jibberings of a madman

tangled weaves

A Link to my Book
[info]weavemaker
This is a link to my novel that I'm still writing

The Tangled Tapestry

Posted using ShareThis

Haiku Visions
[info]weavemaker



Napalm Memories









aces over eights
a slow walk in the jungle
tears fire and rain


Tags:

(no subject)
[info]weavemaker


I'm in a hellish mood-Friday the 13th a day when all hell breaks loose- All my poems at the writer's cafe has been wiped out- I only hope it's just a major glitch. here's an old poem wrote- It's how I feel right now...


The Darkening

of a Star

 

 

The blazing fire

 of chaos

blinds my eyes -

and engulfs me

 in this pitch black pit

 of night
 ambushed

 by tiny tears

and foolish fears

 leaving me impotent

 in my rage

 

I no longer

weep

For all the

dead

that lie in that

 fallowed heap

for they

 at least have found

the warm embrace

 of sleep

 

The light

 has now become

 too bright

as I seek refuge

 in the pale dark light

of the

shadowed moon

as I let her

devour me

in her cold moist

 juicy womb

 

as the fire

 within me burns

cold heat

I shall ever

 bite

and gnaw

 at your feet

 

 

till next time

bob 

 

 


Exposed-An Interview
[info]weavemaker
Note: This interview was done some five years ago on a former website that I wrote on- Lit.org- The site has changed and I no longer frequent it but it was a damn good place to learn the craft. Not anymore though but that's another story. But Lit always had its problems as you can see from the ending statement of Claire-and she as well is another story.....





Rcallaci (whose picture is in the lit.org album if you want to see who is talking, was gracious enough to share with us a little of himself and a lot about his writing...and I am pleased to present him for your reading pleasure! There are very few people who will not recognize his name from his writing, and his diligent and gracious commenting...


Q: Bob, your bio indicates that you are on a spiritual journey...is that a fair assessment? How long has that been true, and how has it progressed?

A: I've been on a spiritual journey in one form or another most of my life. The philosophies of religion and science have been a major part of my teenage and adult life. The more I age the more full life becomes and I hope I've gained a little wisdom along the way.

Q: Your poem You Dare to Be Like Me! written in 2003...I truly couldn't
decide if it was it written out of anger from 9-11...or as a warning to ourselves...enlighten me? And how do you feel now about the world situation?


A: We as Americans can be quite arrogant and intolerant about views that don't coincide with our own. Many of us view the world as our Disneyland and for someone to speak out against us is apostasy. This poem is about our bloat and our deafness to the world.

We are experiencing a World Jihad. We live in thrilling and scary times.

Q: In several of your poems I "feel" a finger pointing at the establishment...am I right? What would be your priority if you could change it?

A: We are the establishment. We put a blanket over the mirror so as not to see who we really are. I would like my poetry to be the hand that takes that blanket off. We need to realize we are all a part of the same piece of dust.

Q: I loved In Dreams of Hell because it brought to the forefront fears, called on angels and demons and then resolved to a peaceful place...you have a real flair for taking the reader on a roller coaster ride...have you had both the extreme highs and the extreme lows in your life?

A: Life is about ebbs and flows, highs and lows, hate and love. What makes us who and what we are is how we handle what comes before us. I've seen beauty and I've seen horror, I've doubted and hated myself and loved and admired me as well. Life is one hell of a roller coaster ride the trick is to enjoy the whole ride.
Dreams of Hell is about that roller coaster ride.

Q: You ask in many of your poems what you could have done differently...what could have made you better...I am particularly thinking of Never is Forever ...looking back over your life, what could you or would you have done differently?

A: What a loaded question. In "Never is Forever" and other poems I ask the question of the What Ifs and What nots. We all at one time or another have regretted some of the choices that we have made. We wonder how our lives would have turned out if we chose a different road to walk on. Looking back their are many things I would love to have changed but if I did change those things I would be a different person then I am today. All those good and bad choices that I made is what made me what I am today and I kind of like where I am at this point in time.

Q: In Killing the Buddha, it would seem that you subscribe to the fact that our messengers are gone and we have no one to rely on but ourselves...do you l feel that way?

A: This poem is basically my philosophy in a nutshell. To listen to the true voice that lies within us is to listen to the universe. We are our own messengers our own spiritual guides and by getting to truly know ourselves is to know God.

Q: Does death worry or concern you? Some of your poems seem to dread it...so set me straight if I am mistaken.

A: I have a healthy fear of death. I've seen my share of death and in some cases the devastation that it can cause. I'm an existentialistic poet, the meaning of life and death hold an equal fascination to me. Do I dread it? Well I really would rather be alive then dead it's something that I could wait on.

Q: Some of your poems are romantic, some are reflective, some are protestations...do you consider yourself all those things...a romantic, one who is reflective and a protester?

A: I mainly see myself as a reflective thinking poet with a dash of romance and a little vinegar. I reflect alot on Sin. What is it. Why are we drawn to it. I wrote a lot of poems on our attraction to sin. A few that come to mind “ The seven deadly sins”, “Sin”, “Perversion” and “Don’t Bite the Apple”. Sin is such a juicy little thing. Most of my so called romantic poems have to do with Nature. I personalize nature into male female. Poems such as "Why Grass Grows", "Breathless, frostbite, speechless and heatstroke" all have a romantic flavor to it. Nature is such a delicious thing. As for the Vinegar, I have alot of that. I protest mainly against intolerance. Intolerance and fanaticism drive me up the wall. Two of the more recent ones "A fundamental Flaw" and "No Need to Pray" Intolerance is such a foolish thing.

Q: Ok, I have to ask this...flies, worms, and rot are symbols in many of your poems....their significance...are they the "enemy" of what stands between us and finding true selves?

A: Flies and maggots, worms and rot represent the emptiness and hollowness of our souls. They suck out the light leaving in its wake a rotting worm infested core while buzzing flies continuously regurgitate the sins that consumed us. When we embrace sin (and it can be oh so sweet) we become the worm and the fly until there is nothing left but happy maggots.

Q: What is the favorite of the 159 pieces you have posted at lit.org (and believe me, I know how hard this question is)...and if not THE favorite, one that particularly did what you wanted it to do?

A: I love most of my pieces and to single one out is quite difficult. So rather then pick out one piece I'll pick out one of my favorite series. My most fun pieces are my " Beastie Poems". I've written ten of them to date and hopefully more in the future. These came about by me reading Kitten Courna's poem "Creatures". I was enchanted and kept seeing the little beasties in my mind. So with Kittens kind approval I wrote my first beastie poem. A much darker version then Kittens. The little beasties kept on pestering me so I wrote nine more. My favorite one of that group would be "The Beastie King".

Q: You are generally pretty reticent about "issues"...are there any particular issues which sharpen your sense of esponsibility...make your blood boil, or which you would like to address?

A: There are many issues that I'm passionate about. The preservation of our Ecosystem is on the top of the list. Depleted Rainforests, polluted waters, extinctions of wonderful species that we will never see again, the plight of the gorilla , whale and elephant, the disappearance of the free range, parks and the natural wonders of this world. I'm also a nut on Space exploration, Stem Cell Research, Animal rights, and Medical Ethics. Man's arrogance, ignorance and gluttony are the cause for the weakening of our ecosystem and the disappearance of nature's treasures. I may not address these in an "issue" type forum but I do address them in my poetry.

Q: You have written two rants...one about the recent staff write off, and another entitled Wall of Fire. I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't ask what precipitated "Wall of Fire"...and you are so eloquent, and so effective in your prose, why not more of it?

A: The "Wall of Fire" was a remembrance of an event that has remained in my dreams. It was a dark moment in my life that has shaped every inch of Who and What I am Today.. At the time I wrote this piece our country was headed towards the war in Iraq. Young wide eyed idealistic soldiers like my self thirty years before, off to learn what hell is really like. History constantly repeats itself and we're to dumb to learn its lessons.

