Saturday, September 24, 2016

Poem of the Day: Pretend

I wrote this for a school assignment so it was before 1994 because that's when I graduated.  But I can't remember exactly when.  This is one of my favorites.

PRETEND

Digging, searching, frantically.
Sneezing at the dust that
flies, swirls around my head
then.  Success.
Pulling, wiggling, squirming
into the dress.
Tripping over the long
flowing material.
The long blond wig.
Placing it crookedly over
my short brown hair.
Running, jumping, shouting
as I put the cowboy hat on
the wig.
Laughing, giggling, grinning
as I force my little feet
into the brown cowboy boots.
Grabbing, tugging, fighting
over the yarn for a lasso.
My costume is complete.
I’m a cow girl, but wait!

Creeping, sneaking, whispering
grabbing my moms make-up
Lipstick.  Done!
Eyeshadow, perfect.
I rush out side to be greeted by
my friends
and I am greeted with laughter,
but I don’t care.
“Let’s play cowboys and Indians,”
I say.
Then they’re running, leaving.
They come back dressed up like me.
Cowboys, Indians, Horses.
We chase each other
and become
Cowboys and Indians.
My mother watches, smiling.
I love to see her happy,
so I grab the bow and arrow
from my brother
and shout.  She laughs.
My mom calls us into
eat lunch.
We’re no longer cowboys
we’re kids.
Our tummies grumble.
we’re hungry.
Tearing, wiggling, squirming,
tear off the dress,
the hat,
the wig,
the boots.
Washing, scrubbing, rubbing
my hands and face are
clean.
I’m ready to eat.

* * * * *

Thinking, remembering, smiling,
I look back upon those
days.
Fond memories I’ll tell my
children.
I’ll play and teach them
how to
pretend.
So that they can have the
same happy
memories
I had of friends,
of life,
of childhood.
Some of the most important
things,

“Let’s Pretend!”

Immortal Part 22

            “Sure. Let’s look at that arm too. Quintas especially won’t be able to resist for too long if you keep bleeding all over the place.”
            “What’s a glog?” I asked. Tavian had swept me into his arms and was carrying me towards a soft patch of grass by the side of the road. Away from Zhivvah, and especially Quintas.  “And why can you resist when neither of them can?”
            “I told you,” Tavian said easily and he placed me gently in the grass and then plopped down next to me. He was sitting very, very close to me and he lifted the sleeve of my shirt so that he could get a real look at the damage Quintas had caused to my skin.
            “He snagged you pretty good, didn’t he?” Tavian whispered.
            I too examined my wound and more than just a mere scratch, there were five, pretty deep gashes. Enough time had passed that none of the lacerations was actually gushing blood anymore, but they were still seeping a bit and now that I saw them, I was a little bit frightened. I could tell by sight I needed stitches and antibiotics. None of these would just heal on their own.
            “Mom,” Tavian shouted, “she’s going to need stitches. They’re pretty deep. And antibiotics or something… and bandages. I’ll work on her foot if you could go get some stuff so I can take care of her.”
            Zhivvah didn’t answer but we both saw her gesture that she understood and then suddenly she disappeared. Tavian tore off his belt and put it around my arm, just above where the scratches were and tightened it.
            “It’s still bleeding a bit and we best stop the blood flow if we can,” he explained. I really didn’t see the point but I didn’t argue with him. He scooted down a little bit and picked up my right ankle and placed it in his lap. Slowly he untied my shoe and then with me grunting and crying he removed my white tennis shoe altogether. Already I could see how swollen and discolored my foot was.
            “I hope you didn’t break it,” Tavian snarled glaring dejectedly at my ankle.
            “I hope not either.” Did they just tend to remove injured body parts in 1408? I wasn’t sure.
            He was very gentle and nice about it and I could tell he was trying very hard not to hurt me, but he tested the mobility of my ankle by moving it slightly in several different directions. It hurt and I cussed at him every few minutes.
            “Well the good news is, I don’t think it’s broken. Bad news… its sprained pretty bad.”
            “What will we do?”
            “Wrap it up real good and then you’re going to have to just toughen up and bare it. We can’t just sit around here forever waiting for you to heal. I’ll carry you when I can.”
            “You’ve been doing that anyhow,” I pointed out.
            “Yeah so… it won’t be that much of a problem, right?”
            I sighed heavily and nodded, “you were telling me about glogs.”
            “Oh yeah,” Tavian said and he surprised me again my taking off his shirt. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised though because we didn’t bring any ace bandages and as Tavian tore his shirt into long, black strips that he could use to wrap my ankle, I understood what he was doing. “Glogs, like I said before, are vampire hunters.
            There are legends and lore surrounding vampire hunters just like there are concerning vampires. Some say they’re mere humans that know a bunch about vampires and so they just know how to take them out. Sometimes they’re believed to be Dhampirs… like me… but… true Dhampirs are pretty rare. Usually it’s a vampire father and a human mother to make Dhampirs but the mothers usually get killed by the baby before its born and then it can’t take care of itself and it is buried with the mother. Since the baby is weak, just like human babies, it can’t dig itself out, it can’t take care of itself…
            “So it dies?” I asked sadly.
            “No. It lives forever in the belly of its mother starving and weak. It’s a miserable, wretched thing.  The thing that saved me is that my father changed my mother and then Septimus helped us. Anyhow… just a lot of the legends claim that vampire hunters are half vampires…
            A vampire hunter like you, is almost as rare as half vampires. The hunters that have super natural abilities. Who are transformed when they come to their calling. It doesn’t happen a lot.”
            “Super natural abilities?” I asked curiously, but I couldn’t help but feeling slightly pleased.
            “You kicked Quintas’s ass,” Tavian said and his mouth twitched as he struggled to keep himself from smiling. “You kicked my ass,” he said a little bit more painfully.
            “I don’t know how or… or why I did that.”
            Tavian snorted, “I don’t think Quintas would have hurt you… but you took him by surprise when you threw him. And then when he grabbed your arm… you felt threatened by a vampire and you came into who you are,” Tavian said simply. “We’ll just have to make sure you never feel threatened by us. Or you might just kill us all.”
            “I couldn’t do that!” I cried.
            “You almost DID do that,” Tavian reminded me.
            I wanted to protest, proclaim his words lies but I couldn’t. I looked away in shame, “And all you’re trying to do is help me.”
            “I understand,” Tavian assured me. “Really, I do.”
            “And Quintas?”
            Tavian seemed to be through talking after that. He finished wrapping my ankle tightly and then ordered me to sit still while he went to go see what was keeping his mother.
            He returned shortly carrying a box.
            “Crude supplies,” Tavian told me with a grimace, “but its okay.”
            I watched in fascination as Tavian opened the box. I peered over the lid to examine the contents. It contained a needle, but not a sharp pristine needle like I was accustomed to or that I would want piercing my skin. There was also a couple of leather bags which Tavian told me contained water. There was also some kind of paste that smelled really bad but that Tavian assured me would help. There were no real bandages but as Tavian had done with his shirt there were long strips of cloth that would be used to dress the gashes.
            To say I was nervous as Tavian began would be an understatement. I was petrified. He started by ripping the sleeve from my shirt. I gave him a dirty look and asked if that was necessary.

