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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Regel

Quill-Bearer
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Posts posted by Regel

  1. The topic of Wyvern hung weightless in the air. Regel's imagination began to postulate possible reasons why his friend did not answer the question of the then young Lizard. Many years had passed and lizards like people change. Years had changed me perhaps the same was true of him. Wyvern was an Elder in spite of his youth and a driving force of the pen is mightier.  "I would love to hear about him if you care to share any news."  The silence had it's own conversation.

  2. Regel smiled with the warm greeting from the pennites. Sitting with his old friend Peredhil, Regel waved to both Snypiuer and Zatar. As his eyes adjust to the light he took a closer look at his old friend's face. "Time has been kind to you old friend. You look...different. Not sure exactly what it is but you seem happier. Snypiuer was kind enough to give me a hand finding my way back here." The two old friends laughed and drank recalling old stories and catching up on recent events. " So I have to ask what ever happened to the young lizard?"  

  3. After a long absence a familiar figure stands in the doorway. The Tavern of the Quill seemed quiet and tranquil. The hooded figure saw the orderly state of the room and wondered if that crazy lizard he befriend years ago was still around. The road weariness hung on him heavily and his thoughts ran to old friends and wondered how many might still remember him. Peredhil his old friend and ally must certainly still be part of this esteemed writers guild. The Cabaret Room reminded him of another tavern the SteelDragon. He looked to a dark corner table and sat down. Facing the exits and looking for escape routes was so ingrained into his psyche he was not even really aware of his actions. He had joined the pen is mightier fifteen years ago. He was old then and much older now. Regel dropped his hood and rested his head on his forearms. It was still dark and quiet, just like he liked it. The old man quickly dosed off.

  4. There is a closeness between brothers that is quite often hard to find when things are going well. When things go bad and this was definately bad the bond between brothers lays bare and as tired and emotionally beat up as I was I had to endure my older son's confusion and anger over what had just transpired. He was convinced that his brother had taken some bad drugs and that the whole thing had some how gotten off the rails. I filled him in on the anxiety attacks and the curious behaviour I had observed, I went on to explain the circumstances that led us here, He was in shock. The cold reeality was sinking in and he had yet to accept it. By the time he went to see his brother he had already missed the wrestling match that ensued between Chris two hospital security guards and a city police officer. He found him as I had left him in a locked holding cell strapped into a hospital bed. The process had drained me, I waited as he disappeared and spoke to his brother. The story he spun for his brother was half way plausible. He had indeed taken some bad drugs and that the whole thing was a bad mistake and that both Mom and Dad were in some sort of mob that was out to get him. All he needed was to get his meds and get out of this place. "Just loosen the straps and help me get out." I had already tried to prepared him for this and explained that once admitted by a Doctor anyone trying to help him leave would be charged. My oldest son realized he was in a locked room and only security guards would open the door. The city police officer he passed easily out weighed him by one hundred pounds and six inches and so even if he was considering the possiblilty of helping his heavily sedated leave the building he must of realized we would have spent that morning in jail. My eyes were starting to fold. It was 1:45 am. He would not be admitted until the morning probably around 8:30- 9:30. That information came from an emergency nurse that felt pity on me while I sat a waited. I told my oldest son that I was heading home. He insisted on staying with Chris a little longer (he stayed until 3:30 am). I headed back to the parking lot a pattern I would repeat many times in the days to come.

  5. We settled into our room and crashed into our two singles. The room was surprisingly clean and the large windows and high ceilings made the room extremely bright. It made sleeping rather difficult inspite of the fatigue. I am not sure why but all attempts I made to sleep failed. So I decided to rattle a coat hanger I had brought from home on the night stand between the two beds. Rattle rattle rattle...an eye opened on Dominic's once sleeping face and then it quickly closed. Rattle rattle rattle...it commenced again, Domenic opened both eyes this time and giggled. The goofiness was brought on by road fatigue but the bright room was equally to blame. "Your a child." Domenic said to me matter of factly, rattle rattle rattle, I responded with the wire coat hanger. We looked at each laughed out loud at the insanity and decided to fine someplace to eat breakfast.

