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Wednesday, January 31, 2024

Tried Hard Not to Rhyme

How this
all happened
for me.
Yes, there were
those moments before
but that day I quit
my job and came home to find
a tour date by the music site I
listened to all the time
and although there were dates
closer than the 4th
two months away
I just knew
It had to be
September in Tennessee.

Those 60 days of Summer's Cinders
searing passion, strumming fingers
sultry tambre, enchanted voicings.
burned I through years of albums
listened to you as I slumbered
'til I answered all your dreamings

Started solo sans mine' gat0
dawnlight encountered Georgia's mountains
Felt momentum drive me further
Listens to you getting harder
not to crash against the boulders
shredding tyres 'gan to falter
determined to make it home and all for
Marissa Nadler in September

I said it elsewhere in text and falter
got to town and bought a folder
pens and markers then worked harder
met some locals who wondered after
why I'd come to such a town
-- already knew I'd make it home
They thought sunshine sounded wetter
I just laughed, 'cause I knew better

'least an hour earlier than entry
forces worked evil 'gainst me
shown the blinding outer doorway
to eyes of brown that drew me to them
Shy, you were, seemed interested
heard my voyages well recounted
shared a smoke and kept your standing
fell hard for you then: worth restating

You see, my love, I never could be
free of you and still feel free
to love the life of ever could be
and those eyes to never 'gain see.
To all of our future Septembers:
pillow waking from happy slumbers
keep the trouble boats far from shore
mending fences 'n shutting old doors
It really ought to be Justice:
You and I, alone, : together.
Well, my Love, what's Your answer?

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Tuesday, January 30, 2024

[Art][Red Sisters Series]

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

[Art][Red Sisters Series]

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

Monday, January 29, 2024

[Music][Instrument Showcase]

I best like the 2nd and 4th instruments demonstrated.

Saz and Baglama Video

My father had one like the 3rd demonstrated; he couldn't really play it, but a friend of his could, and it was rather nice to hear.  I grew up with that one on the wall and always wondered how to play it.

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All rights Reserved Worldswide

Li'l bit'o'[Life]

Yesterday, with the sense that my hard-earned weekend would be over with narry anything to distinguish it from my weekdays, I walked in the sleet.  I reached the place, ogled what I liked, and formed a plan to scandalously spend illicit funds on ice cream.  Illicit in the sense that they had been earmarked for other expenses, but in that moment of naughtiness, I found great solace in my selections:

     * A five-scoop cup of pistachio and strawberry; delicious and highly recommended

     * A coffee-Oreo frappe

     * A slice of coffee cake

My walk home was fun and chilly.

Nearer eleven than ten, hours later, I stood outside and pled with my foreign delivery driver to find my home address; more sleet and wind as I awaited my Burger King delivery in the dark.  His eventual arrival and laconic attitude grated on me enough that I was not pleasant with the lad.  I went my way into my hole and behind locked doors, pried my hard-fought treasure of sandwiches from the bag.  An Original Chicken Sandwich, highly doctored with sauces and shakables-later, I was again mollified and able to put in a few more hours of my-work.  I have my burger for today's on-the-clock pre-lunch.

Its not a hard life, but one whose sense of meaning is constantly tested not in the little bumps in the road, but in the absence of a riding partner to pick the tunes.

Thinking of
It's You, Love
Always: You

Sunday, January 28, 2024

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldswide

[Music][DCD] Jaguar Chases Birds, Catches, Bites the Moon; Whiskers Wetted in the Pool; The Moon Still Smiles

Song of the Stars
Dead Can Dance

Indus, is pretty, too.
The feeling I get starting about [6:00 and specifically{6:42}] is like being liberated from my fleshly prison to return to the light.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Sight for Sore Eyes

Saturday, January 27, 2024

Back-off, Man
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide


Thursday, after working my 8-hour shift, I got home and went to bed, slept perhaps 2 hours and then rose to start my day.  I worked 17 hours and was a bit fried by it and am now on my weekend-mend.  Chinese food today, and possibly wings tomorrow.

All the snow has been rain-melt and no snow in forecast.

Paid February's rent to my landlady in Armenia; the upstairs refrigerator is set too high, and perhaps her other long-term renter, keeps bringing it up to food-unsafe temperatures -- I've had food spoil in it; which is a bummer.