            “Well, yeah. It’s covered with blood. Quintas and my mom would go nuts. It’s bad enough for me.”

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Poem of the Day: IF

If

If everybody’s different aren’t we all the same?
My name is Tiff and yours is John but isn’t it just a name?
My eyes are green with a yellow tint and your eyes are bright blue,
But aren’t eyes for seeing? No matter what the hue.
Some people’s ears are kind of big and other’s seem quite small,
But aren’t ears for hearing and size doesn’t matter at all.
My skin is pale and his is dark and hers is in between

But is it skin that matters or the things that can’t be seen?


Immortal Part 21

Between Quintas and Tavian, I didn’t know what to think. If it was just Tavian I would have grown even angrier because I would have been sure that it was just a joke. But Quintas didn’t seem the joking type and he had been thrown with such force that I knew he couldn’t fake that. It was at that point that I freaked out and tossed the poker away from me, like it was hot or something unpleasant.
            I dropped to my knees next to Tavian and apologized profusely for whatever I had done to him. Although, even as the words came out of my mind, I was fully aware that I still didn’t quite know what that was.
            Quintas was limping as he approached us and for the first time since meeting him I think anybody would be aware that he was something other than human. His eyes glistened with anger. His face was dark and intense and he grabbed me roughly by the arm. I let out a small squeak as the pressure of his cold fingers squeezed my arm and I found myself being lifted off the ground with such speed and force that it took my breath away.
            “You’re hurting me!” I cried desperately. I screeched and instinctively I lifted my legs and kicked him squarely in the chest. His fingernails scratched me as he once again went flying through the air. I dropped to the ground. I wish I could say that I somehow landed gracefully on my feet, was able to sweep down and grab my poker, and be positioned ready for Quintas again, should he attack. I wish I could say that. But I crumbled into a heap of uselessness. I landed on my ankle wrong, I knew it and I let out another cry of pain. That wasn’t going to be good.
            By this time, Tavian had recovered and by the time Quintas had reached me again, was standing over me protectively. “She couldn’t have known, Quintas,” Tavian shouted hotly, showing his teeth and hovering over me like a tiger ready to strike.
            There was an unnatural frenzied fury in Quintas’ eyes like a rabid animal that has lost all control of its senses. For the first time since I had met him, I didn’t think Quintas was beautiful at all. He was a savage, ferocious beast and the terrifying noise, somewhere between a growl and an agonizing scream, that was coming from him, far from scaring me, incited within me a strange excitement.
            I glanced, satisfied at the gash in my arm that Quintas had given me with his icy cold grip and long, carefully sharpened fingernails that were like claws. It was the smell of fresh blood that was causing the transformation in Quintas. He was thirsty and the very thing I had been dreading all of the day was happening. The gushing wound in my arm was too much of a temptation.
            I should have been mortified. The thought of being attacked by a vicious, hungry vampire should have made me want to crawl into a hole and hide my head. But far from being frightened, I was invigorated. I jumped to my feet totally oblivious to the throbbing in my ankle. It didn’t matter.  I reached out my arm and beckoned Quintas forward with a taunting laugh, “Come get it, fiend!”
            The guttural threatening sound that Quintas directed at me would have, just a couple of days ago, sent me into a fit of horrified tears. What had changed I couldn’t quite say. I didn’t understand it at all but I laughed. A great mocking laugh. I didn’t wait for him to come at me. I lunged forward. But something hard knocked me to the ground and off my feet.
            “Syd!” a voice yelled.
            I was fighting something within me that I didn’t understand. All I wanted to do at the moment was rip Quintas’s head from his body and set his decrepit corpse into flames which I would finally quench with spit to show how disgusting and vile I felt he was.
            I wailed obscenities towards Quintas threatening to kill him and send him to the depths of hell where he belonged. I could feel the simmering rage searing through me and while Tavian had achieved preventing me from getting at Quintas originally, my anger switched to Tavian and somehow I managed to throw him off of me.
            “Syd!” he cried again, “Listen to me.”
            “Shut up you evil monster!”
            “You’re a glog, Syd!” Tavian cried out desperately as I had once again jumped to my feet and was aggressively seeking out Quintas, “A glog!” Tavian repeated, “A vampire hunter!”
            I stopped in my tracks then and spun, glaring at Tavian with confusion. “Like Buffy?”
            “More to it than that,” Tavian said backing away from my approaching figure. I really didn’t know what had come over me, or why it had come over me now, but I couldn’t control myself. I grabbed Tavian by a handful of his thick, dark hair and pulled him to his feet. I raised my poker again and with narrowed eyes I spat, “Explain now, Dhampir, why I shouldn’t just remove your head from your body and end your miserable existence now.”
            “Well that wouldn’t be very nice, considering we’re just trying to help you, dear.”
            I spun and saw Zhivvah approaching us. Her arms were full of supplies and a surge of guilt did pierce my heart. I let go of Tavian’s hair and a little bit of the real me came back to me. I was horrified by what I had just done. I gaped open mouthed at Tavian, who was now clumped on the ground in a heap and at Quintas who still had his teeth bared to me and who looked like he would like nothing more than to attack me, drink all of my blood, and then tear my head off, just for good measure.
            “Oh my gosh!” I cried in disbelief. “What just happened?”
            “Quintas, dear, dear friend,” Zhivvah said kindly. “There is a farm house just a few hundred yards away. Before you can’t control yourself, you should go feed. Remember… on this little excursion there is no killing. Just… a little bit. Tavian and I will feed after you’re through.
            “I don’t understand,” I muttered and I let myself collapse on to the ground next to Tavian.
            “Tavian, child,” Zhivvah said softly approaching her son, “I won’t have the ability to help her. Only you can do that. Mend her wound so that we can get on with things. She couldn’t help herself, you know that, right?”
            The hatred illuminating from Tavian’s eyes as he glared at me shocked me, almost as much as everything that had just happened, “I know it,” he grunted. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
            “It will help us in our quest,” Zhivvah pointed out. “And she probably doesn’t like it either.  Hurry.”
            “Are you in control?” Tavian asked me as he picked himself up off the ground and came over to me. When tears came to my eyes and I nodded his face softened somewhat. He reached out a hand and jerked me easily to my feat. I let out a soft cry when I put weight on my ankle. Now that I wasn’t psycho, angry, Syd, I realized that it really did hurt. Tavian glanced at my foot and grunted with disapproval, “Don’t be such a wimp.”

