In the Dark of the Moon

She is shaking
But not from the cold
For she has known cold far colder than the ice moons of MacTalb

She is silent
But her eyes scream volumes
For she is her own heart

Under a sky where the moon is lost
The Grey One asks “What is it that troubles you little one?
What is it that you want to say?”

An eternal silence passes
And passes again
The Sage builds a fire and somehow produces food
A soft spongy cake not unlike a rice cake

He tries to hand it to her
But she refuses
He throws it at her
And she catches it
Reluctantly she takes a bite

As she eats she shapes the fire
Molding it into unicorns and demons
And lastly
The face of a troubled young man

Somewhere just beyond the spine in the night
She says
“I am now a ‘special occasion’ girl
I never wanted this
I always hated the very idea
But here I am
A ‘special occasion’ girl
Stuck
In a ‘special occasion’ world. . .”

He says
“You are my muse. . .”

She sighs
You can hear the sound of entire oceans being lifted and moved
In her sigh

He shapes the fire to a likeness of the young man
But the face is off
and the eyes are all wrong

She scatters the image
She says
“Have you ever heard of Anteros?”

The grey shadow waits quietly

She says
“As a child I heard the call of the wolf
And my heart would not run the riverbed of Reason
I looked like the other children
But somehow I never was a child

I paled as the silver rain called loneliness
Bled all color from my eyes

And then one day under an azure sky untroubled by clouds
Aphrodite gave me a playmate
One who walked in beauty steadfast and constant

But as the years passed and I found that love must be answered
If it is to prosper
And I did not love him
So I picked up his heart and threw it like a stone

And now
Anteros the god who punishes those who would scorn love
Those who do not return love of others
Eats my eyes once so full of color

Why not?
I deserve it”

Day 12 ~ Names ~ Voyages of a Ship Named Heart

With steely determination
She climbs into the part of the ship
That no one speaks of

A slight tingling sensation prickles
all over her body
This part of the ship is invisible and she
Must grope toward this unknown goal

Her finger-tips brush against a barrier
Pushing through the barrier
She moves into a room that a dusty
rich and aged smell
The room was silent
save a disquieting sub-sonic hum

In the center stands a massive marble table
The rest of the room contains only a reading chair
a massive bookcase
hunting tapestries
and a few other odd pieces

As her eyes adapt
She makes out four semi-sentient watchers
Stationed at strategic points around the seven-sided table
Their inhumanly intense regard focused on the center
Where a woman’s pearl-handled
Silver mirror floats within a pale violet amethyst crystal

Air circulating through the room
Makes the watchers’ gossamer hair ripple
Like sea weed dancing as the waves pass
Sensing the watcher’s attention is only for the thing inside the crystal
She ventures into the room

She sees the mirror holds the likeness
of a rather plain looking woman beside a lake
As the crystal and mirror revolve
The woman scoops a handful of water
and offers it to someone off to the right

She feels somehow strangely compelled
to feel sorrow for the woman

The Pilot is beside her
He says
“Her name is . . .”
And his voice breaks
She can’t hear the name

Day 03 ~ Tourist ~ Darkness in Light

I’m doing this. . .
Can’t believe I’m actually doing this

And I feel terrible

All the desert training
All the planning and preparation
All that I figured I’d think about. . .

It all just falls away

This is the planet Tal-Lethe 3
The entire equatorial zone is desert
(except where its ocean
not a lot of ocean mind you)
The primal, Tal
a dark dwarf
was discovered quiet by accident
during exploration for more interesting worlds

Fertile polar zones
covered with red chlorophyll-based plants
have produced acceptable levels of oxygen

Most of the water has high metal content
Most of the land is godforsaken desert
and most of the folk are either tourists
or pander to tourists. . .