I have written a few non-fiction pieces about Free Will and Time but have shied away from writing short stories. Poetry comes easier from me, it's comes in a flash, while prose I have to work and sweat for it. When I wrote my time series one sentence could take a day to write. It takes much more commitment and I'm basically a very lazy guy.

Q: How does science fit into your view of the world and its creation? I was struck by your poem Silent Bang, which is what partially generated my question.

A: Science is a huge part of my world. Quantum theory, String theory, particle physics, cosmology, black holes and curved space, the macro and micro universe and universes, evolution and the big bang enthrall, enchant and beguile me.

Science and religion are different shades of the same thing. The language used and the mindset though is quite different. In my poem "Silent Bang" a tiny string stirred was caused and thus creation and chaos began.

Q: Forgive the phrasing here...you are "godly" in your demeanor, your comments and many of your writings, but you do not seem to follow any one doctrine....is that by design, or are you just keeping that information to
yourself?


A: Well I don't wear robes and live in a cave and I'm as ungodly as the next guy. But religions and all forms of spirituality and the integration of those religions with science have been a obsession of mine most of my life. I've been a theist, deist, pantheist, pagan, agnostic, atheist and agnostic once again. I believe God is dead, yet to be born and is alive. I believe in magic and science. I'm a walking contradiction. Life is one grand mystery and I'm just one little fool in its weave.

Q: Why do you write, Bob...sometimes I feel it is sharing or artistry, and other times I feel it is more the "teacher" in you (but always artistry)...Do you write for pleasure, to inspire, to be published? And if you are (published)..spill it so we can go look or buy!

A: I write for pure pleasure. I love the art in it, to create a moving picture with words. I'm somewhat of a frustrated teacher so I do like to impart some of my addled wisdom. If my poetry can inspire someone then that's a gift which is priceless. I don't write to be published I'm not focused enough. I'm too lazy to submit,submit,submit. Maybe in a few years while I have more time will I then try to publish.

Q: Has there been an event in your life which set you on your present path...the journey of knowledge...or has the "journey" always been the thing?

A: The journey has always been the thing. I love knowledge. The more you know the less you know is such a truism. I 'm just about on the B's in the alphabet of understanding.



Rapid-Fire Want to Knows.......

Q: Your favorite poet/poem of all time?


A: William Blake as a Poet and the "Raven" by Poe as a Poem

Q: Your favorite non-fiction author/work?

A: Ken Wilber as author "The Selfish Gene" by Dawkins as the work

Q: Your favorite fiction work/author?

A: "The Silmarillion" by J.R.R. Tolkien

Q: The single thing you are most proud of (pure satisfaction, not sinful
pride) as you review your life thus far?

A: Marrying my Wife

Q: I don't know how much of a music aficionado you are, but would very
much like a peek into your music library....can you share what you like?


A: I love and Eat Opera. Italian and German are my favorites. Verde blows me away and Wagner inspires me (not the man but his talent) I could name over two hundred opera's that I love but I'd put you to sleep. Mozart, Bach and Beethoven are my musical Gods I could never get enough of them . Coltrane and Miles Davis get me down and dirty.

Q: You could write a sentence to the world which everyman (which you say
you are) would hear or read. Write the sentence for me.


A: Life is all about Flow, follow its breeze and bend with it

Q: If you could sit down in your library with a group of six (living or dead) what would you want to know, and what would you like to ask?

A: I only need two to sit down with. That would be God and Lucifer.
First I would want to ask if they created us or did we create them. Then I'd ask them for the meaning of existence and to kiss and make up.

Q: Favorite pastime other than writing?

A: Chess, opera, science, history, science fiction, and movies

Q: Pet peeves about others writing?

A: Hip hop speak, those who can't take criticism.

Q: What are your aspirations five years down the road....

A: Maybe to get published. That would be cool.


I want to thank Bob for taking his time and being so forthright and interesting in his responses.

I enjoyed getting to know him a little better, as I have enjoyed getting to know everyone I have EXPOSED! and met at lit.org...

Until next time,

Claire
----------------------
Question of the Week

Q: You do the expose and the photo book and now you do the poetry thread and still comment? But you don't comment on everybodies stuff so arent you being too unfair here to be a staff membership?

A: Well....first of all, I started EXPOSED! and the album before I was made staff. I was asked by a more senior staff member to take on the poetry thread, and I think it's done pretty well. I try to comment on as much work as I can, but in commenting, I am just a member like you, and do what I can within the time I have to do it. My comment to post ratio is pretty high, so I hope I try to do my part. I enjoy the site very much and while I would love to comment on everything, there just aren’t enough hours in the day. I try to vary my comments so I read new people all the time.

If my "visibility" is a problem, the person to go to is Crowe. (crowe@lit.org) or to the staff (staff@lit.org). Lit.org is Crowe's site, which he made and maintains for the benefit of all of us. If he (or staff) wants to slap me down, take away responsibilities or silence me, then that is his prerogative, and I will accept it.






My Beasties
[info]weavemaker

The Beasties

(A Continuing Series)

 

Icky stickly beasties   #1

 

Icky stickly little creatures

Crawling, creeping, laughing, weeping

Nightfall falling, horror calling

Shadow beasties grouse about

 

In this night of darkly sorrow

Death is knocking, howling, screaming

Head is reeling, talons squeezing

Soul is bleeding, beasties feeding

 

In the cracks in hidden darkness

They are waiting, watching, thirsting

Not the innocent just the wounded

Forever feasting, terror breathing, never sleeping

 

 

beasties beasties everywhere  #2

 

When the tide is very low

And the nightfall at it’s deepest

One can see the shadows dancing

Down beneath and far below

 

Never sleeping always hungry

Fear and loathing is our clothing

Wings a flapping jaws a snapping

Frenzied frantic beastie dance

 

All we beasties gather about

The meanie beasties hip hop and shout

The feastie beasties bite chop and pout

The human beasties are evil devout

 

Arise! Arise! You mangled demons

Time to fly in gloomy nightlight

Let our terror be all consuming

Horror! Horror! Is thy name

 

 

BeaSTiE bAbiEs   #3

 

When a beastie mates it salivates;

its demons blood of goo and mud

It squeaks, it squeals, it howls, it reeks

from passion dripping off its cheeks

It groans, it moans, it eats its bones

As its fangs rip and sink in its beastie stink

 

Beastie Babies crawl about

Beastie Babies sing and shout

Mommies lost and Daddies gone

Damned We Be! Alone We Suffer!

How can one scold us when no one will hold us?

 

When a beastie cries the child within dies

Darkness creeps in with nothing but sin

Malice takes hold; the heart turns ice cold

Humanity suffers as hell’s troops grow strong

For heaven abandoned the damned and its children

To wander the world with their hate made by fate

 

Beastie Mommies howl in anger and pain

Beastie Daddies show disgust and distain

Unsanctified unions brings lust and confusion

What need for a baby they just cause us more shame

How can one judge us when no one will love us?

 

When a beastie prays it’s for the end of all days

Total annihilation will bring relief and cessation      

For only in death will peace finally come

But Death in ITS Wisdom will make them live on forever

For they are ITS children without hope or a home

And though they’re forgotten, cursed, damned and alone

 

Humanity Needs Them to Show Which Road Leads To Hell

 

 

A Beastie Treat   #4

 

We like the taste of your button toed feet

They smell delicious and pungently sweet

Your legs are as soft as rain

It amuses us to hear you scream in pain

How dare you think us as cannibals!

Like some sick vicious and sadistic animals

Was it not you who had dreams of the dead?

Did you not willingly lay upon our crimson bed?

What did you think we would do-

groan and grunt together and be one with you? 

