

Football Furies

2006-02-09T17:09:00.000-05:00

So it’s over! The last game has been played. The players have all gone home. The Bus has made his last stop...his home. The Lombardi Trophy is made of steel...for now. (Anyone for Cheddar? ;) The last referee has been taken out back and shot....just kidding. :)
Following the debauchery that was Super Bowl Extra Large, football fans are left disheartened for the future of athletic competitions. Are football games from now on to be decided by little old men wielding little yellow flags? Did legalist zebras clip the Seahawks’ wings? During the first quarter of the Toilet Bowl, the referees called back a touchdown pass from Seahawk’s quarterback, Matt Hassleback (a Favre protégé, I might add ;) to wide receiver Darrell Jackson, stating that there was “offensive pass interference.” Apparently Jackson had “pushed off” Chris Hope, the safety that was defending him. Not only did the refs do this to the already struggling Seattle team, but also later in the “game”, another Seahawk touchdown was called back due to a phantom holding penalty.
To answer the question every gridiron guru asked on Sunday, I believe that even though the Seahawks were handed the short end of their beak, the Steelers should have one anyway. The Steelers outplayed the Seahawks, especially during the second half. It was evident who was going to win by the end of the second play of the third quarter. (yawn...) Even before then, on the last possession of the second quarter, the failure of the Seahawks to manage the clock effectively was part of the reason why they lost the “game”. Especially after the example of the infamous Cowher trick play executed by Randle-El and Ward, it was obvious Pittsburgh deserved to win the “contest”. In the end, the Steel City prevailed over Grunging Ground. (Though I still enjoy bitching about referees, even when I was rooting for the Steelers :))
So now we turn our attention to the 2006 NFL Draft with new prospects like Reggie Bush, Matt Leinart, and Vince Young. The Texans are set to pick first, followed by the Saints, Titans, Jets...and then my beloved Green Bay. I just have one thing to say about Green Bay (I’m sorry...I have to.) Even though the last Packer game of the season seemed as though it was going to be the last for our fearless leader.... I still say....
ONE MORE YEAR!!!!

Nu Dai

2006-01-29T22:43:00.000-05:00

Beacon Blog, Webdate January 29th, 2006.

Hehehe....like that, my little play on the generic Star Trek openers? Ok, nevermind....um....I haven't got much to write about....so I'll just see what comes to my mind that I can scribe down. I'm currently reading this book: Tales Before Tolkien, The Roots of Modern Fantasy, which has got some cool short stories in it (ones that supposedly inspired the master of fantasy). So that's interesting, I'm finally reading again. And I wrote some poetry last night (see previous blog), so I'm back on the skald/scribe track...if there even is one. I'm doin' better in school....brought up my Ap us grade from a D to a B...which is good improvement...gonna keep it up.....and all other classes are pretty much under control. So yup....

Not really sure what else to talk about....tryna start a pen&paper RPG....can't find a game master though....so it may take some time....alas...I ramble....o well.....other than that not much is goin' on. I've gotten into the show Babylon 5, saw all of Season 1, which is pretty good, nice intergalactic diplomacy stuff...I like it....the characters are well drawn out too...so that's pretty interesting. Anyway...

That's all I have to say about that

Daitanis

Daised

2006-01-28T22:26:00.000-05:00

The foreman calls out,
You must get out!
You must get out!
I hope I’ve made the right choice,
I pray that I’m following the right voice,
And the foreman calls and seems to know,
Let her go,
Let her go,
Yet I still yearn,
And when I see her, my stomach does churn,
Still the foreman calls,
Don’t think with your balls,
Don’t think with your balls,
But I still hope that things will change,
That maybe she won’t think I’m so strange,
The foreman sings,
Remember the nine kings,
Remember the nine kings,
I seem to be consumed by lust,
I’ve forgotten how to trust,
So the foreman sighs,
Saying let the world die,
Let the world die,
Like Gatsby of Great,
I’m in a daised state,
The Foreman seems crazy,
As he tells me,
Daisy let it go,
Daisy let it go,
Daisy,
Let her go...

You Can't Take the Sky From Me

2006-01-17T18:13:00.000-05:00

(To whoever might read..not that I care...just scribing thoughts down)

Green Day blasts their Jesus of Suburbia over the computer: "Everybody's heart doesn't beat the same." This quotation's got me thinking....bout the whole shoe comment thing (see earlier blog: Shoes of the Gospel...if you care) I probably shouldn't even be listening to their comformist manufactured, synthetic crap...but I like it....so I'll listen to whatever the hell I want. As you can tell, I'm not in a very good mood. My high school and the community I live in...all the people are stuffy...and stuck up...and easily offended...and I'm tired of their frivolous bullshit. (Ok..this has turned into an anguished teen rant...btw)

They're only obsessed with themsevles (usually...not always...making angry assumptions...and yes I'm being hypocritical...I'm just venting) and don't see other people around them. They just go about their business and do everything to get a good transcript for the college their parents will bribe their dumb asses into. They get straight As go into APs...become mindless liberals....that "care about minorities" but really they're just fucking baby killers. Most of them just don't give a damn about me...geek cripple me.....or any other geek..in fact...if they see anyone who's at all different...they pounce on the poor dude and isolate him to such an extent that he becomes an introvert. The popular people experience sexual situations and flaunt it right in front of us of geekdom....pressing their over manicured lips together in a display of animilistic fervor. That then pisses us Geeks off so we go and try it on with girls...and then they mock us when we miserably fail or get cruelly rejected (not just from my own experience). They expect us to deal with it...and control our hormones (while they themsevles can't) and "Get over it" or "Leave them alone" UGGGGGGGHHHHHHH

It would atleast be bareable if I had people at my school that I could consider "my crew". However, I only have a few people...and they're just not into the same stuff as me (I'm not trying to be picky...most of them don't even like Star Wars). So I've dealt with it. I've put up with my freinds (some of whom desperatly strive to be popular and talk about frivolous crap like girls, fashions, and the latest "news" (gossip)) and I have. I've really tried to be content. I've really tried to be nice. I've tried to be a Guinan...always listening to peoples' problems and advising them on their "relationships". But gorramit....I'm sick of it!!! I want to talk about stuff like we talk about at Tribe. Deep, meaningful, useful, thought provoking discussions. But nope, all I get to talk about is so and so's mother...(though mom jokes rnt so bad :))...and which dick is dating the chick u like.....) And I'm truly fucking tired of it. I wanna talk about scifi/fantasy/rpg (yes...D&D....what about LARPing, anyone up for that...no...no you wouldn't be. Even other geeks laugh at LARPers (If you have no idea what I'm talking about....it just further to prove my point) I know nobody who wants to do that kind of stuff (and you need at least 2 or 3 others for a good D&D game) They all either wana talk about sex and penises..or that girl over there...which I really don't wanna worry about right now.....who gives a rut?

So I don't know. They say....oh...wait till college....everything will be okay....you'll meet new, interesting people......it'll all be plumcakes and daffodils....but I don't want to wait that long......no....gorram it....I'M NOT GONNA WAIT THAT LONG....I REFUSE TO!!!! "I ain't gonna live forever" And I'm close to the edge. So forget these Armonk faggots. They don't need me. So I'm just gonna act like they don't exist. Cuz they don't. They don't matter. Their snotty little opinions don't matter....and.....I'm just gonna go full on Geek.....and I'm not fucking looking back.

This has been a different point of view

Brice

But You Said

2006-01-04T20:56:00.000-05:00

I turn on the T.V.,
And all I see,
Is death and war,
Floods and people lying hungry on the floor,
I cry for God to tell me why,
He lets them become so poor while I put on my thousand-dollar tie,
While cities are swept away,
Suburban youth complains; tryin’ to imitate Dre,
We sob at how bad our lives are,
As we pass the charred and burning car,
I whine about my achin’ tooth,
While poverty limits inner city youth,
When I don’t want to go to university,
Others strive to get in despite the locks and find the key,
I say I’ve been forsaken,
While it’s considered acceptable to be life takin’,
I weep and write emo poetry,
While children starving reach for moldy Brie,
So I’m prayin’ God,
Why are the boys and girls’ faces in the sod?
You are a God of love,
So where is the helping hand from above?
I don’t need it right now,
They need a carton of milk; give them a cow,
They are your children,
And they’ll be dead by ten,
So save them all,
They’re cornered between the wall,
Even when we don’t care,
That kid in the poster still needs a teddy bear,
Don’t comfort me,
Your people were meant to be free!

Shoes of the Gospel

2006-01-04T20:07:00.000-05:00

Dear Freinds (am I starting to sound like Mr. Rogers?)

Thank you guys who emailed me in response to my "teenage anguish". I really appreciate the support. I think it helped. :) I was able to do something for my college advisor which I had been wrestling with myself to do all Christmas break. (It's an essay about what I like, what I find enjoyable etc....If anybody would like to read it and comment....I've posted it below :)) So...yeah...I do want to go to college....even though I have no idea what I want to do with my life and what exactly I would like to study.
I think I know what's been bothering me though. (really bothering me....bothering isn't really the right word...it's more of a frustration....yeah....frustrating me...) (I would delete the bothering thing...but I'm going for a more Kerouacian style) It all dawned on me as I was rolling (rather slowly...cuz my friggen chair....ugg...don't even get me started) and I was goin' along, right...and these two girls are talking....so just to be polite (hehehe) I turn down my music....and I overhear part of their conversation:
"Like omg...weren't so and so's shoes soooo cute!"
And there it was like a bright and twinkling star, like a frikken plank in my eye....right in front of my eyes and ears...I understood. I've been so frustrated because people at my school are superficial cuttouts from a fashion magazine. There aren't....well a few...like two...but I don't hang with them enough....many people like me....at my school...that like the stuff I like...that yearn to go to cons and are christian ( there are people who are...I just don't talk with them much). This is what's been frustrating. So i'm not sure how to fix this frustration..I just feel alot better...cuz now I know what's been bothering me (perhaps its also my new interest in country music....I think I'm turning into a hick....oyvey as Cliffy would say) So if you could pray for me...and if you have any suggestions..email me....call me....how's that U2 song go...I only know the Weird Al version....Floss Me...Bill Me!!!....man Kerouac must have been drunk when he made up his writing style)

Essay thingie:

Most people would say I am a strange person. So I don’t surround myself with most people. Most people, especially in high school, in my opinion are boring squares that don’t have fun. To me fun has a lot to do with being different, or knowing things about what most people would never know about. If people find what I think to be interesting to be boring, then that’s their loss. I’ll keep on enjoying what I like to do.
For fun, one of the most important activities I participate in is writing. Whether this is writing short stories, poetry, or (I hope someday) novels, each time I put pen to paper I am able to scribe out my feelings and emotions. I’m not sure how my love for writing began, but for as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to do something to do with writing with my life. Perhaps because of my love of reading, I wanted to voice my own opinions and thoughts through my own stories, poems, and novels. Mostly writing in science fiction and fantasy, I enjoy these genres the most because I feel they give the writer the most freedom to use his imagination, and also explore the potential of mankind (even if I’m writing about aliens or ogres) (Even when your writing about fantastic creatures, your still only writing about human emotions under all the tentacles and horns). For a long time, I have tried to write poetry to express more down to earth emotions that I feel churning within myself. However, until recently, I was not able to express myself through this outlet. Since being able to rhyme and gain inspiration, I have written many poems, songs (at least attempts at songs), and also ballads. Poetry has become the most comfortable style of writing for me since then, but I really hope to develop this skill to a more complete fruitation during college.
Another activity in which I enjoy participating in is watch football. Specifically, I enjoy watching Green Bay Packer football. Even though some would argue this is a pretty passive pastime, I would have to disagree. I don’t remember how I became a Packer, but I know I will never root for another team in the NFL for as long as I live. I have visited Green Bay twice now, and have fallen in love with the town and team. Never before, nor anywhere else, will you see a town so completely absorbed in their team. A town with an approximate population of 90,000- 75,000 of them attends home games on Sundays. You cannot go two feet in the town without sighting a G logo on a door or car window. Even when they do terribly in their season, like this year for example (4-12), I will still loyally watch every game. I don’t give up, even when times get tough.
The final, and most important aspect of my life that I enjoy participating in is my faith. A fairly new believer in Christianity, I’m still learning a lot of what it means to be a Christian. (I’m told this doesn’t change much) Nothing is as comforting to me as the thought of a God who cares for me and loves me. My ever present inspiration for not only writing- but for life- God is the only one who keeps me going at certain points in my life. I also enjoy learning about my faith by studying the Bible. This is why I may want to go to a more Christian centered college so I will be able to take some theological classes or classes of that sort. I definitely want to go to a college where I will be able to practice my faith and where there will at least be others (any denomination) that celebrate the same God as I do.

Anyway

God Bless
Psalmer

Almost Aphrodite

2006-01-03T20:43:00.000-05:00

Is this love?
Should it feel so much like a rough shove?
I’ve heard stories of the sweet emotion,
Is it supposed to cause such a stomach commotion?
Every time she goes passed,
I fear my heart and mind won’t last,
They say you only feel this kind of love once,
Maybe this is it cuz I haven’t gotten her outta my mind for months,
It can’t be love though,
It feels like I just stubbed my toe,
This isn’t at all pleasant,
I keep on getting disappointed every time I pass another day’s crescent,
Wishing that she’s the one I’m looking for,
Vainly hoping that she’s Guinevere of Lore,
But I have to accept that I haven’t found the one for me,
The one who’ll be the queen of my love tree,
I haven’t found my dream girl,
I guess she’s just a grain of sand, and not my pearl...

Samuel

2006-01-03T19:37:00.000-05:00

Looking back,
Looking forward,
Looking left,
Looking right,
Looking up,
Looking down,

I can’t see too far in any direction,
I want to spit when I see my reflection,
I walk around aimlessly,
While before I frolicked in the hills shamelessly,
Now all I feel is pain and frustration,
It’s as if I’m the sole target of Satan’s invasion.

Looking back,
Looking forward,
Looking left,
Looking right,
Looking up,
Looking down,

The armies seem to surround my weathered tent,
So I cry to my God and repent,
But every time I overcome one demon,
Another rears its ugly head despite the season,
All I see in my future is the same disease,
So I pray as I fall on bloodied knees.

