Sunday with the PardAnita Swam in moonlight
and cherry pepsi, drunk on Jason's lake
while Cherry played Tikitorch
Navel shots of
High on fresh air
and spoon glory.
Zeke and Nathanial
dug sand graves and mermaid breasts,
while jamming to ticketed rock fandom.
All to celerate
a Nimir-Ra's coming of age.
Seeker's Tower Chapter two
I looked at Solace. I had to make an ever-lasting impression on Harold. I had to make him scared. I needed something…
~Take my saddle off. If anything should happen, I will catch you. Not only will it show your ability, but also there is a certain something about a woman riding a dragon with out a saddle.
I smiled, and Gerald's frown grew. "I know that smile…" he started as I walked over to Solace. "That is not a good smile. That is a dangerous smile."
I winked at him, and began undoing Solace's saddle. Gerald ran over, grabbing my hand.
"What the hells do you think you are doing?"
"Taking Charge, Master. Mount your beast."
"Are you insane?!"
"No." I threw the saddle aside. "I am perfectly confident that I will retrieve what my king wishes." I looked at Solace. "Grand Sir of this Compound, you seeker calls you."
~As the se
Seeker's Tower Chapter One
~ denotes thought-speak
The Seeker's Tower
The Cartensaya are dragon riders of the southern deserts, who value language and learning along with land and air. The war against the Geteheara, the sea shore/ delta country across the great desert, has raged heavy since the capture of the 5-month-old princess Santula in the year of 573. The King, Lantis, is her older brother's son, who still holds the grudge of his ancestor. Years have passed since a Nurse who had turned Geteheara Spy took the young princess from her crib, and the search for the child long go has never ceased.
Santula hung her head, holding her screams. The child in side her pressed out, and she cried as the men of the castle huddled around her. The healer held her legs wide apart.
"Scream if needed… we understand that women can not bare pain."
If they only knew real pain. Santula thought, sweating and crying as the child pressed on war
Happiness could come from
Broken bones and bloodied lips.
Yet, my gratification
Comes only after the pain.
Only after being slammed
Against metal walls, or wooden
Trips for stitches and X-rays.
Only then will I hold my
Smiling at the blue ribbons on my wall.
and interenet rendes-vous
into my head.
No, don't. don't even
think i'll be your little
cow girl pin-up
in my Wranglers
and dust-aged Stetson
Your ginger Cat in
eyeliner and calf high
leather boots, music
lit in my eyes...
your silent mistress,
caressing at your
whim in black lace
and spending the daylight alone.
My dearest HermioneMy dearest Hermione,
The rays of the sun perfectly strike the strands of your golden brown hair. Making it seem like you are wearing a crown of light. This never fails to dazzle my eyes. Sometimes I think that the crown you wear is most deserving of you. Since you are, indeed, the most perfect creature in the world. Smart, beautiful and a bit feisty if I may say so.
I write this letter to you knowing that, at present, I cannot seem to make personal contact with you. Certain circumstances prevent us from openly being with each other. You do not know of the many times I've tried. I have decided to end it now. To end this unsatisfied hunger of love from driving me to insanity.
I ask you now to meet me at the North Tower at exactly 10 pm of tomorrow.
I'll be waiting.
The One Who Loves You
The one who loves you. This thought echoed in Hermione'