            “It hurts,” I whined.

Monday, September 12, 2016

Poem of the Day: Missing Mom

Missing Mom

I’m missing my mom monumentally
Remembering relished moments that we share
I reflect upon the special things between us,
And all the sacrifices that she made.

Especially today when she was born,
I feel the cool breeze upon my face
And look around the world that’s filled with life
And good smells are wafting through the air.

I remember there are times I felt some shame
And embarrassment would just encompass me
Yellow and green curlers in her hair
Head bobbing up and down while we’re at church.

A loud and penetrating singing voice
Made me want to bury my head and hide,
But heaven knows how much those things are missed
And what I would do now just for a kiss.

And those trifle things are overcast by far
By the greatness and the sweetness – who you are
Your selfless, thoughtful attributes that shine
And thinking of it makes my heart just ache.

How many times we stayed up really late
Doing projects cause I tend to procrastinate.
But there she was standing by my side
Creative, brilliant, supporter – never failed.

I cannot say how many times she cooked
And supplied my friends and co-workers with treats,
Or me with lunch and dinner so I’d eat
Something with semblance of nutrition.

And oh how loyal and faithful to my dad
And they never could be seen
One without the other
How precious and beautiful and I miss the sight.

Today we celebrate her birth
But now that she is gone ‘tis bitter sweet
Because her life was nothing short of being great

But today I’m really missing mom.

Immortal Part 20

“They’re harmless really. We disturbed their rest and they merely want to go back to sleep.”
            “Zombies?” I asked curiously. I watched as Quintas lifted the skeleton and tenderly placed it back into the coffin. He walked across the crypt and retrieved its head and also rested the skull back onto the pillow of the coffin. He nodded curtly, a sort of thank you, I guess, and then closed the lid.
            “No. Merely a skeleton. They are not cursed, like we are, or zombies. They merely want to sleep. When a body has found its resting place and they are content they’ll stay where they are. They are at peace. But if by chance, their rest is disturbed, they will seek to return to where they were.”
            “They’re creepy,” I disagreed. “So how are zombies different?”
            “Skeletons,” Quintas said walking over to the next coffin. He tapped loudly on the lid and without preamble lifted the lid. Zhivvah sat bolt upright and looked wildly around, baring her teeth and hissing, “calm yourself,” Quintas said unconcernedly. “They aren’t out to harm anybody. They just want to sleep,” he repeated. “Zombies are reanimated corpses that are bewitched by somebody with the express purpose of destroying their enemies. Zombies can be strong, they can be fast, they can even be created from living creatures if the will and the mind are weak enough. The thing with zombies is they are brainless, and thoughtless. They seek only to fulfill its master’s wishes. That’s why they’re so dangerous. They have no regard for their own safety, they don’t think about what dangers might lie in their way. If you are their target… they will walk through lava to reach you. That is their strength and their weakness. They will stop at nothing… but that nothing might just easily kill them.”
            Once Zhivvah and Tavian were both awake and they had each returned their own skeletons back into their coffins, we gathered all of our supplies.
            “What now?” I asked.
            “We must feed,” Zhivvah answered. “Have you eaten?” she asked me.
            “I found water but,” I shrugged embarrassedly, “I’m not really an outdoorsperson. I didn’t even know where to begin looking for food.”
            “Well that should be our first priority,” Quintas said with a decisive jerk of his head, “be ready for anything.” He shouldered his crossbow and then stepped into the night.
            Tavian had no problem at all re-sealing the heavy door of the tomb and I wrinkled my nose unappreciatively.
            “Show off,” I mumbled under my breath.
            “Human,” Tavian grumbled as he walked pass me.
            “So you have super human smell, super human hearing, your fast, your strong… why exactly is it bad to be a vampire?”
            “You mean aside from drinking blood to survive?” Tavian scowled
            “Being hopelessly cursed,” Zhivvah chimed in
            “No sunlight,” Quintas said sadly.
            “Oh… all that,” I said weakly.
            “Yeah,” Tavian said bitterly, “All that.”
            “But if your good vampires… maybe you won’t be cursed,” I offered hopefully.
            “We are unnatural creatures derived from demons. There’s little hope that we WON’T be cursed,” Quintas replied.
            “What does it mean to be cursed anyhow?” I asked naively.
            “Let’s not talk,” Quintas told me. “We need to feed and then we need to find your friends and get back home. That’s what this is about. Right?”
            I felt sufficiently rebuked, even though he had been fairly nice about the whole thing. So I clamped my mouth shut and holding my little poker out in front of me I struggled to keep up with my thinner, and much faster group of vampires.
            Eventually I ended up being thrown over Tavian’s shoulder again. I just didn’t move fast enough for their liking and we were several miles outside of town.
            “Tavian,” I asked tentivily.
            “Don’t worry about it, Syd. No human could keep up with us. It’s nothing personal. But I can’t let you walk.”
            “No,” I said dismissively, “I… I’m not going to have to watch you eat… am I?”
            “I thought it was perfectly clear that we only brought you along so we didn’t have to search for our food.”
            My body must have stiffened or something. Part of me knew he was joking. I wasn’t really afraid of Tavian. But I didn’t really know him all that well either. He must have sensed my terror. Or maybe the fact that Zhivvah stopped running and was standing before the two of us growling, “You’re scaring the poor girl to death,” she scolded angrily.  “It’s not funny, Tavian. You need to behave.”
            “Well,” Tavian mused, “My mother always did tell me I shouldn’t play with my food.”
            “Tavian!” Zhivvah cried.
            “Maybe I should provide transportation for Miss Gerken,” Quintas said and I felt myself being lifted and transferred to Quintas’s shoulders. Maybe because I was accustomed to Tavian by now, or maybe because Quintas was so beautiful and I felt very intimidated by him I wasn’t sure, but I actually preferred Tavian. Quintas moved like a cat. Tavian was very careful to make sure I was comfortable and he seemed very concerned about not making me too dizzy or moving too fast. But Quintas didn’t care at all. He had a purpose and I was of little consequence for him.
            When we finally stopped and he placed me on my feet, I staggered for a couple of seconds before deciding that the churning in my stomach wasn’t just because I was really hungry. I was… in a way… car sick… vampire sick? I wasn’t sure what to call it but I ran to a tree and dry heaved for a couple of minutes. Now I really wanted some food and water, just to get the sick taste out of my mouth.
            “Are you okay?”
            This was Tavian and I was grateful for his concern. “Yeah. Thanks.”
            “You know I was just joking around with you… right?”
            “I just met you yesterday,” I said a little coldly, “And until yesterday… I thought vampires and zombies and all that crap was just… make believe. Now I’m half starved and in 1408 in the company of vampires.  Maybe… at least until we know each other better… don’t joke.”
            He sighed heavily and nodded, “that’s what my mom said. I’ll try and I’m sorry.”
            “It’s okay, you big lug,” I said offering a small smile.
            “Mom went to find you some more food. Then you should hunker down while we go feed.”
                        That didn’t sound appealing to me. I hoped, that more like the Cullins than Count Dracula, they had in mind a big fat juicy cow rather than a human feast but I didn’t dare to ask them. I didn’t want to know about that part.
            For a few minutes while we waited for Zhivvah to show back up, both Tavian and Quintas showed me how to more effectively use my weapon. Surprisingly, especially to me, I picked up on some of the things pretty fast. I felt like I was getting a pretty good handle on it. Tavian picked up his own poker and we spent some time sparring. At first, I could tell that he was taking it easy on me. He danced and spun and bantered quite a bit. I knew that he was putting forth a great effort to keep things light and easy. No jokes about vampires or sucking my blood or anything. Mostly about me being a slow and clumsy human.
            But after a few minutes he wasn’t talking as much. He was still a lot better than me, but he had been doing stuff like this his entire life. The closest I got to anything even remotely like this was when I was a play. Two years ago I had the chance to play Dulcinea in Man of La Mancha. There’s a scene in the play where a bunch of ruffian muleteers threaten the honor of Dulcinea. Don Quixote, Sancho, and Dulcinea all fight them off. But it’s more a comedy of errors, not actual sword fight and in the play, the whole thing is carefully choreographed and executed. Other than beating the heck out of my little brother with a stick when I was nine years old, I didn’t do stuff like this.
            After about ten minutes even Quintas was watching us with interest. Tavian’s face had gone from playful and joyful to almost dark and intense. He started making mistakes, I could tell, and I thought he was joking around again, to make me feel better, but I was irritated. I let the poker fall to my side and I glared icily at him, “Real vampires aren’t going to go easy on me, you know. I need your help, Tavian!”
            “I’m not going easy on you, Syd,” he said with annoyance. He glowered at me in shock, surveying me up and down. “I’m really not. You’ve been keeping up with me stroke for stroke.”
            “Whatever,” I scowled and I picked up my poker and went after him with everything I had. I wished he wouldn’t be so patronizing and that he would treat this situation seriously. Emryl’s life was on the line after all and I was annoyed that he continually was playing around with me. Fine, in many ways vampires are superior, as he kept pointing out.
            All of my frustration and anger I focused on to Tavian. I hardly was aware of what I was doing. I just kept up my assault with the poker, fully aware that Tavian was faster, stronger and immortal and that of course he would have to go easy on me, but I hated that thought and I kept swinging.
            “Enough!” Quintas cried suddenly and he was before me and had grabbed the end of my poker. I narrowed my eyes and jabbed meanly at him, surprised that he went flying and landed with a thud against a tree across the way.
            Tavian was on the ground panting, staring at me with wide, fearful eyes. His poker was on the ground and he was cowering in a fetal position, whimpering slightly, begging me to stop.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Poem of Day: Terror

