Tuesday, April 30, 2024
Monday, April 29, 2024
LUSH SISTER
Questing Beast
Verdant
peace along the stream
Along the vibrant banks
go I
Search, quest to find
o'rarest creature
starborn surefooted
fiend
Whose horns are dappled
with the tears and blood
of those foes released
I an errant,
blackguard true,
my order undone
my oath unsung
In probing darknesses
of mossy rocks unrolled,
go I, alone
Spelunking
dank humid caverns
created of roots so old
In search of her do I find
spoor, evidence of kills
unkind
Ever'yon by silver star
a winding path my way I find
I an errant,
blackguard true,
my order dashed to pieces,
my oath unfulfilled
Bones, like chimes, sound in
the vie'let night
stirred by breezes, gentle,
slight
hung with guts and twinkled
bright, like golden moons
and bitter spite
Quested Beast
of cloven hoofs so fleet
ever on the run it seems
Not yet been caught,
her gnawed-on bones
delivered sustenance
naught
Ever onward
she, too, quests,
ever-searching for her
partner
I an errant,
blackguard true,
my order undone
my oath unsung
Shall we in mortal wrestle meet
which the other of us beat
Or shall we in leaves bed sweet
our match in times
reflection see?
(C) 2024 LUSH SISTER
Lyrics: Kyrinn S. Eis
Music: We, Us, Together
Sunday, April 28, 2024
[Art] NOIRESQUE
Saturday, April 27, 2024
Excerpted from Green Ruins & Shallow Blues; Book II: Fruitful
(C) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis All Rights Reserved Worldwide
It was a moons-shadowed false dusk, and the play of the system star's light upon the oceanbay was twilit with the far eastern shore's city glitter. With the change in ambient light, the salt-kissed bora rustled the palm fronds and perfumed the cool air with sweet synthetic scents from half-dissolved resins' interaction with salt water. It was a beautiful scene, storybook in everyway.
Friday, April 26, 2024
While we are in this limbo, I have to try and learn some other way, and so I look around for instrumentalists who hit those notes I find enjoyable. I always loved your banjo playing, and while this is a fretless banjo, I thought that I would post it here.
When we finally do get together, I look forward to your showing me everything musical you have learnt, and even hope that together we can learn something new -- or come up with a combination which wouldn't otherwise have happened apart.
I love you Marissa
Have a good weekend,
-K
Hi,
I'm not sure if I have already shared this one, but I thought that you might also like it, Love.
-K
Thursday, April 25, 2024
Wednesday, April 24, 2024
Tuesday, April 23, 2024
[Life] Tidbit
Nothing major, just coming-out as a dice fetishist
LINK omg, these are soo pretty!
Shiny math rocks, indeed!
Monday, April 22, 2024
Sunday, April 21, 2024
I imagine which shampoo your hair is scented by
and how long it will take you to nod-off when the show
isn't one you care about, but know I do, and then, how
you'll frown a bit when I scoop you up to head off for
bed -- linens folding over your chosen tunes on a Sunday
before teatime and a painting lesson please.
Saturday, April 20, 2024
Friday, April 19, 2024
[Lyrics] [Elliott Smith]
Between the Bars
Drink up baby, stay up all night
With the things you could do
You won't but you might
The potential you'll be that you'll never see
The promises you'll only make
Drink up with me now
And forget all about the pressure of days
Do what I say and I'll make you okay
And drive them away
The images stuck in your head
People you've been before
That you don't want around anymore
That push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still
Drink up baby, look at the stars
I'll kiss you again, between the bars
Where I'm seeing you there with your hands in the air
Waiting to finally be caught
Drink up one more time, and I'll make you mine
Keep you apart, deep in my heart
Separate from the rest, where I like you the best
And keep the things you forgot
People you've been before
That you don't want around anymore
That push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Steven P. Smith
Between the Bars lyrics © Universal Music - Careers, Spent Bullets Music
Thursday, April 18, 2024
[Lyrics] Marissa...
WITHHELD
Kyrinn S. Eis
All Rights Reserved Worldswide
My darling, I would call you wife.
Believe me I cannot stand this, our
separation. I hold your life in
such great admiration, and my grief,
it sees no end in sight to our
separate lives.
Were it mine to give you my
body, mind, and property,
on the instant you alone would
inherit all that, living embodiment
of all that is me; that instant!
