A shadow across the soul, scars, My masters whisper in my head. Slaying dragons through a haze of smoke. I flow into my form, water evaporates it's sacrifice to the sun that turns it's skin to quicksilver. I am the now, the rain, the rhyme and the meter.
Dashiell Hammet's letters to Lillian Hellman engender Noir and namers, Ozymandias' insomnia leads to a night of writing, last of the good scotch, the last of the exquisite 'oghma' blend tobacco and backwoods cigars, I am the literary equivalent of Clint Eastwood in a Spaghetti Western.
My sky, I am halved yet whole. I am two and too.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
when in the now
when in the now
the bliss of strike and thrust
the grip a sacred vow
a twin in it's lust
closer than any lover
blood's debt is paid
it's in the partner
and the touch of blade
who are you fighting
tis the blade or me
the feints are inviting
what did you see
the two becoming one
in the opponent define
please forgive the pun
take the center line
the shadow will embrace
the sword shall confess
a point to the face
in this game of chess
the foe is no stranger
that is the thing
the queen a greater danger
than any lonesome king
with the weapon tease
eyes gain the measure
the momentun sieze
take time with pleasure
learn to free the will
keep calm the breath
go in for the kill
called the little death
the bliss of strike and thrust
the grip a sacred vow
a twin in it's lust
closer than any lover
blood's debt is paid
it's in the partner
and the touch of blade
who are you fighting
tis the blade or me
the feints are inviting
what did you see
the two becoming one
in the opponent define
please forgive the pun
take the center line
the shadow will embrace
the sword shall confess
a point to the face
in this game of chess
the foe is no stranger
that is the thing
the queen a greater danger
than any lonesome king
with the weapon tease
eyes gain the measure
the momentun sieze
take time with pleasure
learn to free the will
keep calm the breath
go in for the kill
called the little death
to the rain I listen
it is to the rain I listen,
the weave I did sew
street newborn glisten,
between want and know
forever dreaming shadow
a soul in skin ignite
laughter joyous sorrow
soaring blade delight
in honor dictates
opponent you undress
the blade stillness waits
the power in finesse
seams unseen seeming
ripped from crotch to crown
sheeps clothing redeeming
in crimson river drown
moon face scarring
in poetic phrases
memory is marring
inconstant are her phases
stygian maiden wooed
silver dress remove
her kiss becoming food
starvation fidelity proove
the weave I did sew
street newborn glisten,
between want and know
forever dreaming shadow
a soul in skin ignite
laughter joyous sorrow
soaring blade delight
in honor dictates
opponent you undress
the blade stillness waits
the power in finesse
seams unseen seeming
ripped from crotch to crown
sheeps clothing redeeming
in crimson river drown
moon face scarring
in poetic phrases
memory is marring
inconstant are her phases
stygian maiden wooed
silver dress remove
her kiss becoming food
starvation fidelity proove
Friday, January 20, 2012
TO THE STARS and BACK AGAIN - a story from the archive
TO THE STARS and BACK AGAIN
A tale of Cyran and Mirana
It was a clear night when Cyran Oghma knelt before the stone monument, his cold blue eyes shining.
CYRAN – Hello my love.
He cleared the vines from the simple stone marker. Brushed off the autumnal leaves.
CYRAN – I miss you so much my love, you knew didn’t you? You knew you were going to die. I would have done anything to stop it.
Tears poured down the old warriors face. He had always half joked that he would not profane the beauty of tears by putting them on a face like his. He figured the Gods would forgive him.
CYRAN - But I keep my word.
And with that he looked up to the stars. And screamed.
CYRAN – I LOVE YOU MIRANA !!!!!
Memories bled back into him, a younger Cyran and his true love were walking in the gilded moonlight, hand in hand. They were away from the temple and need not fear discovery. His mind was elsewhere. He was waiting on an intelligence briefing in the morning. Starfall was concerned about Nocturne’s recent activities. Nocturne took delight in corruption of Jedi DNA.
MIRANA – Do you love me Cyran?
CYRAN – Of course.
It seemed an odd question for her to ask him. She knew he did. But sometimes she just needed to hear it. She had the sight, she knew more than anyone what the future held.
MIRANA – I know you feel that. But could you do me a favor.
CYRAN – Anything. My treasure.
MIRANA – Proclaim your love for me, scream it to the stars. The stars will always remember true love.
CYRAN – Now?
He said with a smile. He was standing ready to proclaim it to the universe.
MIRANA – Not now, but someday when you are alone, and it’s just you between the midnight and the dawn.
CYRAN - You have my word.
MIRANA – To the stars and back again.
CYRAN – To the stars and back again.
They shared a kiss then.
Cyran returned back from the realm of memory. He stood quietly for a moment and listened to the wind sweeping up the leaves. Listened for her voice, her song. All he heard was the wind.
CYRAN -The stars will always remember true love
He muttered to himself. As he walked off into the night.
A small figure approached the stone marker. She watched the ancient warrior poet walk off into a time he wasn’t meant to be in. A time he was ill suited for. She reached out a slender hand and brushed a flame red lock of hair from eyes of oceanic blue.
MIRANA – Yes they do.
