Snow

The man said, The snow is like a woman. It is fickle, one minute blowing about, the next settling into drifts. It can never decide what it wants and the whole time it is stinging your face and chilling your feet.

The woman said, The snow is like a man. It embraces you, but it always does what it wants and never thinks of you. You may think it is solid but it will deceive you and you will fall in deep drifts.

The sage said, The snow is like death, for we are with it all our lives, and a little makes us feel more alive, but to be caught in too much is to die.

But the child said, The snow is like life, and he jumped in and enjoyed it.

Cloudy dragonfire,
Mountain wreathed in orange flame,
Alpenglow sunset.

The Chronicles of Soemthign: Frying Pan

The story so far...

The thunderous crashing of fallen minidrones. Bugs gasping, dying all around. The dim light of the warehouse masking the shieldcloaked ones until they were upon his friends.

"Well, doctor?" A voice disturbed Asrayah's thought.

The Hollow Shells

I stare at my eggs,
Drowning
In salsa, and syrup from my waffle
Like the fallen stones of a building,
The pillars of a temple,
A pantheon
From some long lost civilization
Of chickens.

We are all of us completely high—
No drug-induced stupor, this,
But high on life,
On friends,
On dreams
And heady thoughts of zygotic avian culture.

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but some poet with a fork.

Why I love Skyrim

A friend... wrote:

Perhaps someday, when you have time or inclination, you could explain why Skyrim fascinates you so? I play Minecraft on occasion and some people love to build Skyrim themed houses, all of which are beautiful. That's about the extent of my exposure.

Well, friend-o, glad you asked. Not only have you given me my evening's topic, but you've also given me an excuse to talk about why I love the things I do.

Nearing Journey's End

Just a couple miles on,
Home and hearth are close at hand,
And before the sun goes down,
I will reach it, if I can.

Troubles lurk along the way,
Yet I, eager, tread along—
Troubles have no pow'r to sway
Hope or joy of trav'lling-song.