  6. As I recall this YMCA in the center of San Francisco was a busy place.There were four wickets where people were signing in or out settling their bill or checking in. Once again we were forced to line up and wait which I was more then pleased to do. Tired as I was I knew the wait would absolutely infuriate my cousin Don and that was a sight I never grew tired of. While we waited we people watched. Weirdness lived here. I pointed out a very tight pair of jeans standing in stiletto heels with big blonde hairdo and a pink scarf about five people up and two lines over. I nudged Domenic with an elbow and gave a head nod in the right direction. His spirits brightened and as luck would have it our line moved up faster until soon we were almost even with the tightly packaged blue jeans. About this time the object of our admiration turned to her left, looked at us and smiled. The heart shaped glasses etch hearts in the corner the frame caught my eye first, a half second later I realized we had both been staring for ten minutes at a guy's ass. We both turned away dumbfounded and shook our heads."That's fucked up." whispered my cousin. I just smiled. The YMCA had served as a cheap alternative to a camp ground and in the absence of a youth hostile it was heaven sent at ten dollars a night. We got checked in and walked over the the elevator with our bags and pressed the button. The doors opened and as we walked in I asked "What floor" Domenic answered "We are on the third floor 310." As I pressed the button for the third floor and waited for the door to close I was staring at the the sign the said "Women's floor are even numbers and Men's floor odd". They segregated men and women on different floors to prevent anything untoward. This might have made sense in the 50's but this was the 1970's baby! The satire and irony of the rule was best enjoyed later after we both got some much needed sleep.

  7. Thanks for the comments. Deserts can be desolate places but it is definately not lifeless and they can be very beautiful. It is appropriate to call it winsome in this particular case. Three hours into the visit of the Nevada State Park I looked up quietly and say out loud "... you had fun making this one didn't you?"

  8. There is a starkness to the imagery your poem created in it's rough form that I liked very much. I find constructing a poem for me works best when I have a fully form image in my mind or at the very least a fully understood emotional reaction. Your poem seems to have both. The location is vague, the colours assumed, the situation critically grave but the imagery cyrstal clear at least too me.

  9. Rust bleeding through desert sand

    Yellow sun, a stark blue sky

    Wind blown shaded grottos sigh

     

    Red rocks and yellow grey strands

    Mauve against a faded green

    Vistas like I've never seen

     

    Softly painted desert lands

    Carved into a surreal style

    Winsome like her fading smile

  10. Dear Pen Diary, I had a momentous occasion this past Father's Day. My eldest son and my daughter in law are expecting. My wife and I will soon be first time Grandparents. I am overwhelmed with happiness. Sometime after Christmas early January is the due date and trust me, there will be pictures. Sorry for my long absence. I will try and post more frequently. Good bye for now

    Regel (soon to be Grandpa Regel)

  11. They finally assessed him and admitted him later that night. As we were asked to move into the treatment area my son became increasingly aware of his restrictions. He was asked to go into a room that was a little more than a cell with a bed in it. Chris wanted no part of that room and so he asked to use the bathroom. They showed him where that was and he went in and locked the door behind him. About 5 minutes later I was knocking on the door because another patient needed to use it. Chris was frightened and I knew talking him out was going to be difficult. I also knew that the security guard would be next so I pleaded with him to come out. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to comply they used a key and opened the door by force. Chris resisted and a second security guard was radioed in. The first guard was big the second was even bigger and together they were still having a hard time controlling my son. At 5'9" and 135lbs Chris was cursing writhing around with strength brought on by fear driven adrenaline. I had had enough and moved to moderate their man handling of my son. "You don't need to hurt him just let him calm down I shouted at the first guard. A police officer had brought in what appeared to be a troubled woman and came into this scene and ask me who I was. The similarity in appearance between me and my son was obvious to anyone with two eyes. I looked at him directly in the eyes and in my calmest voice I said "I am the boy's father". They asked Chris to confirm my identity and Chris still being restrained by two guards hissed out " I don't know who that is but he is trying to hurt me. I don't want him here. Get him away from me!"