When I wasn't looking, someone shook my carbonated water drink at the weekly lunch, and my Supervisor was the only one to say anything, and that was, 'don't mean to laugh at you, but these sorts of things keep seeming to happen to you' -- the other things being stepping barefoot on a bee and still going to my second day of training only to fall and break my nose that same day.  Hilarious; real empathy bank, she.

He's in the section I'm writing today:

Okay, Love, I'll talk to you later,

[Art][Fantasy Gaming]

Market Crew
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

I figure these folks work both sides of the equation: stall-keeps and pick-pockets (the two in the rear), and who doesn't like a cute animal trick, right?  Set up as the Constable of the otherwise unregulated trade area, the armoured guy is loosely 'in charge' but I think the blue tabard woman is at least his partner in responsibility if not the brains of the operation -- silent partner sort of thing.  So, who is the short white-haired gal's deal?

Tell us in comments.

Thursday, January 25, 2024

[Art][Green Ruins & Shallow Blues]

Image and Text (c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

This is Dark Daughter High Priestess Ynnella Nihal Irehnlaren, 28,000 BCE, Reina of All Wlvandra, Human Resistance Leader against Draconic Oppression.

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

[Art][Green Ruins & Shallow Blues]

Trandafira Östmurla and her falx
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, January 24, 2024

Coir Mistress and Red Sister
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

...with that beautiful strand hanging down

Hey, Babe, another one

Nothing earthshatteringly important except to say that I may have made a new Marissa Nadler fan of my Lyft driver.  He had been playing Indilo, but I asked if he wouldn't mind looking you up and he obliged.  Four songs in, and I think he had added you to his Spotify list.

All off Songs III: Bird On The Water
Diamond Heart
Bird on Your Grave
Dying Breed
Mexican Summer
Famous Blue Raincoat

He noticed how well I know your lyrics.

I wrote another set of lyrics, but they are too risqué to post without your approval, so it gets added to the Autumn Tree album.

Its snowing lightly.


Monday, January 22, 2024

Dina IV

Dina Irehn Marcher, Aged 32
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

Dina III

Dina Irehn Marcher, Aged 23
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All rights Reserved

Dina II

Dina Irehn Marcher, Aged 18
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

[Art][Fiction][Yada-Yada][Book II] Dina Irehn Marcher

Green Ruins & Shallow Blues
Image and Text (c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All rights Reserved

Half an hour later, if not more, Dina arrived, hair up, a pencil used in the twist of it.  She, perhaps all of five foot, held tight her books to her chest and peered over her simple wireframe glasses.  Her pale sandy-tan skin, silver-grey hair, and ice-kissed tawny eyes were stunning; she already had so many girls fawn after her, and yet, from all reports, she longed to be around men -- the Sisterhood was no place for this dusky jewel.

Aged 14

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldswide

Sunday, January 21, 2024

[Music][Yes] Tales From Topographic Oceans

Tales from Topographic Oceans

[Music][Fields of the Nephilim]

I had started with Dawnrazor, and then moved on to The Nephilim, only to discover that, chronologically within the fiction of the world depicted in the two albums, Dawnrazor if the sequel -- although the earlier album... and you folks wonder why my writing is all over the places.  ;)

The Nephilim
Fields of the Nephilim

Water Is Life
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

[Music][JT] Sunday Special

A Passion Play
Jethro Tull

Saturday, January 20, 2024

Marissa, may I suggest, a title for the song you demoed?

'Goodbye Satellite'

[Music][JT] Adolescent Memories: Stormwatch/Heavy Horses Double-Album

Although HH is older, the apocalyptic themes of Stormwatch made the more rural sounds of Horses seem the consequence of the world its surviours enjoyed.  I invite you to listen with that in mind.

Heavy Horses
Jethro Tull

Idle hands...