All right, folks, I'm kind of skipping ahead to 2001.  I wrote this shortly after the terrible attacks on September 11, 2001.  It's hard to believe that it's been 15 years since that horrible time.

I just want to say a few words of appreciation to all of the men and women who are sacrificing their time away from family and their talents and sometimes even their lives to fight for our freedom.

There is a lot of negativity expressed towards the war we are engaged in... and to tell you all the truth, I don't know.  I hate war period.  I wish we didn't have any war.  I wish there were not evil, depraved people like the taliban and isis and dictators like Kim Jong-un... nobody wants to be engaged in war and I honestly, truly don't know all the politics and whether we're still fighting the original fight or not but we cannot forget that 15 years ago today America was attacked.  Without mercy, without provocation and thousands of innocent people died.  People in the world trade centers, in the Pentagon and on an airplane bound for an unknown destination.  It was terrible and unfair and it is the reason we are fighting over there.  We can never forget and we have to remember there are things worth fighting for.

On the 11th of September of two thousand one
As the day was just beginning to be blessed by the sun
A normal day of trading in the towers of twins
Evil men were plotting of unthinkable sins
94 people boarded an American plane
Hijacked by evil men with hearts of disdain
64 innocent men women and child
Were to also take part in America’s trial
.As most people slept on that Tuesday morn
Peace and safety from America was torn
The airplanes were driven into the towers side
In horror we watched the terrorist suicide.

Then the second crashed and the towers fell
And the devil laughed as we all glimpsed hell.
But devestation and terror were just at their start
As plane number three hit the nation’s heart.
The pentagon, a symbol of American might
Crumbled and burned far into the night
What makes a hero? One brave and bold?
Or maybe a sacrifice of worth untold.
The men on the fourth plane chose to fight back
And with the price of death, they crashed off track.
Where were the Hijackers planning to go?
Thanks to some Heroes – we may never know.
Outside of Pittsburg the journey cut short
But those brave souls will be rewarded in Heavens court
A surprise attack by cowardly hate
A nation is left in a dazed and shocked state
How many dead? Or lives destroyed?
Is peace now a concept that is null and void?
The painful cries as we witness the gore
Are overshadowed by the cries for war
Mothers, brothers, sisters, fathers and child
Trapped in a tomb under the rubbles pile
Osama Bin Laddin is the name that we hear
Osama Bin Laddin is the name of fear
He’s caused pain and havoc over quite some time
But sheltered by governments freed from his crime.
An army of soldiers that are willing to die
The price of revenge is bound to be high.
Can we fight a foe that we cannot see?
Are we fighting for hate? Or Liberty?
Is the cry for justice that is going around
A front for revenge? Can peace be found?
Will the blood of ‘Bin Laddin” or any other man
Bring comfort and safety back to our land?
How many others will be laid to rest
Will we pass this final test?
I don’t know the answers. I’m afraid of the cost
But if we continue to pray then all is not lost.
We won’t let them win in this act of fraud
We’re still the USA! One nation under God.

