Association String #5

Fight wright wright he’s she’s the fightwright who writes up their fightwrighting fights. Wander wonder wright is right what is white. Cut, eat sip drink succour and pucker. Fuck her. You’s use white light find the right night to fight. Echt. Igh. Fuck light. Night light. Fight the right or the left if it’s the time of day. If it’s the time of day that matters then go take your showers fight the powers fight the fucking powers. Wires. Wires entering tubes bloody vicious viscous tubes connected to connected to more and more tubes. What enters what, who enters who. Penetration, the first fist through the dirt bloodstained shirt what leaves a mark and what just glimmers in the dark?

Death Voyage

As the ship’s curved prow led it forward into the darkness, its passenger silent, resting in sombre gloom; as it left the shelter of earth and glided out, burdened with riches and ancient treasures; as that ornamented vessel broke free of the earth, and sought a new territory on that boundless expanse, for a sailor laid to rest – then it began to travel into the unknown, across the heavens, until the daybreak when, resting upon a distant shore, it is discovered.

Envelope Patterns #3, #4 & #5

Envelope Pattern #3
"A white light showed Tammuz the way, guided him upward, calling the god home, bringing him to the golden sun, a radiant drop of honey, the symbol of beautiful Ashana, his sweet salvation, the brilliant daylight, whispering his name, marking his path, the way shone as Tammuz walked."

Envelope Pattern #4

"Fierce lions stalked the quivering lamb, seeking to sate their bloody hunger, sent to the disaster of Inar the shepherd by cruel An-shalad, the devious god of strife. Preying upon the weak mortal Inar, An-shalad, wishing to sate his cruelty, violent and callous, stalked the quivering shepherd."

Envelope Pattern #5

"Bravado and arrogance will only lessen my desire to aid you," scoffed the wizard.

"Very well," said the warrior, his boast complete, "then I shall demonstrate my skill and valour in martial feats,"

"You have no need, for I am certain those will not convince me either," the wizard said, "I can tell that you are accomplished in battle, the victor of brawls and the slayer of men. These things still do not encourage me to give you aid however."

"Then if neither mighty words nor mighty acts can sway you, what will win me your aid?" cried the warrior, desperate now.

The wizard smiled and gently spoke, his challenge complete, "Humility. For you have shown me that you do not know all or speak all. All people have need of allies, for none are great. I will aid you now, though I had scoffed before."

Beetleman & the Bear

Beetleman began to run his fingers through the fur carpet. He imagined himself hugging the bear, his friend and quiet companion. It would keep him warm when they went snowshoeing and stopped to eat, and listen to his stories about hiking up to the top of the hill. The bear would sit politely and sometimes give a forced nod when Beetleman needed a prompt to continue. It wasn’t a polar bear but it wouldn’t mind the snow because Beetleman fed it cherries from the grocery store that he would buy on Sundays. The cherries came from somewhere warm in big crates – Beetleman would like to tell the bear about the big cherry truck which dropped them all off on Saturdays, and then the bear would grin and spit out the cherry pits at Beetleman and they would laugh and laugh.

          He rose and stepped over to the bear’s head, sitting on the carpet staring out the screen door. It was summer and Beetleman hated summer. Summer was long. Summer was boring.

Association String #4

Black barrier-holds gates blazing with horses of yore blazing with tidings of woe blazing with tributes and slaves and gold a-plenty. Once went a boy black in sight black in skin through these gates betwixt bars of cold cold brass that sang as he did pass; and the wizard monk who counselled who counselled the consuls far, far, far and wide quite wide did naught but beckon him inside yes, you, beckon you inside, come on, yes, inside. And how they laughed and sang in that fort o’ fairies, that castle-keep that brooked no trespass that broke no stranger passing t’rough, but settled solemn settling solemn set solemn for the king, upon his gale-force horse, with the cold cold brass starting to sing.