But in our own way that’s what we intend to do

To eat every last little bit of you

For GOD has given you to legion and mE-

and a human beastie you so shall forever be

 

In hell you’ll pay

In hell you’ll stay

Never again in light you’ll be

Only horror will you ever see

Damned you are, damned you’ll be

Damned forever and eternity

 

 

Feastie Beasties   #5

 

Now to bed,

Sleep deep, not lightly

For in the slumber

You’ll meet the dead

 

They prey upon

The weak and wounded

That’s what beasties

Feed and gnaw on

 

Think good thoughts,

While sleep is falling

Block the darkness;

Be not distraught

 

Don’t get caught

In nightmares fancy

Winged beasties posed as pixies

So enchanting much to chancy

 

Befalling heartache lay to rest

No need to join the dispossessed

Stay alert, not dark and dreary

While you sleep or you’ll pay dearly

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Only the Wicked do The Beasties Eat    #6

 

Little browns don’t make a sound

They prick our skin to make us frown

Yellow-greens hip hop around

They make our bellies jump up and down

But beastie reds crawl in our heads

While sleeping soundly on our beds

They eat and feast, devour whole

A little pocket within our soul

 

Oh daddy mommy what should I do

Don’t let the beasties eat me too

I’ll say my prayers and do my chores

Please protect me from there festered jaws

I’ll take a bath, clean beneath my ears

Don’t let them prey upon my fears

I’ll go to school and study hard

Keep them forever out my bed and yard

 

Misunderstood from children so

Only the wounded do we go

We hunt and feast of those our kind

Whose souls are twisted by Mankind

So tell your mommy and daddy too

To tell the truth about what we do

Fore if they don’t they’ll feel our wrath

And then you’ll need to take that bath

 

 

A beastie little beast    #7

 

What kind of beast

is this little beastie beast?

 

For as it stings it sadly sings

of many horrid little things

while it brings with it sickly death

on its scaly withered wings

 

In your sleep it will creep

Up your spine it will dine

It will lick on your bones

and suck up all your blood

It will bite through your heart

While it rips the soul apart

Its fetid breath stinks of death

For never will it rest

As it eats and it feasts

On its tasty little treats

 

Who is this 

little beastie beast’

who devours humankind

on those un-atoned brittle bones

by God’s deviously divine design

For it’s our sin that does us in

inviting the beast

that lies within

 

An abomination!

Our dark creation! 

 

Our very own

little beastie kin

 

 

 

 

 

The Beastie Shout   #8

 

we Beasties shout pout and grouse about

we like to howl growl and make things foul

our fun begins when you nod off to sleep

in your head we eat spit and bite till you weep 

as we weave our pretty nightmares for you to keep.

 

in your bed where you seem most like the dead

is where we feed and gnaw and play with your head

oh what fun it is to hear your screams

as we vomit bile into your once sweet dreams

 

we beasties laughs and sings as we do our beastie things

 

To hell we come

In hell we shout

This is what beasties are about

Our names are lost

And we are few

We need more blood

We’ve come for

 

YOU

 

 

 

 

A beasties interlude   #9

 

The little beastie sings

Lots of awful things

It’s in my head

On my bed

My eyes

Ears

It crawls

In my nose

It bites my toes

Sucking up my blood

While eating at my fears

 

 

 

 

A Beasties Carol   #10

 

it’s such a ghastly,

grisly, brutal,

thing

when the little beasties

sing, bite, and sting

 

 

bugaboos and bugabees

tiny bugs, bloated slugs

 

crawling, creeping,

never sleeping,

gnawing, goring

some are snoring,

others falling,

all are feeding,

forever needing,

eating, seething,

always breeding

fear and loathing

is their calling

 

 

 

peek a boo

peek about

beastie in

beastie out

between the cracks

on the floor

in the dirt

behind the door

don’t let them in

sweep them out

close the door

dig out the dirt

seal the cracks

prevent attacks

 

 

before they bite

 

and sting

 

and sing

 

of dastardly dank and darkly things

 

as they grouse, feast, and dance about

and hip, hip hop and SHOUT

 

You better Watch Out

You better not lie

You better not cheat

I’m Telling You why

The Beasties are a coming

Yes, the Beasties are a coming

------To ToWN-----

 

And they’re very, very Hungry…

 

 

~Burp~

 

 

 

Beastie Mommy   #11

 

 

In the cold breath of moonlit night

beasties howl in crescent light

crawly creepies weeping shrieking

shivering quivering slithering withering

wing torn dragons scarred and broken

moaning groaning sighing writhing

shadow dandies cringe in horror

growing floating bloating exploding

bellies flopping hip hop hopping never stopping

sin is fading

evil waning

as

beastie babies and all their kin

burn away in luminosity’s  might

 

but never fear my beastie dears

for it’s only just a brief respite-

 

for come the morrow

on and after

the mommy beastie

hums and waits

till

dimming of the

moonlit moon

lays its eggs in dim dark corners

weaving webs around our hearts

making light fade into darkness

where beastie babies swarm about

singing and stinging and doing their shout…

 

 

~Thanks Mommy~

 

 

 

 

 

Beastie Bones   #12

 

Dirty bones

Unread tomes

Double sin

Rotting skin

Burnt and broken

Words not spoken

Misused knowledge

Beastie College

Horror hoorah hooray

Our souls we sold away

Moonlight swim

Bedtime dim

Hollow be thy way



authors note: These are my beasties poems-a dark little piece of fun- I love writing these and hope to continue them as long as my dark muse is willing.


till next time

bob

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Snapshot Confessions
[info]weavemaker
snapshot confessions
Lena, Francisco and all who have took a interest in my fractured writing.



It's always a delight to hear from you both. My dearest Lena has been a great source of inspiration to me over the years. I drew My Lilith out of Lena's bones as my Lucifina came from Tina's; Two of my ardent believers and supporters of my Creation Epic. But Lena was an early supporter of my earlier work (My Circle Poems) which inspired me to write the Tangled Tapestry. Her encouragement and delight in my poems pushed me to complete them. She also thought I could go beyond poetry and delve into fiction writing. Up to that point I never gave fiction or creative writing a thought. I mainly wrote poetry and philosophical essays. I always had this story in my head but never bothered to write it down thinking that I didn't have the writing chops for such a task. But Lena made me think that maybe I did and the birth of the Tapestry took Place. She fired up my muse. She also was a catalyst in these snapshots. These snapshots came from one of my poems "Apocalyptic Moments" it was a surreal piece about the itsy bitsy spider. In a case of serendipity Lena posted one of her paintings "the Scarlet Dancer"¨ which was a perfect illustration of my poem. This fueled me to expand on the poem- to create a world from it.

These snapshots are a sort of back page to the Tangled Tapestry. They are about the end creation- the final conflict- the unweaving of the Tapestry. These like the Tangled Tapestry have become my life passion. They will take years to compose but I'm in no hurry. I¡¦ve been writing (Tangled Tapestry) and related stuff for four years now-I'm a painfully slow writer- My apologies to those who wanted to see the ending of the first part-but it's still in my head and will be put to paper soon. I need three or four chapters to finish the Adam and Eve part. The Greenfire tapestry directly relates to them I just need to work out a believable endgame to part one. Writing can be quite painful for me but the end result is worth it. It has to resonate deep within me to write it down. These characters are a part of me- I hear them speak and laugh within my mind. I intend on writing Part 11- where I can create my version of hell as well as rewriting the Troy myth (Greek and Roman Myths) and the rise and fall of the gods (the Norse myths). Part III will deal with the Jewish and Christian myths. Very ambitious to be sure and years and years to complete. . My appendix's (snapshots and indivual stories (my dragons, Cain etc) and some of my essays which I try to incorporate into the tapestry world)

I do enjoy hearing from Francisco- His take on my stuff is very similar to Tina¡¦s. The only difference is that he enjoys being scared to wits end. She barley Read my circle Poems. But she did. They were quite dark and scary for her tastes. The Tapestry captured her imagination (less dark) and she became my biggest supporter and fan. Knowing that someone enjoys your work is a pure joy- it lifts and encourages you to continue on the journey.