A tale of Cyran and Mirana
It was a clear night when Cyran Oghma knelt before the stone monument, his cold blue eyes shining.
CYRAN – Hello my love.
He cleared the vines from the simple stone marker. Brushed off the autumnal leaves.
CYRAN – I miss you so much my love, you knew didn’t you? You knew you were going to die. I would have done anything to stop it.
Tears poured down the old warriors face. He had always half joked that he would not profane the beauty of tears by putting them on a face like his. He figured the Gods would forgive him.
CYRAN - But I keep my word.
And with that he looked up to the stars. And screamed.
CYRAN – I LOVE YOU MIRANA !!!!!
Memories bled back into him, a younger Cyran and his true love were walking in the gilded moonlight, hand in hand. They were away from the temple and need not fear discovery. His mind was elsewhere. He was waiting on an intelligence briefing in the morning. Starfall was concerned about Nocturne’s recent activities. Nocturne took delight in corruption of Jedi DNA.
MIRANA – Do you love me Cyran?
CYRAN – Of course.
It seemed an odd question for her to ask him. She knew he did. But sometimes she just needed to hear it. She had the sight, she knew more than anyone what the future held.
MIRANA – I know you feel that. But could you do me a favor.
CYRAN – Anything. My treasure.
MIRANA – Proclaim your love for me, scream it to the stars. The stars will always remember true love.
CYRAN – Now?
He said with a smile. He was standing ready to proclaim it to the universe.
MIRANA – Not now, but someday when you are alone, and it’s just you between the midnight and the dawn.
CYRAN - You have my word.
MIRANA – To the stars and back again.
CYRAN – To the stars and back again.
They shared a kiss then.
Cyran returned back from the realm of memory. He stood quietly for a moment and listened to the wind sweeping up the leaves. Listened for her voice, her song. All he heard was the wind.
CYRAN -The stars will always remember true love
He muttered to himself. As he walked off into the night.
A small figure approached the stone marker. She watched the ancient warrior poet walk off into a time he wasn’t meant to be in. A time he was ill suited for. She reached out a slender hand and brushed a flame red lock of hair from eyes of oceanic blue.
MIRANA – Yes they do.
Night Voices - an old story from the archive
NIGHT VOICES
A tale of Cyran and Tindómë
The night was black, the moonlight gilded the streets. Six men were chasing down a small woman through a twisted warren of back alleys the locals called the Maze. They were gaining on her. And it wasn’t credits they were after. Her cloak whipped in the stale winds until she hit a dead end and looked up to see no avenue of escape.
CYRAN – Greetings, fellow sinners.
There at the end of the alley stood a man garbed in violet.
CYRAN – Let her be.
The front four ran to the stranger, armed with nasty-looking knives. Two went further down into the alley after their prey.
CYRAN – Miss, I’m here to rescue…
The four soon-to-be corpses charged, and before Cyran Oghma could get to his sabers, he heard a familiar snap-hiss as red light gave the two felons a quick lesson in division. Two wholes suddenly became four halves.
CYRAN – …. you.
The four men were now running away from the petite woman. Cyran drew his sabers and stood in their way.
CYRAN – My turn.
The math lesson was over quickly. As they lay there, Cyran Oghma bowed deeply to the young woman approaching him.
TINDÓMË – Cyran Oghma?
CYRAN –Yes.
TINDÓMË – I hear her too.
And then she started to hum, a tune he heard in his dreams. A tune no one other than he and she knew. A song she sang him to sleep with.
Then the petite woman’s wings unfurled and she took to the air. Cyran made chase. Quickly using force leaps to get to the rooftops, he chased the bat-winged angel through the night. Rooftop to rooftop he leapt, then, realizing he was too old for these games, force-closed her wings together and sent her plummeting back to the ground. Cyran caught her before electromagnetism proved it was stronger than gravity. Cyran reminded himself to thank Taomoon for that bit of knowledge.
The tiny bat didn’t struggle as the ancient warrior poet put her down gently.
TINDÓMË – Why did you catch me?
CYRAN – Where did you hear that song?
TINDÓMË – On the wind. Her voice is beautiful. Who is she? The one whose stone you visit?
CYRAN – Yes.
TINDÓMË – She’s out there.
CYRAN – She can’t be.
TINDOME – How very little you know, I hear her. She says, “Just remember I love you, and you’ll always be mine.”
CYRAN – That is in the song, my little bat.
Cyran’s cynicism was returning.
TINDÓMË – She also says, “It is truly love, the sad rages, the constant thoughts. And yet it is not selfish. For your happiness I would give my own life gladly, even if you must never know, if it could be that sometimes where I was, no matter how far, I could hear your laughter born of my sacrifice. I fear nothing but your loss. Do you realize? Do you perceive this soul in a shadow? A soul to you, the candle that gives me warmth in the chilling darkness and light to see. Without you I am lost forever. This night, this glorious night, is too perfect. It only means for me to die now, with the sight of you trembling like a leaf through branches of jasmine. I love, greater than anyone, I hold the sun in my heart for you, my half soul. You illuminate me, those eyes a beacon to shore. You are my life and in those eyes, I surpass all things, in those eyes love itself could not love as much as I.”