Immortal 19

Sorry everybody.  My post will be a little bit more sporatic for the next little while.  Financial problems and medical problems and life

at any rate... here is the next installment

            Hours seemed to go by before I finally heard the sound I had been seeking. I could hear the gentle warbling of a stream and I headed further into the woods. My mouth was so dry that I forgot to worry about whether the water was clean or safe. As I knelt by the side of the little brook I splashed the cold and refreshing liquid on my face. I couldn’t imagine any danger in it. It was the sweetest, freshest water I had ever tasted in my entire life. I savored the coolness until I had drunken more than my fill. I opened the leather bag, hoping there was something in it that I could use to carry some water in. Maybe my vampire companions didn’t need water, but I did. Unfortunately the only thing in my bag that might be used to carry water was a jar filled with dirt, an empty jar that had contained the dirt from 1408 that brought us here and that I suspected I would be required to fill before we left, and my little bottle of Tloq. None of them could be used for water.
            My belly was full and bloated with all the water I had consumed, but just for good measure and with the thought that I might not get to drink again for quite some time, I took a few more hearty gulps. I wiped the access from my chin before I got to me feet and turned to head back to the cemetery. I would have to ask Quintas and Zhivvah about water after they woke up.
            I stayed to the trees, hiding and holding my breath when a farmer, leading a drove of sheep passed down the road. I know he didn’t suspect anybody was there watching him because he passed gas twice and lifted up his shirt to scratch his big hairy belly. I turned my head as he relieved himself, trying to not laugh. But other than that brief encounter I never saw another living soul for the entire day.
            For a while more I merely sat under the tree watching the crypt. How strange life could be. Just yesterday I was concerned about my homework. Today I was sitting in a cemetery waiting for my vampire friends to wake up.
            Of course, I spent quite a bit of time thinking about Emryl and Dr. Payton’s blog and monsters. So far I was beginning to think that the world of monsters was reserved for vampires. They’re the only kind of monster I had seen so far. But none of my undead friends had reputed the claims of zombies, werewolves or witches. I tried though, not to think about monsters period because every time I did the image of that wicked, gray face and glinting, wanting eyes flashed before me. And then as if in slow motion I saw the poker in my hand penetrate his chest with such force that I could scarcely conceive of the power I had within me. And then I saw myself swing the poker and strike him in the neck. I hadn’t hit him in the head or the shoulder or the arm, with precision and skill I had hit him exactly where I needed to hit him. With a second swing I had removed his head. How had I done that? That’s when the self-loathing began. I didn’t care how I had done it. I was disgusted that I could do it at all. Why hadn’t I recoiled? Why hadn’t I tried to run?
            I was anxious and angry and upset. I found my hand grasping the poker once again and I was on my feet. For whatever reason I was filled with energy and passion. All of the frustration I was feeling was focused and I stared icily at the trunk of the tree I had been sitting under. I didn’t hesitate and before I could stop myself I was swinging the poker and beating the hell out of the tree.
            When at last my anger had diminished and I ceased my attack I was shocked to find that my blind fury was not random. I had expected to find that I had left a chaotic mess of slashes in the trunk of the tree. Instead, there were only two gashes. Both of them were very precise and very, very deep. Somehow, I had hit the same place over and over and over. If I had kept up my mini tantrum I might have even been able to fell the tree. I let my fingers slide over the damage that I had caused, amazed at the accuracy I had managed. I dropped the poker at my feet and gawked, open mouthed for a little while. What did it all mean?
            As the heat of the afternoon really hit I was grateful for the cool shade my little tree offered.  My stomach started growling though and I was getting thirsty again.
            It was with great regret I had to admit to myself I had never had to provide myself with food. I went shopping, of course, and I’d been cooking simple meals like Macaroni and Cheese and Raman noodles for myself since I was ten. But I had no idea how to forage for food or to hunt. To be honest, I wasn’t even real certain what kind of nuts or berries were edible or what would poison and kill me.
            It also occurred to me as I glanced at the crypt that I should probably catch some Z’s too. Tonight my three companions would be rejuvenated and ready to go. No doubt Quintas would have a plan. I needed to change my thinking and sleep when they slept or this whole adventure would be us waiting for each other to sleep. I could adjust. Being vampires, they could not change when they rested.
            Since I was too frightened to sample any of the vegetation, I decided I would content myself with a drink of water and then I would come back and try to get a nap in before the others woke up.
            I really hadn’t wandered for hours before. It was only a twenty minute walk to the fresh burbling stream I had found before. I drank until I had my fill, and then as I had before, I ducked in to the trees to make my way back to the graveyard. 
            I settled myself into the sweet smelling grass and closed my eyes, willing myself to go to sleep.  But the sun was so hot and I felt pretty rested. Add to that the prospect for adventure and my mind just wouldn’t allow me to go to sleep.
            The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky. The heat, though, lingered and I was beginning to get thirsty again. Ignoring the growling of my stomach was also something that was becoming increasingly difficult. This whole adventure thing was seriously overrated, I thought. Or maybe just adventures with vampires were boring. I couldn’t help but thinking about Emryl. While I had been simply sitting under a tree, he was going through some kind of horrendous, painful torture. I was starting to get very anxious and as the sky went from bright, sweltering blue to a beautiful reddish orange to a calming, cooling, purple, I kept glancing at the crypt wondering how dark it would get before my companions woke up and we would actually be able to accomplish something.
            Had they maybe expected me to do some research during the day? Maybe I should have been looking for a town and been talking to people to see if there had been unusual activity going on in the last couple of days. But then I remembered we were in Spain and I didn’t speak a syllable of Spanish. Also, people weren’t stupid, I remember getting the heebie jeebies from Zhivvah from the moment I met her. It was a group of vampires called the protectors that had kidnapped Emryl and Dr. Payton. Simple folk, especially ones that had never been desensitized by television, movies, books or video games would definitely pick up some creepy vibes from vampires. And I decided that talking to people probably wouldn’t have done me any good anyhow. Perhaps I was trying to make myself feel a little bit better about doing absolutely nothing for the entire day.
            I could still see alright, it wasn’t quite black when I finally grew restless enough that I felt I couldn’t wait for another second. I stood up and brushed grass off of my pants. Would it be dangerous, I wondered, walking in to a crypt full of sleeping vampires? I could feel my stomach churning with hunger. I hadn’t eaten much more then crusty bread and moldy cheese since this morning… would they be hungry too? And if they were hungry, I thought to myself, would they be able to resist feasting on the easiest, most convenient snack of me?
            At the heavy doorway of the crypt, I hesitated as those thoughts ran through my mind. I wasn’t quite sure how this whole thing worked yet. Maybe I should wait and let them come to me. I was just about to go back and sit under the tree and wait, when I heard muffled, scraping sounds from within the little stone house. Somebody was stirring and I figured with their sense of smell, they would already know I was there. It had taken me quite some time to shut the door. I wasn’t very strong and it was very, very heavy and it took me equally as long to get the dang thing opened again.
            “Rise and shine!” I called out, wiping my sweaty brow and grinning brightly. But what I saw, wiped the smile right off my face. Instead of being greeted by the handsome, perfect faces of my three vampire companions, what I saw was the distorted, mostly rotted, decaying and skeletal faces of the three corpses. All three of them had stood up and were slowly making their way over to their own coffins. Pieces of flesh hung from their bones. Their hair was disarrayed and clumped in the back where they had been lying in it for however many years. I knew all three of them had been dead for quite some time because while they all wore clothes, the clothes were falling apart too. Great holes in many spots where the chemical reactions from decomposing bodies had helped to expedite the breaking down of material.
            Apparently I had seen too many zombie movies. I expected them to turn towards me and with a super human speed and an unnatural hunger for human flesh, attack me. But none of the walking corpses even seemed aware that I was there.  I felt extremely foolish for not having the foresight to grab my little poker. I had left it by the tree. But none of the creatures was moving very fast at all. I grunted unhappily but turned and jogged back to the tree. In the dim light it took me a minute to find the black weapon that was buried by the long grass. They didn’t have lawn mowers in 1408. Finally I had my trusty weapon in hand and I ran back to the crypt.
            One of the things had actually made it to its coffin. For a minute I watched it, wondering what it was trying to do. It kept walking in to the side of its coffin, would stumble backwards and then walk forward again. After a little while I decided that the problem was that its brains had decomposed and that it was literally incapable of thinking. It wanted back in its resting place, but couldn’t figure out how to open the coffin lid to get back inside.
            With a loud yell I raised my poker above my head and ferociously I swung it and the things head went flying. I imagined it would collapse into a useless heap of bones but it didn’t. Without its head it continued to walk into the coffin. I raised the poker again and was just about to scatter its ribs around the room, but when I attempted to strike it again I found resistance. I figured it was another one of the walking skeletons and with gritted teeth I spun around and pushed as hard as I could against my attacker.
            “Woe!” Quintas cried as he actually stumbled backwards a few feet. “Don’t hurt them, Syd,” he said with a slight smile. He steadied himself, and approached me.