As for publishing them, hopefully when I'm completely done with the final draft of part one. I have a lot of rewriting to do-formatting, chopping and such. That alone will take a few years. I would like to have it published by a house rather than self. But I may have to self publish- A lot of the poems and chapters have been published on the net-killing first rights which is not a plus when you want to get it published in the traditional way. But publishing it is not the reason that  I'm writing it. It's to put down my take on the Nature of God. I've been a student of religious history and philosophy most of my life and always wanted to set the record according to my vision- I¡¦m an arrogant and blasphemous dilettante. My work is a niche work (for the spiritually and philosophically open-minded)- many of the devout and traditionally religious would throw it in the trash and call it the devils work. The devil is so misunderstoodƒº-

I thank you for reading and commenting on my passion and reading this little confession.


Note: This was written at Lit.Org- It was a comment on my snapshot # 5 - I liked what I wrote about the tapestry and snapshots so I put in here in the journal.

till next time

bob




Apocalyptic Snapshots # 5
[info]weavemaker

Apocalyptic Snapshots # 5

 

 

 

~doubt~

leap of faith
waking from a dream
nothing left to do but die

~fear~

free fall into a black hole
calm before the storm
the beast waits

~hope~

a choice
sinner or saint
the apple or the seed
embrace illusions tapestry
free will

deep in the jaws of hell will you find heaven
and to your surprise you come to realize
that they are both one in the same…

(Inscription found on Hell Tablet G, attributed to be the words of Lilith-Queen of the Hell Realms)





The Sorceress, Tessa Del Bellasuna, known by the masses as The ‘Blue Dolphin’ felt the weight of the world thrust upon her shoulders without the abbess’s wisdom and counsel to administer to her needs. Two moon cycles had past since Alucia Delecourt, The High Priestess and Abbess of the Dolphenian Order, disappeared into the Hell Gate Tapestry. Tessa was fully aware that the Tick Tick Tock of Time was a fluid thing between tapestry to tapestry and what was two monthly cycles to her could be but a minute or even a second to the Abbess. Knowing this did not alleviate the sense of foreboding that invaded her being the second Alucia stepped into that damnable tapestry contaminated by hells dust. The thought of her being lost forever in Hells Embrace constantly gnawed and chewed away at her mind. She should have never allowed it but how could one say no to the shadow ghost of the One that is She. Tessa’s meditative reverie was cut short as the Vaults alarms came to life. A tickle of hope; that the High Priestess had returned from the Tapestry Quest, tingled through her fingers. Alucia must have succeeded in her quest and found the Greenfire Tapestry. Now ultimate power and the destiny of all the Tapestry Holds would be controlled by the Dolphonic Order. She headed toward the Vault Room like a giddy school girl anticipating her lovers embrace. All of her giddiness and dreams of glory quickly evaporated as she entered the room. She found the Vault Doors askew and the chamber hall dark and unguarded. The musky scent of male sweat invaded her nostrils. In the corner of the room perched in a lotus position was her arch nemesis, former lover from a bygone time, as well as brother and kin, The Red Cockroach, also known as Jeddiah Sendalay of the Morningstorm Clan.

 

 

Appendix C of The Tangled Tapestry



Apocalyptic Snapshots # 4
[info]weavemaker

Apocalyptic Snapshots #4




Rabbit Holes and a Tea Party for Old Nick

Take your shoes off before diving into the mud;
and make sure your socks are made of nylon

Rabbit Holes and a Tea Party for Old Nick

Sing those hosannas and halleluiahs to the Lord when you lie and cheat;
for hypocrites are the pillars of the community

Rabbit Holes and a Tea Party for Old Nick

Puff away on the magic pipe and juice up the veins with dream candy;
the Jack of Spades carjacks the King of Hearts and fondles his Queen

Rabbit Holes and a Tea Party for Old Nick

A blow to the head and a little duct tape on the mouth;
why pay for it when you can get it free

Rabbit Holes and a Tea Party for Old Nick

“Off with their heads” shouted the holocaust deniers and jihad criers;
as 100,000 Virgins swallowed the keys to their chastity belts

Rabbit Holes and a Tea Party for Old Nick

The rabbit jumps back into his hole and is eaten by the Fox
Old Nick’s Tea Party was a wild success

(psalm 999 from the roachcerian scriptures)


 The Ice slowly melts and evaporates within the wailing winds-It cracks and moans above and below Me – the deep and comforting cold no longer numbs and sooths My festering wounds - into the ice I sink no more and begin to rise up from the depths of My healing tomb- the day of judgment will soon be at hand and My Wrath against those who have gnawed upon My Bones will be merciless…

The Great Monk used his considerable willpower and strength of mind to break away and disconnect himself from the dream thrall before it overtook him completely. Lately, he had been finding it was becoming more spiritually and mentally draining, as well as physically painful, to return- with his identity intact- to the waking world of his reality. The Dark Lords Dream Thoughts and the landscape of His Self-Imposed prison were becoming as real and vivid to him as his own. He knew his time as Santo Nicola, was drawing to a close; as it was only a matter of time before his True Identity would manifest itself and consume the false one -He- made to protect the true Nature of what he truly was. The Great Monk found himself back in his meditation chamber soaked in his own blood and sweat and aching from head to toe but was relieved to find that his humanity was still intact. Before the inevitable happened, he needed time to fulfill his destiny and set things on the natural path by locating the Greenfire Tapestry; as only one soaked in humanity and blessed with the veil of ignorance can do…       


Fire
hell’s bane God’s flame
brimstone ashes and dust
burnt corpses dead grins and tainted
Smoke

Hailstones
dragons breath; death
sickly winds frozen sin
the mighty beast lies trapped within
The Ice

But It lives and…

It Sings
of ghastly things
to the beat of its horrid wings

It Weeps
and never sleeps
as blood and scum drips off its fiendish cheeks

On traitors bones
that rotted meat
does it eat and eat and eat

(from the book of Legends, Lies and Myths about Hell and the Morningstar)





"Appendix C of the Tangled Tapestry"



Apocalyptic Snapshots # 3
[info]weavemaker

take a deep breath

hold it- hold it-  now slowly

Exhale

Don’t you taste it?

Don’t you smell it?

Can’t you feel it boiling
and bubbling inside of you

Purge yourself from evils taint ~

Take a dive headfirst
Into the clear sparkling waters
of judgment and redemption
and drown in its purity and innocence

and if you survive its cleansing
you shall then become part of the
chosen few

-The Redeemed-The Soldiers of God-

whose mandate is to

Cleanse the World

of its

Enemies
and the evil
that they bring


(from the  “Book of the Dolphin” attributed  to the  Dolphonic Sorceress, Tessa Del Bellasuna , also known as the Blue Dolphin)



Jeddiah awoke from his death sleep choking and gasping. The air in the sarcophagus was nearly depleted and if he didn’t receive a fresh supply soon; his death would turn from  hoax to reality. Never one to panic; he slowed his breathing and lowered his heart-rate and mentally chanted one of his favorite Mantras, “what is done is done what will be will be” and awaited his fate, be it death, or continued life. As he was near his last breath his thoughts drifted to a time when his mind was clear of the visions and voices that dictated his movements and actions and when the burdens of the world were on someone else’s shoulders. A faint smile formed on his lips, and a tear fell from his eye, as he remembered dancing and making love in the moonlight with his Krista, and both thinking that they would be together till the end of their days. But fairytales do end and his ended on the day he met the Black Monk. If only he was something other than what he was? He would then have been spared that fateful meeting and instead of a life filled with constant struggle and conflict; he would have had a happy and contented one with the love of his life.   