Cyran had only told one person those words, an autumn night centuries ago. The night after a tear-stained page changed his life forever.
TINDÓMË – She wasn’t singing the song about you going to battle.
CYRAN – She was telling me goodbye.
TINDÓMË -You find her, old warrior, old poet. You save her. Just like you saved me.
And with that, outstretched wings flew into the heart of the night.
TINDÓMË – Give me a poem.
She said flying into the music of the night.
CYRAN – I already have the title. It’s called “ In praise of bats”.
A tale of Cyran and Tindómë
The night was black, the moonlight gilded the streets. Six men were chasing down a small woman through a twisted warren of back alleys the locals called the Maze. They were gaining on her. And it wasn’t credits they were after. Her cloak whipped in the stale winds until she hit a dead end and looked up to see no avenue of escape.
CYRAN – Greetings, fellow sinners.
There at the end of the alley stood a man garbed in violet.
CYRAN – Let her be.
The front four ran to the stranger, armed with nasty-looking knives. Two went further down into the alley after their prey.
CYRAN – Miss, I’m here to rescue…
The four soon-to-be corpses charged, and before Cyran Oghma could get to his sabers, he heard a familiar snap-hiss as red light gave the two felons a quick lesson in division. Two wholes suddenly became four halves.
CYRAN – …. you.
The four men were now running away from the petite woman. Cyran drew his sabers and stood in their way.
CYRAN – My turn.
The math lesson was over quickly. As they lay there, Cyran Oghma bowed deeply to the young woman approaching him.
TINDÓMË – Cyran Oghma?
CYRAN –Yes.
TINDÓMË – I hear her too.
And then she started to hum, a tune he heard in his dreams. A tune no one other than he and she knew. A song she sang him to sleep with.
Then the petite woman’s wings unfurled and she took to the air. Cyran made chase. Quickly using force leaps to get to the rooftops, he chased the bat-winged angel through the night. Rooftop to rooftop he leapt, then, realizing he was too old for these games, force-closed her wings together and sent her plummeting back to the ground. Cyran caught her before electromagnetism proved it was stronger than gravity. Cyran reminded himself to thank Taomoon for that bit of knowledge.
The tiny bat didn’t struggle as the ancient warrior poet put her down gently.
TINDÓMË – Why did you catch me?
CYRAN – Where did you hear that song?
TINDÓMË – On the wind. Her voice is beautiful. Who is she? The one whose stone you visit?
CYRAN – Yes.
TINDÓMË – She’s out there.
CYRAN – She can’t be.
TINDOME – How very little you know, I hear her. She says, “Just remember I love you, and you’ll always be mine.”
CYRAN – That is in the song, my little bat.
Cyran’s cynicism was returning.
TINDÓMË – She also says, “It is truly love, the sad rages, the constant thoughts. And yet it is not selfish. For your happiness I would give my own life gladly, even if you must never know, if it could be that sometimes where I was, no matter how far, I could hear your laughter born of my sacrifice. I fear nothing but your loss. Do you realize? Do you perceive this soul in a shadow? A soul to you, the candle that gives me warmth in the chilling darkness and light to see. Without you I am lost forever. This night, this glorious night, is too perfect. It only means for me to die now, with the sight of you trembling like a leaf through branches of jasmine. I love, greater than anyone, I hold the sun in my heart for you, my half soul. You illuminate me, those eyes a beacon to shore. You are my life and in those eyes, I surpass all things, in those eyes love itself could not love as much as I.”
Cyran had only told one person those words, an autumn night centuries ago. The night after a tear-stained page changed his life forever.
TINDÓMË – She wasn’t singing the song about you going to battle.
CYRAN – She was telling me goodbye.
TINDÓMË -You find her, old warrior, old poet. You save her. Just like you saved me.
And with that, outstretched wings flew into the heart of the night.
TINDÓMË – Give me a poem.
She said flying into the music of the night.
CYRAN – I already have the title. It’s called “ In praise of bats”.
Embraces - an old story from the archive
EMBRACES
The nightmare is always the same. She falls, He cannot save her as Nocturne brings the red blade across her neck, takes the locket he gave her and runs. He hears her whisper to him
MIRANA – You’ll always be mine
Cyran Oghma then drains the contents of his glass. Lights a candle, and writes. Pours another glass and raises it to the flame.
CYRAN – To you my love and to the house of Oghma.
She was singing to him again, the dream came
Cyran Oghma was falling from a force assisted leap, blue sabers swinging in the night sky. As he brought them squarely on the head of the sentry droid. Cutting it in two pieces. Cyran chuckled to himself. He loved his work as an intelligence gatherer for the order. He had an easy charm that made him blend into any crowd. His skills with force persuasion and illusion were superior, and at his young age, he was an accomplished master in three of the seven lightsaber combat forms. A voice came from the darkness. As a violet saber came to his throat.
STARFALL – Never mistake flash for martial prowess, Oghma.
CYRAN – My apologies Master Starfall but it looked fantastic.
STARFALL – I’ve seen better. Now to the business at hand.
The two crept through the complex, taking out sentry droids as they came. Until they got to the vault they were seeking. Cyran promptly overwrote the security protocols and Starfall got the holochron they were sent for.