Looking back,
Looking forward,
Looking left,
Looking right,
Looking up,
Looking down,

My path seems to be mapped out before me already,
All they say I have to do is bear the storm and keep my feet steady,
What if they are wrong?
What if I wasn’t meant to march to the beat of their song?
They say just pass this final test,
They say their older and they know what’s best.

Looking back,
Looking forward,
Looking left,
Looking right,
Looking up,
Looking down,

I’m prayin’ that I’ll make the right choice,
So when I’m older and I look back I can rejoice,
But I can’t see where I’m to go,
So I’m asking for you to help me; O carpenter apprentice of Joe,
I think I’ll walk down the path of right,
Even if that path has more of a bight.

So I’m looking back,
Looking forward,
Looking left,
Looking right,
Looking down,
Looking up...

Second Star to the Right and Straight on 'Till Morning

2006-01-02T20:29:00.000-05:00

Throughout my travels this vacation to Virginia..and elsewhere (among the darkest dungeons in my mind), I have been thinking. Not alot...watching a little too much T.V. :)...(and let me say there is nothing on....cept for TIMMY!!!) But yeah...I've been pondering on my life a little bit....alot....I mean, I did nothing constructive this vacation...I mean, I tried to write a few times..but nothing came to me. Alas, I digress.....this is the new year...but it all feels the same...boring....old...decadent....and I know its not....and I'm young and I got my whole life ahead of me and all that crap...and I should be happy in God...and I am...it just feels this way with school....and my social life....(yeah the girls too...even though I give up with the whole damned lot)....and it's like...I'm just....at a crossroads..I guess you could call it...(here I go with the fork stuck in the road thing...again...) and I'm thinking bout my future...and its like....I don't really want to go to college anymore....I don't really see the point....I mean....I want to write....I don't know.....its just....I'm sick of school and teachers and...people my age.....and its.....UGGGGHHHHHH....and I don't know what God wants me to do...I mean...I assume he wants me to go to college.....but maybe he doesn't....its just that college is this drift into thing that everybody does....and its just...stupid....mayb not....but.....I'm sounding very confused aren't I?

I don't want another year like last year. Between the failed test after failed test and sudden outbursts of heartbroken tears....I want a new year with new freinds.....and successes...and not lusting after stuff (and girls)....but it just seems the same..another day..another year..another fight...another struggle with my self everytime I see even the most remotedly beautiful girl...and I still dont have my power chair after 8 frikken weeks (new beginnings?) and its just....weighing me down....and gettin' to me....

So today I saw the press conference from the Packers when the GM fired head coach Mike Sherman...saying he "wanted to go in a new direction". Earlier this horrid season, Favre said that if the coach was fired it would be alot harder for him to come back to football. After his emotional walk off the field on Sunday, waving goodbye to the cheesheads at Lambeau field...and also unexpectadly hopped onto the seahawk's plane after Sunday's game to speak with Holmgren- his former Super Bowl winining coach for a talk..so I'm fairly certain he will retire after the canning of the coach he swore loyalty to. So I guess this is farwell to one of football's greatest icons...Peace be with you too Favre.....

So its gotten me thinking....changing of the guard....changing into the new year....new semester coming up soon....supposedly leaving this dump I go to school in....changes....it's happening all around me...but I just can't feel them...I feel numb, stagnant...as if in a trance...I want to be able to smile again like I used to..but these past few months...even though I became a christian....have just....I dunno....maybe its becoming a man....but its been the hardest few months I've ever endured....I just hope something changes.....Cuz I'm getting sick of the old...I've had enough...I need a change....a big change...lots of big changes...maybe inside of me (I gotta talk to someone bout something to do with the struggles inside of me...if you guys want..) I want new....the death of old...the beginning of new...of good...of light....of joy....To the year of Jubilee!!!

Ominous Kismet

The old warrior hangs his helmet,
The new come to meet their inevitable kismet,
The old sits down to rest,
While us young ones try to do our best,
The old passes on his torch,
And takes his place next to the elders on the front porch,
As they watch their sun fade,
Smiling at the world they’ve made,
As we wonder what will become of our burden,
Will we be able to protect the flowers in our garden?
Will we do our father’s proud?
Or will we succumb to the thickening crowd?
Cuz I can’t see an answer to the riddle,
There’s our past and there’s our future and we’re stuck in the middle,
So we’ll have to build bridges,
Despite the dark and jagged ridges,
We’ll build bridges to the future,
Maybe we’ll be the ones to find the cure,
The old are handing us the keys,
The oaks drop seeds; could they become trees?
I don’t know where we go from here,
But it seems we’ve missed our ship and are just sitting on the pier,
So the new takes the place of the old,
But the black seems to be consuming the gold,
Were we meant to live and constantly fret?
Is this our ominous kismet...?

For now....Peace be with you too Favre...the sun sets, will it come back up?

Psalmer

"Till the World Caves In..."

2005-12-31T22:32:00.000-05:00

Changing of the Guard

I sit on the brink,
The sun has set on this year amidst promising pink,
And now the year is ending,
Abba, my life you are slowly mending,
Before it ends,
I want to thank you for all the unforeseen twists and bends,

I sit on the brink,
I wait for the year to finally sink,
You have guided my path,
Without you I couldn’t do even the simplest spiritual math,
Hallelujah to my king,
I soar under your healing wing,

I sit on the brink,
Watching the old and new link,
The changing of the guard,
Is happening right now in my yard,
The beginning of all that is new,
Father, I thank you for my friends in the pew,

I sit on the brink,
My savior looks back and pauses for a wink,
I know with him I’ll be fine,
I’m gonna let this light shine,
I know I’ll make some mistakes along the way,
But that’s why I’ve gotta tell others of what he came here to say,

So I sit on the brink,
I sit on the brink,
On the brink...

Lifeboat

2005-12-16T21:54:00.000-05:00

I’m a hopeless wretch
My life’s story in front of me you etch
I’m a dirty imperfection
You show me my potential reflection
Despite your love I still lust
I spit in your loving face- and sometimes cussed
I constantly turn my back on the life tree
Yet “Faithful!” you decree
I don’t deserve this Lord
That is why I’m playing this psalm on my chord
Hallelujah to the Lamb
He is my protecting dam
Hallelujah to my king
Soon it will be spring
For your love
Falls from above
So I thank you
For without the raft I’d be drowning in blue....

Myth Trap

2005-12-14T21:45:00.000-05:00

A little winged devil flies through the heavens
His wicked bow and arrow pierce the hearts of the fickle
The cherubic demon does not give us a chance for sevens
He makes us lust after buety; causing our mouths to trickle

Yea, Cupid’s the spawn of Satan
Yea, he causes the best of us to want matin’
Yea, Cupid’s the spawn of Satan
He grips our hearts and sets out for taintin’

He makes us reach for those that are out of our reach
He pulls his bow back and catches us unguarded; sleepin’ on the beach
His arrow pierces our eyes
This minion of Satan just feeds us lies

Yea, Cupid’s the spawn of Satan
Yea, he makes us fall in love with those that have all the hatin’
Yea, Cupid’s the spawn of Satan,
And I’m tired for all this sitting around and waitin’...

YuleFork

2005-12-12T22:24:00.000-05:00

I still stand on the threshold
Not quite where I wish
Part of me wants to fold
Will I ever be able to hook a fish?

I’ve been working for years
Blisters cover my weary hands
All I get from my peers is their cold shoulders and rears
I am sick and tired of trudging through the same sands!

I’m lost in this cold world of technology
I wish I could just be a lone hermit
There has to be more to life than memorizing useless chronology
I feel like a puppet; a manipulated Kermit!

I don’t see the point in these enclosing bars
The path that lies before me already seems to be cement
All I want to do is live by myself and write on Mars
All these sums and formulas just seem to add to my detriment!

I’ve come to another fork in my road
I don’t know which way is right
I feel I’m carrying too heavy a load
The light at the end of my tunnel seems to be out of sight!

I fear I cannot go ahead
I pray for guidance
My energy seems to be drained and dead
All I hear is silence...

Soul Salesman

2005-12-09T11:32:00.000-05:00

Dear Brothers,

So I suddenly got this idea when my aide at home (she's really cool) was on the phone to her granddaughter....and her granddaughter told her to call her back...and my aide said no because she had no more minutes on her cell phone. But her granddaughter said, but I'm your granddaughter! My aide replied: "I wouldn't give a kitty if you were Jesus, if you wanna talk to me call me yourself" Much to my amusemant. So that got me thinkin'....

Psalmer

Soul Salesman- An Exposition

“Hello, Daniel White speaking, who is this?”
“Hello, Daniel, This is Jesus.”
“Wha-um….I think you have the wrong number.”
“No…no…this is the right number.”
“Are you selling something?”
“Well…in a way…yeah.”
“Dude, you are starting to creep me out!”
“I know…I know…I just have a message for you.”
“I’ll call the cops!…I can track your phone line!”
“Oh…. (warm chuckles crackle across the phone line) I don’t think they’ll be able to track this phone line…unless they had a key to get to my pad…. and Pete still has it with him up here; at least he did last night at the football game. Those angels always have an advantage over the dead people. I think we should institute some sort of rule about blinding lights…”
“You’re an absolute lunatic!”
“That was the popular theory when I was down there too.”
“I’ll hang-“
“Have patience, young man, patience. I just wanted to tell you that everything is going to be fine. My father is in control of everything…just don’t open the door. Lucifer is prowling around your apartment building. Do not invite him inside. Looks can be deceiving; he may be cleanly looking on the outside-
“Click-(a recorded woman’s voice) “Please hang up and try your call again”
“Why does nobody ever take heed to what I say the FIRST time? (Sigh) Daniel wake up!”
Daniel woke to a pounding at his front door. He must have fallen asleep again while writing his term paper. Suddenly, his dream flooded back to him, just as clear as it would have been in reality. Perhaps it was reality…Dan shook his head from sleep, trying to gain control of his overactive imagination. The doorbell now sounded, an almost agitated and impatient tone to its usually melodic greeting.
Something told Dan not to move though, as he remembered the warning through the phone in his dream. He attempted to move, but his brain was telling him to stay where he was. The knocking died away, and the doorbell ceased abruptly. Daniel turned to the Bible that his Mother had left him the night before. Just one look wouldn’t hurt…

White Day

2005-12-08T21:07:00.000-05:00

Will it snow on this night?
Will we wake up to a world of white?
Will the cruel institutions be shut down?
Will freedom ring through this barren town?

The answer my friend is coming,
The answer my friend, will be numbing,

Will the light shine like a blanket?
Will joy fill the Earth like it’s wet?
Will we be free of our restraints?
Will we be free of the mold big brother paints?

The choir of change is humming,
The drums my friend are thrumming,

It’s time for you to change the course of history,
It’s time for you to unravel tomorrow’s mystery,
Life’s more than laboratories and textbooks,
Life’s more than partying and pretty looks,
And you are more than they say,
So will tomorrow be your White Day…

A Blue Fork Pierces a White Road

2005-12-08T19:36:00.000-05:00

Brothers,

On Tuesday night this week, I was talking to Gary (our chieftan) at Tribe, and he was saying how God was telling him how something big is about to happen, and how the times are changing. Well, God has been showing me that too. Especially after Gary said we are on the verge. I know Christ said "the kingdom of heaven is at hand", but I feel that this has always been true (at least after he was born), but I can tell we are "Livin' on the Edge!" as Aerosmith puts it.
This week I got a test back for Math...and HALLELUJAH...I PASSED A MATH TEST FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS YEAR! Kind of pathetic...I am aware....but none the less..I did. So that's one thing that is changed from previously. I also had a freind over at my house for the first time in like three years...he's awesome...check out his blog:
http://beginningsofagoodworld.blogspot.com/
btw, Cliff, he's jewish (his foster parents are anyway) :) And he keeps on Iming me through this post....and it's awesome...I haven't talked to someone my age for this long a time...and have meaningful conversations before...and he's only a freshman...hahaha....sucks for him...ok now i must mock him.............ok..mocking over. :) God's showing me stuff again..his name on that is Golden Phoenix...and thats what his email has been for like the longest time he says it signifies: "to me, a phoenix represents me, i can get hit down, and come back up anew, and the golden part, not to be egotistical, is me being a gentlemen, and hopefully good at heart". But whoa....Abba, you are cool...Phoenix...Phoenix...Golden Phoenix...Phoenix Beacon....whoa....fire.....revolution...redemption.
There is something very ethereal about that. We'll see what God does there....alas I digress..back to other new stuff....new headphones Ian (Golden Phoenix) gave me....um...o yeah....
So I was at the Christian group at my school today and we were doin' our worship thang....and I just started singing..cuz I was happy (just before God told me to push my manual chair down the school hallway by myself...just to exercise my arms...and my arms were slightly sore after it..but I feel so invigorated by the experience..that I'm gonna do it again...and again...and again) Yeah, so anyway, I was praising the Lord in this group (B.A.S.I.C. Brothers and Sisters in Christ) and I just began to sing my heart out....(very badly, despite the presence of females in the room) and I just praised him more..cuz even a month..and definetly a year ago...I would have been too self concious...especially with the ladies...to sing in front of them (with them..they have beutiful voices...btw...;))...but now my God has given me strength and faith to praise him in the temples and streets...that now I will sing of him throughout all the Schools, Parks, Streets, Sidewalks, Garages, Coffee Houses, Pizzareas, Concerts, Podiums, Benches, lamposts....o...yeah....another thing to praise my lord for....Narnia.....THANK YOU LORD....yeah....lost my thread there...but my God is so great....and I praise him....for through him...I am ALREADY HEALED...SO DANKE ABBA...(see now I'm speaking in tounges...lol....jpjp...maybe one day though) And today I also found out that many of my evangelical poems are gonna come out in the Literary Magazine on Monday or Tuesday....and people will finally be able to see Jeshua workin' through me via poetry and a story (all on my blog already) but, just another thing to thank my lord for. And also for my freinds that are just suddenly popping up EVERYWHERE....AND IT IS SO COOL...AND I THANK GOD...Anyway.....