He was startled back into the present as he felt a rush of air invade his nostrils and saw the Black Monk, Santo Nicola, standing before him. Before he could say anything the Monk lifted him out of the sarcophagus, laid him down on the floor and unwrapped from his body the preservative cloth that bound and covered him from head to toe. “That was a close one; those damn idiots wrapped you too tight and barely left an opening for you to breathe”. Jeddiah could only nod in agreement as his head was still mummy wrapped. Finally free of his bindings and able to breathe freely again he stood up on wobbly feet and gave the Black Monk a quick hug and said,” I thought I was about to meet my makers in Hell and for a split second I was even looking forward to it “.  The Monk gave Jeddiah a quizzical look as well as a cuff on the head and said, “You would have received a chilly reception by coming in as a defeated prophet, empty handed or without knowledge of where the Greenfire Tapestry is hidden. My dear child, I know you feel the weight of the world is on your shoulders and you think that it is crushing you, but that cannot be helped, for you are what you are, The Prophet.  It is written in the weave, it’s your destiny.”   Jeddiah Sendalay of the Morningstorm Clan, also known as The Red Cockroach, shrugged his shoulders and asked the Black Monk to open the portal to Avalon. It was time that he and his nemesis (the Blue Dolphin) met face to face…




Apocalyptic Snapshots #3 (Appendix C of he Tangled Tapestry)





Apocalyptic Snapshots # 2
[info]weavemaker

Apocalyptic Snapshots #2      (An apocalyptic promise)





Into the Ice I sink

And think
And sink
And think
And sink
And think

But when I heal from My Wounds
and swim out from under the Ice
My Hammer will strike at the Heart of the World
And in My absence,
those who chewed upon
My Sinew and Bone
Will be no more…

Tic Tock
Tic Tock
Tic Tock
Tic Tock
Tic Tock


(Inscription found on Hell Tablet S, attributed to be the words of Lucifer of the Morningstar)

The Dolphenian Abbess, Alucia Delecourt, unlocked the vault door that led into the secret crypts that housed the ancient tablets and tapestries. She took a deep breath, exhaled, fired up the torch, and began her mile long descent down the ancient rune stone. Her feet were well versed in navigating the treacherous steps, (made from gems, stone and materials unknown) that spiraled sharply downward in a dizzying series of twists and turns that only the brave of heart or fanatic would attempt. She cursed herself for wearing sandals as each step that she took, produced an echo that cascaded off of the other; creating the effect of a thousand marching feet pounding away at her eardrums. After what seemed like days, rather then hours, she finally found herself on level ground in front of the monolithic gates, (also made from gems, stone and materials unknown) that were the entranceway into the “Great Halls of Forbidden Knowledge”. She put her right hand in the designated spot and whispered the words of incantation whereby the gates creaked and groaned and slowly opened. As she walked through the gates the darkened hallways sprang to life with light. She unlit the torch and put it back in use as her walking stick and rod of power and headed towards the chamber that hung the “Hell Gate Tapestry” and it’s accompanying Tablets. Of the Twelve Great Tapestry’s that hung in these chamber rooms she was near certain that the “Hell Gate Tapestry” held the answers  to the whereabouts as well as the how and the means to safely retrieve  the “Thirteenth Tapestry”. Ultimate Power and Control was within her grasp.  She opened the chamber door and entered. As she touched the Tapestry a shiver went through her spine as she felt the bitter chill of the winds and ice in the ninth level of Hell. She took a deep breath    and entered into its weave…..




Appendix C of the "Tangled Tapestry"




Apocalyptic Snapshots # 1
[info]weavemaker

Authors Note: I need to give a little back-story to the Flash pieces that I intend to post.  I've been writing a novel (An Epic Poem of sorts done in prose and poetry)  for the past few years called the Tangled Tapestry. It's essentially A creation myth - a paganistic view of creation and the many different aspects of GOD.  The main storyline  is to be done in three books- The creation-The rise and fall of the Gods- The reign of the Desert God till modern times. I've also written and continue to write what I call Appendix's to the Tangled Tapestry. Appendix C deals with the End Times. Its based on a surreal poem that I wrote a few years back called Apocalyptic Moments. These are all directly related to the main work.   I intend to write 66 flash pieces concerning these end times. So far I have written only four (I'm a damn slow writer).




as the walls came tumbling down
an itsy bitsy spider weaved its web
amongst the bug infested ruins of Armageddon
whilst the last rites of the red cockroach
(administered by mealy mouth maggots
whispering sanctimonious platitudes)
sent the faithful into a frenzy of despair

in the clear sparkling waters of heaven
an itsy bitsy spider laid its colorless eggs
amongst the pristine ruins of Avalon
whilst the coronation  of the blue dolphin
(administered by God obsessed virgins
singing songs of jubilee)
signaled to the faithful that rapture was at hand

in the cold dark corridors of hell
the itsy bitsy spider gave a halleluiah shout
as it crawled back into the bloated belly of the beast

it’s the small things in life that go unnoticed…

(excerpt from the journals of "the four horseman of the apocalypse")




Apocalyptic snapshots # 1




The Setting:  The End Times

The Place:     The Ruins of Armageddon

The Players:  The disciples Moseffa and Casapolis

The Conflict: The Death of the Red Cockroach



Moseffa:    Now our work begins. I feel a thrill in these tired bones.

Casapolis:  How can you say such a thing! The prophet is dead, plague and pestilence has wiped out most of our armies, our cities have been plundered by the false prophet’s dogs and when once we were the hunters, we’ve now become the hunted. This is our darkest hour and I fear the work has died with Him.

Moseffa:     How can you be so blind? His death is our beginning. His teachings are a map to power, truth and glory; and we hold the keys to its treasure. Out from the ash and flame we will rise like the phoenix and build a bigger and better garden to play and frolic in. This is our moment in time and we need to stay awake in order to manipulate its outcome.

Casapolis:  We’re being hunted to extinction and you’re talking about new beginnings. The master died before he revealed all His teachings and secrets. He sketched us an outline on the work, not a full drawing. What are we to do and say to those who still follow the Way of the Cockroach.

Moseffa:    We’ll just fill in the blanks and say what’s in our hearts. The rest will come as it comes.

Casapolis:  You live amongst the clouds and the dreams that weaved them. You look upon the reality before you as if it were a mirage. You accept the obstacles and the horror we continue to face as a matter of course and a way to a means. We need a better plan for us to survive the coming days.

Moseffa:    So make us a plan so that we may live these coming days; for you see the road before us now: while I see the road miles ahead.  These are exciting times and only those with a warrior’s heart will survive.  My bones are exceedingly thrilled as the new dawn approaches

Cosapolis:  My bones are depressingly chilled for the coming days ahead.

Moseffa:   Let’s do the work.

Capaolis:  We’re doing it now…


(excerpts from recordings and dairies found in the personal library of The Great Monk, Santo  Nicola)






{Appendix C of “The Tangled Tapestry”}         

 




bob callaci

       



Appendix E of the "Tangled Tapestry"
[info]weavemaker

Some more tapestry journels:


Authors note: For those waiting on the next installment (chapter xxxi) of the Tapestry I can assure you I’m working on it with due diligence and it will be out in a short while. Lucifer is itching to unfurl His wings…

 

 

It was while writing the 31st chapter where the idea emerged to add an appendix (A-J) to the tapestry. For the longest time  I wanted to find a feasible way to integrate some of  my speculative philosophical ramblings (A Conversation on Free Will, The Flow of Time, and other various nuggets) that I’ve written-into the body of the tapestry. Putting them in the main body of work was out of the question as they would just stall and drag down the story. I needed to find a framework that would make them fit into the weave of the work.

I found such a framework (The Appendix) and used the landscape of my poem, “Apocalyptic Moments”, (that leads off the 31st chapter of my continuing tale) as the place and time from whence these writings came from. 