STARFALL – Remind me to discipline you tomorrow.
CYRAN – Always master.
The next morning Cyran was up for training. Starfall was waiting. Starfall ignited his saber with a snaphiss and charged. Cyran went blade to blade with his old master. In the surgical lines of Makashi the two argued. Cyran had just mastered the 1000 point thrust from that holchron he had liberated.
STARFALL – The council is giving you a padawan.
CYRAN – Oh please no. I don’t have time. There are secrets to gather. Booze to be met, women to drink, or is that the reverse.
STARFALL – Poetry to write.
CYRAN – I’ll never understand why you have me do it.
STARFALL – Poetry is swordplay Cyran, rhyme and meter, form and function.
CYRAN – As you say master.
STARFALL – You’re speaking.
CYRAN – But what I want is a family, Master Starfall. A bloodline of my own. The house of Oghma. My crest a sword and quill crossed.
STARFALL – That for you Cyran would be the summit of selfishness. The way you live. The risks you take. The Jedi is your family.
Cyran grumbled under his breath.
CYRAN – And my new apprentices name.
STARFALL – Mirana.
The next morning Cyran again woke for training, a light rain was falling. And in the courtyard stood a woman practicing the elegant cuts of Niman. Her back to him. She was singing a lingering haunting tune. He closed his eyes to listen, but opened them when he heard the words.
MIRANA – Master Cyran Oghma.
CYRAN – Yes I…
She turned to face him, she was a full foot shorter than he was. Eyes of oceanic blue. Waves of flame red hair falling into them. He was staring into a face beauty herself would envy. He was doomed from the start.
A little while later…
CYRAN – Remember Makashi is about finesse, not power.
She followed two spin thrusts with a wheel of death. Singing as she spun.
MIRANA – I remember.
CYRAN – How is your Jar’ Kai
Without warning she ignited a second saber and came at him with a pattern called the fan. Characterized by lightning quick snaps of the wrists. He barely got his own second saber ignited, when she changed patterns again. The two laughed matching strike for strike. Until both were exhausted.
MIRANA – So did I pass the audition.
CYRAN – Yes indeed.
That night he couldn’t sleep. She was in his head. Restless, he decided to write to her. Months went by. Papers stacked upon papers filled his quarters. Until the morning he overslept. And Starfall sought him in his rooms. Papers flew everywhere as the jedi master pushed open the door.
STARFALL – Redecorating Cyran.
CYRAN – Apologies master, I couldn’t sleep.
STARFALL – Well tidy this place up, and you think this is bad. Mirana’s room is full to brim with sheet music. Can’t you just admit it to each other.
CYRAN – Admit what master?
Starfall smiled. And slipped one of the pages in his robe.
The next day, the sun was shining. Cyran had that tune of her’s in his head in an infinite loop. She was there in the courtyard, back to him. She turned to face him. Crystal tears in her eyes. He went to console her. When she slapped him across the face. Stunned he looked at her.
MIRANA – Well it’s about time.
Then she kissed him, shocked at first he returned the affection. A tear stained page at her feet.
The next six months were idyllic. Letters and songs passed back and forth. Secret meetings, brief moments together. The love was all there was. She worried when he’d go on missions. Nursing his wounds on the Centurion. He would fight off world, the dark things the Sith had wrought. But there was always her to return to. The locket with his symbol he had made for her she wore under her robes. They were happy, Until….
STARFALL – Darth Nocturne is raising an army.
CYRAN – I know all the intelligence reports state…
STARFALL – He’s gotten hold of Jedi DNA. From the captured medical frigate Centurion.
CYRAN – Clones, I hate clones.
STARFALL - Tomorrow we go to war.
CYRAN – But tonight is mine.
The last night he’ll always remember. The night before war. All the promises re-made, amidst embraces that always feel final.
.
MIRANA – Tell me my love.
CYRAN – Anything.
MIRANA – You don’t want me in this battle tomorrow.
CYRAN – You can't go.
MIRANA – Please I’m a good a warrior as you are now.
CYRAN – But war is..
She stopped him with a kiss.
MIRANA – as you wish my love.
Something deep inside him stirred, he thought that she wouldn’t listen to him this time. He pushed the thought away.
CYRAN – I’ll survive, Just remember I love you.
MIRANA – I will
And they said in unison
MIRANA/CYRAN – And you’ll always be mine.
Then she sang Cyran Oghma to sleep.
The nightmare is always the same. She falls, He cannot save her as Nocturne brings the red blade across her neck, takes the locket he gave her and runs. He hears her whisper to him
MIRANA – You’ll always be mine
Cyran Oghma then drains the contents of his glass. Lights a candle, and writes. Pours another glass and raises it to the flame.
CYRAN – To you my love and to the house of Oghma.
She was singing to him again, the dream came
Cyran Oghma was falling from a force assisted leap, blue sabers swinging in the night sky. As he brought them squarely on the head of the sentry droid. Cutting it in two pieces. Cyran chuckled to himself. He loved his work as an intelligence gatherer for the order. He had an easy charm that made him blend into any crowd. His skills with force persuasion and illusion were superior, and at his young age, he was an accomplished master in three of the seven lightsaber combat forms. A voice came from the darkness. As a violet saber came to his throat.