Sunday, September 4, 2016

Poem of the Day: I Could

Hee hee.  I have literally a hundred of these poems that I wrote back in 1993 for that bet from my friends that I couldn't write a hundred poems.  Admittedly I'm not going to post every single one.  Some of them are not... worthy.  This is one of my favorites.  Not because it is necessarily well written.  But it's honest and true.  I think we all have that inner voice that questions everything.  It's not a positive poem, but it makes me access where I am every time I go back and read it,  Have I improved?

I COULD


I could write a comedy.  But I’m not very good at comedies.
I could write a drama.  But I would get very depressed.
I could do a dance.  But I have no rhythm.
I could sing a song.  But I have no voice.
I could call a friend.  But I have none.
I could be happy but there is no joy in my heart.
I want to cry, but I’m afraid of what people will say to me.
I shouldn’t be afraid, but there is no security.
I could write a poem, but there is no rhyme.
I could but...
I could be but....
I could write s story but there is no plot.
I could make a friend but friends seem so far away.
I could take a trip but there is nowhere to go.
I could try but I always fail.
I could fly to the moon but I have no ship.
I could see the bright stars but my vision is bad.
I could be somebody but nobody cares
I could be beautiful but nobody sees.

I could be me but I don’t know who I am.



Am I closer to knowing who I am today then when I wrote this?  Or perhaps even just the last time I read it.  Are you?

Immortal Part 18

            I thought the fight was almost over and I only could hope that my team had won, when suddenly I was facing a horrible, distorted leering face. His face was gray and unpleasant. His eyes glimmering with an evil desire and I could only imagine what he would do to me. My hands, somehow acted before my mind had decided what to do. With strength I wasn’t even aware I had within me, I lunged the poker right at the heart of the creature that was threatening me. I think I might have taken him by surprise because I knew he was much faster and much stronger than I was, but the fact that I had attacked him seemed to shock him. He glanced down in horror at the metal pole protruding from his chest. With an angry yell I tore the thing from out of him and in one swift movement I swung it as hard as I could and hit him squarely in the neck. He went down like a rag doll and in one more strike his head was separated from his body. I held up my poker ready for another monster to come at me.
            “Come,” I heard Quintas bark with a panic tone in his voice. But when I spun to see him he was smiling at me.
            At first I tried to run behind them, but I was quite frankly, a robust human and didn’t move as quickly as any of my companions liked. Tavian finally grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. As I was hanging uselessly from his back I had a couple of seconds to think about what I had just done and I was deeply disturbed by it. Had I really just killed somebody? I had done it without hesitation. I had done it with precision and violence and suddenly I wanted to weep. What kind of monster was I?
            “It’s good,” I heard Quintas say after what seemed a very long time and Tavian practically dropped me. For the first time since I had seen him he was panting and winded.
            “We need rest,” Tavian said, “And besides… dawn is approaching.” He pointed at the sky and all of us looked. Sure enough the sky was getting a little bit lighter and on the edge of the horizon a sliver of yellow light could be seen. The sun would soon be basking us with all of its glory.
            “This way,” Quintas said decidedly. “It’s but a short way.”
            They walked a little faster than I was used to, but I had no trouble keeping up. Although, by the time we reached our destination I was the only one that was breathing hard. I was embarrassed but if the others noticed they didn’t say anything.
            As we approached I hesitated. The sun was coming up fast and the headstones of the graves were starting to cast long shadows upon the dew ridden grass.
            “A cemetery?”
            “We need coffins,” Tavian told me. “We need rest.”
            Quintas approached the first crypt and tore open the door. It was a family tomb, obviously, and there were nine coffins that I could see. Quintas opened the first one and the smell of death and decay hit me full force. It didn’t seem to bother him though, and he carefully, respectfully lifted the corpse from the casket and placed it in the corner. He pulled a jar of dirt from out of his bag and sprinkled it sparingly within the box before climbing in and shutting the lid.
            Zhivvah and Tavian were moving just as quickly. Before closing her own lid on the confiscated coffin, she glanced at me, “shut the tomb door and wait for us. You should be safe. If trouble does come, which, during the day I doubt it will, wake Tavian first. He’ll be the safest.”
            She hissed as a ray of sunlight came through the open doorway and shone upon her skin. She slammed the coffin lid shut and I was left standing alone in crypt with three decaying carcasses.
            Quintas had opened the heavy stone door without hardly a thought. For me, I struggled against the weight of it for a good long while before I made progress.  I never did get it all the way closed before I gave up, but unless you were looking for it, it would be hard to tell that this tomb had been disturbed.  I walked across the cemetery to a nice shady tree across the way and settled myself down against the trunk.
            It really had been very nice of Zhivvah to look for food for me, but my nose wrinkled as I pulled out the hard, crusty bread and green cheese. The cheese smelled almost as bad as the tomb had smelled but I was getting very, very hungry and forced myself to eat it. Especially considering I had no idea where my next meal was coming from.
            I wondered if I had enough guts to wander in the pursuit of some water or whether I should just stay put. For a long time I just nodded off and on in the shade of the tree, but as the sun grew higher and hotter I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go much  longer without water and the more I thought about it, the more parched and dry my throat seemed to become. I tried to distract myself. But just like a small sliver, the more you try to ignore it, the more the pain throbs and pesters you until you have no choice but to address it. I wanted water.
            My body was stiff as I tried to stand. The sun was high now. It was after noon and I had been sitting under that tree for a long time. Add to that the physical exertion I had exposed myself to even though I was unaccustomed to a lot of exercise didn’t make for a good combination.  I hobbled around in a circle until my legs were working normally again and then I threw my leather bag over my shoulder and headed towards the dirt road that ran alongside the cemetery.
            I used my poker, my murder weapon, as a walking stick and I hummed to myself as I walked. I wasn’t sure where I was going, really. I just kind of hoped I would run into the 1408 version of a gas station really soon. Maybe a well or a river. So far, I hadn’t met any people, not that I really minded. I just thought it was weird. But then I had to remind myself that in 1408 the population of the world wasn’t close to 7 billion.  It was maybe somewhere around 500 million. Most towns and villages would be small and sparsely populated. It would, I realized, be small and cozy. Everybody would know each other and I would be a complete stranger. I would be looked upon with suspicion. Then I realized my clothes were going to be very out of place as well. In 1408 women probably didn’t walk around wearing blue jeans, a pink T-shirt or white tennis shoes.  I found myself regretting the decision to leave the cemetery but I also knew I really need water. I told myself I would walk just a little bit more before turning back.