     

    I was stunned and hurt by these words and the police officer a seasoned patrolman of some years turned to me and said “I am sorry sir you will have to leave" and I was escorted to the outer waiting area. 11:45 pm and my phone rang I was unable to see who it was at first because my eyes were blurry. I answered and said "Hello." It was my oldest son "Hey dad. What's going on? What has happened to Chris? Why is he in hospital? Where are you?" and finally "I am on my way."

  12. The emergency room in my home town is not very different than most other city hospitals. No matter what time of the day or which day of the week there was always a mix of people of all ages. Infants children teenagers adults and seniors all shuffle in holding something an in need of a doctor in a bad way. My sons injuries were not visible. He wasn't cut or bleeding anywhere, he had no obvious signs of trauma, he wasn't feverish of coughing and he had no broken bones. We signed in a routine I learned from my days at Vic Hospital as a porter and sat ourselves down. I bought Chris a Gatorade and we waited for our name to be called. Scanning the room we watched as the already busy emergency department slowly went about its business. Candy stripers or volunteers helped the newcomers sign the clipboard until around 4:30pm and then left to re-join their own lives. The emergency nurse thanked the two high school students and wished them a great weekend.

     

    We had been there two hours already and with the TV set on a NFL Football game I was not terribly interested in my mind began to wander. "Why are we waiting here dad?" my son asked. The question seemed to have startled me "Why? We are here because you need help." With that he quieted down for a while but I could see him fidgeting "I am hungry" I bought him a sandwich from the vending machine. " I want to go." he said to me impatiently "why are we here dad? We could get what I need at Wal-Mart." I looked at him and thought to myself "...and what aisle would that be?" Finally the Emergency Nurse a heavy set woman in her late fifties called out my son's name. We rose and walked over the interview room. The nurse interview Chris and Chris answered. It would have been difficult to explain the feelings I was going through watch this process. Chris delusional answered many of the questions in a manner that would deny there was anything wrong with him but to the trained eye his restlessness and his increasing agitation pretty much seal the deal. The nurse asked Chris to remain seated and spoke to me. “We will need to call the crisis team in to have him accessed and he will likely be admitted under a form?" More questions from me and more explanations followed. "Your son is very ill. It is likely he will be staying here for a while." My heart sank and I knew I was getting upset. This was not going to go well, I just knew it.

  13. Two years had passed and from the initial shock and horror of it all. I recall every detail of the first few days and weeks with painful clarity. Friday was the day we walked back into our family physicians office and he recommended I take him into emerg at Grand River and have him assessed. In his state they would most certainly admit him but all he keep asking for were his meds. They consisted of across the counter cures he had bought at Wal Mart, ST John's wort and a few others that he thought helped. I had by doubts then and my doctor confirmed my concern. We were looking at a dreary November afternoon and as temperatures were dropping and snow already covered the ground I put my son and I in the direction of Grand River.His conversation with himself continued in the car but he seemed to be comfortable that I was there for him so he came along willingly.

  14. Well it has been soon long since I posted anywhere I thought I would post here. I have been peaking in here only occasionally. It has been a busy summer and my need to write has been put on hold. So much has happened and yet I have just carried these stories in my head. Some where down the line I might post regularly again. Hello to my pen friends.Posted Image

  15. I quickly dressed and put on my boots and jacket, while it was just next door, the snow was deep and the wind was blowing. Four thirty am was an obscene hour but I darted across the front yards and knocked on the door. " Come on in he sitting on the couch." "Chris grab your coat bud and put your shoes on we are leaving." Shelly looked at me and quietly said he didn't have his boots or a coat he just ran over rang the door bell, and stood there shivering. She had let him in and when she had asked him why he was here Chris had explained that people had broken into his house shot and killed his parents and his brother Joseph was hiding in the garage. He pleaded with her to phone the police and she had been very close to doing just that, especially after no one had answered her phone call initially. I thanked Shelly and told her I would call her in the morning. I gave Chris my coat and told him to jump on to my back, I said goodnight and I carried him back across the snowy front yard into our house. My wife was frantically waiting in the front hall. I got Chris upstairs to bed and then I came back down stairs. We look at each other and knew neither of us would be sleeping for the rest of the morning. I camped myself in the living room so I could seethe front door and the patio door, while my wife sat in the family room and watch the backdoor and the door to the garage. He would not be slipping out unnoticed, not now.