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

[Music][JT] SFTW

Lusty days which drove me mad were further fuelled by this album.
My first boyfriends were also many of my male friends, and we listened together and got horny together.
Enjoy.  ;)

Songs From The Wood
Jethro Tull

[Music][JT] AMitG

A Minstrel in the Gallery
Jethro Tull

Regent and Queen
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Friday, January 19, 2024

William Woodhawk Memorial

They arose from a shadow cast by a great tree with silvered green leaves.  At their appearance, a wind stirred up, and the sound through the foliage was of a hushed crowd in sudden and sporadic whisper.  Aylvryqh, caught in the foreign majesty of the somehow familiar tree's beauty was then most rudely taken away by her outstretched arm's point.  The Silver Sorcerer peered with his metallic pink eyes at a group of solemn attendees.  A green carpet, not grass, had been lain and upon it all who were present wore black.  A lovely silver-haired woman of strong, noble spirit, wept quietly, buoyed by friends on either side; she had a quick smile, and could easily bring to mind the very best times with her departed love.  For this was unmistakably a funerary service.  The current speaker eulogised the dead -- man from what Aylvryqh could discern -- the local dialect a near relative to his Aynglysh tongue.

"She is rather remarkable; bore up under a very long decline with such effusive joviality despite her private storm of misery and sadness.  These sorts of prolonged deaths -- so...," the alien woman seemed at a loss, her uncharacteristic emotion, her words choked, underlined what she thought of the couple and their work, "noble an agony.  Admirable, she."

Aylvryqh always preferred Lthrus when she was silent; -- it was the rare creature which made him feel human in comparison to her mechanistic organy.  His sneer must had been apparent upon his skin of paperwhite, as the graphite-hematite skinned woman mummed.  She moved closer, although still near the river vegetation as cover.  The eerily twilit ceremony only brought mild irritation to her skin -- her species' engineered-weakness would had immolated any of her kinfolk at even one stellar photon alight.

A man, with stylised facial hair and dark, thick rimmed glasses now spoke, promised to keep to a brief speech.  He made note of first encounters of Woodhawk's writings, of the demon-blessed swordsman's earliest adventures across the ruined landscape of the First Empires, as the cursed blade which wielded him spread the tyranny of riot and madness across those incalculably ancient lands.  He spoke of Zarozhenit and Aurien Twinblade, Aylvryqh's companions --

Aylvryqh stifled a curse,
-- $"What manner of doom is this, cinderwitch?!"$

Lthrus X'a turned, her luminous lime green eyes like lurid coals in her shadowed orbits,
"It is as when thou hadst thine Otherselves met in crisis, Jaren Israe, and the Bronzen Count, at the Urgnomen of Blackfell, or as when Erren Tra of Olde Maska when Leer Jagger sought to summon Sionbrragh Herself to Iminos -- the Alignment --"

He impatiently waved her off; could had struck her for how those terrible events had unfolded, the losses suffered -- his pain -- his pain...
-- "You would do well not to try me further with your overshadowed wisdoms, woman; your entire oeuvre is banal and yet, loathsome for its paucity.  I am, -- my life has more meaning than mere sketches of my history -- the things I have done," he, now, choked on his words.  In their silence, a new speaker's delivery of happy remembrances was made in a twang of the East Drylands Doych.

--- 'Will, he always had me call him Will, with two, L's mind ya', amirite Lydia?'  She nodded, cried and wiped away new tears, 'had a bet with me that before he passed, I would become more famous for my chili recipe than he for his entire Aylvryqh Cycle; what a cutup, our ole' Will.  Well, buddy, that day will never come; hat's off to you ole' pal, pard.'

"A mincemeat stew with optional legumes--" Lthrus could feel those almost red eyes bore into the back of her head.
-- "Why have you brought me to this -- scrying sage's farewell?  Have I not suffered enough of your mocking ways, brigand of reveries?"

Lthrus smiled; the play of westered sunlight upon the beauteous curves of her marble-smooth granite skin shone like hellsfire trapped in crystal.  There was pain there, his barb had found a home, but she -- this thing which was a she -- must had found a way to consume the like as a liquor; so enrapt was she with its sting.
"Oh, Champion...  If only you could recall all the times we have spoken, made love, and parted; ha!"

Aylvryqh's eyes flit to the congregation in ode; the widow alone looked in their direction, but was distracted by a friend on her right.
-- $"Quiet, hellspawn, care ye not at all for the mourners?"$

She turned fully to face him, those ghastly orbs of lichen fire pressed back; he felt her inhuman mind, and that abhorrent Thing behind it,
"Champion...  I had brought you here to see that you yet live; your reality is unshaken despite your chronicler's demise -- you, You, in truth, are a worthy one -- and this, my homage, not only to him," she cast her glance in the direction of the coppery urn, "but to you, his most favoured and beloved of all subjects -- rather, topics, oh Scarlet King."