 

as the walls came tumbling down
an itsy bitsy spider weaved its web
amongst the bug infested ruins of Armageddon
whilst the last rites of the red cockroach
(administered by mealy mouth maggots
whispering sanctimonious platitudes)
sent the faithful into a frenzy of despair

in the clear sparkling waters of heaven
an itsy bitsy spider laid its colorless eggs
amongst the pristine ruins of Avalon
whilst the coronation of the blue dolphin
(administered by God obsessed virgins
singing songs of jubilee)
signaled to the faithful that rapture was at hand

in the cold dark corridors of hell
the itsy bitsy spider gave a halleluiah shout
as it crawled back into the bloated belly of the beast

it’s the small things in life that go unnoticed…

 

I intend to write a series of short stories and flash pieces, based on this poem, about the end of the third and final age of man and put them into the history section of the appendix along with my speculative writings.  In this poem it seems as if the Beast won- but nothing is as it seems…

 

The Great Monk, Santo Nicola, (Lucifer in human form) is the trusted spiritual advisor to the “Red Cockroach” (the Anti-Christ) in this distant or near future age. Ah! but this is a  tale for another time …

 

 

I wrote “A Conversation on Free Will” about seven years ago on an internet site dedicated to esoteric topics. I’ve since rewrote and punched up parts of it to fit into the tapestry but the overall content and message of the piece remains the same. On one level the Tapestry is one big chess match between Lucifer, Lucifina, Death and their offspring. I believe this piece is quite relevant to the “Tangled Tapestry”….   

 

APPENDIX (E)

 

(Excerpts of The Great Monk Santo Nicolas’s unfinished manuscript and recordings on the conversations He had with the Dolphenian Abbess, Alucia Delecourt, concerning Free Will, Time Streams and other matters of interest)

 

* found amongst the ruins of Avalon by the acolytes of the Red Cockroach

 

 

A CONVERSATION ON FREE WILL

 

 

Part I

THE SKETCH




The Abbess: Free can have a lot of different meanings. Monetary free? Or perhaps Freedom? Etc..... When I use it in the term "free will" I am trying to express that I believe we possess a freedom to choose our actions. I also believe with this freedom comes responsibility. I think if we did not have this freedom then we could not be culpable for any actions we make, or would the idea of personal responsibility mean a thing. It would be a useless concept as far as I am concerned.

The Monk: humph !WELLLLLLLLLLL ! I don't think so. There is nothing in the word "FREE" that is free. What the hell is really free? Free! It‘s a word wrought with illusion. Anything of worth---comes with a price…



WHAT'S IN A WORD

I never was comfortable with the term "Free Will." The implication of free will implies that we have unlimited freedom aided by the use of our will in the choices and decisions that we make: That we are free to make our own destiny and not pay the devil heR due. As stated above "what the hell is free," is anything really free? The word free implies no cost, while in reality free entails great cost and limits one's choices significantly. I will attempt in the next few paragraphs to explain my views on this topic and to clarify and expound in more depth what I perceive the function of freewill to be.

CHESS ANYONE

In order to play chess one needs to be familiar with the basic rules and the fundamental goals and objectives of the game. One needs to learn how each piece moves through the board. Each class of pieces (king, queen, bishops, knights, rooks and pawns) has specific and set functions on the way they interact and move on the board. They have defined and UN-refutable rules on what choices of moves they can or cannot make. There are four primary choices or moves that the player needs to be aware of in order for him/her to play the game with some efficiency: The open move, The closed move, the forced move and the dead move.

1) The Open Move: These are the open spaces of the board. Each piece moves in the accordance of their set functions. These are the moves that can be made within the confines of the game. Nothing is blocking that space, one is free to move in any space one wishes as long as that space is open. It may be a good move or a bad move or an indifferent move that's of really no concern, but one must have an open space to move in order to proceed to the next move in search of another open move. To put it more simply, these are moves that can be done by following and adhering to the natural laws of the game.

2) The Closed Move: These are the closed spaces of the board. These are the moves that cannot be made within the confines of the game. The space is blocked or not accessible to that particular piece. For example; A closed move to a pawn would be moving to a side or back space in the beginning or middle part of the game. A pawn can only move forward to an empty space or diagonally one space for a kill. All other moves are closed. The closed move can become open and the pawn can take the role of the queen and increase the amount of open spaces if he can reach the end space of the opposing side and transform his power base. His function has changed but the rules that govern him has not. A closed move can then be said to be a possibility as a open move but one only in a future sense as an open move is a possibility in the now sense but can very well turn in to a closed move in the future or could have been one as well as in the past.

3) The Forced move: This is where there is only one space to move to. No other choice or option remains open. To move to any other space would be suicidal. Your moves are not in your control but are at the mercy of another. A forced move can turn into an open move with a little bit of skill on your part and a bit of misjudgment on the one that lead you into the forced space. Turning the forced move into a closed move is checkmate.

4) The Dead Move: These are the moves that defy and negate the natural laws and rules of the game. A king cannot move like a queen and if the king does so then the game that is played is not chess but some mutation. These moves are what I would call delusional moves that lead only to dead ends.

ROBOTS ARE PEOPLE TO

When one just learns how to play chess one moves all over the board without any particular direction in mind. If the opposing player is at a higher level then the beginner that player then can easily anticipate the moves of the beginner and direct the beginners moves, and for all intent and purposes making them forced moves. To the novice he sees all these possible choices, and dives into these open moves with a dim picture of where they will take him. He thinks his choices are his own but we know better don't we?

As the beginner becomes a journeymen and the journeymen becomes an expert and the expert becomes a master his undirected will as a beginner turns to directed will as a master. He has a clear vision of the board; he can plan ten moves ahead and direct the opponents moves to his advantage. He wastes no moves, he knows when closed moves will open and when open moves will close. The more proficient he becomes; the less choice he needs to make. Here ends my chess analogy.

DIRECTED AND UNDIRECTED WILL

The Abbess: Having no "free will" relegates who we are, and what we have to offer as holding no special significance. Perhaps this is the "problem of perception that is at the root of almost all our misunderstandings as human beings?"

It is a wishful thinker who believes their actions are chosen for them, and that nothing they do has universal impact or consequences. It is a wishful, lazy person who believes they become actualized/aware/conscious without personal effort, preparation, participation, or consent in the process.

The Monk: The more clearly our vision the deeper our understanding becomes of the space that we occupy, therefore; the less choice’s we need or have to make. The less clear our vision, the less we understand the space that we occupy therefore the more choices we need to make. Most of them will be wasteful and more will be wrong rather then right. Directed will is being aware of the moves that we should avoid and the moves we should take. Knowing which open move to go too, becoming aware when a closed move becomes open, and when faced with a forced move knowing how to make it open. The more directed your will becomes the more able you are to be in control of your life rather then having someone or thing direct it for you. Free will is undirected will, it gives us the illusion that we are in control of our lives, our destiny, while in reality we jump into a series of forced moves that puts us to sleep at the wheel. Free will is not free, it limits our real choices, it makes us lazy and fat. There’s no such thing as a free ride.




Part II

FLESHING IT OUT


The Abbess: ~ In your analogy, the opposing players represent who or what? ~I am having some trouble discerning who the master player/s might represent considering their clear view, and future knowledge, and who the opponent/s might represent? I think I understand pretty well your view, but it would really help me understand it even more if you could clarify these details in your sketch for me.

The Monk:
On a literal level: chess players
On a historical level: Us
On a psychological level: Self
On a spiritual level: The knower and the UN knower, the wounded and the healed
On a social Level: The reader determines what it represents for themselves.

The Abbess: Can humans be turned into these omniscient master chess players? Or, is God the master chess player?

The Monk: The chess master or any master is not omniscient or all knowing (let’s leave that to GOD) or if one thinks that they are then they are in what I call a dead move or in a state of delusional thinking. In the case of the chess master for him to have reached that level he had to go to many stages and transitions, playing thousand upon thousands of games, studying and honing his craft. From trial and error, determination and commitment and intense focus he learns the strategies, the nuances and the natural flow of the game. He has a clear picture of the board; he and the board are part of each other. Does he manipulate his opponent into forced moves, Of course he does-- the purpose of the game is to win? Can he lose? Of course he can-- but it’s not about winning or losing, it truly is about how well you play and how true you are to the game

The Abbess: ~How does the undirected will of the beginner "turn into" a directed will of a master? Does it automatically happen over time? Or, is this a silly question because our destiny is our destiny, and a master has no choice but to be a master?