These are all my freinds on blogger:

http://themythod.blogspot.com/ (Gregory- the olive oil emperor :))
http://forrestfire.blogspot.com/ (Cliff- the piercing hobbit)
http://beginningsofagoodworld.blogspot.com/ (Ian- biggest Breaking Benjamin fan I know :))
http://platoreborn.blogspot.com/ (Tasso- the Greek philosophical dude)

God Bless
Psalmer

Dork Ballad

2005-12-07T22:39:00.000-05:00

I see them all the time,
As they walk by me without a glance,
I look for even the slightest romantic sign,
But I soon realized they were all in a trance,
In a trance,
In a trance,
In a trance,
Let them march to their own tune,
Their reign will be over soon,
But still their tyranny lasts,
The older ones say it will be better on the other side,
Though all I hear is the sound of canon blasts,
Canon blasts,
Canon blasts,
Canon blasts,
So let them march to their hypnotic drums,
While we pick up the leftover crumbs,
I don’t care anymore,
Before too long I’ll be off this floor,
Now I may be a loner,
But they’d have one if I become a moaner,
A moaner,
A moaner,
A moaner,
So let them march to their dooms,
We’ll be waiting to heal them in the Emergency rooms,
For now we will wait,
Until just before it is too late,
And we will be the ones to save the human race,
But for now; it’s slow and steady; and that’s our pace
Pace
Pace
Pace….

Turkish Delight

2005-12-07T22:22:00.000-05:00

Lord, I want to praise
Lord, I don’t want to be caught up in the Turkish delight craze,
So I sing your name on high,
Because of you; my spirit soars high,
God, for you I do sing,
For God, you are the once and future king,
No one can take your place,
You help me at my own pace,
You love me even when I sin,
You settle my mind’s restless din,
God, for you I do sing,
For God, you are the once and future king
When I want that seductive delight,
You keep your glory within my sight,
And I play on my harp painted with blue dye,
Adonai, Adonai, Adonai, Adonai,
God, for you I do sing,
For God, you are my once and future king…

The Fishing King

2005-12-07T17:29:00.000-05:00

Many men search for an answer
An answer to all their suffering
An ending to all their sickness
But few have found this Grail

Like the king of old Corbenic
Who was wounded in battle
And became bitter in old age
While his kingdom fell into
Darkness and obscurity

All of us strive to find
An end to all our cruel humanity
An end to all our endless wars
But we find that we are chasing
Ghosts; that seem to mock us

The truth of the matter is
The answer is right in front of us
We don’t have to go anywhere
To find the Holy Grail

Knights in all the land
May come to “heal” us
But like in the tales of old
They all fail in the end

What we must do
Is look inside our
Souls and find the truth

He is in everything we do
He is the very thing that keeps us going
He is the very thing that makes being a Human
Such an awesome responsibility

He is Love
And love is the great healer
Like gallant Galahad in the stories
Love comes to our broken wastelands

And makes us smile
And heals our broken hearts
As we head out the door to tell the truth of the Grail…

Wisdom of Mama Gump

2005-12-04T17:19:00.000-05:00

Dear Peeps,

This used to be on the header to this blog, but I didn't want it anymore on the header. However, I still wanted to post it...so I did:
Life really is like a box of chocolates. Sometimes it can be bitter, sometimes it can be sweet. Sometimes it looks sweet on the outside, but it turns out bitter. Sometimes it just plain tastes bad. Sometimes you want to savor its taste melting in your mouth. Sometimes you can waste it so quickly that its gone before you know it. Sometimes you just gotta enjoy what kind of box was given to you. But most of all, I love chocolate. :)

Psalmer

The Gospel of Pimp

2005-12-01T22:32:00.000-05:00

We’ve been tricked,
The world is just a lie,
She shoves sex down our throats constantly,
She tells us we must have all the girls that playboy picked

But that is the world’s way to be content,
And that only leads to death,
The people that follow that path end up with emptiness inside,
Their lives get washed up and do not even bother to repent

You go around this world and know there’s gotta be something more,
We weren’t put on this Earth just by accident,
We aren’t just a bunch of random objects in space constantly colliding with one another,
But you don’t really face the truth until you have tripped and fallen on the floor

When someone above this Earth puts you back on your feet,
And you know that he loves you more than a poem could convey,
You can finally put a smile on your face,
You begin to march to another drummer’s beat

I don’t pretend to be a man with the most power in the land,
Nor do I have any riches to show off,
I have no maidens to console me,
But I do know the touch of an angelic hand

Things of this world do not matter,
You do not need women to be a true pimp,
Beauty is fleeting,
And money just makes our greed even fatter

So now I am a disciple of the truest Gospel,
And the worth of a man is not by his wealth,
But a true pimp is in his perception,
He is happy in what his God has given him and rejoices for his life has been full.

Anyone for Metaphors?

2005-12-01T17:35:00.000-05:00

Figment

The once great dragon
Flew above the two legs’ city
Reminiscing of how things had
Changed since they first came

Once lush valleys covered the land
Then they had come with
Stone walls and steel; replacing
Green grass and forests

At first they feared and honored the majestic animal
Gasping as he flew passed
He did not fear them
He thought he was untouchable
He thought these primitive beasts could not harm him

He soon found out that he was greatly
Mistaken
They began to spread all across his once great
Kingdom

Forgetting it was not their own
Raping its fruit and erecting
Idols of their own invention
They drove the true king into the mountains
Away from his once happy home

They began to believe that he was just a myth
And began to disrespect this heavenly lands
The two footers built cities over what used to be
Apple orchards

The dragon began to fade
No longer a real being in the eyes of the wingless ones
The epitome of nobility and grace was
To be replaced by cynicism and logic

True
Beauty was forgotten
Man finally found what it meant to be alone and
Empty
Realizing he was no longer wanted on this Earth
He slipped out of memory and mind; and ceased to
Puff.

Flyin' Through the 'Verse

2005-11-29T16:44:00.000-05:00

Good characterization has a large impact on the quality and enjoyment level of folklore and fiction. This is certainly true in popular science fiction T.V. shows and movies. For example, when the creator of the original Star Trek, Gene Roddenberry, created his space opera he made sure his three leading characters: Spock, Doctor McCoy, and Captain Kirk were well thought out and interacted with each other in interesting ways. This made the horribly done (at least by today’s standards) special effects and oftentimes-generic plots seem forgivable because of the way the three officers’ relationships evolved.
A few years ago, the creator and screenwriter of the hit T.V. shows Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, Joss Whedon, created a science fiction/western show that explored the relationships of a much larger group of characters. Firefly, as Whedon called this new show, is set in a future five hundred years in the future. Terra-formed worlds on the “core” make up a tyrannical dominating empire called the Alliance. (And yes, we actually do see evidence of tyranny in this Alliance, unlike an assumed tyranny like that of the Galactic Empire in the Star Wars canon.*) A resistance called the Browncoats rose up against this Alliance, and lost. The captain of the Firefly class ship, Serenity, Malcolm Reynolds, was one of these resistance fighters. This was the backdrop for the show Firefly. Unfortunately, this show was pulled from Fox after just a few episodes due to an out of order showing of these episodes and poor ratings.
Slowly, a fan base began to grow out of the ashes of this condemned show. Calling themselves Browncoats after the resistance fighters in their beloved show, these fanatics spread Firefly across the globe using the DVD boxed set as their main weapon. Eventually, the movie company Universal saw how the DVD was in the top ten DVD list on the online mega store, Amazon and decided to propose a movie deal with Joss Whedon. He began to film his blockbuster, Serenity, named after Mal’s firefly shaped ship. Opening in theaters on September 30, 2005 in the United States, the movie has so far made a disappointing 36 million dollars.
Soon to be released on December 20, 2005 in the United States as a DVD, Serenity will hopefully make double the amount it has already gained. If only people knew what quality science fiction they were missing, this movie would gain a lot more money. Even if you do not enjoy science fiction normally, this series and movie will have you enticed. As I have stated earlier, this is mainly due to the characters and interactions that occur between the characters. Mal, a usually dark and brooding type is very interesting, because unlike most protagonists in modern films and shows he does not always do the right thing. In fact, he, as well as the rest of his eight (I could argue nine) crewmates, are thieves, thugs, and criminals, so they are usually doing the wrong thing. (At least the Alliance is convinced that what they are doing is wrong.) This is not a black and white cast (the good guys, and the bad guys) many of the characters are in the grey area, like they would be. The dialogue from both Firefly and Serenity are what one would come to expect from Whedon, witty interjections, but often emotionally driven thought provoking lines. Both the beauty and the ugliness of humanity shows through the ‘Verse (universe), as the crew of Serenity battles barbarian men called Reavers. The problems of this ‘Verse are all started and overcome by humans, without the absurdity of other science fiction shows filled with aliens. That is what people find so drawing to this show, the relationships between humans and also the humanity shining out in the themes of this world, the fact that its still a very human story underneath all the “fairy dust”.

(*I am of the camp that the rebel alliance was a terrorist organization…but that’s another article ☺)

Fileo

2005-11-28T23:07:00.000-05:00

Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: It ain't all buttons and charts little Albatross. You know what the first rule of flyin' is? Well I suppose you do, since you already know what I'm about to say.
River Tam: I do, but I like to hear you say it.
Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: Love. You can know all the math in the 'Verse, but take a boat in the air you don't love, she ain't keepin' up just as sure as the turning of worlds. Love keeps her up when she ought to fall down, tells ya she's hurtin' 'fore she keens, makes her home.
River Tam: Storm's getting worse.
Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: We'll pass through it soon enough.

Oтец

2005-11-23T16:07:00.000-05:00

Dear Peeps,

Ok...this poem was an assignment for creative writing to get into the mind of a person different from yourself. The teacher told me to do it about a male, 22, who is a father out of wedlock...o and...he's also Eastern European. I think this poem kind of shows God's love for us...in a strange and abstract way....:)

God Bless
elscribe

Oтец

I sit on the couch
Watching the crib anxiously in the corner
The baby is for now silent
I can rest for a few moments at least

Thoughts turn back to when this all started
I can’t even remember everything that happened
It all fades in and out of my mind like an agile sea monster
When I left Moscow for college in Volgograd

That was the first time I had met her
That was before things had become out of control
We never realized it would have come to this
It was just a matter of time
We thought we were in love
Our impulses took over
Before we knew it

She was pregnant
She went through with it though
That was when my anxiety started

Fear of what I would do to support them
Circulated around in my head
Then he came into this world
A helpless bundle of drool and excrement
Grinning from a toothless milk hole

That was when she left
She said that she couldn’t cope
He was not her son
She left him with me

Now I sit here
In my empty apartment in downtown Volgograd
The television blares in the corner of my eye
Breaking news flashes on the screen
Images of a gym filled with children
A black-robed terrorist holds a gun
Bombs hooked around a school

The casualty count rises
Chechnya’s resistance movement is still alive
The TV’s sound blasts

A cry rises from the crib in the corner of the room
I cross over and look into the bed and its occupant
Picking up the infant
I look into his youthful blue eyes

I worry for the world he will be growing up in
Tumultuous rebellions and wars
He’ll need guidance and people guarding him

He’ll be safe…
I’ll make sure of that
His мать may have abandoned him
But I’m still here

His little pudgy hand grips mine
I cry for the little dead bodies on a distant gym floor
Their parents cry for them now
My сын will not go that way

He will be protected
I won’t let the villains in this world get to him
I’m his father…
Oтец

Supernatural

2005-11-18T22:02:00.000-05:00

I’ve been looking,
I've been dreaming,
I’ve been thinking,
I’ve been searching,
I’ve been lost,
But now it doesn’t matter what was the cost,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
I’ve found him,
Him,
Him,
Through him I find kin,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
I hear them whisper in tongues,
Tongues,
Tongues,
They cry to him with righteous lungs,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
Troubles of this world fade,
Fade,
Fade,
Our debts have been paid,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
We will follow him to the end of days,
Days,
Days,
We are soaking in the Son’s rays,
Supernatural,
Supernatural,
Uberpowerful,
Uberpowerful,
We are truly made,
We are truly saved…
Supernatural!!!

She Hate Me

2005-11-18T21:49:00.000-05:00

There’s nowhere but up from here,
My eyes have no more strength left for another tear,
I am now completely rejected,
I wonder if I am still even respected,
They hate me with an even deeper passion,
I am always talking to brick walls and crashin’,
Gossip thunders around,
Lies never cease to pound,
She feels I’m a threat,
Some shadowy Boba Fett,
So I gotta finally let her go,
But I every time I see her I feel I’m reading a morbid poem by Poe,
Her heart is with another,
While mine is stuck in the gutter,
She Hate Me,
And I gotta let her go,
She Hate Me,
Cuz every time I see her tears begin to flow,
She Hate Me,
I never thought I’d get this low,
You Hate Me,
And boy, does it blow…

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end"

2005-11-17T21:20:00.000-05:00

Brothers,

So I did. I gave her that poem. Or atleast, a freind gave it to her for me. (Btw...this is the girl I vowed never to bother again :() So she apparently thinks that I know her entire schedule....and crap like that. (I think I told a freind that...its....true....) So she wants me to leave her alone...and it apparently really upset her. So much for making up. UGHHHH I don't know how to say this. I just need some...guidance...or prayer....or something.

I just wanna deal with God and just be a soldier for him in the war. But all I see down on this earth is girls and stupid fleeting teenage bullshit. I just wanna.....be walking in supernatural affairs....and not worried about.....stuff...and all this excess luggage and garbage. I also feel all alone at my school....and so...secluded...and stuck in this impenetrable bubble. It's just horrible.....I feel I have no true freinds in that school...I mean I know I do....but it's just so......cloaked in despair.....I feel very lost, confused and bemused. That's all I have to say about that.

God Bless
elscribe

Shame

2005-11-15T18:30:00.000-05:00

should i tell her?