            I wasn’t afraid of running in a vampire or anything like that but I became more and more paranoid about chancing upon a regular inhabitant that would warn all their friends and neighbors about the odd stranger that had invaded their little town. Would they declare me a witch? Would they decide immediately that I was of the devil? Instinctively I finally veered off of the road and took to the trees which lined the road. My footsteps were still irritatingly loud, but at least I wasn’t parading down the middle of the street. I cringed each time I stepped on a leaf or stick, like an alarm alerting anybody within earshot that I was there.

Monday, August 29, 2016

Poem of the Day: History

Again this is a poem from back in 1992 or 1993.  Part of that 100 poem deal...

HISTORY


When Eve ate the Apple Adam fell,
when Cain killed Abel Cain went to hell.
When Christ on a cross hung and died,
Through Napoleon’Ss power, the children cried.
Romeo and Juliet and all of their true love,
 Noah after forty days and the snow white turtle dove.
Trough ages of dark they heard the cry,
by evil men of those who die.

A man came to power, 1933
 of a country in Europe called Germany,
of hatred and evil is all that he knew. 
Killed 6 million people most of them Jews.
A man named Sadam from a place called Iraq
of knowledge and power none did he lack,
but greed and money and the power too
 got to him and it grew and grew.

What makes a man believe he can win
a world a universe that can’t belong to him?
Vietnam and world wars one and two
 Korea and others it can’t be true!
A wall made of stone of men who have died
the tears of a widowed who died as she cried.
A little boy who goes off to play
 who leaves for war the very next day.

The hippies and wood stock and burning the flag.
  ‘Abortion Abortion!” it’s fine to brag.
it’s OK to kill if it’s justified
it isn’t a baby growing inside.
It’s all right to swear and to be a fraud,
 but the law says it’s forbidden to pray to God.
It’s all right to drink get high and fight,
 to dim the future in a child’s sight.

But being different, dreaming a dream.
 Doing some good, some joy you bring.
Another tragedy this world cant need,
if people will listen and people will heed.
If you think that this world is just and fine
 join the others and step in line.
The Romans fell and so shall we,

 another of histories Tragedies.

Immortal Part 17

Chapter Four (4)