The Monk: By slowly waking up to your surroundings and becoming aware about where you are. It happens step by step, nothing miraculous about it. You need to want to learn, to grow, to heal, and to love. It takes physical, mental, emotional and spiritual strength. No, it does not happen automatically, you have to want it, need it and be open to it. Our destiny is what we make of it by the choices we take and don't take. We have a choice to live in forced moves and to bleed from our wounds and be happy in our ignorance or to transcend our ignorance and go to the next level.

The Abbess: I can only hope that’s not my destiny to be a master player in your chess game.

The Monk: I'm sorry to hear that. It would be a fun match.

The Abbess: If I played your chess game I would hope my destiny was to be one of
those poor novice saps who did not know every possible move, who lacked the ability to see and predict every future move of my opponent, who did not have full control and power to manipulate and force my opponent to move where I would always have the advantage, who could still be surprised while ignorantly thinking I am freely responding spontaneously and authentically to unanticipated/unknown moves. At least it would be more interesting, worthwhile, vulnerable, and emotionally exciting for me to actually play the game, rather than just sitting back watching the game play itself out knowing the outcome is that I will always win, and my opponent will be successfully manipulated by me to lose.

The Monk: And I rather be the chess master who beats and manipulates “the poor sap“, for that is the choice “the poor sap” chooses to make. As I stated before the chess master does not know all but he knows much. The game always changes, the outcome is never the same, and although the master would always beat “the poor sap” and know the outcome of that game, he would still take joy in the game. Ignorance is bliss as the saying goes, but once the apple has been tasted, ignorance loses it shine.


The Abbess: Will the objective of the master be the same as it was as a novice, or is it possible that a paradigm shift might have occurred while in process? If a paradigm shift takes place would this mean there is more than one choice for the master to make, even with awakened knowledge?

The Monk: The master/novice objective: To be aware on how, when, and where, one moves and does not move through the spaces that one moves and does not move through. The preparation and identification definitions that are defined and understood by the master and are undefined and not realized by the novice. The objective is the same for both, that does not change, but the perspective and the level of understanding that each has, on what it is to be aware, and on how, when, and where does one move, and not move, are not the same. There is always more then one choice to make for the master. He's not just confined to one choice, limited to one action, directed to one particular space over any other space. He is aware, awake and open to all the moves that can and need to be made, as well as those that cannot and don't need to be made. His approach, perspective and understanding differs from the other levels in how he views the connection, inter-changeability and mutuality of the moves within the spaces and the spaces within the moves. All the moves and spaces are totally connected; can be changed from one to another, and one is of the same mutuality as the other. To put in less obtuse terms: When one chooses to become a master player one embarks on a set of moves with a multitude of variations and possibilities that may differ in approach, perspective, and understanding between say that of a chess player and a checker player. Even the how, when, and where or the basic precepts one needs in understanding which moves to go too will help you understand why you went there. It will enable you to see the bigger picture from the smaller one and with that comes the realization that the smaller and the bigger are variations of the same thing: That all the spaces and moves are really one space and move. It may differ in execution, structure, and form, but one thing remains constant: Your CHOICE to become a Master Player.   

 

There was only one choice to be made if one wanted to become a master chess player and that was choosing to become a master chess player. From that choice a whole set of moves and choices will evolve and unfold. One needs to be an expert before one becomes a master-One must choose to become an expert and from that choice a whole set of moves and choices will evolve and enfold-One needs to be a journeymen before one can become an expert-One must choose to be a journeymen and from that choice a whole set of moves and choices will evolve and enfold-One needs to be a novice before one can become a journeymen, expert or master and from that choice a whole set of moves and choices will evolve and enfold. You only have really two choices at each level to choose from, to choose or not to choose to become a novice, journeymen, expert and master. Each choice that you choose from at each level will determine which set of moves that will go in motion and which that will not. And when one is at the master level, the master realizes that there was only one choice that led him to the set of moves and spaces that made him a master. If he made any other choice other then choosing to be a master then he would have been something other then a master. All the spaces led to one space and all the moves became one move. In the one there is the many and in the many there is the one and the master swims through each.


The Abbess: Are you saying the master players and opponent players are all interchangeable on all these levels?

The Monk: Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. The novice and the journeymen, the journeymen and the expert, the expert and the master, the master and the novice, the expert and the expert, the challenger and the opponent ... many variations and combinations all interchangeable, all various aspects of each other, all moving simultaneously within the spaces that they occupy.

In the novice, the journeymen, expert and master are hidden, blocked, unexpressed, in a frozen and still state, lying dormant within the novice. As the novices attempts to move he first needs to know where, when and how to move. He cannot differentiate between an open, closed, forced or dead move. It seems to him that he has many choices; that he is free to move within any space that he desires. But in reality his choices are limited, he first needs to know where and where not too move. He then needs to know when and when not too move. Lastly he needs to know how and how not too move. These are the basic precepts he must learn before he even takes a step in order to be able to differentiate to what even constitutes what is and what is not a space before he even makes a choice on which move to take. If he's unwilling or unable or impatient or inattentive or just plain lazy in not trying to learn the importance, value and necessity of learning and grasping these fundamental precepts, then the only moves he will be able to make are forced moves that lead only to dead moves. As he learns and integrates these precepts within the confines of the space that he occupies then he is able to understand that he can only move to the surrounding spaces that border along his space rather than moving to any space that he chooses. The journeyman within him has become unblocked and makes himself visible. The novice has now learned all that the novice needed to learn in order to precede to the next level and now integrates, ascends and transcends into the Journeymen who proceeds to move among the surrounding spaces that border on his space.

In the journeymen the expert and master are hidden, blocked and unexpressed in a semi-frozen and restless state, soundly sleeping within the journeymen; who is also the novice. By having an understanding of the where, when and how to move within the spaces that surround him and having differentiated between what is a space and not a space he is now better attuned to identify an open move from a closed one and a forced one from a dead one. His choices are more limited then before but the quality of those choices; have more content and meaning then that of the novice. His need is to find out which move to go to. Rather then choosing randomly like that of the novice without any constructive thought where one was going, the journeymen now knows that their are a particular set of choices to choose from that lead to other sets of choices. Although he may be able to identify the moves he still does not understand which move to choose that would be advantageous. Any open move is as good as another for he relies on luck and chance to help him throw the dice, and like the novice he jumps into the spaces he moves to without knowing where the next space would leave him. Luck can only take you so far and chance cannot be counted on-but if the journeymen learns to identify and navigate out of the forced move that leads to closed and dead moves he can then move on to the next level. The expert within him awakens. Like the novice the journeyman now ascends, transcends and integrates into the expert who proceeds to map out his moves beyond the surrounding spaces that border on his space.

In the expert only the master remains hidden, held down with a firm hand in a thawed state dreaming of what it would be like to be awake. The expert who is also the journeymen and the novice moves more securely within his space and the spaces around him. He has a deeper understanding and an intuitive grasp of where, when, and how to move within the spaces and clearly differentiates between an active and non-active space. He sees and knows the moves for what they are and most of the time he knows which move to take. The expert can visualize a few spaces ahead and mostly chooses the open space that is more advantageous. He doesn't rely on chance and luck as did the journeymen although he does take those into consideration when considering a move, but he relies on the depth of his knowledge, intuition and skill when deciding which move to make. His choices are now more lucid and limited for he understands the why of the move. He knows why an open move can turn into a forced move and how a forced move can turn back into an open move or when a closed move becomes open and when an open one can become closed. His will becomes more directed, he becomes more alert, awake and joyful.