When you look at me,
My mind explodes into a stormy sea,
I can’t think,
You make my pride and ego shrink,
You make me ponder,
Hold my head low and wander,
Whenever I see your face,
I see how I’m a disgrace,
I finally know that you won’t forgive,
Until we cease to live,
You glare as I roll by,
When I’m near you my throat goes numb and dry,
I can’t tell you who I truly am,
Why I follow the lamb,
Why I lied,
The reason why I even tried,
When I see your faint fair form,
My whole world is torn,
When you glide past; my palms go all wet,
I begin to think of what I did and fret,
I shouldn’t even be writing this lament,
It’s not even God sent (I guess I’ll have to repent J),
When I am near you I cry to my ethereal Lord,
I play a song to him on my harp’s cord,
I still wonder why I was such a dick,
The clock on my life never ceases to tick,
I can’t stay in this place anymore,
I’m stepping through the door,
You don’t even care,
My heart begins to tear,
It’s only an adolescent crush,
But I see you and I’m only painting rainbows of brown with my brush,
I don’t know what to do,
In my head it’s like a zoo,
You hate my guts,
But you aren’t among the sluts,
You’re nice,
When you stare at me like that I feel like a mere garbage slice,
I’m ashamed of what I did,
I’m no longer a kid,
So I apologized,
But I never realized,
That you could never give me a second chance,
But I’m still thinking of a lost friend in my rants,
They say I shouldn’t care so much,
They say your just a snotty such and such,
But I see so much more,
I don’t know exactly; but it’s rocking me to my core,
Should I even show you this?
Or is your reaction just gonna throw me off the abyss?
I’m so frustrated with my actions,
My lusts; my plastic attractions,
Yeah; I’m the one that was plastic,
Even though many others can’t see through my sickness and spastic,
But you put up with me,
Even when I acted like I was three,
I’m trying to tell you why I can’t go up to you and talk,
Why I first stole your screen name and began to stalk,
Man, I wish I hadn’t written this ballad,
You probably think I’m the most pathetic lad,
It’s probably true too,
I haven’t thought any of this through,
Maybe you’ll still hate me after you’ve read,
The thought of that fills me with dread,
But I don’t know what else I could do,
This may seem like its outta the blue,
And it is,
But poetry is my biz,
So that’s why I rhyme,
Maybe it will make up for my crime,
I shouldn’t have even started,
You probably think I’m retarded,
I think I am,
I flirt like a battering ram,
I wish I could change the past,
But I’m praying the silence between us won’t last,
But every time I see you I feel my shame,
Cuz besides my lil sis, you’re the prettiest dame,
Accuse me of being a pervert,
Treat me like dirt,
But I will not stop liking you,
Even when your not part of my crew,
I’m sorry for the stalking,
Maybe we’ll meet on the other side, when I’m walking…

-Asshole

Authority

2005-11-03T21:05:00.000-05:00

Down in the bog,
Being a big brother to my crew,
Trying to pull them through this high school slog,
They all askin' me what to do,
As if I'm a sage or wise man,
But really I'm just stuck in the same crappy loo,
O, Lord, I thank you though,
Before you I had no one to aide,
In me seeds of freinship you do sow,
I am your harpist,
I will be your phoenix beacon,
I will be your sword; and strive to be the sharpest,
I thank you, Lord,
From the depths of Mordor you pulled me,
All your love will begin to be poured.....

"I still haven't found what I'm looking for"

2005-11-02T21:57:00.001-05:00

8 Mac

I sit here writin’ on my pad,
Melancholic and sad,
Watchin the passin’ females,
Their bitter farewells are painted on their fadin’ sails,
They don’t understand my way,
They just go by,
The eighth house on MacDonald drive,
Not even knowin’,
Not bothering in friendship sowin’,
So why should I care,
Who’s the next pair,
On the in crowd’s square,
I’m just the one in corner,
Seething as I rage in my own personal sauna,
So I’m strikin’ out on my own,
To the wayward winds I will be blown,
Acidic feelings pointed towards my life,
Screamin’ to God why it seems to be filled with such strife,
Why I can’t have what I think I want,
When even when the girl wants me; hellish damnation seems to daunt,
Other girls I want seem to just smile and taunt,
I lay on my bed in the darkest watch of the night,
While all my dreams seem to be out of sight,
When Satan tries to pull me down,
As all the rainbows I paint turn brown,
I just listen to music,
While demons try to twist the lyrics into a trick,
It’s like an endless rock ballad,
A psalm to my heavenly Dad,
Why do I even strive?
To stay in this dump; am I even truly alive?
I’m just waiting for college,
As I fortify myself behind a burning hedge,
Maybe it will be better there,
But I’ll always be different to them; square,
I’m just waitin’ for my Lord to come from the clouds,
So he can peel back these fleshy shrouds,
But I can’t see why he wants me here,
Satan just seems to mock my stagnation with a maniacal jeer,
I’ll wait on you, my lord,
But I’m getting stuck here; bored,
I pray to be an agent of the supernatural,
Burning banners of Baal,
Yelling a Christian war cry,
To combat the enemy’s lie,
As the drums hum into the dawn,
Until the son comes riding up to my lawn,
I’ll be so far from 8 Mac,
He’ll take me on his ethereal bus and there will be no looking back…

Btw....kinda based on Eminem's 8 Mile..btw...my address is 8 Macdonald Ave...if you didn't kno already...

Bound

2005-10-30T22:22:00.000-05:00

Bound

All I see,
Is who I can’t be,
Watching from the distant shore,
Wishing I could soar,
Am I the broken chain?
Am I the one I should blame?
Rage is shrouding,
The room of my mind is crowding,
Under attack,
Cloaked in black,
Praying for change,
It’s like I’m deranged,
All I do is lament,
All I do is vent,
Even after I repent,
I go home and still transgress,
Satan makes me feel like I’m something less,
Self-built barriers,
Demonic harriers,
Asking where to go,
Which seeds to sow,
I look around me and see I’m not the same,
They look at me and say lame,
Behind my back,
Trying to derail my track,
Saying how I’m whack,
How I’m a pariah,
But really I’m just about to tire,
I can’t take anymore of their phony plastic,
Maybe I’ll do something brutally drastic,
Rage still a cage,
Burning flames on my page,
They say he’s just going through that age,
But he knows its so much more,
Something from deep within his core,
His heart; his temple is being rocked,
After too many of his peers have him blocked,
Lying alone in his bed,
Healing will take place they said,
All he feels right now is dead,
Does faith have enough street-cred?
What will happen on the thirty-first?
Will I continue to be cursed?...

Yahweh's Retort

2005-10-28T22:23:00.000-04:00

Yahweh’s Retort

Satan spoke to me in the darkest watch of last night,
His deceptive words and lies tricked me to incite,
Rage at people I just want to love,
I forgot about forgiveness and the one above,
I screamed to my creator on his throne,
Why I was in my situation; seemingly alone,
But how could one so divine,
Be betrayed by those he had over to dine,
How could he understand,
How people have left me for a more fruitful land,
The devil gripped my heart,
And tore all that was good in me apart,
Then my God reminded me of the wizard sage,
Who was speaking to that hobbit around my own spiritual age,
That I must make good on the time that I have,
Even when it seems I can’t even walk that path,
Then I saw my king strung up on the cross,
I was able to remember the cost,
That my savior has been where I have been,
He has seen the travesties I have seen,
He, too, wondered if he was forsaken,
His intentions were also gravely mistaken,
He was there before,
And he knows that for him I could soar,
I want to truly understand his affection,
I want to see past the human infection,
Walking down the center of this town,
Teaching of blood shed on a thorny crown,
Preaching love of brothers,
Sending the hearts of the children back to their broken mothers,
I am beloved,
I have friends; forget what I said,
I pray for my lord’s mercy,
For his Agape I am thirsty,
He loves my every part,
For me he has such a big heart,
Even when I cry to him why I am forsaken,
Even when I feel like all my joy has been taken,
I no longer want to be the shadow boy,
I will show all the world the reason for my unabated joy,
Abba loves you I will cry on,
As that drumbeat heralds the coming of the new Zion...

"Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage"

2005-10-27T22:32:00.000-04:00

ANGER

Green Thunder

Shadows swirl,
Defeated angels curl,
Scholarly stagnation,
Trampled elation,
Creeping depression,
Growing obsession,
Pained rage,
Bloody page,
Imprisonment,
God sent?
Dreaming of the stars,
Visions of electric guitars,
There is no spoon,
There is no more room,
Mounting hate,
Second chances are too late,
Hanging crosses,
Tyrannical bosses,
Am I living my own burial?
Searching for Ariel
Crying to the Lord,
I’m the one with the worst hand on the board,
I’ve been this way for years,
I’ve put up with the evil spirits’ jeers,
I’m not sure how longer I can take this rejection,
Longing, staring at my ugly reflection,
I can hear the voices,
The ones on each shoulder at every one of my choices,
All crying DISORDER!
I’m stuck in isolated Mordor,
All I can hear is the methodic drumming,
I have to dance to that constant thrumming,
Even though I can’t move,
I got a God to prove,
Even through my doubts,
So I can save all the heathen louts,
So….you know what?
I’m not gonna waste my emotions on you and turn into a raving nut,
I despise you people,
Let others pray to you on your fair steeple,
I’ll let you fester,
I’m no longer gonna pester,
Staring at the gravestone,
Gazing at my illuminated monitor; in the dark; all alone,
What have I got to live for?
A chance to rise from my chains and soar?
But every time I glance at the Holy Grail,
I don’t really believe, and I fail,
I stare at the ground,
And wonder if I’ve truly been found,
Away from the populous,
Living in the gutters of Metropolis,
Looking for a way out,
Encircled by doubt,
What would I do if I found a gun?
Trust me…. that day at my school would not be fun,
Watch them go to the fair one and bow,
As they pray to their gods and give them a fattened cow,
All this pain bottled up,
Overflowing in life’s cup,
Don’t know where to go with my life and this poem,
Not in the in crowd; don’t even know any of them,
I can’t even by taken away from here; beamed,
Running down the mountain I have dreamed,
Anger at the world,
My flag of rage unfurled,
Righteousness tainted,
Blood upon the walls will be painted,
Then they’ll know how it is to be dead,
Lying all alone, unable to move from their bed,
I lie there by myself while listening to rap,
Stagnant in life’s sweat and crap,
Always getting the girls you don’t want,
While the ones you do just smile at you and taunt,
It’s not fair,
Watching all the pairs,
By yourself,
Watching the formerly empty window shelf,
If I gain a fortune,
They’ll be on me before the next June,
It doesn’t truly matter,
But everyone else is allowed to flatter,
Not the cripple,
Not the cripple,
He’s all by himself in the corner,
Watching his life pass him by; the mourner,
His smile is broken,
Even when he is jokin’
He used to be glad,
Before he became melancholic and sad,
That was before he realized how it really is,
This is how they do it in the life biz,
Life’s not a fairy tale,
So I’m gonna raise my sad sail,
In my small boat,
In a storm without a coat,
I’m just a joke
I’ll just go smoke a tree like an average bloke,
Why should I try anyway?
I have to work three times as hard to get the same pay,
So why should I care?
I’m just the fat stupid teddy bear,
What are these visions of green lightning,
And blue dreams that are truly frightening,
What are they?
Who was really born on the thirtieth of May?
Will he burn the righteous with wood,
Or stand up for what is good,
He doesn’t know,
All he knows is teenage aggression and its makin’ him low,
He’s still a cripple,
He is still just as fickle,
But he’s angry,
And it won’t last,
Maybe they’ll hear with a violent gat blast…

All Hallows Eve

2005-10-27T21:25:00.000-04:00

Dear Bros,

Our creative writing teacher told us to write something about Halloween. So I did, this really reflects my mood...how I feel really stagnent and alone at school. Anyway, enjoy......

God Bless
elscribe

All Hallows Eve

Come, minions of the night,
Take from those who strive to do right,
Dance to your heathen gods,
While you prostrate yourselves on our holy sods,
Follow the path of wrong,
Follow the night and her seductive song,
Sing your devil chants,
Stab the clean knights with your dark lance,
Cast your spell,
Dig yourself into hell,
Let all the children come and learn,
How to rape, pillage, and burn,
Let then treat and trick,
While hellish flames lick,
Raise up a temple to Baal,
As bright leaves rapidly fall,
Shadows is all I see,
Haunting images of a dead and blackened tree,
No more light,
As you demons stalk through the night…

Older Poems (from like two months ago)

2005-10-23T19:36:00.000-04:00

Riddle

Muddled
Befuddled
Unknown,
Not quite sown,
Confused,
Bemused,
Misunderstood,
Standing where nobody else would,
Alone,
No one to phone,
Respected,
Rejected….

Harvest

High school walls,
Rampant Sauls,
Battle commencing,
No more recompensing,
Morality skewed,
Redemption’s chance renewed,
Lucifer’s nest,
Demonic spirits infest,
Lines drawn,
Faith’s dawn,
Sides taken,
Holy words mistaken,
Dwindling good,
Burning wood,
Flags raised,
Idols praised,
Battleground,
Souls to be found…

The Ballad of Pan

2005-10-23T19:31:00.000-04:00

The Ballad of Pan

Even though at times I can be sad,
You, Lord, come to me and lift my spirits so I am glad,
I worship your worthy name,
Now the beast within me is finally at rest; tame,
For I have much to praise you for,
Even though it may seem to me that I am constantly at war,
I remember what was said about a baby boy, who would probably fade away by the time he was five,
But because of you, he’s still here, very much alive,
I thank you for all the people I have around,
How when that boy was sick his mother’s prayers did resound,
Even when that boy was near the gate of the dead,
His mother’s loving lullabies were still being said,
While the statue watched,
While Lucifer’s plans were botched,
Peter Pan, made of rock, stood outside,
A memento of how his creator to the hospice tithed,
I am thankful that I have a shadow like Pan,
One who knows that in all my dreams I ran,
You, my shadow, will not leave even when my sins never stop being piled,
I pray to be like Peter, that rock, that immortal child,
When you call my name, like a kid, I want to giggle,
I want no portion of the adult cynic left to wiggle,
Truly only children can see your face,
For they are the epitome of this; our human race,
Set in my heart your rightful tent,
Let me no longer lament,
My shadows only one that I am beside,
Even when everything is screwed up; seeming to have died,
I pray for you to always love me,
That I may forever be like a child; on your warm knee,
I want to lean on your shepherd’s cane,
As I walk beside you along the truest lane…

Jesus Burger

2005-10-20T21:52:00.000-04:00

Dear Bros,

I was just reading John 6:35-47, where Jesus is telling some of the Jews about how he is the bread that fell from heaven. After reading this, God put this poem in my head, hope you guys enjoy it:

God Bless
elscribe

Jesus Burger

Jesus, you are the bread,
Your path is the one I choose to tread,
I want to lose myself in you,
I don’t want to be among those who are blue,
I want to dwell in your house,
Lying on your fuzzy lion’s back like a small mouse,
Like the shepherd king,
Among his sheep did sing,
Who played his melodious harp,
While gazing at the wondrous things you created; like the comically colorful carp,
He also had nobody to hear his psalms,
Your heavenly rye did come to him and bring calms,
You are the wheat that fell from heaven,
On my front porch as the clock struck seven,
I took a big bite of your spiritual nourishment,
As I realized that when I confessed my sins there would be no punishment,
After I realized that I had just gone to the drive-thru,
And had been birthed again; anew,
Picking up the Christ Mac,
I’m glad I don’t have to give any of my bucks back,
While the rest of the world is still gulping down their Gerber’s
I’ll be chomping on my Jesus Burger…