Something about that last epithet rang with another woman's voice; and like the sound of a great bell in unfathomed deeps, it shuddered his entire being.  He nodded, almost apologised, but respected her enough not to try.  Vidkelph knew that they, in many ways, were alike; and that made her utter outré being that much worser for it all.
-- " I would leave them to --"

Her upheld left hand stayed him.
Lydia, Woodhawk's widow, spoke her final goodbyes as she cast his ashes upon the lazy green waters of William's beloved river.  Her farewell was smooth, and her strength impeccable in Lthrus' ears.

The silence was long lasted and saw even the sun's set behind sad and bent trees with great shaggy boughs of tearlike leaves.  Lights, pale yellow and blue-white, began to cut the evening gloom fast come upon the shore.  Lydia lingered, and would had stayed longer, but was ushered off by loved ones and the like.  She, this noble woman, once more looked in their direction, smiled in sadness and cheeks wet anew, and nodded as she was led away, arm in arm.

Aylvryqh had dust in his eyes and battered his lids to flush it out.  He turned away and waited as the Dryvv woman glid to where the mourners had gathered.  She found a red rose and she lifted it up.  Lthrus pressed a thorn of its stalk into her middle finger's pad, and its petals drained of all colour.  With a sad smile, and silvery tears went down her inhuman face, she placed the white flower upon a raft of felled palm fibre.  Sent on its way after the man's ashes, -- river run.

In Nomine

(c) Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

Thursday, January 18, 2024

Eyes of Flame
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldswide
Click Image to Enlarge


Four You


Move these around
just as you please
I lead by 4th finger,
hey, that's just me

The lowest I go is
4G, 3B, 2D, 1F#
and no higher than
4D, 3F#, 2A, 1C#
I trust you to amble
deftly 'bout the strings

I call them quadrads
don't know their real name
like rythym guitar
it may sound the same

These are all downstrokes
just strumming with ease
almost a flick
from lefty #1-sies

Yes, for a while I
had a pick' method
3rd string, & 1st string
Thumbed the low E

But then something happened;
and that all fell away:
nothing to anchor my
learning, or better my ways

There's a third style:
I've sent it by dream.
I hope that you've heard it,
not driven insane

Can't reveal it;
It's part of that song
I'll only play for you
when we're alone

That's it for now, Love
planning my day
office dining
bonds to maintain

Just know this, Darling
You are the centre
around which I spin
get me through eve'nings

With you in my heart
And when I'm strong
enough, or just try,
I give you a listen
with glistening eyes.

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Wednesday, January 17, 2024

On the Lookout
(c)  2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldswide


Check It Out

Low on the neck
Frets one two three
Like a D Major but free

All of the blue notes
green notes and yella'
occasionally vi'let n'
that magenta fella'

'Til the cross-over
of red and the blue
nestled together
tween yellows n' greens

I climb on higher
as far as she goes
up the unnumbered
dotless plateaus

Then back down the neck
In sad minor tones
crossing the switchback
curveball that it throws

Fret two, fret four, fret six
then fiddle around
with the switchback again
My signature sound

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

[** ALERT **][life][Ugh...] Flooded out

I am in the process of fleeing my feces-filled basement room for a room on the second floor.  My landlady, who is presently in Armenia, is strongly hinting that this situation is the prelude to my finding another place.  The only upside is that I haven't yet paid for February.
I have no place to go, and no prospects. 

Tuesday, January 16, 2024

Manifest Destination

However dark those woods appear
Undying blossom, life puts forth shoots
tender, becomes an oak
supine beneath its sheltering arms

Manifest dream become flesh
girl with such fiery life as this
Wandered timeworn I sought
strangers I'd found, -- useless
distractions; all proof I'd yet
-- to find You

I long for that portal, opening
when we no longer have to live
by hope alone
find better uses
for tears, enjoined
Higher, and higher
Higher, and higher
it grows
in You

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Monday, January 15, 2024

Sunday, January 14, 2024

Not really set-up to do watercolours or gouache (which my sister gifted me with when I moved out), but here's where my mind is at:

Love you, Babe,

Sword and Spell
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Saturday, January 13, 2024

[Art] LINK

Facebook LINK

[Text][Fiction][Excerpt][GR&SB] The Commissar & The Sister

Excerpted from:
Green Ruins & Shallow Blues:
Book II: FRUITFUL Chapter 35: Bloodlines 
(c) 2023-2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

