Friday, May 21, 2010

May 22 and the Old Iron Rod

In honor of poor Phineas Gage, a reposting of an old poem...

"May 22 and the Old Iron Rod"

Oh? What's this?
What's happened? What's this?
Red haze and iron rod,
queasy, pierced, and I scream for God.
I feel the air whistle
through my gaping skull,
a hole behind my eye.

What's this? What's happened?
Train tracks dance before my faded vision,
Blurry, blurry.

I tried to blast the rocks,
have I blown myself up instead?
falling backward, I can feel it coming,
my left eye goes blind.
the clouds spin as I come to,
on the ground. Fallen in the sand.

What's happened? What's this?
I don't know, but I do know this,
there's a hole in my head
and all my thoughts are leaking out,
escaping one by one.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Chapter eleven is back up. I added a few details to the scene in the throne room. The following paragraph is chief among them. I felt like a queen who could bring stone to life (or at least an imitation of it) would surround herself with such creatures.

"I was also slightly horrified to note that there were a number of stone sculptures scattered throughout. I noticed the butterflies first. They dotted one wall near the queen, fluttering their gray wings. Snakes slithered down every balustrade, though these thankfully were motionless. There were even a few people, one of which was moving about in a frightful mimicry of the throng surrounding me. And perhaps most striking of all, a great horned owl kept careful watch over the entire court. It was perched on the throne of the queen herself, turning its expressionless head this way and that."

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

So I noticed that I've been using the terms wulfren and wulfrend interchangeably. This is a grievous error on my part, and I apologize for any confusion. Henceforth, wulfren is singular, wulfrend is plural.

If you don't have a clue what I'm talking about...then welcome to the club. ^_-