  16. The phone call was from my next door neighbour. I could tell from her voice and her level of excitement something was up. "Hello Joe, Is everything alright over there?" "Yes Shelly, Why do you ask?" I wasn't being truthful but my thought was why worry and involve her. "Well" she started "Chris is over here and he has been telling us some terrible stories! Are you sure everything is OK?" "Chris!" I said "I will be right over."

  17. The phone call was from my next door neighbour. I could tell from her voice and her level of excitement something was up. "Hello Joe, Is everything alright over there?" "Yes Shelly, Why do you ask?" I wasn't being truthful but my thought was why worry and involve her. "Well" she started "Chris is over here and he has been telling us some terrible stories! Are you sure everything is ok?" "Chris! I will be right over."

  18. Strangely I seem to able to relate to this piece.

    Disclosing the truth can be dangerous and yes, we all lie, if by definition you include lies of omission. The words I have chosen often carry one meaning for me and once read are interpreted in an entirely different way than it was intended. You have a few small mechanical errors in the piece Wrenwind but the feels are strong and the message for me clear.

  19. The level of agitation was rising in my son. The anti-anxiety medication would help I thought. He took it and I got him to bed. I settled in to bed myself, but it took an hour or so for my mind to allow me to sleep. I had been sleeping lightly of late often waking several times in the night. At one point my eyes popped open and I saw a light on in our en suite bathroom. My wife chided me "Why did you leave the light on in the bathroom?" "I didn't."was my response. I got up and walked into the bathroom to shut off the light and found him crouched down in a corner with a hand full of his pills and the lid in the other. "What are you doing?!" I asked him. I did a quick count and he had not taking anymore than the ones we gave him earlier. "I need them dad, I need them." I looked at him and said "You are scaring the shit out of me, please get to bed and try to sleep." I walked him to his room, shut the door and thought to myself I really will have to see the doctor in the morning this was getting worse by the minute. I went back to bed and thought could things get any worse? I tried to stay awake but around 2:00 am I fell asleep. The sound of the telephone woke me two hours later. "What now?" I rushed downstairs to answer the only functional phone, by the time I got there the phone had stopped. Chris was not in his room, the backdoor was ajar and my heart was in my throat. Panic was settling in, my son was no where to be found in the house. Just then the phone started up again, my only thought was "It's him."

  20. November 28 2008

     

    It's been almost a year since I posted regularly here in the pen and it has take me some time to sort things out and once again find my voice. We were a family in crisis this time last year as October rolled into November my twenty two year old sons behaviour started to become increasingly odd. He like the rest of us had had our sets backs but for Chris his grandmother's death coupled with several other set backs literally started to manifest itself the form of a psychosis. He become withdrawn and often spent an usual amount of time alone either in his room or the bathroom. One day while at work he called my wife at home and begged her to come and get him. He was having a severe anxiety attack and ask his mother to get him an appointment to see our Doctor. The next day the did and there the doctor percribed a very mild medication for anxiety. The prescription was filled the next day and as I passed the bathroom I over heard my son speaking and gesturing to himself in front of the bathroom mirror. The words were harsh and he was gesturing and waving his hands. I asked him if everything was alright. He told me it was. I pushed open the door and asked how was he talking to. He say no one. He had a strange look in his eyes, I recognized it. It was the look of fear.

    Things started come apart as later that night I found him again in front of the bathroom mirror this time I listen closely behind the door that was slightly open. It was a dialogue in two parts one whispered one spoken. The whisper voice swore and berated the spoken voice this went on at some length. My son was in trouble. I didn't know what to do.

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