Regel

The collabration was amazing. I was taken by the balance of the two extremes. The duality is there in all of us. Some will find the courage to seek their potential. Thank you again Peredhil and also to you Rune.

Travelling the road called life. At the beginning the journey down this road was easy. Carried along in the warmth of a loving family I had every need attended to. I was the oldest and for two wonderful years I also enjoyed being the only child. As I grew older I realized that I was lucky. I had two loving parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings and more cousins than you could shake a stick at. The road had a few bumps here and there but there was always someone around to lend a hand if I needed it. I understood that moving forward was living and that lingering in one place was not healthy. As a youth I was always racing ahead anxious to see what was waiting around the corner. So much to learn and experience I could never relate to the sadness in my parent’s eyes when they wanted to linger but had to move forward with me. “Come on!” I would say to them and reluctantly they would smile and begin to march forward again. I had so much more to see and so did they through the eyes of their child. I am a parent now and I understand the sadness in their eyes. I have experienced personal losses and broken dreams and know that they can make your feet grow heavy. Some of the people that held my hand when I was small are gone now and I often stop and look back. I want to linger, but if I do I hear a young voice calling for me. “Come on dad.” I look ahead to see my youngest son and with a smile I reluctantly move forward down that road again.

Was Sherlock Holmes a seer? No his was an extremely observant individual that could gather clues quickly and draw logical conclusions. It is an ability that can be cultivated, honed and sharpened. Yes it is. Do they fortunetellers see into the future? I doubt that the see into the future but I do believe that they can draw logical conclusions. Do I believe in psychic abilities? I believe that the human mind is vastly under developed but is that psychic abilities? Can't say. Finally if a fortuneteller told me my fortune you can be sure of one thing. I didn't pay for it.

Anarchy obviously means different things to different people. Anarchy means lawlessness to me. "I want your life as well as your wallet, your rules mean nothing to me." is the Anarchist's creedo. So if Equality is what you seek choose a better word. The poem takes on I feel a worthy topic but it loses me along the way. Social change is a worthy cause and perhaps worth fighting for but again I would choose better model. In the words of Martin Luther King, Jr, I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

Rune that showed a certain flare. The interplay between the two main characters was certainly interesting.

A very nice commentary on the human condition. We are out of step with the natural world. I especially liked the contrast. Nice piece.

Forest Bueller wouldn't hold a candle to you Wyvern. This quite likely the best example BBB I have read in some time.

I see you Arwen, and I still like you. One day maybe you'll see what I see.

I have a number of people right here in the pen that would easily make for an interesting evening. I realize that the question was posed to show or reveal a little bit about the respondant but I don't have any burning desire to meet celebrities. I find people all have stories to tell. Some people are indeed a little more pleasant to be around than others but I find two responses very interesting. Salyne's wanting to spend sometime with her husband and WrenWind's desire to spend some quality time with herself. I both cases it would seem that both would be easy enough to arrange but apparently it is not easy. I have been alone for 24 hours with my spouse and for those of you that haven't in a good long while do it. It is far cheaper than one consult with a divorce lawyer. The being alone for 24 hrs is also a good choice. As far as I'm concerned it should be mandated for everyone to spend 24 hours with their own company just to see what the rest of the world has to put up with. I recently had 24 hours in my own home alone. It was in a word strange. Sometimes I caution people to be careful about what they wish for because it just might come true. This anyone in history question is ceratinly one to ponder. It assumes that we will not have the opportunity to meet people who have died. I say "Says who?"

Safe: The feeling of security that occurs when all dangers both seen and unseen are forgotten. Alternative meaning: What an empire screams after a headlong dive beats the ball to the bag.

I was in Quebec City recently. Summer in one of North America's oldest city is something special. I walked into a shop that sold glass. Turns out that they shaped and formed all the glass in their shop. They used a hot blast oven to heat sand into a glass blob. They would shape and form this blob into whatever the artisan wanted to create. As the heat was applied the glass would slump under the force of gravity. Gently blowing into the end of a very long metal rod the glass blob would expand. As it cooled the glass would harden. In a very deliberate way the glassblower would work the piece until it took the desired shape. Gently rolling the piece back and forth tapping it here and there and occasionally reheating it so that the shaping could continue. I am that glass blob and although I can't see the hand that turns and shapes me I now acknowledge that it's there. For a good long while I thought that I was doing what I wanted to do and that my growth and development was of my own doing. I do not know the vessel that I will become but I do have the sense that I have a purpose.

Greetings and felicitations! Best wishes to you all.