But it is from your lips, your spear
to my heart, my ears, which that
victory must flow, not mine, dear.
Please, I beg you dear, do not hold
me akin to those who sold you false
in days gone past, and left you
cold.
Would that I should rather die than
see my harm shed you by even one
tear. But you, come to me, dear,
for I have already mine life lain
cold on the floor before that red
door on that Friday in early March.
I would face dangers, even from
father and brother or mother anew
if but only you would come hither
up unto me now, and our eyes
entangle but renew in lust.
Whither art thou?
To thou hadst I been true;
Ever-true e'en unto death I've
sworn since that night swam
upon your shore; aurora's glow
in pink and hues of blue too great
for eyes such as mine to gaze at
You.
Please darling Marissa
Wednesday, April 17, 2024
Tuesday, April 16, 2024
Monday, April 15, 2024
[Art] [GR&SB]
Sunday, April 14, 2024
Saturday, April 13, 2024
Friday, April 12, 2024
Marissa,
I'm more or less moved in to the new place. I wish I could go with you to NY for the live premier of your singing High On A Rocky Ledge. I'm still not sure why you won't come to me, fetch me in Boston, and we'll be off, but hey, when it comes to you, lately, I'm clueless.
I still believe in an Us, that we matter not only to each other, but have something to offer to the world which would make it a better place...
OK, Miss.
-- I'll keep Whispering Pines on my playlist, but, I've Already Fallen for those Eyes of Sea Dark Wine.
my phone number is the same
my email is the same
i still belong to you -- alone
312
Awake
5 Hours sleep
Typical
New place
half-settled, must return
for my things not
taken in first go
Foodstuffs, mostly
Three share one fridge
The open closed ports
let in the breeze which
wafts down the street
and lets in ants attracted
to the heat and UV
glow crawl across
my screen and keys
below
I wonder after Other
nocturnal animal
beloved
Rain kissed streets
beneath me
aglow
Sequins Alight
Thursday, April 11, 2024
Wednesday, April 10, 2024
Tuesday, April 9, 2024
Monday, April 8, 2024
Sunday, April 7, 2024
I really like this guy's videos; makes me love this continent more. You may want to subscribe to learn more about foraging foods; remember my other long-term food storage video?
Even if we don't end-up together, I hope that you live a long, healthy life, and survive the danger of the Red/Green Wave which is coming upon this nation of ours.
Love you, Darling,
-K
Hi, Love,
I was doing my day's worth of shopping around for YouTube videos, and I stumbled upon this one.
I frequently watch videos at a higher playback speed, to fit more of them in, and to be honest, to speed through the largely boring parts of unnecessary repetition, unnecessary repetition ;).
So, I'm not sure if you know about the playback controls, but if you hover over the video, a set of icons appear. One is a gear-shaped doohicky, and if you select it with the mouse, you will see, among other choices, Playback Speed. If you select that, then try listening to this video at 1.25x. I find it still likeably listenable and it really changes the sense of the music's intent -- I like it in this more up-beat tempo, and find that other jazz-lounge music at this speed is more pleasant to my ears. May seem strange, I know...
I've been in two car-wrecking collisions as a driver, and in both, I could see the hood crumple-up like tinfoil; I can also see a pistol bullet leave a rifle barrel downrange, and other phenomena which place me in a fraction of the population when it comes to speed-processing and to a lesser degree (unfortunately) reaction-speed. Don't know why I'm telling you all this, but I thought you may find it interesting to know more about me while we are apart.
Love you, Sweetheart,
-Kyrinn
Saturday, April 6, 2024
[Fiction] [Excerpt] [Book II] AKELDAMA
Excerpted from GREEN RUINS & SHALLOW BLUES, BOOK II: FRUITFUL
(C) 2024 Kyrinn S. Eis All Rights Reserved Worldwide
---
>[[Codename: Avowed Testament]]
"Why have you come at this time to meet with us?"
Risette smoked a handrolled cigarette, hazeflower, smelt of burnt orange peel; returned thoughts of Klarissa, their seeming interminable separation while present in the same room -- or had been, roommates, -- interminable separation it had been.
-- "I have need of Akeldama."
Risette frowned nervously, it played across her features used to sour expressions, like a blaze of pain -- but Risette wasn't a shrinking violet when it came to suffering, Syil knew; knew her type; as if in a mirror, they -- not only in the looks department, but in what they had done with had been done to them... And in Syil's case, willingly -- braver, she?