'Till Jesus Comes

2005-10-17T21:31:00.000-04:00

‘Till Jesus Comes

Here I sit; broken hearted,
Came to play; the others all departed,
Shadows invade my corner and fester,
To others I am just a mere flea; one who will pester,
Sometimes my mind is filled with aggression,
I am caged in stifled progression,
I look through the bars,
Forced to bow to the beautifully clean tsars,
Far off in the distance I hear the drumbeat mounting,
Waiting for my day of budding; furiously counting,
I wake every morning,
To the sun’s early dawning,
I rest when the sky is red at night,
It is my; the psalmist’s delight,
I pray to the eternal,
For him to save me from the fiery infernal,
He hears my lonely lament,
He hears my cry for my faith in him to be like cement,
Not quite a Man,
Though not quite damned,
I sing a song happily,
Though slightly off key; and some will say quite crappily,
This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine,
For the love I see around me I will rhyme,
So, this little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine,
Let it shine,
Let it shine,
Let it shine,
‘Till Jesus Comes,
‘Till Jesus Comes,
‘Till Jesus Comes…

Brothers in Arms (Two Little Boys Edited)

2005-10-13T12:33:00.000-04:00

Brothers in Arms
for john

Snow fell from the heavens, covering the wintry countryside in a thick blanket of purest white. Clouds cloaked the sky completely in a dull gray dome. A sleepy country village sat huddled against rolling hills. Its Tudor buildings clinging to each other like frightened children in the blizzard. Roofs seemed to be painted with the snow, icicles frozen in eternal falls dripped from their weathered tiles.
Two travelers trudged through the snow, heading for the village’s central tavern. The inn’s lights guided them, a lighthouse amidst a churning sea. Candles flickered from the frosted windows; projecting what little warmth they held to the blistering cold outside, as the taller of the two guided his diminutive companion through the less dense patches of snow. Nearing the door, the tall figure turned back to his friend, a benevolent smile on his youthful face.
“Here we are Dravin, in Gribble, right outside the Drunken Dragon Inn. Be cautious around here, I hear the Gribble Guard doesn’t have a very good sense of humor. I don’t want any little episode with you like we had in Lubton. Are we clear?” he said, a bemused look spreading across his face. Dravin, his three foot short companion, smiled awkwardly, his head slightly too big in proportion to the rest of his body.
“Aww…Joken, what did I do that was so bad in Lubton? I had a jolly time with that wench!”
“Yes...until her father discovered that poem you wrote for her. I think he probably must have been pretty distressed while he was reading about his daughter’s lips in such poetic and excruciating detail. You know that humans don’t take kindly to your Halfling kind!” replied Joken.
“Well…it would have worked if you hadn’t rushed me. That poem would have been safe, but I ran and it fell out of my pouch. Watch…one day I’ll find a human female that takes a fancy to midgets!”
“You shouldn’t call yourself that. Your kind is much more noble than mine. My kind is constantly warring, fighting, raping, stealing, plundering, and all manner of unseemly practices. Your kind have lived in peaceful existence with one another for millennia, just quietly farming.”
“I hate farming. The animals relieve themselves way too much than they should physically be able to. An’ when you eat them it takes four hours to chew on the bloody steak. The only good thing they had goin’ for them in Bumfluff Manor was the weed. Ok, fine, I’ll behave myself here. But if there are any blondes…” Dravin’s voice trailed off as he received a withering look from his human companion.
Pushing the rotting tavern door in, Joken and Dravin waltzed through the frame. A cavernous room greeted them. As Joken closed the door, a gush of wind blew in snow, sucking warmth from the tavern into the frigid night. As the door shut, the two friends looked around. The inn encircled them in an oval shape. A second level rose above the first; wooden barricades were built around this higher floor, and stopped drunkards from falling to the first floor. Wooden rafters hung over the two travelers’ snow flaked heads. All manor of human drank, danced, and reveled as Joken led Dravin through the convulsing crowd.
Reaching the oak bar, they faced the bartender. Dravin’s head just slightly rose above the counter, as he tried to crane his non-existent neck to regard the grisly barman. Joken pushed back his brown hair as he ordered Dragonmilk for he and Dravin.
“We don’t serve non-humans at the bar. You should clean your feet of dirt before you come.” Joken glared at the malicious bartender; rage bubbling up from a well deep within him. Shifting his cloak so the hilt of his broadsword just showed, Joken again asked the man for some drinks. The man hesitated for a moment, his grey eyes shifting uneasily. Deciding that he did not wish to aggravate the customer, the man passed over a couple of filled mugs.
“Alright, I’ll serve you. You’ll have to go in the back booths where all the dwarfs are. Shortie here will feel right at home.” he chuckled, as Dravin and Joken headed for the booths under the second floor’s walkway.
About a dozen tables consisted of the back booths. Most of the round tables were filled with gangs of dwarfs merrily drinking and singing. Their bushy beards appeared drenched in every form of alcohol ever conceived, as their armor clinked while they swayed in time to an old dwarf rhyme. A few slammed their hammers down on the wooden tables, a beat to sing along to:
‘Twas ten centuries ago this day, this day,
That down’ in the mines of ole’ they say, they say,
That the scalie Tinwing did pay, did pay,
For all he had done down ‘neath the clay, ‘neath the clay,
When the legions of fabled Pangard came to play, came to play,
The dragon did die to his dismay, his dismay,
And all the dwarfs in the ancient hall cried out, Horray! Horray!
Joken and Dravin wisely sat as far away from the dwarfs as possible, as the song ended with a brawl when a few teenage dwarfs had added a few rude lines of their own creation to the revered tune. Dravin watched his Dragonmilk burst into flames a few times, the flammable liquid gushing out of the tankard and scorching the table with its acidity.
Eyeing his sullen companion mischievously, Dravin took a huge swig of the dangerous substance, slamming the tankard back down with a shaking hand. Opening his mouth, the Halfling burped out a small fireball. Flames skidded across the abused surface of their table. The short-lived flames died out just before they reached Joken at the other side of the table. With his brown eyes glinting ruefully, Joken chugged his own Dragonmilk and slopped it back down on the protesting table. Opening his mouth, Joken burped, and a gigantic fireball spewed from his mouth. Dravin jumped, falling backwards over his chair, his rotund body seeming to bounce off the stone floor of the tavern. Joken’s fireball vanished in mid-air, unused to the cold temperature this far away from where it had been taken from its home in the udder of a jungle dragon.
Joken laughed uproariously as his friend groped for his chair that had fallen on top of him. Seating himself back down, the Halfling glared at his friend, and then began to sip the rest of his fiery milk in humbled silence.
Joken scanned the room, his eyes taking in the assorted humans that entertained themselves in the lighter and more comfortable areas of the tavern. A wench was stretched out among what looked like a whole contingent of some barbarous army; the men seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. A singer sang in the center platform of the room, ignored by almost everyone in the musty tavern. All the other humans seemed not to notice the human that had accompanied the Halfling in.
Turning his attention back to Dravin, Joken smiled. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. His place was with Dravin, his loyal companion. If humankind didn’t want Dravin, Joken didn’t want humankind.
The entrance to the tavern was suddenly thrown open, several members of the Gribble guard strode in, their extravagant red capes billowing behind them. Joken automatically jumped up, his hardened battle instincts kicking in. Dravin looked up from his empty tankard, his blue eyes drunkenly watching the armored men march up to their table.
“We heard there was a Halfling infesting our humble village! Typical…its primitive mind couldn’t comprehend the signs all around Gribble that said NO HALFLINGS! You and your SHORT kind shouldn’t be permitted to breathe our air!” said the lead guard, his well kempt face sneering.
Before either of the companions could react, the dwarfs behind them ceased their arguing and sprinted to the guards, their beards bristling with indignation.
“Who…may we ask, are you calling SHORT? We are not short…we are vertically challenged…and I’ll have you be reminded that derogatory remarks to people under the height of four feet is not to be tolerated! You pink monkeys!” said the dwarf who was acting as leader. Turning to Joken and Dravin with a calm expression, the dwarf said:
“Alright, lads, that will suffice for racial slurs! I would advise that you two take out your weapons…assuming you have them, of course. I also advise that you chaps run far way from here…very far away…there is about to be a lot of blood, booze, and hopefully later babes! We’ll keep Gribble busy ‘till the sun comes up! Cheerio!”
No sooner had the words flowed from the dwarf’s mouth than Joken had unsheathed his broadsword and Dravin had brandished an uncountable number of lethal looking daggers. The Gribble guard had also reacted too, taking out their scimitars and waving them around as if to frighten off what they viewed as armored fur balls. The dwarfs leapt from their positions, causing the whole tavern to burst into a bar fight. Chairs were flung left and right as humans jumped at any excuse to rebel against their strict authorities. The dwarfs motioned for the two companions to run out the door. The fur balls banging large hammers on their helmeted skulls and the raucous human population distracted the Gribble guards. One guard caught sight of Dravin making his way through the tumultuous crowd. Aiming a miniature crossbow at the Halfling the guard smiled. Before he could pull the trigger however, Joken knocked the crossbow out of his hands, and ran him through with his broadsword, pushing the body into a crumpled heap on the floor.
Opening the tavern door quietly, the pair crept out into the blizzard. Shutting the door behind him, Dravin blew a big sigh of relief, as the noise of the ensuing bar fight filtered through the chipped door. Turning, he took Joken’s side. Whistling for the two ponies that had ridden them here, Joken and Dravin jumped on their small mounts. The two bolted into the dwindling light.
Riding a large pony, Joken struggled to keep his feet from dragging on the mounting snow. Watching Dravin drift off to sleep on the white pony trotting alongside him, Joken smiled inwardly. He watched his companion sleepily, almost not wanting to doze in fear of something happening to his friend. Dravin was all he had. Joken had felt a strong bond with Dravin almost immediately after meeting him, and they had made quick friends. Now, Joken knew that they would protect each other with their lives. They were truly brothers. Bonds like that were never severed. Joken watched his friend as his blue eyes closed. Dravin knew he would be safe with Joken close by. The night enveloped the duo, as the blizzard swirled around them unhampered…

Streetwise(edited version)

2005-10-09T17:38:00.000-04:00

Dear Brothers and Sisters (sisters...yeah...I wish ;)),

Ok....I finally wrote down some of what occured when some of us went down to see Greg in New Paltz. Great stuff, as you will see. Ok...I'd like Cliff's and Greg's...and anyone else's input as what to take out and put into this work. It's not done yet, only first draft you see. I also cut down the amount of characters so there are only three of us even though there were more of us there. I have also changed the names and some of what people said around.....but don't worry....even the Dog's name is thought out to some extent. So tell me what you think, help me edit! I think its ok...but it could be alot better. BTW: If any of the material offends you...like how I described you....its not my fault :) Anyway, call me.....

