Thursday, February 27, 2014

We're Not Hobbits

a hole in a hill,
a hill in a world,
that makes us both feel small,
a room at the top--
bedroom where it stops--
and a skylight that makes us feel tall.

wall of stone,
walls of dirt,
and floors haphazard all the same.
the sky above:
intact, pristine,
but far from being tame.

a garden beneath the bedroom,
and a stairway leading down
to more, ever deeper rooms
that we hope are never found:

a farm for trees,
a pond or fish,
food and timber in short supply;
room to grow
and more to show
without ever seeing the sky.

within the attic: hopes---
dreams of more to be built:
castles down in hell,
dungeon supplied to the hilt;

within the attic: desires---
beds laying side-by-side;
hard to know, what next will grow,
when we resume our ride.

MC: The Epic Poem, Part 1

we toiled away the daylight,
figuring out what to do,
so I dug a tiny hole
when monsters rose with the moon.

when the sun came with the dawn,
we were trucking well along:
the hole was growing wide and deep--
a place to live and a place to keep.

you found iron while I made rooms,
harvested wool, wood for looms;
laid down beds side-by-side
in the attic way up high.

sinceways we've been digging
hollowing space for farms;
first wheat, then timber,
reducing starving alarms.

next I'll do sugarcane,
make paper from the pulp;
we'll have a library in our hole,
with tables to learn and sup.

Part 2 is forthcoming.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Boots and Straps (Mature)

Mature Content

you can slide on the shirt,
and put your arms in the sleeves,
you can tighten up the collar
or leave it loose and free,

Continue reading on DreamCruder

Tuesday, February 25, 2014


there's no trust because you broke it,
more rules to burn me out;
I can't help but be honest,
but you're casting me into doubt.

there's no freedom because of your abuse,
more skepticism on my back;
I can't help but work hard,
but you're adding signals to my track.

there's no privacy because you hid things,
more eyes scrutinizing me;
I'm not guilty nor ashamed--
but they no longer believe

Friday, February 21, 2014


lately just been feeling blah
maybe I'll... eh, rather nah;
feeling tired, feeling drone,
better just leave alone...

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Interpretation: Something White, Something Blue, Part 1

The whole poem can be found here.

This poem is intended to be an ongoing history of my love-life, and as I am still living it, chapters are bound to be added or edited; when I wrote this the first time, I thought I was done, I thought I'd found someone to spend my life with... but that's more for an upcoming part. For now, I'm just going to start with the first rendition and the first two chapters.

I'd given all I had to you,

not your fault you put me through
all the pain and the war
that none of us sought before.

My first love and first girlfriend was very important to me. For the time we were together, I hoped it would never end, and we often talked about a future together. Unfortunately, things very often do not turn out the way we plan.

She passed away in the fall of 2006 from complications of diabetes. That was the pain. The war was the aftermath: blame of some of her friends laid on me for her death, and my alliance with more of her friends in an effort to defend me.

All I'd asked was you to be
serious, honest with me...
but now I've known hearts to break,
and it was my pain to take.
I did what I had to do.

She was my first love, and also my first broken heart. I'll admit to doing some things that I wasn't proud of, then or now, but I felt and still feel that they were all justified.

All pieces dedicated to her can be found here.

I'd reached out far and caught your hand,
thought I'd found a second plan,
closed my eyes and there was you,
hoped and promised and loving too.

While I was still recovering from the loss of my first, I started chatting online with someone else, someone who quickly claim to mean a lot to me. She lived on the west coast ("reached out far," "distance we could not forget"), and it was my first (and at the time of this writing, last) long distance relationship.

But our needs were far from met,
distance we could not forget,
so you slipped, so I fell,
and honestly you did tell...
For that much I meant to you.

We were implicitly honest with each other, she spoke of her dalliances, I spoke of my heartbreak, and formed a somewhat strong friendship, which was tainted when I fell for her, though it wasn't unexpected for either of us. But it wasn't meant to be.