STARFALL – Never mistake flash for martial prowess, Oghma.
CYRAN – My apologies Master Starfall but it looked fantastic.
STARFALL – I’ve seen better. Now to the business at hand.
The two crept through the complex, taking out sentry droids as they came. Until they got to the vault they were seeking. Cyran promptly overwrote the security protocols and Starfall got the holochron they were sent for.
STARFALL – Remind me to discipline you tomorrow.
CYRAN – Always master.
The next morning Cyran was up for training. Starfall was waiting. Starfall ignited his saber with a snaphiss and charged. Cyran went blade to blade with his old master. In the surgical lines of Makashi the two argued. Cyran had just mastered the 1000 point thrust from that holchron he had liberated.
STARFALL – The council is giving you a padawan.
CYRAN – Oh please no. I don’t have time. There are secrets to gather. Booze to be met, women to drink, or is that the reverse.
STARFALL – Poetry to write.
CYRAN – I’ll never understand why you have me do it.
STARFALL – Poetry is swordplay Cyran, rhyme and meter, form and function.
CYRAN – As you say master.
STARFALL – You’re speaking.
CYRAN – But what I want is a family, Master Starfall. A bloodline of my own. The house of Oghma. My crest a sword and quill crossed.
STARFALL – That for you Cyran would be the summit of selfishness. The way you live. The risks you take. The Jedi is your family.
Cyran grumbled under his breath.
CYRAN – And my new apprentices name.
STARFALL – Mirana.
The next morning Cyran again woke for training, a light rain was falling. And in the courtyard stood a woman practicing the elegant cuts of Niman. Her back to him. She was singing a lingering haunting tune. He closed his eyes to listen, but opened them when he heard the words.
MIRANA – Master Cyran Oghma.
CYRAN – Yes I…
She turned to face him, she was a full foot shorter than he was. Eyes of oceanic blue. Waves of flame red hair falling into them. He was staring into a face beauty herself would envy. He was doomed from the start.
A little while later…
CYRAN – Remember Makashi is about finesse, not power.
She followed two spin thrusts with a wheel of death. Singing as she spun.
MIRANA – I remember.
CYRAN – How is your Jar’ Kai
Without warning she ignited a second saber and came at him with a pattern called the fan. Characterized by lightning quick snaps of the wrists. He barely got his own second saber ignited, when she changed patterns again. The two laughed matching strike for strike. Until both were exhausted.
MIRANA – So did I pass the audition.
CYRAN – Yes indeed.
That night he couldn’t sleep. She was in his head. Restless, he decided to write to her. Months went by. Papers stacked upon papers filled his quarters. Until the morning he overslept. And Starfall sought him in his rooms. Papers flew everywhere as the jedi master pushed open the door.
STARFALL – Redecorating Cyran.
CYRAN – Apologies master, I couldn’t sleep.
STARFALL – Well tidy this place up, and you think this is bad. Mirana’s room is full to brim with sheet music. Can’t you just admit it to each other.
CYRAN – Admit what master?
Starfall smiled. And slipped one of the pages in his robe.
The next day, the sun was shining. Cyran had that tune of her’s in his head in an infinite loop. She was there in the courtyard, back to him. She turned to face him. Crystal tears in her eyes. He went to console her. When she slapped him across the face. Stunned he looked at her.
MIRANA – Well it’s about time.
Then she kissed him, shocked at first he returned the affection. A tear stained page at her feet.
The next six months were idyllic. Letters and songs passed back and forth. Secret meetings, brief moments together. The love was all there was. She worried when he’d go on missions. Nursing his wounds on the Centurion. He would fight off world, the dark things the Sith had wrought. But there was always her to return to. The locket with his symbol he had made for her she wore under her robes. They were happy, Until….
STARFALL – Darth Nocturne is raising an army.
CYRAN – I know all the intelligence reports state…
STARFALL – He’s gotten hold of Jedi DNA. From the captured medical frigate Centurion.
CYRAN – Clones, I hate clones.
STARFALL - Tomorrow we go to war.
CYRAN – But tonight is mine.
The last night he’ll always remember. The night before war. All the promises re-made, amidst embraces that always feel final.
.
MIRANA – Tell me my love.
CYRAN – Anything.
MIRANA – You don’t want me in this battle tomorrow.
CYRAN – You can't go.
MIRANA – Please I’m a good a warrior as you are now.
CYRAN – But war is..
She stopped him with a kiss.
MIRANA – as you wish my love.
Something deep inside him stirred, he thought that she wouldn’t listen to him this time. He pushed the thought away.
CYRAN – I’ll survive, Just remember I love you.
MIRANA – I will
And they said in unison
MIRANA/CYRAN – And you’ll always be mine.
Then she sang Cyran Oghma to sleep.
Reliance - an old story from the archives
Reliance
Of all the beings in the galaxy Cyran Oghma was one of the few that could make Kalius A’dar laugh. The two old friends were sparring, a weekly event kept away from the younglings’ peering eyes. Cyran was fighting with rapier and dagger, Kalius an ancient katana. Steel rang against steel as the two spoke of temple business.
