Keep That Pack On, Son. - A poem of the Streets.

Part of being on the streets,
is accepting the darkness of souls.
Not just of others, but yourself too.
Such is not easy, nor truly safe.
A person who gazes upon darkness
without the safety of distance
too oft finds themselves embracing such.

This is true of all, even me.
Here on the streets, my prejudices rise.
Allergies explain just a bit of it,
leading to my disdain for drug addicts,
even as I feed my own dependence
on coffee, colas, and nicotine.
Things I view as far safer.

That gloom that lies on the Homeless,
much of it is fed from without,
but nearly as much rises inside you
as you begin to doubt yourself,
your skills, your beliefs, and lose the way
that you have walked for so long.
The demons of the street are many.

Have I been tempted to crime?
Yes.
But I steer clear of most of it,
save the occasional early morning jaywalk,
to reach a restroom before suffering
the indignity of a public relief.
And other things call too.

Here is a thought, though, for fools
who mock those who walk the streets.
You are but one mistake from joining us.
And we, each of us, but one right decision
from being heroes to someone.
Like that kid this morning I passed,
under my full load of packs.

He took back his own from his dad,
and said rather proudly and loudly...
"he's got more, and still goes on, Dad.
So I should carry mine too."
Left a smile on my face.
Put a pep in my stride, beyond pride.
I had to hold up my end.

Which is what Life is really about.
9 June 2014 - A humbled Dyfedd Rex.

Wrestling with Characters

A continual bane of my writing life is that I have characters who are used to getting their way, unless I am in a really crappy mood and run them through the wringer of heartbreak and written pain. They walk up to where ever I have set up to write, and talk about any damned tale they wish to. Rarely the one I am working on.

This makes me one hell of a slow writer. Often forced to use the above tortures on characters, then edit them out as I go to get them back on track. Unfortunately, my characters, I have learned, tend to exaggerate if not outright lie, about events in their life. Keeping that from floating through is even a bigger pain.

So, while I may not do a daily story, chapter or whatever, at least I give it a good shot on what is working. Characters permitting.

Speaking of characters... Billenius just sat down, but I do not have the time to make him a cup of tea, gotta pack up for the early evening, then beat him down later for another fib and big omission he pulled a while back.

The Lost One that Rains.

As the clouds gathered over the mountains
to lay down their sorrowful burdens as snow
on lone cloud missed the train of the wind
and drifted along the valley's seam south instead
like a lost sheep who lost the flock of fleecy ones
and wandered off crying his tears on the lowlands
between the rocky spines of ridges and peaks
as rain falls in its shadows until it is cried out,
giving life to those below in its death.
But north again, over the inland sea
that spawned him, he will be reborn
with the North Wind's next rising,
and maybe he will get it right this time.

　

A gem of a find in Cheyenne

A Gem of a find...

So I found the bus depot at last in Cheyenne, only to discover the bus would not leave until Three, (yes, 3!) A.M. This at about 5 in the afternoon. That left time to kill and recover some mobility, as just sitting for a few moments had locked up my legs tighter than still flowered maiden...

So there I was, sore as heck from hauling around two heavy packs all over town as said before. Walking had to be done, but it made me want to scream as I tried to work it out after the cab ride, and arranging the bus ride to SLC, a decision made by not having enough to go to Reno or Vegas and still have anything to gamble against whoever has been messing with my life of late.

And there, where once lived a larger resturaunt than now there, was a blast from the past. A board and RPG playing game store. Not just the kind's now made to try luring the kids out of those addictive video games that do not teach them the things that you learn over a table, with the other people there, so you can soak up the adoration, or be pelted by the dirty looks of those who have learned in the quick the meanings of Hate and jealousy.

This store, and for a change, as this guy is just starting up, is called Cyborgs, Puzzles and Games. I know, I say I won't reveal things like that, but heck, its starting up when the economy is still staggering around like a bad extra actor in a drinking scene from a Mel Brooks spoof movie. I admmunmire that kind of determination, and the owner showed a great deal of salesmanship, but I was safely by way of being broke. I still bought the sodas I needed to stay awake from him, as we talked away.

Its Owner, Marshall, waved me in as he saw me reading over his signage with the look of a man who knew games. Yeah, I grew up on RPG's, not the wimpy electronic ones, but the real things. Toon, Car Wars with our characters moving on in the original rules, several other board games of strategy over the years, and of course, the ongoing games of D&D we ran for a decade, and a bit more even. He had high end puzzles made with superior craftsmanship and imported from Europe, as American manufacturers had not made any he could pass along to his core crowd, and you have to keep the main audience, even if expanding the old. Marshall spoke of the difficulties, how things were tough, but he still had hopes. I do too. This guy, in the face of the downturn, and the unceratain hiccups yet to come that could eat his dream up in a roller wave of earth or sea, to be sacrificed to save the big box stores.

Yet he is staring it down, and doing the fight. Not without his trials, but he is giving it a try, something fewer and fewer folk tend to do in a tight resources situation. We tend to sit on it, not swing it wide asa credit score lasso to find a steer that has wandered off.


So if you are out there, in the Cheyenne area, up off I-25 and Central exit, and are a gamer, give him a try, he has gaming tables set up in there, and a great selection of newer and older strategy games there, you can even go in and play one first, if he has a demo version available at the time. Think about that, he offers up the trial of the games, just like at an auto dealer, lets see the big boys do that with more than demo versions of the electric games.

And that is me violating my own rule, but I enjoyed the conversation, even amidst the pains of my week from Hell.