Dear Arwin, First of all the poem. I felt a great deal of empathy towards you after having read it. So what to do about it? This knife that you wrote about let's give it a name. Call it "trust" for no one can hurt you unless you give them that. You stop giving this knife away and viola! You never get hurt. Problem solved right? The problem Arwin is that the solution is worse. Isolation and loneliness is the alternative. I agree with Peredhil that real friends don't backstab. However to make those kinds of friends you have to have the courage to give the knife away. SOunds like a catch 22 doesn't it? I have been lucky that god gave me either the courage or the stupidity (pick one) to keep giving that knife away. I hope that experience will give you some guidance the next time you give that "trust" to someone. Maybe that next someone will know what a gift it is that you have given them.

Young Lions Four young friends poised against a stonewall A portrait of pride in those eyes a gleam of defiance. Frozen moment in time when they were still young and tall. It remains a black and white tribute to four young lion’s alliance. Their country and families they would leave behind For remaining would leave them all poor. Such urgency that smiles on those faces were hard to find Was it their fortune they would find they weren’t sure?

Jarred loose the tiny silver droplet free falls down onto a sizzling white hot stone and vaporizes at once into the gas it once was. Warm breezes sweep it into a local bar were a patron has just ordered a long island tea. Coalescing coolly on the amber edge of the slippery glass. Warm vapours are conspiring into a single bead. The gleaming droplet is quickly forming a critical mass and once again begins its suicidal dash down the smooth surface. It ends its short-lived life on the folds of a crisp napkin while the tired patron dissolves slowly in his own thoughts.

Hi Appy, The first part : Apathy rules my body Boredom paints my eyes Reluctance tugs my sleeve Confusion tickles my spine Displeasure kisses my lips Annoyance screams in my ears Irrelevance plays with my mind Is almost too strong to comment on. I really enjoyed the word choices you made. It looked at first as though you were going for some sort of alphabetical theme here with Reluctance jumping in out of order (A,B,C,D) but the only thing I was wondering about is a small thing. After: My turn Defiance dances with my corpse Excitement radiates my cheeks Anger beats inside my blood Tension permeates my muscles Memory stings at my skin Hunger yaps at my heels Heritage beat my soul Conflict is my life Is it me or does"Heritage beat my soul" sound better as "Heritage beats my soul"? Your call. Very nice piece.

What if what you are saying is absolutely true? Then this is not defeat but rather a painful realization of the truth. A person call fall in love with entirely the wrong person, it happens all the time. When we are in love, the object of our love can do no wrong, so it must be us. It the only rational explanation to a bad situation we can up with. It is a beatifully sad poem Ayshela.

Lord of the Rings was a trilogy I read as a child. I was fasinated with the world that Tolkien created and that summer of 1968 I read three more books than I normal would. I was understand things only at face value. Simply clear messages that I could relate to like Frodo and Sam were best friends and there were good guys and bad guys in middle earth. I was never seeing christ figures just people stuck in a bad place doing what had to be done to protect their friends and family. All stuff I could easily relate to. Maybe I missed a lot or maybe Sigmund Freud had it right when he said "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

Powerful storytelling Tralla. Take what ever time you need to continue. The quality of the work has made us all impatient for more.

Regel bows to the master wordsmith. Your choice of words are like brushstrokes on a canvas Wyvern.

If I could related your poem to wine then yours would be an Australian Sharaz.

Dévotion Simple and yet complex it is a beautiful poem in any language. I read it once and related to it on a mother child level, then read it again and saw another possible relationship. It sounds like a prayer.

Peter Saniyo was a year older than me. He had been held back a year and was use to being the alpha male. Years earlier we had been friends as well as nextdoor neighbours. That was before the Apple-Peaches War. The Saniyo's had an apple tree and we grew peaches. The immature fruit of both had made appealing projectiles. Peter used green apples to knock down gray squirrels running the hydro lines. The power lines straddle our property line and one day Peter had throw a green apple at a squirrel. The wary creature was agile enough to leap out of the missile's path. The green apple sailed over the fence and struck me in the back of the head without warning. Peter was laughing, I was not amused. I picked up a windfall peach and returned the favour. What followed was known as the Apple-Peach war and it had ended our friendship. Peter was waiting for me with two new found allies. Only these other two would never have faced me alone. Peter had convinced them to stand with him and they did. Walking home through the service ally and entering my backyard had become my pattern. As I opened the gate they confronted me. Peter start shoving me in the chest while the other two smirked and laughed. "What do you guys want?" I had asked in stunned disbelief. "What we want is to kick your ass!" said Peter to peals of laughter. "Here? In my backyard?" I asked. They nodded and started to move towards me. "You want to beat me up here in my backyard!" I was screaming now. They kept nodding and grinning and moving forward. My heart had been pounding so hard I could feel the pulse in my neck and ears. The fear and the anger began to mix together and then it struck me. The anger had won out "This is my place! Get off my property!" Something in my face made them hesistate. They looked at each other and then they made their move against me. I was running on high octane. I had wrapped my legs around Peter's waist and squeezed. The other two moved in and I had them both in headlocks. I squeezed and held on to the three of them. Peter's face whitened then turned red and then it moved into a deep crimson. Peter tapped out. I released him and he ran home crying. The other two cowards had decided my armpits were unbearable and took off as well. I stood alone in my yard in a light mist. My heart was still pumping hard and sometime ago it had started to rain lightly. I hadn't noticed it or my little sister. She had missed the whole thing by only a few minutes. "What happened?" she asked. "Nothing." was my reply "let's go inside."

