The Sock-Monkey As Alone

I (when I was younger...and stupid) used to think that the discussion of cultural appropriation was a well-meaning, modern backpedaling towards a type of aesthetic segregation. Now I can see it is just the necessary process of karmic adjustment. A way for pride to be excluded from those who seem to not have the necessary responsibility and discernment to use information that is not their birthright (White people). It still is a landmine field but one, as white people, is part of our cultural inheritance. Our birthright is a kind of guilt from ages of ignorance and genocide. The danger of it is ignorance is also part of our privilege. We are born into a world where we think that we are above the karmic wheel. That we can undo the past by letting other people tell stories about how they were wronged and somehow that will undo every terrible thing that is our heritage. You can't wash away the blood of our past with good intentions. Good intentions do not make us exempt...but it is a s

 "I'm not trying to stump anybody... it's the beauty of the language that I'm interested in." - Buddy Holly Trying to think of something witty to say...it ain't coming. Though that is fine. This is just the new introduction/pinned post of my blog. Well let's get down to it what will you find on this blog?   Several novellas, a hundred or so poems, and a miniatures agnostic war-game I wrote called Panzer Strider. As a bonus there are also some "confessional" pieces about my struggles with mental illness or my weird views on my own faith. Really I don't have much to say other than you are welcome to stick around for a while, that and I wish I could offer words of wisdom but all those I have come across are not mine.  "money food and poetry are ways to live not reasons" - Jim Dodge.

        A prelude On a moon orbiting a dead planet is a nation of nobility and warfare. War is fought with Panzer Striders: biomechanical thirty foot tall armored monsters with supernatural abilities. The panzer striders and there pilots fight in conflict for the heart that dictates how they can live. The Royals The nobles are aristocrats that defend the nation of Radredol against the anarchist air pirates that are seen as terrorists in the eyes of most the population. They cling to and defend with honor the people and nation they see as there birthright. The air pirates The air pirates are the warn down oppressed that are fighting for freedom against the cruel family’s born to indulgence and pleasure. They honor the name Bartholomew Rainwater as the messiah that inspired the age of rebellion Introduction This is a game of mech combat in a science fantasy setting of battle and ambition. Of pirates a

                1 twisted from all normalcy, when sanity turned tender. I want you to stay with me while the world turns to cinders!                     2       Kindness I did not deserve, To sad to romanticize. “There is nothing left to learn” to tender for you to criticize.                      3   But yet my revelation Sang out on judgment day. So this is my delusion, The beast that fears is name!                      4 Because this light is not mine, this faith is everything I bring. Remember me when it is time for hell's inhabitants to sing                                      5 "I hear the sound of riot, These days I choose to reminisce. Death will not come so quiet Before my inner abyss.”  

Words have power when not left alone. Meaning is sung when the kingdom is shown. What have you to say between each verse. The silence is sung after the scream of a curse. I hope you learn to forgive the dues you have paid. As debts are forgot and with love forgave. Not all should be said and none with regrets. For even in suffering still we are blessed. The sentiment of truth bears the fruits of decline. But even in decline there is ore in the mine. In the darkest of nights stars shine in your eyes. Even the light in the eyes of the blind. Even love in the act of a crime. Even a broken spirit has it's place in these times.

    The war had not been kind to Felix Frost. He had chosen the losing side. Now he wandered through the woods hungry and alone.   Trees branches hindered any progress. The darkness of the forest provoked him to fear. While doubt burdened his faith. A cross he wore around his neck felt like an anchor dragging him down. Yet Felix would not reject his fate.   Hunger has a way of telling you who you are. A way of isolating one's character to one extreme or the other.   This hunger made the former soldier like the walking dead. As if all the lives he had taken had followed him after every step. It wasn't guilt. Felix Felt as if he has done nothing but what was right. But the dead have their ways.   His conviction was a curse, and he wore his old grey coat knowing it was a death sentence. He survived from the water of streams. He drank deep long gulps but his spirit was broken. whether he knew it or not he was getting ready to die.   The smoke from the chimney