God Bless
elscribe

David Blundell
Creative Writing

Streetwise

A midsummer breeze blew colorful banners around, giving the street side buildings they were hanging from a slightly more festive look. Early evening sunlight cast shadows on the cobbled streets of the busy town. Cars passed the sidewalk, seldom slowing to glimpse the multitude of pedestrians that seemed to crawl out of the cracked granite and slate. Roadside buildings rose high above street level, their balconied second floors overlooking the growing Saturday evening nightlife.
I followed Gabriel and Percy as they weaved their way through the convulsing crowd. I could tell they had done this sort of thing many times before. Intimidated by the street denizens that seemed to cling to steps near the sidewalk, I made sure as not to get too far behind my friends. I looked down at gothic complexions of many of the pedestrians, fearing they might stab me or shove a marijuana joint down my throat any second. Eyes glanced up at me, irises barely noticeable behind all the deep black or purple eye shadow. Smoke billowing out of a nearby restaurant permeated my nostrils, reminding me of a church barbecue a few years ago.
Percy suddenly stopped, his spectacled face turning to a corner café to the left of us.
-I’m hungry-
-You’re always hungry, Sir Percival of the Dinner Table- I said jokingly.
-Well guys, we can stop for a few donuts…seeing as how we’re not doing much- added Gabe, settling himself down on the concrete steps that led up to the café.
-I’ll bring the donuts out here…the inside looks kinda sketchy- I said, as I opened the chipped door. Paying for three jelly donuts was simple: within only five minutes the three of us were sitting on the stone steps gorging ourselves on the snacks.
A dog sniffed near us, its floppy ears bouncing up and down jovially as he attempted to snap at my donut. Too slow to react, I jumped out of the way only to see seemingly lethal fangs clamp down on the jelly goodness that had once been mine. This amused my two companions immensely as the dog’s owner came running up to his furry companion. The man, about fifty, sheepishly turned to my laughing friends and me.
-Sorry! Sorry! Bud here can get really friendly sometimes. Can I buy you another donut?-
-It’s ok…I thought something like this might happen in New Paltz, I had forgotten how crowded it can get on the street on a Saturday night- interjected Gabe.
-Oh…you guys from around here then? asked the man, who took a seat on the stone steps next to us.
-Well, I grew up here, but these guys live down in Westchester. We met at a church down there-
-This is Gabe and Dave, and I am Percival, very nice to meet you- added Percy, holding out his once tattooed arm.
-Hey, nice to meet you all. Samuel’s my name. I live a couple blocks from here. So you live in Westchester now, Gabe?- said the man, Samuel
-No…I moved to Kansas City almost a year ago. I had an opportunity over there.- replied Gabe. I was waiting with baited breath for the hammer to fall. I wondered how Samuel would react.
-…. God’s really doing a lot over there with me- The hammer fell. I could almost here its metaphorical clanging sound resound in my head. The man did not seem at all perturbed, to my astonishment.
-You guys really religious or something then?- replied the man, a more interested expression on his bearded face now.
-I wouldn’t call myself religious. I see it as more of a relationship with my God. Without all the trappings of religion that I believe separate one from their God.-
-That is a good way of putting it. All these people ask me my ‘religion’ and I’m never exactly sure what to say…but you just said it in a nutshell- I added.
-So…who is your God then?- Samuel said, trying to keep Bud from molesting a passing pigeon.
-The God of my forefathers: Yahweh, Abba….Jehovah-
-So…your…. Protestants then?- asked Samuel tentatively, obviously confused by Gabe’s answer.
-Again, not quite. We like to be called just plain Christians. We don’t go by the strict laws of some Protestant churches, all we follow is the Bible…Mere Christianity- added Percy, theatrically waving his arms around.
-Who is your God?- Gabe shot back, an inquisitive look on his well kempt face.
-Well, I come from a Jewish background, and I believe some of the beliefs that go along with that faith, but also…well…I don’t believe in God in the conventional sense. Don’t get me wrong, I do believe in God like my persecuted ancestors. They really did have a strong faith; during the Holocaust…my father and mother were put into concentration camps…but God came through for them. and they were able to survive and move out here. My belief that God is…. more of an omnipotent presence. Like, I believe he is everywhere. There’s a part of him in all of us. We all have God in us.-The warning bells began to sound off in my head. I realized this had some truth to it, but I could tell in the direction this was going, and I knew I would disagree with it. –Most people don’t know that, and it’s only a certain number of people that become enlightened like that. Enlightened ones like Mohammed, Buddha and-
-Jesus said there was only one way to truly find God. He said “I am the way, the truth, and the life, no man comes to my Father but through me”. That is the one of our core beliefs. He wasn’t enlightened- he didn’t have to be- he knew who he was. He knew that he had to do a task for the Lord. He knew that people needed something before the end times- Gabe softly but firmly said.
-Well, I didn’t know he said… I believe in the end times too. Only, I believe that the world will end when people lose their egos. Like all wars, conflicts, and most troubles in the world, is due to people and their big egos. I think that if people just gave up their egos they’d be enlightened…and I believe…truly find God…truly find themselves-
-Well, definitely people won’t have egos anymore after the end of the world- joked Percy, causing both Gabe and I to chuckle under our breath.
The sun had begun to slowly set during our conversation, as most pedestrians faded back into the growing night. Now too late for shadows, I could feel chills running up my back as the heat of the day left the street to steam in the coolness of night. The sidewalk was now all but vacated, as cars became few and far between on the road in front of us.
-Let’s pray for you, Samuel, would you mind that?- questioned Gabe, standing from his stone seat to stretch. Obviously taken aback at first by my friend’s proposition, Samuel agreed as we all bowed our heads in reverence to God, whatever that might be for us. Gabe began to pray.
-Lord, I ask you to come to Samuel. Let him know who you are. Let him know who he truly is. Show him how much you love him. This conversation we had here on the street was no coincidence. No, you brought him here, to us, for a reason. I thank you for bringing him here tonight. I know he has been searching. Let him no that he no longer has to search. His quest is finally over. Let him know your love. Your agape! Amen.” We all uttered hushed amen’s, even Samuel though a much more feeble amen than Gabe’s.
-…. Thank you guys. Have a good night. Interesting to hear what you had to say. Enjoy New Paltz!- said Samuel, taking Bud by the leash and leisurely walking down the street, obviously musing on what had just transpired.
-God Bless!- I called after him, as I saw Bud’s tail disappear behind the corner of the café.
-Do you think he’ll find out the truth?- I asked Gabe.
-Yea….he will. The Lord has a plan for him. A rebirthing started here tonight.- With that, we all stood up and began to walk back the way we had came, as the café disappeared behind us. The café’s sign hung above my head, so I chanced a glance at its wooden frame and stopped dead in astonishment. Ariel’s Coffee House was scruffily scrawled on it, and Percy and I exchanged shocked glances. Jerusalem! I could see him mouth even through the darkness. Even I knew that sometimes Ariel was used as an poetic name for Jerusalem, the holiest city on earth. Israel was where it was all going to end.
-I will show you greater works than these, it is written. Come, the night is young! - quoted Gabe, a smile spreading above his dark goatee. I smiled as I began to stroll along the street, gazing at the now twinkling stars above me. Hallelujah!

System Switch

2005-09-29T21:17:00.000-04:00

System Switch

In 1991, an interviewer from the music magazine Rolling Stone asked rock/folk legend Bob Dylan if he was happy after all of his successes in the music industry. The aged singer replied, “Happy is a Yuppie Word”. This is the premise for the alternate-inspirational band Switchfoot’s newest album Nothing is Sound. This San Diego originated band came from a largely surfing culture, thus their name is a surfing term. To a surfer, when you switch your feet on your board, you have a new perspective on the wave, and have a slightly different way of surfing when your feet are switched. The band took this to show how they have a slightly different outlook on life than most bands and artists in the music industry. Responsible for earlier hits such as “Meant to Live, Dare You to Move, and the Beautiful Letdown”, this band has risen to incorporate a much broader audience. Recorded mainly on the road on their seemingly never ending tours, Nothing is Sound has a more improvised feel to most of their other albums such as Learning to Breathe, New Way to be Human and the Beautiful Letdown. The lead singer of Switchfoot, Jon Foreman, ran with this Dylan quote, even writing a song by the same name to have this new album revolve around this thoughtful statement. From this originating seed, an album grew. Attempting to debunk all the normal accepted values of our western American society, Switchfoot talks about how cookie cutter our society has become, from commercialization to the corruption of politicians in our day and age. Even though this usually progressive band attempts to progress their music to a more global level, I believe their music does not progress very much from when their last album, the Beautiful Letdown. While their lyrics may stray from Letdown, their vocals and instrumental portions still sound very similar to their previous album. A few songs progress their musical style, such as the vocal and acoustic Blues and edgy rock single Stars, however only Daisy comes close to their usual standard on this album. The things that make these songs stand out is oftentimes their lyrics, which talk about the members of Switchfoot and their spiritual lives, it is also created to make people think about their lives and introspect. The music, especially Politicians in this album, is also to make people think about the world that surround them and the ways in which they can improve it.
Another new rock album that discusses in their music the hypocrisy our society is System of a Down’s new album, Mezmerize. This heavier rock band’s previous album, Toxicity, also discussed this theme, however many believe Mezmerize does this to greater and more profound effect. Songs about the never-ending scandal slideshow that is the televised media song, Violent Pornography uses a gratuitous metaphor to get across System’s views on how the media has become sensationalist. Anti-war songs such as B.Y.O.B. and Sad Statue compliment the rest of the album, adding to the anti-societal gist of Mezmerize. Lost in Hollywood also adds to this theme, however it is more analyzing the Hollywood and music industry of our age and how it has the tendency to corrupt people, both artists and audiences.
Both these alternate-Rock bands add a slightly different slant to the normal boundaries of what rock has evolved into today. Though vastly different in vocal and instrumental styles, both offer a different view of life than many other bands on the modern music industry.

Walking

2005-09-23T22:02:00.000-04:00

Brothers,

Ok.....so I emailed that dark poem Anderson to the teacher who does the literary magazine at my school. It bounces back because the email on our school system was broken. A sort of sign, I think, kind of like, God tryna tell me to rewrite, slightly less angry....because I'm all bout the fileo...and Anderson was a little to angry at myself. So yea, I'm gonna reuse from lines from Anderson, but this is be a better poem.

God Bless
elscribe

Walking

Sitting out on the sidelines,
Outside of society's guidelines,
Alone; rolling through town,
Shy; not making a sound,
Those lonely days have passed,
My solitude constricts me like a steel cast,
Fed up with cold brick walls,
You'll hear my voice ricoocheting from these high school halls,
I can't take this solitude anymore,
I'll come thundering down like the mythological Thor,
Some things I did in the past were wrong,
This is why I'm singing this remorseful song,
My jail bars burst open,
I was tired of all the self mopin',
My anxious energy was used for evil deeds,
Then angels began planting the right seeds,
The darkness rolled back,
After a giant spiritual thundercrack,
I stepped through the door,
To a place I'd never truly been before,
A man stands there and smiles,
He pushes my wrongs away in piles,
He knows I'm not accepted on this earth,
He knows why I've cried to him since deformed birth,
He sees through this school,
How all the girls and boys can be cruel,
When theres a bunch of flowers near a cactus,
If they speak; the flowers lose their social status,
His minions send us dreams,
We see birght ethereal gleams,
Through him I'm spitting rhymes,
I'm jumping over this caste system's borderlines,
I'm the resident cripple,
And I'm starting a righteous ripple,
I still can see that man outside my gate,
He and I are linked by fate,
He knows my every thought,
He knows that in the wrong things I have sought,
He understands my deepest desires,
That sometimes I get caught in the meaningless crossfires,
I've been discarded by the discarded,
I can't believe that some of you even speculate if I'm retarded
Perhaps it's cuz I am,
I flirt like a battering ram,
Nobody seems to listen,
Perhaps they'll see his holy sword glisten,
I've found a reason to decree
That I want to be; his strong and fruitful tree,
I let in the sunlight,
My savior's given me his sight,
In a moment all sins I commited fades away,
And I'm waiting for that beutiful day,
When I am no longer desperately stalking,
When I'll be strolling down the mountain, walking, walking, walking....

Lovelorn

2005-09-22T20:25:00.000-04:00

Lovelorn

An overcast sky hung over a small suburban main street, casting a gray aura on the bustling sidewalk and road. Pedestrians hurried along the pavement, some with small children following them, others with bags of shopping dangling from their flustered arms. Cars passed by the pavement, their wheels rolling over a steaming tarmac of the road. A summer storm was inevitable, almost as if teasing the thirsty village. Clouds seemed to tumble over each other, a jumble of darkness threatening the earth, almost as if trying to oppress the usual happiness of summer. A tension filled the town, as the storm tried to snap out of its slumber.
I shuffled down the street uncomfortably, the heat enveloping me in a bubble of exhaustion. My bones stuck together in the humidity, almost as If glued to my sides. I fondly passed by all the store signs that I had long since memorized. The wooden boards read things like: George’s hardware store, and Blue Sun cosmetics. The bakery had its menu for the day scrawled onto an easel chalkboard, and I attempted to picture a Great Wall of Chocolate.
Turning the corner on the edge of the street, I got a glimpse of green. Frozen, I could hear my heart begin to thump like the dinner bell in a jail. I knew I could not be mistaken, their standing in the center of the sidewalk serenely, was radiance herself. She was gazing at a bird flying around up in the overcast sky, her amber eyes perusing the bird swooping and diving. Her perfectly tan skin contrasted the dullness of the day, causing my palms to become clammy uncontrollably. She truly was a unicorn among the mundane horses that were other girls.
I continued my slow and steady gait down the pavement, daring not to breathe so close to her. I wished that she would at least wave to me, but her mind was on other things. Every time I saw her, my body seemed to go into temporary shock. I wanted to say hi or at least wave to her, but my throat was dried up and my arm stayed stubbornly to my side.
Passing her by without a word, I inwardly seethed at my shyness. Trapped into being her distant admirer, I wondered if I could ever bring up the nerve to greet her. Knowing that this would never be, I accepted my caged circumstances. Disappointment boiled up within me, as the heat engulfed me…

The Chronicles of Gimp (Edited version)

2005-09-14T19:12:00.000-04:00

Dear Brothers,

Here is a story I wrote for my creative writing class. The assignment was to develop a character. So i did, heavily based on me Enjoy

elscribe

David Blundell

The Chronicles of Gimp

Klingon Proverb: “Pa’ ghati ghobe’ quv Daq’, There is no honor in self-pity.”
Life really can really take a toll sometimes. You feel like you’ll collapse if you take another step. No pun intended. Things seem to pile on top of you so that you feel like a suffocated Tribble. Sometimes you wish you could be beamed out of the suburban apocalypse you call your life.
That was the feeling I got…again…one day in late August. The sun was beating down as usual, causing me to sweat profusely as I rolled down a cracked and well-used sidewalk. My chair was once again in its never-ending state of brokenness, and my engine whined constantly as if it were C-3PO. I arrived at my destination, the local food mart as the sun began to falter slightly at four o’clock in the afternoon. Han Solo in the falcon would be hard pressed to beat the time I had just made it from my house to the mart, I thought to myself gleefully. There I go geeking out again…
Wheeling myself into the mart, I was refreshed from the sweltering heat outside by air conditioners that flooded the mart with a breeze akin to paradise on a day like this. A cool feeling enveloped my substantial girth, as I made toward my most frequented aisle. A gaggle of giggling girls from my high school passed me by, not even acknowledging my existence as they strode down the aisle, their manicured bodies glistening in the artificial light. Being at belly-button level had its advantages, at least.
Halting at the candy aisle, I smiled as my eyes purveyed the luscious Mars Bars and Twinkies. Looking up at the rows upon rows of unopened bars, I swore under my breath. Typical! My favorite bar, Milky Way, was just inches out of my reach. I fervently wished I were force-sensitive. You will come down; I thought at the bar, waving my hand frantically; but it just stayed where it was as if mocking my attempt to claim it.
Settling for the M&M’s that were just below the Milky Way, I hurried to the checkout counter. A middle aged woman was right in front of me in the checkout line, her glasses almost slipping off her prominent nose. I struggled to retrieve the money that was in the back pocket of my shorts. The woman turned to me and saw that I was having trouble retrieving it. Snatching the bag of M&M’s from my deformed hand, she slapped it on the counter and pulled a dollar from her own wallet. “I’ll pay for that, enjoy these!” she said, trotting out of the mart before I could thank her.
The man behind the counter shrugged and passed me the candy bag. Crashing into the door angrily, I rolled out into the still-blazing heat. Why do people do that? I thought angrily to myself. I realized that she was trying to be kind, but sometimes I wish people wouldn’t be so generous to me as they are. Glancing at the disabled spaces outside the mart, I glared at the white figure etched into each of the blue signs. Not all of us have a big ass like that!
Words soon began to whirl around in my head like a hurricane of insecurity. I screamed to God, wishing that he would hear my bitter cries. I wished I could be a Kirk, destroying foes left and right. I guess it was not meant to be. Anger still raged through me as I rambled on down the road, thinking of bubbles and stars. The only consoling thought that ran through my mind as I gazed out at the pink sky was that a Stairway led to heaven….

"Two Little Beutiful Girls" -Eminem, Mocking(?)bird

2005-08-31T20:04:00.000-04:00

Hi again, brothers. This is an addition to my last blog, which was about camp. I have stuff to talk about that happened in camp too, which have helped me to see God more clearly, and to trust in him more. (I hope :)). Anyway, yeah, as usual, these two related stories both deal with girls at my camp. Two seperate girls, to girls that I am alot closer to because of the events of this summer, well, with atleast one of them I am alot closer.

