Archive for March, 2010

Clockwork VS Flesh, a Battle of Golems

March 22, 2010

Cling clang crash! Whirrr tick tick tick!
Technology marches on! Science marches on!
Look how shiny! How big and loud!
Hear the engines roar!

Th-thump th-thump, THUD!
HEY,  what’s this in the way of my science?
This is not MY science! Mine is full of whirring,
stirring, swirling clouds of smoke and steam!

This fleshy thing can not be science!
It is full of non-logic! It FEELS and does not think!
Who would listen to this?
After all, clanking, swerving, clicking SCIENCE does not need hugs.

No, no hugs for me.
I will hide in the gray thing, and not heed the dull fleshy thumping.
Yes, yes, this must be wisdom.
What is that you say?
BE LOUDER, I can’t hear you over the whirring clanking science. . .

How odd, I can’t seem to hear anything, or see either.
I must have forgotten some important part. . .
Perhaps the thudding thing was needed?

But why would I need such a wishy washy
squishy squashy thing when I have Logic?
Maybe there is something useful there?


Sunlight feels nice, but not too much.
Grass under toes is soft and tender.
Whyever would anyone go inside the smoking lands?

I like the warm sun and soft breeze.
Clanking hurts my ears! Who cares if the river floods, just stop that infernal crashing chirruping whirring!

I don’t like that because I don’t!
Your logic is silly and full of holes!
I don’t need to tell you why, I just know it.
Of course I am right.

What do I care if I can’t move,
the sun feels nice.
It does.
Really.  I am not just saying it.


Silly Golems.
Don’t you know you are supposed to work together?
Hand in hand,
heart and brain,
energy and direction.

Why do people in stories always act so silly?


Out of sight, still in my mind

March 20, 2010

Spaces have a tendency to become Full;
Dirt, bugs, sorrow, all find their way in.

Places in a World;
And out of it.
Places in a Mind;
and out of it.

If you ignore a place for too long
you may find it has faded and lessened
Or worse–
You may never find it again.

Hold the bright places close in your mind, even if you cannot reach them with your hands.  Polish them gently, wipe away the fog of time and neglect.  Shoo out the spiders that nibble away at the stray threads, stealing them for other uses.
Find the unknown path to the place you began, and walk upon it as far as you may, until you know it again and for the first time.

Check the hidden places of the world, it is there your lost Treasures hide.  It is there dragons reside, and it is there.
There you will find. . .

Calligraphic Theater

March 17, 2010

Once there was a pen.  It was the best pen, the just-right pen.
This pen told stories, drew out marvelous scenes with word after word.

It seems a great pity, but this pen, this mightiest of tools, well. . .

It was lost.
Perhaps some day I or another will find it.  Perhaps not.
Until then we must simply seek out our own substitutes, poor though they may be, and pray they fulfill our dreams.