Picture This: Victorian/Edwardian Edition

 

Picture This: An AI-interpretation of a lyric-excerpt

While the lyrics the AI printed are fragmentary and jumbled, the image is pretty; silly machines.

2004 now 2023

THREADCUTTER-

(C) 2004, 2023 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

A poem about Lthrus X'a

All in the moulden gloom

  Full stealthily we glide;

For all our oars, with practised skill

  By armoured arms are plied,

While silent hands do speak long sentence

  Of our incursion thus to guide.

 

Ah, sweet Three!  In such an hour,

  Beneath the silvery moons,

To beg command of breath to still

  My agents of ready doom.

Yet what can one commander do

  Against three weaving looms?

 

Insidious Alvia rushes forth

  Her gesture, "Let's begin it!"

In subtler signs Vekundra notes

  "There'll be bloodshed in it!"

Wise Terizha adds naught to tell

  But dashes forth to win it.

 

Anon, to sudden screaming won,

  In frenzy they pursue

The traitor-kin moving through a land

  Of dangers odd and new,

In friendly chat with brute and thief--

  And dark-sired ties renewed.

 

And ever, as the veins drained

  The wells of living dry,

And faintly strove the wounded ones

  To pull their broken bodies by,

'To rest for a while, to regain my breath...'

  The dying voices cry.

 

Thus the tales of sanguine deeds did run

  Thus slowly, drop by drop,

Many throbbing brains were hammered out--

  And now those lives are done,

And home we row, a merry band,

  Before the rising sun.

 

Lthrus... A waking dream did take,

  And with strangler's hand,

Pried it from where Childhood's fears were mired

  In Memory's shifting sand.

Like the villans' withered sheathes in pallor 

  Cured in that arid land.

 

A boat beneath the fading sky,

  Meandering onward dreamily

In an evening fleet and spry--

 

Killers three nestled near

  Lifeless eye; unhearing ear

Upon a current bourn here--

 

Long has dawned the fiery sky

  Glories fade and flesh does fry

Thus three killers in a boat arrived

 

Still she haunts me, shadow-wise,

  Lthrus stalking under skies

Never seen by sane men's eyes.

 

A killer yet, her tale to bear,

  With anxious eye and priq'd-up ear

Watchingly I shall settle near.

 

In wonderment -- the fourth -- I die,

  Dying as the moons fly by,

Dying as my lovers' cry:

 

Ever drifting down in scream--

  Lingering in the silver gleam--

My life, what was it but a dream?

 

MidNight

 Me, insane

New Pinterest for the Novel Series Setting: Green Ruins & Shallow Blues

Green Ruins & Shallow Blues
(C) 2023 Kyrinn S. Eis  All Rights Reserved

Pinterest Link

I'm writing Book Two on my sister's tablet after the doors are locked, and handwriting in the hours prior, as well.  I send myself the updated Word file and then snap photos of my handwritten portions.  Weird workflow, but such is life.

Even Hell has its Heroes Art Piece

From The Ninth Gate

Baroness Kessler:
My latest work: "The Devil: History and Myth" - a kind of biography. It will be published early next year.
Dean Corso:
Why the devil?
Baroness Kessler:
[laughs]
I saw him one day. I was fifteen years old, and I saw him as plain as I see you now. It was love at first sight.
Dean Corso:
You know, 300 years ago, you'd have been burned at the stake for saying something like that.
Baroness Kessler:
300 years ago I wouldn't have said it!

Sunday Memories of Water, and, a Poem and Picture of Fire

One of those rare times I'm listening to something other than WitchHouse while writing.  This is a recurring Sunday memory of mine when my father used to play records on the old hi-fi media cabinet, and later, component system.  Serge Gainsbourg and Georges Moustaki.  This is my favourite Moustaki, as it is also one we listened to in Brazilian Portuguese, also a Sunday sound.

Les eaux de Mars
The Waters of March

Les eaux de Mars

Got some of my frustration off my chest airing it to my sister and brother in law about the change from car and work to hoofing it to bus and work while ill and not enough food and so forth.  Steps are being enacted to resolve those things which can be solved or ameliorated.  Feels better giving them voice.

I'm already writing the second book while wrapping up the first, revisiting parts from other characters PoVs and tying up loose ends.  The second book structure is proving fun with three mirrors.

The 4th floor is under construction at work, and it has a lot of spook-appeal.  Open spaces are no cakewalk in exploration and make each blind turn that much more unnerving than the slog of turn after turn.  Big dark empty spaces with eerie little lights can definitely conjure many unsettling thoughts.  Heheh!

The Centre of the World
(C) 2023 Kyrinn S. Eis

Here at the center, the center of the world:
Darkness oppresses, fumes choke and yet
its the pressure, the heat and fire of it all
which really gets one down, here in the center
of the world; I went where they sent me,
where you all can follow for all I care
this river of dirt and fire
at the bottom of the stair
Other centers die in gyre, do not hold
indeed cannot hold, and yet,
behold the dirt and fire
at the center of the world.

Happy Humpday