Okay, the first instance occured toward the beginning of the summer at camp this year. I've known this girl for about...ehhh....four years. We've been friends three of those years, good friends for two years. She's pretty...and thats the only reason why I liked her...more than a friend...at the beginning of the summer. So she asked me out cuz she heard I liked her from my councilor..yes, i seek council from my camp councilors, they rly cool. But, it turns out her mom didn't want her going out on a date- cuz she's too young..w/e that means :)- shes gonna b a freshman in high school this year. So then she's like....why don't we go out behind my mom's back? And I'm like- because I have morals. So i told her we should repsect her mom...and that we shouldn't do it behind her mother's back. I told her exactly that- and rolled away. You know when you feel like you need your own personal movie soundtrack to musically accompany your day? Yea, well I felt like that then. So, yea, this girl has..after this whole thing, gone behind her mother's back and is goin out wit another guy who her mom spacifically told her not to be around....but thats enough gossip. God showed me something before then that scared me bout this girl too. You know how girls get those fake tatoos written on them sometimes? Well, yea, this girl had a tatoo version of the yin-yang on her arm...she probably doesn't even know what it means...but I subsequently looked it up, and among other things, it signifies the ancient Chinese belief that there are no morals, or no right and wrong. Perhaps God was tryna warn me about how this girl decieves her mother? So, now we still friends, but I;m cautious, and pray for her....cuz she's confused...to say the least....not that I have got it all figured out, but, she needs Jesus, definetly.....

Now, the next girl I've been friends with for two years. I have talked to her everdyay online all of last year, cept for the month she refused to talk to me, on good reason, because mid-year I asked her out three times, and each time she said no, and each time got progressively more angry at me. Anyway, cuz she's a nice person she forgave me, and me and her got really close at camp, and after the thing with tryna get me to go out with the other girl...we decided to go out...cuz she fell wheels ova wheels in love with me (lol, just kidding, but she really likes me). So we "went out" for like two days....and we held hands and the like...nothing too serious.....but i really like her. Cuz shes funny (good sense of humor, she actually laughs at all my lame jokes :)) We also have a real connection, we really understand each other. But, the problem is she is not saved...like I asked her what her feelings on God were (thats how comfortable we are), and she said she was not sure. So i kinda stayed with her, waiting on God a bit, like I knew I wasn't really supposed to be in a dating relationship with a nonbeliever, but it wasn't like I was getting married or anything?....hehehe, so I had a dream one night, and the message I got from it from God was to slowly break up with her,....kindly and smoothly. So I talked to Greg from Kansas City about it, and he said I had to make it clear that it wasn't cuz the thrill of the hunt of asking her out was why I was breaking up with her. So I decided to take an approach of slowly backing away from her, without shocking her with dumping her in all of the third day we were "going out" (yes....the fun filled years of teenager!!!) Illadvisedly I told another friend and five seconds later this friend told her...she wasn;t as mad as I thought she was gonna be, I mean she cried a bit...(no, not that much, like tears welled up in her almond eyes...and i felt like a bastard) But the next day I was able to explain to her, atleast to some extent, why I had to break off the whole thing with her. I explained to her that she and I felt differently about God, and that my being christian was an important...no, the most important, aspect of my life, and I could not contradict that with my every day actions, even if it was a teenage "We're going out!" thing. Now me and this girl are closer than we've ever been, and she's one of my best friends, so it didn't turn out badly at all. And who knows, the school year is just beginning.......

GodBless
elscribe

Gone; Like Summer break is gone....

2005-08-20T15:59:00.000-04:00

Hello peeps. I apologize for not blogging sooner. I was busy going to camp and stuff. Wow....six weeks has gone by very fast....depressing in a sense. Camp was fun, I love my peeps there. The counciors and other campers are among my closest and best freinds. It's a camp for people wit disabilities, they vary among the kids, some like me, are physical, and are more obvious than others, who have mental or emotional disabilites. All the people there are so awesome though, so much so, that I've been goin there for the past five or six years. (Still debating that with one of my councilors :)) People aren't so judgemental there as they are at school, for instance, its just....we are all really really good freinds. So much so, we're as close as the Fellowship of the Ring was. We are a tightly knit group, specially my particular group. We are all so close, we're brothers and sisters...we';ve known each other for years now....its just....something really special that happens at that camp......and now its over........I know i gotta move on, and I know Jc's always gonna be right here with me, my best freind, but its just.....at school, I mean, I talk to peeps online...but that basically the extent of my contact with peers at my skool, I mean, this is partly my fault, but its just difficult.....considering my situation, im the only really obviously physically disabled person at my school, as of last year, atleast. I dunno, it seems I'm always looking up at my peers, cuz im always sitting down in my chair, and i kno every person feels this at Hs, but I feel a rly strong sense of inferiority right now lets just say......and I got no clue what to do bout it.....anyway....gonna go.....

God bless
elscribe

DreamWeaver

2005-08-18T22:58:00.000-04:00

DreamWeaver

I have dreamed a dream,
It leads me beside a quiet stream,
Visions dance before me in the night,
Filling me with a beacon light,
Messages from the man of sand
Coming from the highland,
When all that surrounds me seems drab,
He swipes away the bitter nightmares of Mab,
Without him I would be confused,
He directs me in the ways I can be used,
He is my eternal guide,
He is always close by my side,
Dreamweaver,
Mystery revealer,
He is my solace,
He is my Morpheus….

Survey Thing

2005-08-18T22:41:00.000-04:00

*TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF - The Survey*
Name:	David
Birthday:	May 30, 1989
Birthplace:	London, England
Current Location:	Computer, where u think, dumbass?
Eye Color:	brownish
Hair Color:	dirty blonde
Height:	dunno....in wheelchair....cant tell
Right Handed or Left Handed:	Left
Your Heritage:	English
The Shoes You Wore Today:	I HAVE NO FWIGGEN CLUE, DO I LOOK LIKE A GIRL TO U?
Your Weakness:	OBSESSIVENESS
Your Fears:	drowning, bubbles
Your Perfect Pizza:	Juicy One
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year:	Pass Junior Year
Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger:	Sry
Thoughts First Waking Up:	Blonde over Blue
Your Best Physical Feature:	Eyelashes
Your Bedtime:	wheneva....i feel like it
Your Most Missed Memory:	England.....Camp
Pepsi or Coke:	Fizzy....Bleagggggghhhhhhh
MacDonalds or Burger King:	Mickey D's
Single or Group Dates:	Single
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea:	WTF?
Chocolate or Vanilla:	Chocolate
Cappuccino or Coffee:	Caffine is a Drug....0 of that
Do you Smoke:	I'm cripple enough thank you
Do you Swear:	Unfortunatly
Do you Sing:	Badly....in private
Do you Shower Daily:	No...I haven't showered in years
Have you Been in Love:	CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT LOVE IS, CUZ I GOT NO CLUE
Do you want to go to College:	YEAGH..to quote lil john
Do you want to get Married:	Yeah.....i do.........but grls wont want to wit me......
Do you belive in yourself:	God believes in me, thats enough
Do you get Motion Sickness:	No, I drive a wheelchair, i'd be bloody uselss if i did
Do you think you are Attractive:	Emotionally,yea, physically, i got man boobies, u do math
Are you a Health Freak:	no
Do you get along with your Parents:	YEA...read commandmants dumbassses
Do you like Thunderstorms:	To think bout grls in....yeah....
Do you play an Instrument:	hehehe.........
In the past month have you Drank Alcohol:	no
In the past month have you Smoked:	no
In the past month have you been on Drugs:	no
In the past month have you gone on a Date:	go away..........
In the past month have you gone to a Mall:	yes....by myself......
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos:	no...but lotta chocolate
In the past month have you eaten Sushi:	no...do i look japanese?
In the past month have you been on Stage:	yeah
In the past month have you been Dumped:	No...i did the dumping....moral decision
In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping:	hahahaha....skinny dipping.......hahaha.....(laughs bitterly)
In the past month have you Stolen Anything:	No..I wear a cross....def. no
Ever been Drunk:	um.....tipsy, not drunk
Ever been called a Tease:	yes....hahaha
Ever been Beaten up:	Spiritually
Ever Shoplifted:	No
How do you want to Die:	When its my time to go
What do you want to be when you Grow Up:	a Man
What country would you most like to Visit:	China, Isreal
*In a Boy/Girl..*
Favourite Eye Color:	All.....love all
Favourite Hair Color:	all...but blonde......ooooo....ok....gotta stop that........
Short or Long Hair:	dont care
Height:	Dunno
Weight:	Heavy
Best Clothing Style:	Bright.....happy.....not too slutty.....
Number of Drugs I have taken:	Drugs.....what u mean?
Number of CDs I own:	0....iPod
Number of Piercings:	none...wanted one...b4....awakening
Number of Tattoos:	0....want a fish one
Number of things in my Past I Regret:	Nothing, All that I've been makes who I am now....
CREATE YOUR OWN! - or - GET PAID TO TAKE SURVEYS!

Silent Scream

2005-08-03T23:46:00.000-04:00

This is a poem that came to me in the middle of the night a few days ago. It is clear what it is about. Will post another blog soon. Let the words inspire you!!!

-elscribe

Silent Scream

I hear a youthful cry,
Rising up into a blood-red sky,
Slaughter of a multitude,
Before eating their first morsel of food,
An injustice spread throughout the land,
Life spilled senselessly on the sand,
A population jaded,
Their former morals faded,
The line between right and wrong deceitfully blurred,
Unjust and misplaced rights inferred,
A generation of youth,
Wiped out as proof,
The darkness is spreading,
Its lies and cobwebs threading,
So as the blood continues to flow,
I cry out; LET MY PEOPLE GO!!!

God is Good

2005-07-06T22:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Brothers,

GOD IS GOOD!!!!! So i got camp starting on monday. Btw, this is the most awesome camp...this will be my fifth year going. I love this camp so much...i cant describe it. I love swimming, we go everyday, when I swim its rly the only time i can actually move around unrestrained and unfetterd. Above all though, especially after my first year, the best thing about this camp is the people. The councilors, the campers, everyone...I have been truly blessed going there these past few years. I have made some really good freindships over there the last years. We're all really close...almost like the fellowship of the ring, i guess you could say. Especially with alot of the councilors, I've become really good freinds with them. When I feel sad or rejected at my school, I always think of them, and it cheers me up....usually.....

Anyway, this past yr, one of my favorite councilors wasn't going to come back...grad school or something. So I prayed about it these past couple of weeks, and vwalah (is that how u spell it?) and hes comin back to camp. Though he wasn't sure if he was going to be in our group, so i prayed this prayer: I just prayed that God would put people in my group that he wants to be in my group, no more, no less. God put that councilor, and the other like five best councilors in my group that should definetly be in some sort of hall of fame are all going to be back in my group, with all of us campers. I just wanna thank God, because that was awesome. God really has a hand in my life, and when I pray, he answers, he is faithful. No doubt. Anyway, peace out!!!

God Bless
leskald/elscribe/spiky (something the girls at camp have nicknamed me :))

Independence Day: Story Explanation: Caution Spoilers!!!

2005-07-04T21:50:00.000-04:00

Brothers,

So yea..that story I just posted, is...I guess you could say..a sort of an autobiography of myself...in a strange way. It's sort of what you could say as..my testimony..sort of, not really....God is not a hot chick..but that kind of revalation/epiphany kind of thing.....its sort of what happened when 'I realized that God actually did exist...and was not what some people would say a 'sadist'...and he actually gives a damn about me. This is sort of what happens when Dravin gazes into the fathomless depths of the girl's amber eyes. He realizes that his past life has been a lie, and he finally sees things clearly...he finally is able to see the truth.
This is sort of what happened when I accepted God back into my life again almost two months back...maybe a little more, you could say. It was like opening a crinkled and yellowing book from your aged library bookshelf, and dust off its archiac cover. You've read this book countless times, it is your favorite. You open the book, and its familiar fragrance bursts off the pages, filling you with old and used book smell. You are again in the world of your favorite book. You have come back to an old freind, and it embraces you warmly. Thats kind of like what happens when you accept JC as your savior, for real. You've been gone since childhood atleast, wondering in a haunting world, away from all the books, including this one, as you realize you have been tainted by the tube, unable to break away. Like the T.V. in this analogy, the world had taken us away from JC and God, away from all that is true, all that is bright. Jesus welcomes you with open arms, welcoming you, his old freind, back into the Christian Hood. Anyway, this is sort of what the story is about...tell me if you have any critisims of this story.

God Bless
leskald

Independence Day

2005-07-04T21:01:00.000-04:00

Brothers,

Happy Independence Day!!! I hope you all enjoyed yourselves on this historical occasion. (And did not get too drunk in celebrating some old guy signing a crinkled parchment....lol, jk jk :)) As you know, I am British, so we did not celebrate the fourth of July. Call me a traitor and red-coat, but GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!!! (lol, I don't even like the royal family, just to show my unpatriotism) Anyways, I am celebrating Independence Day today...but not from another old dude in a crown who peed purple or blue or something in a movie a couple years ago....I am celebrating my independence from: WRITERS' BLOCK!!!!!! I was finally able to write a damn story...all the way through....HALLELUJA!!!! PRAISE THE LORD!!! (seriously) It is the first part of a series I am planning to do....kind of epic fantasy, I guess you could call it. Although, I really am trying to do something special with this series. I really am trying to focus on character and dialogue....two weakpoints in my writing, I think. I really want to focus on who the characters are in my stories now, like make them as believable and somebodies other bodies would wish to be around if they were real...well atleast the goodguys anyways.....:). Also, I am trying to make my dialogue (maybe if i could spell it properly I'd be better at it?) better. I won't say more realistic...because I do realize..especially in this story...my dialogue is very corny and often too dramatic. But this is also the case in LOTR and almost every other fantasy books...so I'm not gonna worry about that...right now....So yeah, see what you peeps think...I hope you like it. Classic buildingsroman; coming of age story...suprising, this is the first story I've ever written that has no action in it...well, relativley no action....ENJOY!!! :)

God Bless
leskald/elscribe......