KALIUS – You know the younglings refer to the cantinas as your second temple.
A brief exchange, steel ringing in their hands.
CYRAN – Really. I wasn’t aware of that.
Cyran said through his trademark wry smile, then lunging for Kalius’ sternum. Kalius swatted it away.
KALIUS - You are bad influence on them Cyran, you spoil them. Too over protective. And the brawling. You are even training the assassin sent to kill you.
Kalius struck at Cyran’s head, he ducked, Cyran riposted with a strike to Kalius’ left wrist, which Kalius parried and spun.
CYRAN – Twice a week, she’s getting good
KALIUS – And the cantina incident with Udo.
Cyran dodged, as Kalius gave him a head butt. Cyran threw a kick.
CYRAN – Math is not my strong suit.
KALIUS – And you do love to listen to the cantina singers don’t you.
CYRAN – Is that a crime.
Cyran disengages.
KALIUS – She used to sing to you, didn’t she. Does she still?
Cyran, rarely at a loss for words, changes the subject and went into a retreat thrust. Kalius, knowing Cyran’s tricks from his bag of death, didn’t take the bait.
CYRAN – What are the stakes today?
KALIUS – I win, you stay sober for a month.
CYRAN – My gods, and when I win.
Kalius went high, Cyran blocked him, then struck at Kalius’ eyes with a quick snap of his wrist.
KALIUS – You can go drinking- lecture free- for a month. Do you accept?
Cyran Oghma nodded.
CYRAN – Shall I compose a sonnet while we duel?
Kalius threw all his power into three devastating strikes to Cyran’s shoulders and head, The Makashi / Jar’Kai master used both blades to hold off the onslaught.
KALIUS – Quit showing off.
CYRAN – So what are you going to lecture me about this fine day, sword brother; the evils of drink?
Cyran went into a blizzard of thrusts.
KALIUS – No, wouldn’t have any credibility there. And that was last week.
CYRAN – Smoking too much of the pipe.
Kalius parries with ease.
KALIUS - Week before last, no my old friend – today we talk about the force.
CYRAN – Heard of it
Sarcasm pouring out of him, Cyran charged forward and stepped out to get a clean strike at the Juyo Master’s center line.
KALIUS – You rely far more on your sabers, although formidable, than you do on the force. And I’ve only seen you use the force when you are….
CYRAN – Drinking the liquid muse.
Kalius launched two devastating strikes at Cyran’s hips, which he parried with grace.
KALIUS – Why?
CYRAN – My blades are enough.
Cyran launched into his 8 star weaving pattern.
KALIUS – Or did you lose your faith?
Cyran sped up, a blur of motion.
CYRAN – Faith is Sun’s department, not mine.
Kalius stepped up his defense.
KALIUS – Then give me your words.
CYRAN – You cut deeply my friend. The force failed me once.
Kalius struck back with power, Cyran grace and precision.
KALIUS – Mirana.
Cyran changed tactics, new patterns weaving through the air blades cutting the air. More power now in the blows.
CYRAN – Don’t speak of her Kalius, you have never loved. The Juyo you perfect is all focusing of anger. My focus is love. Indifference is not part of me.
KALIUS – I know, old friend. But your love will get you killed.
CYRAN – We all die Kalius, just some die better than others.
KALIUS – Huh, always the poet.
They locked blades Cyran pushed away.
CYRAN – But of course.
KALIUS – You still hear her voice.
Cyran stuck hard and fast
CYRAN – Stop it Kalius.
KALIUS – You still write for her.
Kalius counters, with more effort than he wanted.
CYRAN – Brother I warn you…
KALIUS – Then don’t throw your life away.
CYRAN – It’s mine to do as I please.
KALIUS – She’s gone Cyran.
Cyran screamed and went on the total furious offensive, then quoted the old Jedi Code.
CYRAN – Death, yet the force!
The two locked, throwing blades, punches and kicks.
KALIUS – Then let’s get you back your faith.
Kalius said landing a perfect backfist into Cyran.
CYRAN - I rely on no one nor no thing.
Cyran pummeled Kalius with both blades, knocking Kalius off his feet. Kalius recovered and took to the air.
KALIUS – Then your reliance should be with us.
The two masters stopped, in high parry; neither budging, neither giving ground. The argument was too long coming.
CYRAN – We’ll call it a draw, two weeks sober
KALIUS – Two weeks without lectures.
The two friends, two masters stared at each other for a moment.
KALIUS – Let me buy you a drink, brother.
CYRAN – Who am I to refuse. How many Sith does it take to light a lantern?
KALIUS - How many?
CYRAN - One thousand and one. It requires the Lord of the Sith to order that the lantern be lit, Nine hundred and ninety nine Sith lords to leer, moan, be evil and scream, and one apprentice to light the lantern.
Kalius laughed all the way to the cantina.
Of all the beings in the galaxy Cyran Oghma was one of the few that could make Kalius A’dar laugh. The two old friends were sparring, a weekly event kept away from the younglings’ peering eyes. Cyran was fighting with rapier and dagger, Kalius an ancient katana. Steel rang against steel as the two spoke of temple business.