"Cut through the koans, please; I'm endarkened -- AntiSatori -- Acosmic -- Anál nathrach, orth' bháis's bethad, do chél dénmha, and all that, luv. When does it need to be delivered and in what numbers of troops--"
-- "All of it, You and Your Crew; a starship without crew, only a crew without a starship -- how sad, really. I have the means to transport you all offworld--"
Risette laughed.
-- "As soon as you give the order, Madame President."
Risette threw caution to the wind and turned her whole head to face the passenger in the seat next to her,
"I ask the angel to wet the wool but not the grass about it."
Syil screwed-up her face,
-- "A test of some sort? Sounds almost Rexian."
Risette, her head turned again to face the beams from the lamps of the tunnel car as they sped the dark.
"Are you saying that -- Are you really-claiming to be an offworlder, a non-Terran?" Risette snorted, squinted at the delicious absurdity and the desire for its reality.
Syil showed her: The heat shimmer; desert sands; twin Statues; the Black Gate; an exodus of sorts; the dispossessed of black and blue redeemed in red.
When next she could see through her eyes, brilliant sunlight and the outskirts of the Black Gate's ever narrower approach sped into view. Risette almost applied the brakes, but instead let off on the accelerator. Around them, the faux-fossilised remains of giants, megafauna, and ancient anachronisms peeked from the blasted and hewn rock. The first shofar blast sounded and at that, Yannis softly applied the brakes; then at the second sounding, more forcefully, until they slowed on approach to the single surface entrance through the border. To the west, through the left window as they faced north, the waterway and border with Aegypt; over the city, to the east, the jointly patrolled border with Ysroel; ahead, the guards in their pillboxes manned gun emplacements and drones buzzed about as they scanned prospective entrants, both personnel, and cargo.
Syil casually watched Risette ignore the impact of the vision with aplomb and grace. This brought a warm and genuine smile to the older woman's creased and weathered face. She liked Risette very much.
"I wanted you to have the full experience; its good, too, for me to be seen by Prospectives. They learn later, if not already, who I am and see me among them; little seeds..." She again took-up the handrolled and used the coil lighter to ignite the burnt and essential oil stained end. Syil had developed a fondness for Terran hazeflower through Klarissa -- Klarissa, again...always Klarissa....
"More?"
Syil roused, smiled, nodded and took up the 'roach' and pinched it to her lined, pursed lips. The burnt orange peel scent was dominant, but the smoggy breath was a mildly numbing piney resinous tingle with almost bleu notes, or some other yeasty-fungal quality.
-- "Local product?"
"Naturally. Can't really trust anything from outside; too many enemies; want us all dead. We've taken up the mantle and our Unicorn sister has enjoyed our bullseye more than they had first argued would be the case... Had to massage things a bit, out there, in the world... Earned ire -- heh." Risette's smile was knowing and uncoy; naughty was insufficient a word, but wicked wasn't quite apt, either. Intentional, in all senses of the word.
-- "Making enemies?"
"Raison D'être, ...almost the whole point of Akeldama; the Left Hand of Our Sister."
Again, the smile, but tinged, then, with sadness; bright, pure red surfaced in droplets which then fell back in splashed crowns of maroon and slate: those lost, and the duty unto undoing. The older woman took-up Yannis' right hand and gently squeezed. A single silvery tear, flown beige and off-white for their surrounds went its way down and leapt from Risette's cleft, pointy chin. A single, unfeminine sniffle and hard swallow was all she let show.
Yes, Akeldama was wasted here. Terra would come to ruin and these beautiful monsters wasted -- wasted; -- the time was reached, the stars were right.
The queue advanced and as the foot patrol neared they almost waved through her car, but her sneered smile snapped the sergeant to attention and the vehicle was subjected to remote inspection in a kill-box marked yellow on the pavement. Syil could feel the electromagnetic scans from under the vehicle as well as the oscillations in the various components of the Renault Vz3 from the aerial drones overhead. As her own body vibrated under burst pulses of infra- and ultrasound, Syil looked anew at Risette. The younger woman was in her sixties, nearer her seventies, and yet, she had a youthful appearance save that of her undisturbed eyes, which were vacant, almost vacuous in their serene uncaring blight -- these were the eyes of a child; haunted, and --
"Are my papers in order?"