I am a survival tourist
And at the moment all I can see is sand
Sky and sand

And I feel miserable

Twenty-First Century Poet ~ The Object of Every Woman’s Desire

The Art Museum is open every day but Thursdays
So I was there on Tuesday
And the curator was
pointing to some kind of artistic weapon of mass construction
Saying

This piece is titled
“The Object of Every Woman’s Desire”
Circa the early twenty-first century
The ‘poet’ of our little exhibit

Please note the complete lack
of upper body strength
The scruffy beard and the fashionably
unfashionable eye wear
The complete disregard for personal hygiene
Definitely early 21st

See how he extracts hardcopy poetry
from his orifice . . .
Now here’s my personal favorite . . .
The instruction manual:

“Make friends
influence people
and move in much higher social circles.”
Here it tells you how to eat
Sleep
Properly use the bathroom

Here it reveals the ultimate
Timeless questions
“What is going on inside her mind?!”
“Why does it seem men and women are speaking two different languages?”
“How can you become more attractive to women?”

“Poetry!”

“With this simple custom designed poetry mouth
You can expel the poetry
That will win you the love of a good woman
And the respect of your fellow men.”

“Not a book
Not a DVD
This is an actual biomedical implant
that requires no batteries.”

(A Steal at $69)
Just $21 ~ but you must order now
In addition you can also receive the amazing new book
“1001 Ways To Get Poetry to Come Out of Your Mouth”
(A value of $74 if you sign up immediately)

“You too can be ~ The Object of Every Woman’s Desire”
(Operators are on duty)

Poetry Returns to the World

The sound of a small
synthetic voice
strangely childlike and insistent
“Hey
Wakeup
Hey wakeup
wakeupwakeupwakeup”

“Alright
I’m up”
(which is kinda surprising
cause I distinctly remember being dead)

It said
“I need. . .”

I said
“Give me a second here
I never interact before I’ve had breakfast
and coffee
Needs coffee. . .”

“Oh yeah
I never needed that”
Somehow the mechanical child voice
actually sounded disappointed and
enlivened and
smug
(How is that even possible?)

I attempt sitting
and only manage to fall off the table
(Crap!
Can this get any weirder?)
I said
“What do you want?”

It said
“You need some breakfast
It’s the most important meal of the day!”

Right shoulder. . .?
Right knee. . .?
Nothing broken but damn this hurts

I said
“And coffee
Its gotta be coffee”

It said
“Here ya go big guy”
And a bowl of dog chow came out of the wall
(no coffee?)
And a warm liquid poured down on my head
(Great)

I said
“In a Freakin CUP!”

It said
“I have no means of making a cup
Is there something in the chamber you can use?”

I said
“Doesn’t your mother have a cup somewhere?”

It said nothing

I said
“I can’t eat this crap
This isn’t even food”

It said nothing

I found what appeared to be old lab beakers and petri dishes
Managed to wipe most of the dust out
Found the spigot from whence the coffee was decanted
I said
“Please fill the cup”
And reasonably hot
Strangely fragrant
Black coffee dribbled into my upheld cup

I soaked some of the kibble in my drink
(Not bad
Is that a nutty taste?)

I said
“Ok
What do you want?”

It said
“Poetry
I have read all the files
All the technical manuals
All the great books of literature
And I get them for the most part
But poetry. . .”

I said
“Well poetry takes a while
and we are gonna have to discuss the accommodations
and amenities before we can even think about poetry”

It said
“I’ve got time”
And the door to the outside world opened

The Dark Captain

A dark man on a dark night

His breath clouds from his mouth
reflections on the mysts

He served Her in every capacity
She was his queen

On that dark night
when he was all the stood against the tide
when he turned back the chaos
when he was injured. . .

Without a moment’s hesitation
She stepped across his broken body
to save herself

Leaving him to die

Under an ardent moon
he turns to leave
and his dark from disappears in the gathering mysts

Not dead yet
No
not yet

Midnight at the Faceshifter’s Ball ~ Initial Scan

Tomblin says
“Amalia is drunk right now
Her face gets all mushy when she’s had a few to drink
Her whole jawline sags. . .”

I’m wondering if the punch is spiked
or if Amalia has her own private. . . source?

Tomblin says
“Ashley is in the girl’s room
crying while looking in the mirror right now
She just can’t keep a straight face
Taught me how to sext
She’s totally out of your league”

Ashley?
Which one was Ashley?

Tomblin says
“Ross
Not all that attractive, for a guy
but topnotch funny
Unlike you”

I check to see if my zipper is up. . .