KALIUS – You know the younglings refer to the cantinas as your second temple.
A brief exchange, steel ringing in their hands.
CYRAN – Really. I wasn’t aware of that.
Cyran said through his trademark wry smile, then lunging for Kalius’ sternum. Kalius swatted it away.
KALIUS - You are bad influence on them Cyran, you spoil them. Too over protective. And the brawling. You are even training the assassin sent to kill you.
Kalius struck at Cyran’s head, he ducked, Cyran riposted with a strike to Kalius’ left wrist, which Kalius parried and spun.
CYRAN – Twice a week, she’s getting good
KALIUS – And the cantina incident with Udo.
Cyran dodged, as Kalius gave him a head butt. Cyran threw a kick.
CYRAN – Math is not my strong suit.
KALIUS – And you do love to listen to the cantina singers don’t you.
CYRAN – Is that a crime.
Cyran disengages.
KALIUS – She used to sing to you, didn’t she. Does she still?
Cyran, rarely at a loss for words, changes the subject and went into a retreat thrust. Kalius, knowing Cyran’s tricks from his bag of death, didn’t take the bait.
CYRAN – What are the stakes today?
KALIUS – I win, you stay sober for a month.
CYRAN – My gods, and when I win.
Kalius went high, Cyran blocked him, then struck at Kalius’ eyes with a quick snap of his wrist.
KALIUS – You can go drinking- lecture free- for a month. Do you accept?
Cyran Oghma nodded.
CYRAN – Shall I compose a sonnet while we duel?
Kalius threw all his power into three devastating strikes to Cyran’s shoulders and head, The Makashi / Jar’Kai master used both blades to hold off the onslaught.
KALIUS – Quit showing off.
CYRAN – So what are you going to lecture me about this fine day, sword brother; the evils of drink?
Cyran went into a blizzard of thrusts.
KALIUS – No, wouldn’t have any credibility there. And that was last week.
CYRAN – Smoking too much of the pipe.
Kalius parries with ease.
KALIUS - Week before last, no my old friend – today we talk about the force.
CYRAN – Heard of it
Sarcasm pouring out of him, Cyran charged forward and stepped out to get a clean strike at the Juyo Master’s center line.
KALIUS – You rely far more on your sabers, although formidable, than you do on the force. And I’ve only seen you use the force when you are….
CYRAN – Drinking the liquid muse.
Kalius launched two devastating strikes at Cyran’s hips, which he parried with grace.
KALIUS – Why?
CYRAN – My blades are enough.
Cyran launched into his 8 star weaving pattern.
KALIUS – Or did you lose your faith?
Cyran sped up, a blur of motion.
CYRAN – Faith is Sun’s department, not mine.
Kalius stepped up his defense.
KALIUS – Then give me your words.
CYRAN – You cut deeply my friend. The force failed me once.
Kalius struck back with power, Cyran grace and precision.
KALIUS – Mirana.
Cyran changed tactics, new patterns weaving through the air blades cutting the air. More power now in the blows.
CYRAN – Don’t speak of her Kalius, you have never loved. The Juyo you perfect is all focusing of anger. My focus is love. Indifference is not part of me.
KALIUS – I know, old friend. But your love will get you killed.
CYRAN – We all die Kalius, just some die better than others.
KALIUS – Huh, always the poet.
They locked blades Cyran pushed away.
CYRAN – But of course.
KALIUS – You still hear her voice.
Cyran stuck hard and fast
CYRAN – Stop it Kalius.
KALIUS – You still write for her.
Kalius counters, with more effort than he wanted.
CYRAN – Brother I warn you…
KALIUS – Then don’t throw your life away.
CYRAN – It’s mine to do as I please.
KALIUS – She’s gone Cyran.
Cyran screamed and went on the total furious offensive, then quoted the old Jedi Code.
CYRAN – Death, yet the force!
The two locked, throwing blades, punches and kicks.
KALIUS – Then let’s get you back your faith.
Kalius said landing a perfect backfist into Cyran.
CYRAN - I rely on no one nor no thing.
Cyran pummeled Kalius with both blades, knocking Kalius off his feet. Kalius recovered and took to the air.
KALIUS – Then your reliance should be with us.
The two masters stopped, in high parry; neither budging, neither giving ground. The argument was too long coming.
CYRAN – We’ll call it a draw, two weeks sober
KALIUS – Two weeks without lectures.
The two friends, two masters stared at each other for a moment.
KALIUS – Let me buy you a drink, brother.
CYRAN – Who am I to refuse. How many Sith does it take to light a lantern?
KALIUS - How many?
CYRAN - One thousand and one. It requires the Lord of the Sith to order that the lantern be lit, Nine hundred and ninety nine Sith lords to leer, moan, be evil and scream, and one apprentice to light the lantern.
Kalius laughed all the way to the cantina.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
spada libera
Spada Libera
Live life with passion
Love and be free
In your true fashion
Come “at me!”
Take the pleasure
From the assault
In the measure
Admit the fault
Find the timing
Drop and thrust
In the rhyming
The blade you trust
Learn perception
In furious notion
Through keen deception
Focus emotion
With great insistence
Guard your king
Keep your distance
Make steel sing
Your life is mine
The battles wage
I take the line
And cut the page
Live life with passion
Love and be free
In your true fashion
Come “at me!”