--- "Hold on. We're on it. Keep your hands where we can see them at all times, the both of you." The man was darkly complected, southern descent, interior haplotypes, primarily, and of course, Arabesque from the slave trade days of Terra. His carnelian-brown eyes stood out, almost luminous, against his blue-black skin tone; how spectacular an oddity; many millions to one against. Syil's adoring gaze caught his attention, and a nascent smile began, but was unmade before it left the fires of creation of his mind.
--- "Yours check, we'll need to process your passenger. That pink queue line, THREE, is yours -- any deviation will be met with immediate force. Do you understand me? PINK THREE, there!"
"Understood, Captain--"
--- "Sergeant, ma'am. I'm Enlisted, if you please." The smile he had intended, now within an acceptable context, cheeky, even, flashed back at Syil, who shamelessly winked with open smile. Risette noticed and laughed aloud; the Sgt. smiled broad, and then killed that and raised his microcalibre carbine in a compact stance as he brought its sights in-line with is open eyes.
"Halt! You there! HALT or I shall fire!" Syil tore around in her seat and looked back at the blue truck, almost ancient, overflown with human cargo: women, children, mostly also from the Continent. Androids approached as their yoke-operators in distant armoured mounds had the humans withdraw. Risette grit her teeth and with an eye to the rearview, drove to PINK THREE's queue. Syil watched with apprehension as the cab occupants spilled out under direct weapons threat and drones used less-lethal means to corral the people to remain in the wood-planked walled truck bed. Other, later occupants of P3, cut off her vision, but they, too, looked on with dread. Then the seemingly inevitable small arms fire erupted, first from the vehicle, and only afterwards, the androids and Akeldaemones themselves. A grenade-sized explosion, tamped for the press in the bed sent up a spume of clothing shreds in red. An ultralight helicopter landed from out of nowhere, and medical staff and bots unfurled in a race to save lives.
Risette was agitated, cursed softly, -- almost under her breath, and although she occasionally looked rearward, she pressed her mind harder and harder until she was at first stoney, and then, steely; a sheen of black oil was psychically present, and with it, serenity and detachment, and orderliness with a hint of mirth,
"What did i say? Paid off in dividends... of a sort... those strategic provocations... They hate us, now -- all their lies -- about Ysroel, over the decades -- ha! -- now we really do them and they hate us for them--" she again drew in breath, and the wickedness was in full rein.
Syil winced, shuddered, and a twisted laugh of sympathy and familiarity squeaked out of her throat. She even looked a little like Sabit, this Risette Yannis.
Friday, April 5, 2024
Gullfire
Escape From New York, as a song:
---
BRIDE OF SET
IMPOSSIBLE SUN
ERODED EMPIRES
(C) 2022 Kyrinn S. Eis
All Rights Reserved Worldwide
I've been in the business some time.
From heyday to this vindictive list
--dying days to scratch-off old lines:
insert knife blade and give it a twist.
Nothing but failing Nation States
and Corporate Orbital Popes;
on the right hand old ethnic hates;
--and bloody handed rings to kiss.
The Creed paid well, but mind your back,
and the Oath, their checks always clear.
Old Lone Wolf leader formed his pack;
and Gullfire missions knew no fear.
Like death's pall descending Oathen
infiltrators stole the thunder
from the Wolf of Eastern foemen
: details of Atomic Numbers.
Heavy Water; mighty lasers
Fusion captured in magnetic
bottles; mentioned Thorium?
--I just tried to follow orders.
Stateside this war hero stumbled,
found this bag with million dollars;
these NPF pigs and I rumbled and
now I'm here on Liberty Island.
Something 'bout the President gone,
missing somewhere in the Boroughs;
fallen clear before plane went down
--tricked me into being thorough.
Ticking timebombs in my neck, they
injected with broad spectrum update;
gave the Prez their very best case
scenario where he's been led away safe.
There's been a major complication:
The tracking bracelet has changed hands,
No longer on the President.
Streets pat'rolled by Warlord's kill bands.
Enter deadly Delena...
inventor Melvin's only squeeze:
sent to mind him by, the Duke
of New Amsterdam, --if you please.
Took a crossbow bolt to my thigh;
Fought in a ring, guy twice my size;
Emergency beacon activated and
grabbed the Prez and made for the prize.
Gullfire glider had been cut loose;
No way back out except for Cabbie,
blasting old tunes through dark streets.
The Duke, in pursuit, to cook our goose.
Cabbie, Delena, Melvin, all dead.
