Love's Dark Goodbye

Last night my walls were tissue-thin
There hung a vale of starry skies
The years dissolved, your smile slipped in
My heart repeats an aural delight 
Our words, anew, infeasible shy

We dismiss the words, our eyes reply
A thousand angels chant your name
You hold my hand, I melt inside
Novas shower through my veins
While thoughts exalt, our voices tame

How shall I ever avow your heart
When dreams are all that we now share
In nights demur we always part
A tragic love I shan't compare
How could you leave me in the dark? 

Popping Down, Time Punking

art work by; behance.net/gallery/Steampunk/6956193

Dear Anthony, this is goodbye!

I am writing this to my blog, as your girlfriend I am no longer returning, pack up my stuff if you want. I can't say when or if I'll be needing anything from the present day.

We have made a unique existence in an altogether alternate world. The past we are inhabiting has almost none of the restriction of your world, so returning for more than a few hours is unbearable. So long as a few basic rules are followed we can live here indefinitely.

Presently we are a motley collection of entertainers, craftsman/engineers and historians, such that we are perpetually occupied with creating a fantastical world set in the past, inhabited by intellectuals from the future...Utopia, I would say. So no I 'm not returning to your tiny controlling world of limitations. That would be a profound folly.

The major aspect of dwelling in the past has to do with removing anything that isn't of the period. The chances of something from the future contaminating the present day is strictly forbidden and will get you thrown out of the past. This cell phone is always on the Pullman car with the centrifuge and any other paraphernalia from the future. We have this menagerie of actors, musicians, and storytellers on a constant quest for the next amazing event in time to inhabit for a night, and then move on. It's all very well thought out, so long as we make a quick leap back to cover our tracks, nothing is altered, and off we go to the next magical soiree.

Today we moved the Pullman with our steam driven hauler out of the New York station to Buffalo where we are planning a great fish fry with the local beer and music on the grand pipe organ recently installed in the new theater. Then we're off to Niagara for a midnight bash at the falls. So you see we are only limited by the ability to transfer the centrifuge and that requires rails. So that is where you come in. The party here has grown to 36 and we require a much greater centrifuge, one we can situate on a lighter than air ship we plan to build. This will enable us to navigate almost endlessly in almost any direction.

I know you are asking, “what's in this for me?” Well we voted and it was decided to allow you to venture along on the maiden voyage, but you must agree to not cause any conflict. The popping down to previous time frames needs to be a stress-free experience, that is the overriding rule. You must agree to not be obstructionist in any way if you want to be allowed into the Pullman and the previous regions of time. I am sure you will agree, and given a little time to reorient your feelings, I feel I can manage it with you as well.

Anthony, I have had several months to consider our relationship, while I left a few days ago, you may take more time, it is for the best. I'm not going into relationships for a while so do not think I am replacing you. This is such a journey, as has never been tried before and relationships aren't all they used to be anyway.

Well Anthony, I do hope you are able to agree to our conditions, because there is one rule we have that isn't as harmless as the rest. The protection of obstructionists dwelling in the future is not our concern. 

For Ruth

When first we held life's craggy shores
Our hearts wrapped full were bound
Not short nor still while well aligned
Our sights and souls entwined

Winds soon came calling, they tore our grip
Swift tides called, "lines be cast"
For there came waves of currents strong
Our grip could not outlast

Those ties remain as knots unwind
Full sails must take their course
While distant lands draw lives apart
Our hearts still stride these shores

Killing Time (the story of Time Punking)

image art http://bit.ly/TOnWUO

So, Anthony, I'm sitting here by the centrifuge, getting dark, finally. I'm preparing to jump ahead, so you know. Trying to stay awake, not mess up. I think night is best for what we're doing. Less likely to interfere with things and darkness provides cover. (as if anyone would actually be here to notice) Yeah, killing time, Ha ha, that's a good one, get it? Hey, if you get a chance, send something to eat, from the future. Ya know, cause I don't think I should...well you know, mess with the place any more than, well maybe it wouldn't matter since I'm doing the forward leap, but, who knows? OK back in a bit. ..click.

