Friday, April 11, 2008


It is easy, in the long reaches of the night, to find myself lost in musings, on any number of subjects. The stars burn their ice fire above, whilst a lone scribe belabors his quill upon a scratched parchment, bleeding ink like ochre from the wound of his mind, at last pouring forth upon a page a travail of misery. Perhaps this may seem dismal, but then all great artists must suffer right? But perhaps it is the very act of which a magic is created, the words dance to a masters command, seem to leap from the very page, drawing images in ones mind, and is this not the magic of the scribe?
I enjoy writing, unfortunately the very act of writing can be very exhausting, but the work, when finished can express, and cause many emotions in the reader, but it is a product of the magic of creation, which lingers long in the air. Notice I use the word magic a lot? I have come across people in my sojourning that have the strangest beliefs, for instance they have this idea that anything called magic is inherently evil, so I persist in calling such things as this magic, for their benefit, and edification. Magic, as I understand it is neither good nor evil, it is merely the use that is put to that makes it so. If I conjure a coin from anothers ear, it has nothing to do with evil, merely science; if I create a story that draws pictures in the readers mind is that not also science, or magic if you will?
If anything one does not understand automatically is labeled evil, then I must, perforce declare emotions like fear evil. Is not this much like magic, I lack the understanding of this, like one may lack the knowledge of coin or card tricks. So if Understanding is lacking, Knowledge must be obtained, to deny this is to control education, and a result will be a failure. My mind is on this as I see the hash being made of the Canadian education system, where a child may graduate without ever having learned to spell, or calculate in their heads. In this system a child may even graduate without ever having learned the price paid for their freedom, as their history ends in the era I was born in. Whomever forgets the past is doomed to repeat it, and I do not wish to see this occur. In my point of view they are being taught to be sheep, and will willingly march to their doom, merely because somebody told them to, of course they would be unable to think creatively, so would be unable to conceptualise escape.
But that's just my opinion.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008


I have lived a life of solitude, and loneliness has been my constant companion. For long and long I have lived alone, but it is not the choice I would have made - had I had a choice. I have searched high and low for one I could love, and would in return love me, and never have I found her. Perhaps it will be her who finds me, would that not be the ultimate irony?
My accustomed way of life is difficult for many to grasp, much less accept. In a sedentary farmers world, I am a rover, a wayfarer upon the highways of life, and it is a life without the stability many women seek. A road is never so lonely as when you travel it alone.

The sky is of an ebony hue, as I pour the misery of my stomach out in ink upo the paper. The night has grown late and once more sleep has eluded me. It is in the long hours of the Third Watch that I began to pour out my thoughts, and though my duties have ended, I still continue. I am in a situation where life seems to be spiralling out of control, and nowhere I turn are answers to be found.
When life is simple faith is easy, but at times like this my desire for control seems to ( at times
) occlude my faith. I know that all I have to do is let go, but it goes against all of my instinct, and training. In my minds eye I can envision it; a warrior, weary and worn, in armor wrent and cloven, with his back to an open gate. Fighting all comers, because to retreat, even through the gate, would seem a dishonor.
I lack the capability of fear, if I did not, I am certain that worry wwould cloud my mind. Fear for the future would be a certainty, but instead I plot and plan, and try to decide my next moves. As always I seem to be in a situation where I lack enough information to make an informed decision. I flip a coin and it lands on edge. I gather that I must take the advice I gave to another not so long ago; without looking take a leap of faith. Now must I practise what I teach, ironic no?


The Beach
I'll stand on the beach on the edge of eternity
I'll stay and count the sands of time
I'll wait till I find you
I'll pay court to you with prose and rhyme
you'll know that I do love you true
together on the beach on the edge of eternity

We'll stay on the beach and watch the tide
We'll stride along, past the rocks of disaster
we'll be happy once more
we'll tarry or run, go along slower, or faster
You'll know it's love, mi amore
as we stay on the beach and watch the tide

You'll dance in the water, twixt the shore and sea
You'll know you have captured my heart
You'll be mine and I'll be yours
You'll own my love in whole, not in part
You're the one I love and adore
as you dance in the water twixt the shore and sea