Take the pleasure
From the assault
In the measure
Admit the fault
Find the timing
Drop and thrust
In the rhyming
The blade you trust
Learn perception
In furious notion
Through keen deception
Focus emotion
With great insistence
Guard your king
Keep your distance
Make steel sing
Your life is mine
The battles wage
I take the line
And cut the page
Friday, January 13, 2012
ELECTROMAGNETIC SPECTRUM CUTS
ELECTROMAGNETIC SPECTRUM CUTS
DRILLS AND KILLS - GREEK ALPHABET – COUNTER ATTACKS - ALTERNATING
RED 5
1. Alpha straight thrust to sternum
2. Beta straight thrust to eyes
3. Gamma straight thrust to throat
4. Delta straight thrust to stomach
ORANGE 8
5. Epsilon rib strike
6. Zeta eye strike
7. Eta throat strike
8. Theta collar bone strike
YELLOW 8
9. Iota femoral strike
10. Kappa temple strike
11. Lambda high X cut
12. Mu mid X cut
GREEN 7
13. Nu low X cut
14. Xi cavalry cut
15. Omnicron reverse cavalry cut
16. Pi standard overthrust
BLUE 4
17. Rho standard underthrust
18. Sigma standard left side thrust
19. Tau standard right side thrust
20. Upsilon standard retreat thrust
INDIGO 4
21. Phi pommel to stomach
22. Chi pommel to groin
23. Psi pommel to head
24. Omega reverse thrust to sternum
VIOLET 7
25. Suicide and Cripple Cuts = wrist X,throat,knees,miss pass to Achilles tendon
DRILLS AND KILLS - GREEK ALPHABET – COUNTER ATTACKS - ALTERNATING
RED 5
1. Alpha straight thrust to sternum
2. Beta straight thrust to eyes
3. Gamma straight thrust to throat
4. Delta straight thrust to stomach
ORANGE 8
5. Epsilon rib strike
6. Zeta eye strike
7. Eta throat strike
8. Theta collar bone strike
YELLOW 8
9. Iota femoral strike
10. Kappa temple strike
11. Lambda high X cut
12. Mu mid X cut
GREEN 7
13. Nu low X cut
14. Xi cavalry cut
15. Omnicron reverse cavalry cut
16. Pi standard overthrust
BLUE 4
17. Rho standard underthrust
18. Sigma standard left side thrust
19. Tau standard right side thrust
20. Upsilon standard retreat thrust
INDIGO 4
21. Phi pommel to stomach
22. Chi pommel to groin
23. Psi pommel to head
24. Omega reverse thrust to sternum
VIOLET 7
25. Suicide and Cripple Cuts = wrist X,throat,knees,miss pass to Achilles tendon
Sunday, January 8, 2012
in the open
In The Open
Take your time the master shouted
And choose your moment wisely
Speed has power undoubted
But it means nothing if you miss me
Seduction in blade and deed
Is like guarding your center line
keep it closed until you succeed
and hit a hit finer than sweet wine
Parry, retreat and disengage
Dodge from side to side
Build in the opponent a quiet rage
Let not your blows swing wide
Then when that heart is open
strike strong, fast, and clean
And above all see and listen
Their body tells the scene
Combat is that sacred art
Of hitting and not getting hit
All players play their part
Of blades of steel and wit
Above all take those moments
Feel them in your chest
Give your foe gentle torments
And give them no time for rest
So remember this my novices
There are many ways to miss
But of all of wit’s and steel’s promises
Seal it with a kiss
Take your time the master shouted
And choose your moment wisely
Speed has power undoubted
But it means nothing if you miss me
Seduction in blade and deed
Is like guarding your center line
keep it closed until you succeed
and hit a hit finer than sweet wine
Parry, retreat and disengage
Dodge from side to side
Build in the opponent a quiet rage
Let not your blows swing wide
Then when that heart is open
strike strong, fast, and clean
And above all see and listen
Their body tells the scene
Combat is that sacred art
Of hitting and not getting hit
All players play their part
Of blades of steel and wit
Above all take those moments
Feel them in your chest
Give your foe gentle torments
And give them no time for rest
So remember this my novices
There are many ways to miss
But of all of wit’s and steel’s promises
Seal it with a kiss
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Fiscal eugenics run amok, the nineteenth century is over republicans, women, people of color, and the poor exist. They can vote and have essential humanity. enough of your tired racism and situational ethics. Accept it, we have a voice, hearts and hands, we still live and more importantly refuse to be silent.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
a toast
to my Korea crew, my jedi crew, my old gods, my teachers, my students, and my lost loves, I miss you. Raise a toast, to the lost and found. i am the blonde satan of Hammet, a little prettier than the devil, a face of 30 miles of bad road, eyes of a storm swept ocean,smooth as Johnny Walker blue, Challenge the black to do it's worst with a battered heart that still lustres in the light, never put a sword in the hand of a man who cannot dance, if you die, do it with a sword in your hand and a poem on your lips soft as a first kiss. and remember as always LIVE, LOVE, FIGHT and BE FREE
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