            An unseen threat encompassed me. I ran but I couldn’t get away. It was everywhere. A thousand unsettling images assaulted me. A wide grinning mouth with no eyes, glowing red eyes with no faces, bloody body parts, heads on pikes, screaming. Somebody, somewhere was screaming a heart wrenching, piercing scream. And then I realized it was me.
            I opened my eyes to realize I was drenching with sweat. I was suffocating and I scratched wildly at the confining quarters I was trapped in. Then the lid opened and Tavian’s face was before me.
            “Chill,” Tavian said and he reached into the coffin and lifted me up and placed me gently on to my feet. He held me until he thought I was steady. “Are you okay?”
            “I don’t know,” I said honestly.
            “Well you did better than I thought you would.”
            “Thanks, I think.”
            “Yeah,” Tavian said awkwardly. “Whatever.”
            “Are your mom and Quintas still asleep?”
            “Heck no. They’ve been awake for ages. They’re getting us supplies. We’re supposed to stay here and wait.”
            “What kind of supplies?”
            “Weapons. Food for you… an idea of where to get food for us.”
            “You mean blood,” I said accusingly.
            “It wasn’t my choice,” Tavian exclaimed defensively, “I was born this way. And my mother didn’t choose it either. We can’t help what we are.”
            “So, what exactly does it mean to be half a vampire? How does that work?”
            “My mother wasn’t a vampire when I was conceived. My father… he was a vampire and he uh…” Tavian couldn’t seem to blush but he averted his eyes and he stared uncomfortably at the floor. “Forced her… you know? I wasn’t exactly wanted.”
            “Oh,” I mumbled sympathetically. “I see.”
            “Anyhow,” Tavian continued, “my mom said I was born with a full head of hair and a full set of teeth...”
            “You’re a Dhampir.” I said. “I read about them.”
            “Whatever you want to call it. At any rate… all it means is that I don’t really fit in either world. I’m about half as strong and half as fast as a normal vampire. I still have to eat a good amount of blood but I can tolerate some regular foods. Nothing with garlic or anything.”
            “So the garlic thing really works.”
            “It repels anybody with any sense of smell,” Tavian cried. “But yeah, I guess.”
            “Are you immortal?”
            “Yes.”
            “The sunlight thing?”
            “I’m okay in sunlight. Mom or Quintas wouldn’t be. It wouldn’t kill them. I mean they wouldn’t turn to dust or anything but it messes them up pretty good.”
            “So how did your mom get changed? I mean… how do you become a vampire?”
            “Like I said, my dad was a real upstanding fellow. He raped her and left her for dead. Which for most vampires is a normal deal, you know? That’s what they do. But something about my mom… I don’t know. So he changed her instead of letting her die. It’s a huge deal creating a new vampire and there’s more rules and laws about it then you might ever think. She was allowed to live… but they took care of him.”
            “Kind of like the Vultari in Twilight?”
            Tavian grunted, “Anyhow… my mom thinks they would have taken care of her too if they had known she was pregnant. I’m not allowed either. It complicates things too much. By the time they found out… Septimus and a couple of the other ancients had found out and they were intrigued and fought for us. They helped my mom have me and kind of took us under their wing, you know?”
            “So… if you’re immortal… how could you be a baby and…”
            “My mom says I’m still a growing boy. Septimus says that most of us half breeds… which there aren’t very many, grow to optimum age. About 25 or so and then we kind of level out. See, it sucks to be Septimus sometimes. He was changed when he was 17. He’s not even a legal adult… even though he’s like 4000 years old.”
            “Do you have supernatural abilities?” I asked curiously. I liked that he was answering my questions and since we were just waiting I didn’t see any harm in it.
            “You read too many stupid vampire books. I’m not Edward Cullin. I can’t read minds or tell the future or anything like that.”
            “What about your mom or Quintas? Maybe you can’t do any of that stuff because you’re a half vampire.”
            “Nope. They can’t do anything like that either. We’re fast and we’re strong but that’s about the extent of supernatural abilities. We don’t even turn in to bats or anything.”
            “Oh,” I said disappointedly.
            Tavian shrugged, “Sorry to disappoint you.”
            It wasn’t his fault really and I didn’t know why I was so bothered by the fact that he really couldn’t do anything but suck blood, but I was. I tried to dismiss it, “So what else?”
            “What do you mean what else?”
            “How old are you?”
            “I’m 18.”
            “And you’re mom?”
            “She’s technically 41. She was in college when that butt head took her. But really she’s only a couple months older than I am. For a vampire… life starts after you’re changed.”
            “Well how does that whole thing work? Not cursed one minute and then cursed and damned the next. It wasn’t even her fault! Or yours!” I cried angrily. The injustice of the whole situation was hitting me now.
            “I guess God will sort all that out.”
            “You believe in God?”
            “I try not to,” Tavian replied. “It’s kind of scary knowing that there’s no hope. It’s easier to believe that the whole idea of God and the Devil is made up by humans to help them decide right from wrong.
            But my mom believes and she’s always talking about it. She believes that if we do the best we can despite the obstacle we’ve been given that God will sort it out. She says that’s the true test. I think she kind of deludes herself.”
            It was kind of a dismal prospect and all of a sudden I was very angry. It didn’t seem right somehow. But I didn’t have much time to stew about it. Quintas and Zhivvah were suddenly back. They both looked a little rattled, which shocked me, and each of them had an armload of stuff.
            “We’ve been spotted,” Quintas said. “The protectors are always on the lookout for unusual activity. They’ll be there soon, to at least find out why we are here.” He dropped the various items he had gathered on the floor. Several leather bags, a couple of stick looking things that Tavian told me with exasperation were torches, and he reminded me that we were now in Spain in the year 1408. America hadn’t even been discovered yet. There was no electricity here. I picked up one of the torches and sighed. This whole thing was becoming very real.
            Quintas had also managed to find some weapons. He chose a cross bow with several arrows for himself, while he left a crude looking knife, a spear of sorts, and a couple of rusted poker looking things. They weren’t really swords, but when I picked one up I found it was pretty heavy and I could see that it might do some damage. Tavian picked up the knife and the spear. He tucked the knife into his pants pockets and leaned up against the spear as he examined the items that Zhivvah had gathered.
            Zhivvah really was a mother, I thought, as most of what she had retrieved were items for me. There was a crusty, somewhat moldy loaf of bread but Tavian once again reminded me that this was 1400 and that I shouldn’t expect Wonder bread quality bread. This was hand made from crude wheat and water mostly. It didn’t taste wonderful but I appreciated the thought. She also had some very moldy, green cheese. But I reminded myself that cheese was mostly mold anyhow and I could disregard the worst of the outside. I had to suppress a gag when I realized the whole thing was pretty green.
            She had also found me a blanket. It wasn’t soft like the cotton or fleece blankets I was accustomed to. It was hard and stiff and very furry. Tavian told me it was wool and that the hair was from the sheep. But again, it was very kind of Zhivvah to even think about that.
            “So what will we tell them?” Tavian asked. “Or are we just going to fight them?”
            “With her here?” Quintas scowled jutting his chin at me. “We’ll have no choice but to fight them. They’ll smell her from miles away. All we can do is hope we’re not too outnumbered and then we’ll have to move quickly.”
            “So Syd,” Tavian said turning to me now very quickly, “It’s true what they say about killing vampires. You have to strike them in the heart. Then you’ll have to decapitate them. We won’t have time to burn them… though that would be best. Go for the heart.”

            After that, everything happened so fast. I had barely the time to stash my bread and cheese in the leather bag I had thrown over my shoulder when suddenly seven strangers seemed to materialize before us. I heard them hiss something about “human” and then Tavian, Quintas and Zhivvah were attacking full force. It was a blur of activity and I couldn’t even process it all. I could hear grunting and screaming and yelling and I could hear an unpleasant squishing sound, and then cracking sounds.

Sunday, August 28, 2016

Poem of the Day: Easter

Easter
 
A child born in a manger stall,
Born to rise and then to fall.
A silent time, a starry night,
A child born to teach the right.

In Nazareth the child grew,
Raised and taught as a loving Jew,
A child with wisdom, quiet and shy,
With love in his heart and a sparkling eye.

A gentle face and a loving hand,
Humble and pure not proud and grand.
A carpenter’s son, simple and plain,
felt more love, and endured more pain.

He healed the sick and the blind man saw,
Perfect faith without a flaw.
The lame man walked, the Leprous cried,
he healed their sores so they needn’t hide.

The dead man walked next to his side,
He was humble and modest showed little pride.
He taught the poor and loved the child
He was gentle and quiet, tender and mild.

He was crucified that we might live,
Born to die his life to give.
Three days in the tomb, he lay in death,
then he awoke with life’s sweet breath.

Resurrected he taught all men,
that they would rise and live again.
He’s watching us from heaven above,
He’ll always show his perfect love.