The door opened and a bruised blonde in a blood spattered red cape and a greasy apron walked in, a dark leather case of a bag in her twisted and gnarled right fist.  She looked down at the Commissar's victim, looked to the guard who remained, and she walked inside.  The guard then exited.  Devyn looked to her, reached out for her help.  She regarded him, and then stepped over him to the bed, straightened the covers and pointed at it.  Devyn snorted, looked down, sighed, and looked up.  She wore a smile, soft, almost sweet; she cocked her head in the bed's direction.  The Commissar struggled to the bed's frame, tried to pull himself up.  She stepped, pressed lightly upon that hand.  The woman in red then made a push-up gesture; her smile now through somewhat narrowed eyes.  Devyn snorted and smiled, oh, she's like that, huh?  He thought of Avrhon and some of their games together.  Devyn struggled to push himself to a crouch; he knew better than to look to the woman.  The Commissar spat and strained, his vision grew bleary and he thought that he would pass out.  He managed to rise to a crouched, stooped position; things had torn in torsion, likely material seared onto his flesh had been pulled free.  He felt blood or other fluids trickle down.  With more spit and hard breathed grunts, Qomz-Beecher forced himself upright, or some facsimile thereof.  The red-cloaked woman then neared and removed his suit.  When the zip stopped and she could not force it; Devyn's hands on her shoulders -- one was knobby and he could feel a bone shard penetrated her skin; a foul scent emanated from her wound; she withdrew a slender piece of glass, and cut away at the synthetic fabric until she had undressed him.  She smiled, nodded to the bed.  He wanted to simply flop onto it, but for some reason, he felt he owed her the respect to continue her high standards for his comportment, and to that end Devyn bent over and placed his hands, shaking arms, onto the cover and lowered himself as surely and slowly, precisely as able.  Her expression was one of examination; his movements meant something to her, and her twisted fingers, calloused and jagged nailed, softly, so very softly traced over his burnt and blistered, red to pink skin.  She pushed him down to the bed, and then knelt as she examined his fused boot.  Devyn, Qomz-Beecher, the Commissar, felt better, although he ached, -- was in a sort of absent agony: as if a diagnostic board had lit up in flickered lights of warnings, indications of systems glitches, and indications for suggested courses of corrective action.  He wondered if she exerted some sort of psychic control, or if it were simply her most unorthodox bedside manner.  As she worked, she changed her grip on him and occasionally, her hair would caress the inside of his thigh.  He reacted naturally; was glad that still functioned; was impressed with himself.  His member now seemed to throb in time with sone unfathomable sensation -- ah, his foot.  She looked at his face, noticed his member and smiled appreciatively, and then handed him the boot.  He took it and wondered how the charred ankle and lower shin of his foot could be in the boot while he looked at it so calmly.  She stood and without malice, a slight hesitation to convey the latter, she punched him.  Everything went black.


Maybelle licked him awake.  Devyn smiled, laughed, patted the bed, and like the good girl she was, she jumped up, her tail awag, and flopped on her side, leg up.  Devyn smiled, laughed, patted her belly, closer and closer to her privates; her tail wagged harder and her leg kicked.  The woman in red moaned and sat up, her hair clean and nicely styled.  She smiled, leaned and patted Maybelle's rump and thigh, then leaned in.  She looked longingly, searchingly into his eyes.  She looked adamant to give him a kiss, took his head in both her hands and pressed hard her lips to his.  He gasped at her forcefulness.  It took away his breath.  He began to choke.  She pulled away, lifted his lids of each eye in turn.  The older guard was there now.  Grabbed her hair, yanked her up.  She pointed to Devyn and moaned a few guttural wordlikes and he then threw her head down, and stepped back.  She pointed to something Devyn couldn't see.  He threw the bag onto Devyn's abdomen.  The Com...  Devyn barely felt it; -- more like a shove.  She produced a hand bellows and grunted to the man.  He roughly held Devyn's head flatter, arched his neck and peered unfeelingly into his eyes.  The older guard's eyes then moved to her, and he nodded.  He pinched-closed Devyn's nose.  Smiled, the smile softened somewhat; he nodded at him.  Devyn's world dimmed and shrank within a circle whose diameter narrowed with each second's passage.  He convulsed in regular pulsations and as he resigned himself to restful sleep...