Prez and Me, on foot now fled to
Liberty Wall where sling lift waited
But, the Duke, he had other plans...
Saw Ronnie Thatcher up and out.
Fought the Duke waiting for the sling,
'til Prez Thatcher did his thing, and
Shouted, "I'm the Duke!, I'm the Duke!"
Shot him up, like, really bad...
"C'mon, c'mon," I grabbed the line,
hoisted high. Dropped down hard
conscious of the time: Pinprick charges
neutralised.
Asked baby Ronnie about the cost, how
many good lives had been lost.
Prez Thatcher's reply was, "Tragic, Tragic..."
Made the switch, and then I walked out.
Still can hear it, to this very day:
The stunned silence, a mortified State,
instead of fusion secrets to pave the way,
as Cabbie's tune world-wide played.
Without that hope, the oil war,
raced like fire across the globe;
made Australia a 'No-Go' Zone
But that's a tale for another time.
[] NOTES-
o "Call me, Snake."
Friday, April 5th, 2024
Since I'm older than you, and I enjoy my Birthdays, I'm going to risk upsetting you and wish you a Happy Birthday anyway. You see, Love, I am thrilled that you are alive, and even though we aren't located in a house together, where I can gaze into your lovely eyes; bake you just the right sort of cake (vanilla with chocolate ganache frosting, right?), and make fun of your mis-matched socks while we sit around and watch TV and Netflix until dinner, I can think about it and hope that your day is a sweet one with a little magic.
As far as I'm concerned, the world is a lot less lonely with you in it, and I hope you can feel the same.
My Beautiful Woman is Alive!
Thursday, April 4, 2024
Tuesday, April 2, 2024
Marissa, of course I still love, desire, and want you.
-- I'm no quitter; remember that old post of mine?
There's a #WitchHous3 song which talks about wings; a little depressing/confusing, -- but you know me... Love, my: " we'll mount up [on] wings black as midnight. " [Recursion post] is still in the cards as far as I'm concerned. You've got the only seat at the table, and I'm All-In.
Be Mine, as I Am Yours.
A Simple Game
A Simple Game
Song by The Moody Blues
As time goes by, you will see
That we're going to be free
You and me, we'll touch the sky
Can you see in your mind's eye
That we are one
We're all the same
And life is just a simple game
There, by your side, I will be
When this crazy world is free
Free from doubt
When it finds out
Exactly what we're meant to be
That we are one
We're all the same
And life is just a simple game
Thoughts of another day
Flashing through my head
Thinking how life could be
All of the things that our great men have said
Be what we want to be
What we deserve to be
What we are meant to be
As time goes by, you will see
That we're going to be free
You and me, we'll touch the sky
Can you see in your mind's eye
That we are one
We're all the same
And life is just a simple game
Songwriters: Mike Pinder
A Simple Game lyrics © Sparta Florida Music Group Ltd., Sparta-florida Music Group Ltd
Source: Musixmatch
'Serpents' in my mind
Up since 230.
'Serpents' playing in my mind, I lay in the3 darkness and I couldn't understand why, why that song?
I had two things on my mind: times I had spent wondering how I was going to survive while my unemployment funds might arrive, and, how I had spent my inheritance in pursuit of a dream to become a rockstar and failed to even learn guitar -- and yet, write one 300,000+ word novel and get half-through a second one while I waited to hear an answer.
I got up, read the lyrics to the song and wondered what part of them made me think they somehow applied to my current situation; i couldn't find.
I re-read the reason Sharon had written them and -- no, that wasn't it
I read your explanation of what, I Can't Listen to Gene Clark Anymore, was about, and how you were delighted to work with van Etten on the song -- hmm, not that either...
Went upstairs and found two 5 lb weights on the dining room table; I'd had access to weights at my sister's house and would use them at least three times a week in a routine to keep my arms buffed, even when I was half-starved saving half my paycheck towards moving out of her house to here; saved $1500 that way and still survived a lung infection, much less my fall injury.
When I felt like I was going to die walking up Fort Hill after an 8 hour shift, laden with my backpack, I had to start taking Lyfts home... LoL, good times; wish I had a job now.
So I wert outside and did a short set with the weights and took in the violet-magenta cold of spring morning, and just stopped thinking. Just breathed and counted and worked my arms -- arms I'd hoped would be used in pleasuring a songstress I'd fallen head over heels for...