I'd chosen you and to flirt,
give no love and get no hurt
we both made plans and both fell through
and I got back all I gave to you:
nothing broken, nothing bruised.

And thus was my first casual relationship. No heart was put into it, no love was granted. He might have been my first boyfriend, but we didn't last much longer than some brief flirting, certainly not longer enough to define our relationship.

Further interpretation of the remainder of this poem is forthcoming.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014


you think you know but you don't;
I shouldn't have shown you that page,
those lines that stole through my head,
I keep wishing you hadn't read...

you think I'm you but I'm not
I've got more wisdom that you have age;
more words keep stealing time,
keep stealing me, keep stealing mine...

you think you see but you're blind,
I should have left those ghosts greyed;
I've got my heart where you'll never find,
behind rock that can't be mined...

you think you think but you don't,
you think my heart's stuck, but it won't,
you think I want to hold onto you,
I think you want that to come true...

I know better than to let that show
if you thinking I'm flirting you don't know;
you think my eyes are always on you,
but I'm more attracted to my shoes.

Monday, February 3, 2014

Fortress Race: Part 6 (Sakura POV)

Zeke woke to thunder. "Yin?"

"I'm awake."

"Do you want me to take the watch?"

"If you want, but I don't think I'll be getting much sleep."

"Why not?"

"It's been raining all night."


"Yeah. I'm sure he's got a plan. I hope."

"If he doesn't—"

"Don't say that."


"I know. If he doesn't, we have to fight STOMP."

"Can we? Can we really fight them?"

Yin sighed. "I don't know. I just don't know."


"Our caches are going to be soaking wet."

"And moldy, don't forget moldy."

"I was trying to."

They had wrapped every stockpile in as much plastic and as many traps as they could afford, but with this much rain, there'd be flooding, and some water was always bound to seep in and make a mess.

"Is there another option?"

"We could try the fallen fortresses."

"You mean BLUE's or EAGLE's treehouse?"


"That smoked out mess?"

"I know Ace really did a number on it, but it's probably a good place to start."


When they arrived, it was late afternoon. They had meticulously cleaned up their previous campsite, despite getting soaked in the process, and carried several days worth of stock with them. The doorway was wide open, the door itself lying on the floor a few feet inside. They traded looks and slunk carefully inside. The tree was empty but the ladders were missing.

Zeke tilted his head back and gazed up through the hole leading to the next floor. "What do you think?"


"What if we're not the first ones here?"

"I think we'll hear them coming down."

Zeke nodded and helped Yin set up their camp.


It was his turn to "hmm?"

"To door or not to door?"


"Door, we're protected from someone peeking in. No door, someone's less likely to suspect someone's here and have a reason to peek in."


"What do you think?"

Zeke shook his head. "I could go either way. You?"

"The same."

"Sleep on it?"

"On which?"

"Either. Both. But the rain's not coming in, so let's leave it like this. I don't think anybody is bound to be up and about in this weather."

"Unless they're looking for shelter from the rain." The voice echoed down from above them, and they both cautiously approached the hole leading to the next floor.

Zeke and Yin glanced at each other, and then scrambled backwards out of sight.

Clunk. "Hey, where'd you go?" Feet crossing the floor above them, and then a second clunk.

They glanced out from behind their impromptu barricades, and saw a ladder wobbling as a body descended.

"Hey, it's me."


"The one and only. Can I help you lift your stuff up a floor? Then you don't have to worry about the door at all."

"You took the ladders."

"That I did."

Sunday, February 2, 2014

It's Worse Than Wrestling

stop dancing on my fingertips,
I've got so much more to write;
don't take away my words from me,
don't take away my light.

stop healing up my soul,
I need to hurt some more;
don't take my reasons away,
don't you dare make me whole.

stop trying to distract me,
I might be building an ode to you;
don't stop me from my writing,
don't think there's anything you can do.

stop holding back my words,
it hurts if they aren't let out;
don't make my head worse,
don't start another bout.