The Long Walk Home The week that followed this was to say the least a busy one. The husky boy had taken as much as he could. I was not a coward but if I could avoid a fight I would. The ducking out the back and out the sidedoors of my school and then walking three and sometimes four and five blocks was getting a little ridiculous. I was a dark haired Italian boy with olive skin who was just a little bigger than his peers. I was a visible minority. Along with two others a greek and North america indian we were the only visible minorities. Sounds stupid but in this neighbourhood I was rye bread in bakery full of wonder bread. The explainations for my late arrivals were landing me in trouble at home. So I made a decision to change. I wouldn't duck and run anymore. I was in a fight everyday that week and sometimes two and won all seven. I was becoming a dangerous street fighter. I would torelate the name calling but the first time they touched me I would go on the offensive. They grew fearful of me. Pretty soon the smaller jackals wisely left me alone, but no sooner than I won one battle a larger opponent would step forward. The week finally ended and I would catch a break. A rest to heal the scrapes and bruises I had accumulated. Come Monday the pace and slowed. No fight on Monday or Tuesday but Wednesday's was awful. We were equally matched in size and strength and we were eventually pulled apart without a descision. This would be revisited but where and when was going to be a shock and surprise.

The Vishnu Project One of the benefits of being a disembodied consciousness Daniel mused was not having to take a bathroom break. Back on earth his weakened bladder needed relief almost hourly. Daniel was recalling with great detail (courtesy of digitally enhanced synaptic connections). The day he was introduced to the Vishnu team as a possible candidate it was already screaming for attention. He was exactly what the group of six scientists had been looking for. Daniel was a 67-year old forced to retired for health reasons ten years earlier. The idea of having your brain hacked out of a healthy body and plugged into the circuitry of an untested space pod would not have appealed to a younger man but to 67-year old who had to excuse himself and find a bathroom it was the release that he had been seeking. They had several more meetings but they all had known this was there guy. A widower with no dependents and above average intelligence Daniel had possessed the psychological profile they had been looking for. As an avid reader with many diverse interests the Vishnu team doctors told Daniel that they had included an extensive library database that would help Daniel while away the time in deep space. Daniel would be prepped and treated for any postoperative problem many months before his expected launch date. That had been the plan and would have likely been the case until hostilities had broken out. As it was he had barely covered all of his control functions let alone fully adapted to his new metallic body. They had recorded the procedure that had separated him from his body but it would be many months later before Daniel would discover they had included it in the on board computer database. The ship had internal and external sensors that gave Daniel and entirely different perspective of the world around him. It was bizarre just how far Daniel could see. As well Daniel saw in ways humans could never have imagined. The entire light spectrum was now in his range. It had given Daniel a few surprises. At first he saw nothing but a searing white light (accompanied with wicked headache) but gradually with the scientists helped teach him how to filter out aspects of his new sight to produce images his mind could understand. It wasn’t too long before Daniel had mastered it. It is said that some people can see right through you; well this was literally the case with Daniel now. He still remembers watching Dr. Grace Rosaline flush with embarrassment after he told her what she was wearing underneath her lab coat. It had been six months already and he could still see Earth. This reminded him of an old gag about a Saskatchewan wheat farmer who watched his dog run away for three days. Daniel laughed. He had heard that 54 years ago and it still cracked him up. As Vishnu passed by Pluto in it’s own elliptical obit Daniel had an odd feeling of dread. A warning sensor yanked him back to the here and now. “Where the hell did this debris field come from?” He thought to himself “Something big must have collide with this rogue planet once upon a time, something really big.” Then it began like a gentle rain as dust particles started striking his black and blue hull. The noise increased as did the particles now the size of fine pebbles. Daniel started to get worried. The scientists had told him that Vishnu’s hull could survive a direct strike of a meteor up to about the size of a baseball. Trouble was Daniel hadn’t bothered to ask them if they had meant hardball or softball size. What he saw next was way too big. He had no choice now but to try and pilot around this meteor or die in a spectacular fireball. Daniel’s mind was very agile but his ship was a little sluggish. While he missed the largest pieces in the debris field the collective damage his vessel had taken precluded the notion that he would reach a habitable system. He had a hull breach. The disable pod had no options but to head for that frozen rock he just passed. "Ahoy Pluto! Prepare to be boarded!" This cold rock was going to be home for a very long time.