Devyn woke with the smell of a woman's scalp in his nostrils.  The blonde hair had the relaxed curl of the woman who had healed him; saved his life.  He wanted to hold her, to feel he had let her know he appreciated it, but instead immediately upon receipt of his being alive, went back to sleep.

He was shoved awake.  She, the healer, the Red Sister, looked at him -- somehow, her face was less damaged, even if only slightly.  He felt almost human.  She mouthed words and moaned them to aid in his understanding, but she also moved his fingers with each.  She left the bed and put on the apron over her nude form, and then threw on the hooded cape, tied it off, just before the door opened.  The older guard looked at Devyn without emotion and then gestured to her to accompany him.  Devyn sat up,  she pushed his shoulder to indicate bed rest, and took the man's hand.  The older guard looked back with something like a sneer and a look of congratulations -- however begrudged.  The door closed behind them.  Devyn looked under the relatively clean sheet at his pink body.  The burns were now localised to coin-sized marks of puckered red-pink.  He also looked at the large wet stain on the bedding.  He wondered at that the most.  Had she, had they?  What had she said to him?  Devyn -- the Commissar closed his eyes and remembered; recalled her mouth's formation, each moan which accompanied them.


[Art][Red Sisters Series]

A Day's Delicate Toil
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

While the life of the Red Sisters is completely voluntary in the joining, once the Red Orders are taken, the Oathen is already so altered by the process of experiencing Informed Empathy that to renounce is so unimaginable as to be whispered rumour only.  These women, likely returned from treating victims of political violence, are both medical and psychological specialists, while the sister in the rear, in bronze over white, is in Proof Sanction while she recovers from her tremendous empathic transfer wounds.  Her face became distorted as she took-on the damage of those she healed, and the white vestment she wears under the bronze vest is used to numb her from the terrible trauma she had absorbed in the transmutative process.  She ambles behind the active members on their way back to a Red Tower, an allied Slayers' Keep, or whatever travel shelter they can find to get her out of the elements.

Friday, January 12, 2024

Simple Truth

I still don't know
how you do it;
this alone should be the proof
how much better
you are at it
than I could ever do.

See, Love, my structured
mind is on rails
and it takes me where
I want to go:
Sometimes with lovely pictures
or simply blood spattered snow.
I can picture scenes in
motion and I can smell the scents
but when it comes to
writing them down
in song your elusive spell,
like alchemy...well, my efforts
are but lead to your gold.

Such simple phrases pleasure
in my hearing, your words ring.
The cleverness of unexpected
turns of phrase and rhyme-break
sucked me in.
...and well, I hold you in such
high esteem, not by hypotheticals,
but years and hundreds of songs
which you have lovely sung.

[] Your beauty you may style
[] Your playing practised for long hours
[] Your voice developed with much skill
But all that wordplay and emotive force
that's inborn gift, my

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Wednesday, January 10, 2024

Noble Beast
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldswide

I love this one so much, too



Woman, pale;
strong and noble bearing;
Mediterranean, and Jewish,
with long black hair,
and eyes like flames.

Dressed in black.
Pink and blue lights
awash across her face.
Composed, calm, and
yet, as she begins,
the look of pain,
and strength,
remain in balance,

Her 12 string, white,
played with her right,
though Southpaw
all the way.
She'll tell you it was
different then,
the resources not the same
those days;
-- and yet, she, -- this girl
can play!

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Tuesday, January 9, 2024

Just some [Art] The World of the Future

Boston's Chinatown 2124

It Will Be Alright
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Sunday, January 7, 2024

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

I've Got Your 6
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

30 Years Ago
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis

[Art][AULDGORY] Harley House

Harley House, Wide Roaming Lands, AULDGORY
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

Saturday, January 6, 2024

Citrine in Fire Opal in Amber

Friday, January 5, 2024

Heart to Heart
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Ford On

[Music] Jethro Tull

Bursting Out
Jethro Tull Live 1978

Yes, it's a Statuesette ;)


Thursday, January 4, 2024

[Music] Klause Schultze Seth Sequence (Parts 1-7) from Deus Arrakis 2022


C'mon Love
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Wednesday, January 3, 2024

Unbreakable Bond
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Come Away With Me
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Tuesday, January 2, 2024


Witch Hazel
(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Monday, January 1, 2024

(c) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Look at this handsome fellow (photo of a photo)

My son, Daniel