Hey, Anthony, me again. So I'm posting notes to my blog, in case this doesn't ever get heard. (probably look like a crackpot prank, ha ha) Yeah, so time is radically slower, but I am finding that stuff is strange to the touch too. Sort of soft, yeah, and cool to hold, that's weird. Anyway, I hope the next hop will answer a bunch of questions. I wonder if I left a body back there, will I also leave one here? I suppose I must be gone altogether because even my clothes are here, everything inside the centrifuge is here. So a guy could bring a virus from the future and really mess up a lot of peoples lives to come. Man, this stuff is pretty scary when you think about it. Just sitting here feels like pulling on this loose thread of some sweater and it's like unraveling the whole fabric of time. Now that IS heavy. Also, if everybody is static energy, and I'm from the future, will people in the past see a shadow on the wall, just for an instant, when I pass the place where they are standing, right now? Because I think the strangest thing about this place is not that no one else is here, but what is freakier than the thought of Stephen King on crack, is...that I feel like I am being watched, and it's freaking me a little. Wow, back later. ..click.

Well, I got things set for twenty four hours ahead. I am turning off the cell, just in case, what with the energy surges, a risk to avoid. Right...just a little nervous...trying to remember everything. Right... it's all set...so here goes...wish me luck. ..click.

Whoa, what a blast! Anthony, I made the jump ahead! Hey, so I am pretty dizzy now. I am going to check out the situation and get right back, hold the phone. ..click

Oh man, Anthony! I think we are back in action, I went around to the places by the old Court House and things seem to be right like they were to begin with, or...tomorrow...you know? Okaaay, I have to return now...so I will need to reprogram the settings, talk soon. ..click

Alllrighty then, I just have to wait for the flywheels to generate enough inertia to make the next hop back to the present time. Sooo, just sitt'n in the past and enjoying the privacy, indeed. Feel'n pretty jazzed about this time travel thing. Sort of a pioneer, like walking on the Moon...well not as cool as that, but we are making History Anthony, you and me...and just...CRAP! Anthony, I am sitting here looking up at the stars, and this big bird thing flies right over me! That is very very strange, man that can't happen.

Hello?... This is Anthony...who's this? Is this Jake, are you punk'n me?

Anthony, hold on! It's me, calling from the lab. (Well sort of) Did you get my messages?

Well...? Whoever this, I am going back to bed...Good-bye!

Anthony, don't hang up, there's someone here! I can see him now, he's just standing there, looking right at me. Anthony, Antho... I see...his face, it's...ME! ...click.

The Song of Sweet Taress

Truncheons of despair, surge within him
Wintry, his fist, and brooding soul
Assails, a sea of darkness solemn
Mind, a tangle of lost control

Icy, his blood runs shrill and sinking
Replete, within his veins complex
Brain, confounded truth denying
Completes, his troubled power vex

Loathing, rapine astride his trace
Vines and creatures wither there
Evil, profuse with no disgrace
Entwine, with sweet Taress's hair

None, could better know her timbre
Or sweeping curtsy now effete
His, was iced hard with rancor
For which, drowned out her fair express

Locutions, his hate for all this day
As late, the song of sweet Taress
Shall not, proclaim to where he lay
To wait, the guillotine's finesse

a life of half measures

When you were an inspiration of excess,
I sat on the side lines and wished.
But there was no way
I was going to risk rejection

You had it all, great looks,
personality,
love for life,
Style

The best I could do was hope,
Hope that you would notice,
Take charge.
That was not your method either.

For the longest time I hoped
You and I could become an item.
Even when I was lucky enough, to
Ride next to you in your
Mustang convertible,
I was unable to show you what I felt

Now we are both living in separate arrangements.
You in your fast fashionable lifestyle,
Me, in my small safe world of ink and paper.
Micro components of life.
A life of half measures
And full regrets

Pale Umbrage

Perceive the air as loving stories
Where we are bound up in our mores
Conceived in moonlit sweet warm nights
Preserved on nights of pale gray ice

Cast into the mist of Winter's regret
Delirious Summers of denials cool sweat
While warm embraces defer our woes
Cold earth shall clutch our tiny toes