The night was black as satin,
the moon danced gaily in a cloudless sky
the aroma of jasmine drifted by
as by a garden pool, you and I
declared love eternal, undyin'

The stars sang beauteously
the eastern winds breezed through
and played your hair, danced about you
overhead a bird spoke of love so true
and your eyes laughed flirtatiously

Silk your skin, spun gold your hair
you a beauty, me the beast, by a garden pool
the moon is silver and full, yes I'm the fool
I speak in rough barbaric talk as a rule
to wax long on love is to declare

Tuesday, April 8, 2008


As my last post suggested, I write poetry, and because the last post was on the subject of love, I will provide y'all a love poem. Yes, I wrote it, and some time ago too. In fact I think that I may add some of my poetry with every posting, so long as it fits with the general theme.

How long can I live this way
alone, by myself, no one to share
when can I give my love away
to a lady for whom I respect and care

I see a sunset, the colors of dusk
I see Homer's wine dark seas
I smell jasmine, or is it your musk
upon the air, a dancin' in the trees

I see the mountains, all a fire
the mist a swirlling on the river
I hear your voice, upon a spire
it kisses my cheek, caresses till I shiver

I feel you at my side mi amore
I see you upon my horizon
and sure I am the one you adore
cause I see your heart, mi corazon

I want to hold you, amaguita
and to never let you go
I want to marry you, chicita
this you need to know.

This is probaby the best love poem I have written, but some people may disagree, as any good artist I try to view a subject from different angles, and view points. Some times I look into a possible future, and other times I watch the past, and always I write what I see. This is merely a warning should some day I write a post on something that appears to have little time sense, (is it past, present or still to come), like some thing on politics, or theology, or philosophy. Any poem attached to such a blog will be of a similar theme, and likely just as hard to understand.
But I think that love is a good subject to continue upon, with rabbit trails now and then, to prevent monotony.

Monday, April 7, 2008


These were written in my journal some time ago, in my journal I write various thoughts and story ideas, and sometimes even poetry.
If marriage can be said to be the greatest battlefield, the courtship must be the opening skirmish. It is a pity that there are so few capable warriors, (or perhaps shield maids), to find in this Northern Land, if there were more then I may well be engaged in a battle Royal by now. An ancient legend states that when two hearts beat as one even the gods become afraid; I think that this would be what the One God designed marriage for in the first place.
Perhaps it is a denial of this that makes some women think I come on too strong or aggressively. My very tentative approach speaks of caution, I try to never underestimate my opponent; perhaps I overestimate them instead. Each women I meet wants some thing different, but they are usually seeking an impossible to meet figment of their Disney colored imaginations. Not all princes are fabulously wealthy, more than a few actually work for a living. Perhaps if they kissed a few frogs their dreams might come true, after all the Beast was a prince too.
What is love?, and why are people so fixated upon it, moreover, how does one fall into it like it was a well?
As for myself I don't have the answers, but I do have an opinion. It is my contention that if one falls into something then there must be a way out; but real love is not so much an emotion as an action. If one sets out to work at it they may find an emotion tied to it; but love is something you do, not something you feel.
Part of the confusion over love is that English is too limiting. There are many types, levels, and degrees of love, but we have one word to cover them all.
I have met an incredible young women recently, who is everything I could want - except married to me. She has a beauty all her own, it radiates about her like streaming light. Her mind is sharp, honed to a diamond edge, which can be good for cutting through glassy stares. She has a true desire to follow the LORD, and in some ways is stronger in her faith than I. It is for all these things I appreciate her, but it is for who she is that I have begun to love her.
Now I realise that my concepts of love are often hard to fathom, but to me love is an action, not merely an emotion. If true love is a choice, then, by definition it must be an action, and if this hypothesis is correct, then it is not merely an emotional state. Whom among us would truly choose to have an uncontrollable emotion that is so volatile that it can warp all reality.
On the other hand passion is not an action, but it can be motivated by an action. Pure unbridled passion for anything can also be called a love for it. English as a language is very limiting, our word love encompasses all the words for different types into one. Perhaps our vocabulary has become too limited on this subject, I could be wrong; this is just my opinion.