I'd say this cannot be happening...

...but I'm not that naive. Yes, my computer is dead, again. I wasn't going to write about it since I'm afraid people will think I'm cursed or something, but the frustration got to be too much. The gods must truly hate me, which yeah is understandable since I don't worship any of them, but still... Did the techno stuff really have to give up on me completely? I'm sitting by another computer right now, but it's not mine, doesn't have my stuff on it. This is pain people, you have no idea.

Wanderer

When the memories of dewdrops

are so short as to be overlooked

between a fallen tear

and an autumn leaf,

how do we judge time?

My old ways have changed,

but the new still go as newly born

and gentle fairies,

striking gold in the oddest

of circumstance and time.

Happy to be here though the Mara

still and always laughs joyfully

in offering reprieves.

It is the nature of night to be contrary.

It is the blessing of life and of time.

When the dark droplets fall unguarded

the ways of thunder feel more like home

again, I am leaving with the shifting tide.

Again I am tickled with the promise

of time.

Troubled Dreams, Love -poem

A poem of regret, bittersweet peace, and the haunting memories of war.

Troubled Dreams, Love

I'm falling much too deep my love.
Can see no end, no morrow.
Everything I live for love,
is turned to sweetest sorrow.

When all you have and all you hold
is turned to dust for dead men's gold,
the truth is furthest from your mind.
You try to leave all things behind.

Been falling for a while my love.
Can't seem to get to flying.
They say the light is there my love,
but still -it feels like dying.

When all you have and all you hold
's been twisted, warped, and then resold,
the lies they tell are laying bare,
but you don't mind, no you don't care.

Can see this journey's end my love.
I've kept my coin for paying.
They don't deal in faith my love.
There is no use in praying.

But pray you may and pray you might
and maybe things can be made right,
and I'll open weary eyes once more
to even out the players' score.

There you are my life, my love.
Please go back to sleep.
There are no demons here my love.
If you don't look, too deep.

10 Things I Will Never Do Again

Prompt from YaNowWhatIMean

• Dive in the shallow end of the pool. It's just not worth the headache.
• Go backpacking with my parents, I don't care how cheap it is.
• Believe anyone who says you can just grab a cab out of the harbor. If the harbor is abandoned and you have no phone number to call, there will not be a taxi magically waiting for you as you disembark.
• Ever, ever, ever live in a hotel room numbered 13 again. There is not believing in superstition and then there's sheer stupidity.
• Walk alone in a city I know is full of horny southerners who have no decorum whatsoever. Liberation of women or not, some things are just bound to cause more trouble than they're worth. All right, so I may not be able to keep that one, but it's a good thought.
• Walk through the junky section of town alone, in the dead of night, just cause it's the most direct route to my friend. Brave or not; dead is still dead.
• Fall for the "I'm so helpless and scared, please help me" routine, I really should know better.
• Tell someone I love them and expect them to understand I mean it in a general sense, not a romantic one.
• Spend hours in excruciating pain without going to the hospital, just because I don't want to waste the doctors' time. The doctors are there to alleviate pain, I should learn to just let them do their freakin' job already.
• Say yes to shallow acquaintances without knowing all the details of what they want me to do. People who look nice, aren't necessarily so.

So Many Ways to Say It - poem

Old poem, but dear. A poem about love and eternal loving.

Beloved, did you know 

that you’re my beloved?

The sun and moon may shine 

or be hidden in darkness,

but as long as there is you; 

the light will always be near.

To chase away the shadows,

to block the way for monsters.

How very strange really, 

don’t you think?

-That life can be dependent 

on such a small thing,

like the smile of a friend…

a word or two

about the love and joy you 

find in each other.

The wisdom that your soul carries, 

it amazes me constantly.

And if I travel the world 

or to the other side of the universe,

or if I stay right here

 -it’s all the same.

Because you’re with me 

in every move I make,

are there in every breath I take,

like a guardian angel.

And no matter what happens, 

I know

that you are here 

and you are mine.

As surely as I am yours,

now and forever.

Left -short short story

They write notes to each other on post-its, until they run out of paper one day and they start to scrawl on the fridge instead. Black and red and blue all mingled together till the white is all but a memory. He doesn't remember who started it, might have been him. Probably wasn't. Two cups stand on the sink, side by side; one large for coffee, one gigantic for tea. The cups migrated out of the cupboards months ago, it was just too much work; opening and closing and reaching. His hands itch to break them both, but he doesn't. Instead he plucks out an ordinary glass and fills it with water. He takes one sip, then two, before throwing the rest away. Right now there would be a gentle reprimand concerning water conservation. The quiet screams in his ears and he flees the kitchen.

The living room is also much too quiet for comfort. His hands automatically go to the stereo and put the records on shuffle. Too late he remembers when they last listened to this particular mix. He can't bring himself to push the stop button though, not when the music starts with the soft gentleness of Adagio. His thoughts stutter to a halt and he listens with horror at the much too familiar words. The door bell chiming saves him from any more reminiscing and he takes money to pay for the pizza. The tip is plentiful, he just can't concentrate on something as petty as counting money right now. Five hours till the plane ride home, this isn't his place anymore. With a look at the empty hangers by the door he wonders if it ever was.

Masquerade

Play the show to its end,

it’s all we have to do.

Keep the masks on to hide

what we’re feeling inside.

It’s not me that is playing, it’s not you.

The audience is waiting

for another drama play.

They like the blood to flow

and teary eyes to glow.

It’s their world my love, it’s their way.

So play for me a murderer

and I will be your fool.

Let’s show them how it’s done

until their need is gone.

To gain we must suffer, it’s the rule.

For they live through the theatre

and need to know it’s real,

so play this well and get a boon.

Oh, hush love, it’s over soon.

Death’s our final pay, that’s the deal.