Amber Eyes
Pink clouds rolled sluggishly above the fortified city of Drulge. Tiled roofs reflected the almost non-existent evening sunlight, their crooked smoke stacks rising up into the imminent night. Cobbled streets spiraled from the gated and walled entrances of the city to the sparkling central keep atop the highest hill in the city. The keep’s obviously unused parapets overlooked the tudor buildings below, casting an ominous shadow on the dwindling crowds of merchants, soldiers, and peasants.
A lone soldier guided his gaunt horse down an unusually quiet street. The horse’s cracked hooves clattered on the weathered stones. When his steed had come to a halt, the red-clad soldier of the Drulge home guard dismounted. Placing his battered helmet under the chain mail on his arm, the dark haired youth gazed ahead of him as half a dozen mounted guards barreled down the street.
The heavily armored soldier in front, a Captain, dismounted smoothly from his bulky steed, and marched up to the young guard.
“Brice- you ready for the battle? I hear the rebel “Darkhammer” have assembled just outside the city. Prince Niamack has even allowed his palace guard to aide us in the coming battle. We are here to collect the wenches on this street for the High knights, so that they will be merry!” announced the captain, his cape billowing in the evening wind. Brice, the young soldier, nodded his head to the captain in acknowledgement.
“I look forward to seeing you at the Battle eve banquet at the palace tonight, Captain Grizbane.” Brice replied; smiling, his icy blue eyes perusing the dismounting soldiers.
The mustached captain nodded his approval. Behind him, his men began to knock on wooden doors, their gauntleted hands slamming on unsuspecting houses. Maidens began to be dragged out, the fear on their faces broadcasting their terror to Brice. A carriage behind the guardsmen’s horses was rolled up to the front. The wenches were piled in, their delicate bodies roughly jumbled into the cramped space.
One fair-headed maiden struggled at the carriage’s steps, slamming her small elbow into the guardsman’s unprotected nose. The red-garmented guard went down, his hand grasping at his face, the pain turning the area a bright shade of red. The wench headed straight for the captain, rage at the injustice evident on her beautiful complexion. Stopping an inch away from Grizbane’s prominent nose, the wench gave him an intense gaze.
Brice watched a few feet away unable to move. The girl, not much older than Brice, spat in the captain’s face. Outraged, the captain slammed his hand into the side of her head, sending her smashing into the cobbled ground.
“Bring me a sword! We will make an example of this one who breaks the Prince’s code!” he spluttered. In defiance, the maiden rose to her feet, the right side of her face bruised and smeared with blood.
“You speak of a code, but what ever happened to the sacred code? The code set down by Niamack’s ancestors, the code of Knighthood. It spoke of chivalry and honor. This is not honor!” By this time the guards were shuffling uneasily in their boots, slightly perturbed by the woman’s speech. “You cowards steal from our families. We barely have enough food down in the streets, while you: the Prince and his so-called knights grow fat on meats from all across the land of Trevorder!” Brice looked at the other knights around him, a touch of shame entering his heart. “The last true knights have been driven away into the wilderness. All that is left is you and the scum you call an army!” she bellowed, the strength in her words ringing out for all present to hear.
Striding over to Brice, the young woman stopped a few feet away. Her amber eyes burned into his cold blue eyes. A fire blazed behind them, giving her the strength to retaliate. Something about them hit Brice, causing him to turn away. Not even in the eyes of the High Knights before they went into battle could match the passion he saw in hers. Something in them pierced his young soul, fighting against ideas and customs that Brice had learned to accept and embrace long ago.
“You- boy, do you think this is worth fighting for? To fight for a kingdom that does this to her people? Who eats herself from the inside? This is tyranny, are you willing to die for it?” her eyes seemed to burn into Brice’s soul, even though he was looking down at the stones below him.
Suddenly, the girl was grabbed from behind. Looking up, Brice watched in numb horror as she was thrown to the street. Brice locked eyes with her unintentionally, as Grizbane placed his foot on her head. A lethal saber hung from his hands, its sharp blade twinkling evilly in the fading sunlight. The depths of her amber eyes tortured Brice’s heart.
Turning in the opposite direction, Brice slowly headed for the Palace. A loud swishing noise from behind caused him to suddenly stop. Silence reigned in the street, save for the exasperated breaths of the Captain. A sick feeling crept into Brice’s stomach. Something seeped into his boots, trickling over both his feet. Looking down, Brice gasped in horror as warm, dark, red blood pooled around his feet, running down the stone gaps. A tear swelled in the boy’s eye, his confusion and helplessness about the situation causing him to close his eyes.
Wishing to be as far away from the bloodstained street as possible, Brice mounted his horse. Coaxing his steed into a gallop, he allowed the tears to freely flow down his cheeks. Not a veteran of many wars, the young Brice began to tilt from side to side in his saddle. His vision blurred rapidly, and soon everything faded into darkness…

Brice awoke with his head immersed in soft pillows. Opening his sore eyelids he took stock of his surroundings. A dimly lit, yet familiar stone chamber greeted him. Tapestries lined the four walls of the smallish chamber, darkening its interior somewhat. A lantern flickered on the wall to his left, and someone hovered above his bedside. The bed Brice was lying on practically filled up the entire room. Focusing his eyes more, Brice spied Grizbane looking down fondly at him.
“You took quite a tumble off your horse there, Brice. I am sorry that you had to see that, but we must make examples of these traitors. They are no better, if not worse, than the rebels we will be engaging in battle tomorrow. Well, enough about that whole incident, the Battle eve banquet is about to begin. Put on your tunic, and meet me at our table.”
Seating himself on his bed, Brice watched as the door closed after Grizbane. Staring at the feudal patterns on its woodwork, he cupped his troubled head in his hands. All his life, he had lived and abided by the code of King Niamack and his father, Dreyakon. He had never once questioned these laws. It was how it was in Trevorder, up until now; Brice had believed that this is the way it had always been. Come to think of it, however, Brice had always felt the presence of emptiness and constraint inside of him. Deep down, he had always known that the way Trevorder was being run was wrong and corrupt. Until now, he could not think of why or how it could be better, but he had heard the maiden’s words: there was such a thing as a chivalrous and honorable code. He had to find; perhaps it would give some hope to this broken land.
Gazing at the tunic, which lay beside him, he sighed. A golden hare was stitched in an eternally unfinished jump over a blue background on the tunic. The hare, the animal of Brice’s house, had been in use by his family, the Hares, for the last one thousand generations, since the Magikan Wars that had supposedly driven out all the Magik in Trevorder. Pulling the tunic over his dark head, Brice slipped into the tunic of Hare.
Sliding a short sword into the sheath on the side of his belt, the future young noble opened the archaic door and stepped out into the hall. Striding rapidly with metallic boots, he entered the cavernous banqueting hall.
Lit by huge, burning lanterns, the hall was almost as bright as a summers’ day. Wooden rafters and beams held the ancient roof up, almost a hundred feet above the narrow wooden tables below.
Seating himself next to Grizbane, Brice chugged a whole tankard of nut-brown ale before the veteran captain had even noticed he was there. Nodding his acknowledgement to his young compatriot, Grizbane was greeted by a faint smile from him.
Soldiers crammed into seats in front of banquet tables. Roughly jostling each other for food and arm space, the Gribble guard drank and ate to their hearts content. The smell of freshly squeezed dragon milk permeated the air, as if someone had cooked bacon and cow’s milk together for too long.
A few meters away, at the head table, sat Prince Niamack himself. Seated on a throne of marble, upon his spotless blonde head rested a bejeweled crown, its emeralds and rubies twinkling in the lantern light. His clothes seemed to whisper extravagant. Expensive silks and leathers seemed to adorn his well-combed features. Next to him sat a morose, yet beautiful wench. She nervously drank from a golden wine glass, her delicate fingers shaking visibly. A manacled chain was tied around her elegant neck. The prince held a rope that was tied equally tightly to the fetters. The prince, older than Brice by only one year, gripped the rope fiercely, his ringed fingers pulling the girl towards him. Forcing the young woman to kiss him, the prince smiled maliciously. Brice looked to the wench, and like with the other girl, their eyes locked.
The faded green pupils of her eyes gazed across the well -lit room. Seemingly broken, and without hope, they seemed to scream exhaustion and death. It seemed as if the prince had ripped out all will from the girl. A sick feeling rose up in Brice, as he noticed that he had seen this girl around the city only several weeks ago.
Glancing down at the pork and peas on his silver plate below him, a great sadness and guilt overwhelmed the boy. Grizbane placed a sharp, but battered, fork in Brice’s hand, patting him on the back.
“Would you prefer some forest gnome stew?” asked the captain, his face a picture of genuine worry. Turning his tortured features towards the older man, Brice slammed his fist down on the table, causing many of the guards and nobleman to turn, startled, in their direction.
Rushing to his feet, Brice pushed his stool over. It made a hauntingly loud noise as it smashed to splinters on the tiled floor. Even the prince looked up from his half-finished steak, the sound was so great. Shocked faces followed the enraged Brice out the room. Soon only the heavy clattering of his steel-capped boots could be heard of Brice Hare.
Grizbane, slightly confused and extremely flustered, rushed out the banquet hall. Watching with a bemused eye, the prince turned to the assembled around him, and said, in a spiteful voice,
“There goes the tortoise, giving chase to the hare!” to a chorus of raucous, and highly forced laughing. The wench tied to the prince smiled faintly also, but not because of the quip. Her friend would not have died in vain today…

Brice stormed down the hallway amidst a volley of questions and confusions racing through his brain like bloodhounds on the hunt. Why had he lost his temper in the prince’s presence? What had torn his heart apart when he gazed into the dullness of the eyes of that wench? How could he find the sacred code that had driven the other wench to martyr herself for its ideals?
Just a day earlier, life had seemed so simple to Brice. Serve your king, uphold your family’s honor, kill anyone that disagreed even slightly with these two, and eventually become a revered noble in the king’s court. That was before Brice had learned about the sacred code. That was before Brice had gazed into those fathomless eyes.
A noise behind him caused the young man to turn around. Grizbane turned a corner of the hallway, his cape hanging from his broad shoulders.
“What has gotten into you? You haven’t seemed the same since that wench was executed. Do not fret over such ideologies. The only things that exist in Trevorder, which are worth fighting for, are the King and his son!!!” he decreed. His blind devotion caused the level of disgust on Brice’s face to rise.
“Who are they? All my life I have been taught that they are here, sent by the Gods to protect us! Haven’t you looked around lately, Grizbane? This place is full of tyrannies and injustices! It has even gripped you; you kill in the name of your so-called just king, so that his palace brat of a son can sleep with wenches to celebrate a victory that hasn’t even been decided yet! To celebrate a battle he won’t even be fighting in! You served under my father. It seems you have lost your honor! While we, the nobles and knights, grow fat on the food that was grown by our peasants, they starve. That is why they are fighting back! That is why I must leave. I must find what this code she spoke of is, how I can fight against this tyranny and oppression. I am sorry, Grizbane, you have treated me well, but I must go- I have a purpose- and I must fulfill it. You may accompany me if you wish!” said Brice, his voice moderated and inspired by a passion that now bubbled up within his belly.
“Brice, do not throw away your nobility like this! The house of the Hare has lasted for over millennia. Your father and mother both died defending you! You are the heir of Hare! Do not let down Lord and Lady Hare like this! You’re right, you do have a purpose- to serve the land of Trevorder and her king!” retaliated Grizbane, his mustache bristling with indignation.
“The code is not dead. The code lived on in that innocent girl you killed today, and now she has passed it on to me. When she looked into my eyes, I saw the world clearly for the first time in my life! I never want to go back to the way I was, Grizbane. I am serving my family, and Trevorder, Grizbane. I know my father and mother would be proud of me now, I finally see the truth, and will fight for it for the rest of my life. If you want to stop me from leaving this city, you will have to kill me!” said Brice, his voice marked with truth and defiance. Grizbane took several steps back, his face a mask of horror and dismay. He knew that he could not argue with the boy, he had seen that same look in Lord Hare’s eyes the last day he had seen Grizbane, the last day he had been a Lieutenant under the Lord’s command…
“I am in no position to stop you Brice. I hope to see you again someday, lad. You may take my stallion; he is quicker and stronger than your horse. Be careful, especially these next few days, you know how the prince deals with defectors. I will try to hold him off at least until after tomorrow’s battle. It is too late for me to change my ways, lad, but it may not be for you.” said the captain, putting his arms around the boy. The boy smiled, but soon the smile faded as he glimpsed dried blood on Grizbane’s boots. Bowing, the boy ran off to the stables.
As he galloped down the streets of Drulge, Brice felt free and truly alive. Smiling, he realized that he had no idea where he was headed. It did not matter, however, he soon formulated a plan. He would go to the nearest city tavern and make inquiries on how that girl knew about the old code and the Echo. He could feel a new chance of hope and honor dawning in the land of Trevorder. Too long had her peoples suffered from the unrighteous tyranny of the King and his son. Brice had to find a way to help liberate them, and to bring them out of this dark age that had reigned in Trevorder for the last fifty years.
Suddenly realizing that the fork from the banquet hall was still firmly gripped in his sweaty palm, the heir of Hare let it fall to the ground. The sharp instrument fell and pierced a crevice in the road. The fork quivered for a few seconds. Above Brice and a muscular warhorse galloped towards the bright and promising dawn. Surely, Brice would never forget those amber eyes…

The Bare Necessities

2005-07-01T15:11:00.000-04:00

Dear Peeps,

I apologize for the dark content of the previous poem I wrote. However, I felt it was neccessary to write and post. I need prayer for that particular problem..anyway, moving on.....Yes, I suggest that people under the age of 17 should not read that poem....o wait, im sixteen and I wrote that, nvm then.....:) So, the Lord spoke to me through another song the other day. I bought the rock version of the bare necessities from the Jungle Book....but there is an excerpt in this song that is really significant in my life at this particular point in time. Its when the bear..forgot his name.says:
"And don't spend your time lookin' around
For something you want that can't be found
When you find out you can live without it
And go along not thinkin' about it
I'll tell you something true
The bare necessities of life will come to you"
Yes..this does have to do with me looking for a....woman....why do I always seem to be talking about this? Anyway....Jesus is my bare neseccity, and I don't have to worry about other things...trying to find things...and people, cuz if he wants he'll provide for her for me. Maybe I'm supposed to be a celebat monk in the tibetian mountains or something, i dunno...I just have to trust in the Lord.....anyway, tata for now........

God Bless
leskald/elscribe which is cooler? :)