Over the sands, feral, I hear your fearful whispers on the wind. After all this time, still you shiver and rage for an obesiance denied, dominance defiled. Over ages, you have called me many names. Each of them, horrified homage that is as much supplication as stratagem. Such shakey fingers, raised in ancient motions to protect you. As if bone and flesh could ever save you from the demon you tenderly feed there, within your soul. As if ever you needed protection from me.
Of friendship and a far cry…
“It’s a far cry from where I’ve been.” These, recent words, from a friend, in relation to evening activities. It made me think. A wry grin here, as there is very little encountered that fails to have that result. A curse, most times. But sometimes, unexpectedly, a blessing.
the little shepherdess
5:38am DJ Destruction on the stream. Sweet Tempered Asonance is the song. I wake from a dream. Just now. Weeping. Finally. I understand. And more.
Lost Pages, Lament of Anesidora
do you know what it is like to give unceasingly? the sages praise it as if some lofty and sacred ideal; ignorance breathed as prayer, green incense that smokes as it rises, fouling walls and ceiling. it is a supreme humor that from my hand, such as this would spring. i, giver of all gifts, made into deliverer of all torments save one. or so the story goes. would you hear the truth? then listen and if you can bear it, carry the weight that i have these many, many moons. we all know, of course, that we, humans, are […]
yet another… =/
the song on the stream this morning is by Sounds From The Ground, and called “Planted”. someone sent me an e-card. the theme was dandelion. the first email i opened this morning was from a friend talking about (of all things) gardening. past the point of needing to explain, i just shake my head and sigh. time for work.
Carrie Arlos – Cipherpunk Journals
made an odd discovery today. i have discovered how to see the future. i was standing outside my office and looking off into the horizon, not really thinking about much of anything. had a bit of the old mahamudra going on when, suddenly, it looked like the entire world fractured. i suppose if i were standing in my own reality, i would have lost my mind. as it happened, i was standing two steps outside it. so the backlash landed on the gravel and kicked up a spray, dug a hole about oh… an inch deep, then flared out with […]
96% Gibbon
i am tired. the moon waxes as i wane and, in typical fashion, every karmic hailstone that is scheduled decides to fall in this moment. annoying, the regularity of it all.
Lost Pages, Letters of Fools – 01
this, the first in a series entitled ‘letters of fools’, in which literary and folk lore myths and legends are cast with clay feet and explored from the perspective of their unique curses or blessings. it may well be that some are identified early on while others are named only at the ending. half the enjoyment is trying to write them in such fashion as you really cannot be sure until you are sure. heh. enjoy. p.s.: some may or may not find themselves recorded, as urge, time, and technology permit.