The master within him arises. The master awakes and the expert transcends, ascends and integrates into the master now fully alive, all that was hidden is now fully manifest. The expert, the journeyman and the novice have woken the master within and they embrace each other as one in the same. The master now knows what he knows and does not know. What he can know and cannot know. What he can do and cannot do. Where he can go and cannot go. He sees all the moves, the open move, the closed move, the dead move and the forced move as one Open move and all the active and non-active spaces as one Space. His will is fully directed, fully alert, and fully alive. He dances and laughs with joy and among the dancers we find the journeyman, the novice and the expert trying to keep up with the beat. So the master descends and integrates with each as the dance continues on ...
















 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Branches and Roots of the "Tangled Tapestry"
[info]weavemaker
I've decided to put all things "Tapestry" related in this journal- I'm still writing the 33rd chapter as well as apocalyptic snapshots-an end piece.  I've been in a block of sorts but in time the ending will come to Part I and I'll continue on to complete the next 28 flash pieces of snapshots.  I'm in no rush to publish and it doesn't matter to me if this takes years. Already I've been writing this for four years. Surely this is an ambitious project but one that I relish and hope to write for many years to come.

Here is a piece I wrote over a year ago explaining where my ideas concerning the Tangled Tapestry took root-


Before I continue on with the next chapter of this little cosmic tale of mine, I need first to go back to the beginning and attempt to explain the reasoning and influences that spurred on this work. I’m doing it for those who have already read parts of this tale as well as for those who haven’t yet read a word in order that they may get a better understanding of the meaning behind the work, as well as sharing in the creative process along with this author. I realize this may be a conceit of mine but my original intention aside from posting a rough draft of the tapestry was also to write about the process of the writing of it as well. In the next few postings I intend to write a detailed synopsis and commentary of the 1st Part as well as an outline of the next 2 parts that’s partially sketched out in my mind. In this essay I will layout the foundations that had a hand in creating the Tangled Tapestry and a preface that introduces the work.

 

 

THE FOUNDATIONAL BLOCKS AND INFLUENCES OF THE TANGLED TAPESTRY

 

 

Like thousands of other self proclaimed writers and poets I’ve always been drawn to the darker shades and etchings of humanity. Temptation, desire and the seven dark flavors of sin that Mankind feeds upon is fodder and drink for the writer’s ink. Desire, temptation and sin are the arrows, knives and bullets that can either lead us to damnation, salvation, negation or liberation. It’s the different influences, experiences, education and mindset (spiritual or otherwise) of the individual writer that determines what type of interpretation one puts on those darker shades and etchings. As for myself I’m considered somewhat of a magical thinking science and logic loving existentialistic pagan breathing agnostic, a conundrum and a bit of a contradiction to be sure, but nothing is ever truly all black and white or even the ubiquitous gray, but only shades and hues of those pervasive two and its composite. My Novel, “The Tangled Tapestry “ is my interpretation on how the dark and light layers weave and interact together to create one sprawling intricate web of creation out of the nothingness of GOD.

 

 

Nothing is ever created in a vacuum (or so the physicists say) or by imagination alone without prior informational criteria acting as its catalyst. That accumulated information forms a foundational base which functions like a filling station for the imagination. In order for any creative activity to find its bones and articulate its position it needs a strong foundation to work with. No matter how original or unique a particular work may be the ideas and imagination that produces that work utilizes gathered information and remixes it into one that is uniquely their own. This work of my fevered mind is no exception. For the purposes of this essay I will only name the major influences and building blocks that helped germinate the weaving of this Tapestry; for if I was to name them all I would then have to write all the boring details about my thinking patterns and where each and every particular idea come from, which for the sake of space and maintaining interest, I have no intention of doing.

 

 

I’ve always wanted to write an Epic Work, written in prose and verse, concerning my thoughts and subjective musings on GOD, Nature and the Creation of the Universe. “The Tangled Tapestry” is my attempt at writing a biblical version more suited to my temperament and blasphemous impulses. I’ve always found the Bibles version quite lacking in vision and balance although it did leave a lasting footprint on my mind. It opened the floodgates of my imagination and satisfied some of my spiritual cravings by introducing me to the concepts of Good and Evil and of Heaven and Hell where Satan, God and their angels dwelled. Now don’t get me wrong, for I do believe the Bible to be, (in parts) a Literary Masterpiece and a great source of Spiritual Knowledge and Wisdom. But I also believe it was written by the priestly elite, wild eyed prophets and God obsessed zealots with a particular agenda in mind which I so happen to fervently disagree with. Notwithstanding that this “Book” was the source of much of my spiritual and intellectual disillusionment and distain towards monotheistic male dominated and chauvinistic religions in general; one can’t deny the great social and religious impact that this “Work” has had and still has in western society (Negative and Positive), as well as being a source of inspiration for writers of all religious and spiritual persuasions.

 

 

I’ve used the bible as a foundational template for my novel but the heart and soul of the work lies with other great works that have influenced and shaped my intellectual, spiritual and creative worlds. Milton’s

“Paradise Lost”, Dante’s “Divine Comedy”, Virgil’s “Aeniad”, Tolkien’s “Silmarillion” and Wagner’s Opera “Twilight of the Gods”, are the ambrosia that feeds the tapestry. These great masterpieces are the strings that make up the Thread that’s spun and woven into the mosaic that makes up this little mythological epic of mine. Of course there are a few other strands of strings that help make up the thread but these are of a lesser stitch, with similarities to the works mentioned, so rather then being redundant I felt it best to let the reader fill in the blanks. Much of the flavor, vision and landscape of the tapestry were heavily influenced by these literary marvels and in a sense my work is a tribute to their genius. One may think me the arrogant fool with balls the size of Texas to even think that I have the writing chops to attempt such a work and the misguided conceit to even remotely compare my novel to these masterpieces, but if not me, then who?

 

If not for my rediscovery of the internet some eight or so years ago, this work of mine would be nothing more than but a whisper in my restless and underused mind. It made me hone in on and take note of my writing skills; a skill that I was sorely lacking in and always found to be excruciatingly numbing and none to enjoyable to do. It was this distaste for writing and my utter lack of discipline in that area that contributed to my leaving the halls of higher learning. I essentially stopped writing (except for the occasional postcard, letter or work related affair) when I left the academic world in the early eighties to pursue a different vocation in the world of lesser dreams. My first foray into this superhighway of cyber-reality and electronic illusion was on an unmoderated discussion site concerning Esoteric topics. It was here that I learned to become a disciplined writer not out of necessity but choice. My dislike of writing waned and my creative juices were rekindled. My poetic and philosophically driven muse came out of exile and helped me pen my first poem in over eighteen years (Nothing to speak of-Tapestry poem # 5 ) to a fairly warm reception from a readership mainly made up of psychologists, therapists and new age practitioners. Like a lovers bite, the poetic bug bit me hard and fast, whereby a magnificent obsession and passion was born. I knew that I needed to find a different venue to better learn the craft as well as to explore the unfamiliar world of poetry and writing in general. After a few years sputtering around the internet looking for a site that would suit my needs I finally hit pay dirt by coming across not one but three writing sites (Lit.Org, Writing Forums, and the Internet Poets Society-{now defunct} ) that have influenced, shaped and made me the writer that I am today. If not for them “The Tangled Tapestry” would be nothing more than a title without a story occupying space in the cluttered corridors of my mind.

 

 

Before I end this portion of the essay I need to acknowledge four outstanding and gifted writers (Claire, Lilia, Kitten Courna, and Tinalouise) that have exerted a tremendous influence on the tapestry and on my writing overall. This is not to say that I haven’t been helped and or influenced by other writers on these sites, for surely I have. But these four in a sense became my earthly or cyber muses; inspiring me to creative heights that I was unable to reach before. They enabled me to create the color and landscape that is the Tapestry.

 

 

Two of my beloved muses (Claire and Lilia) are controversial to say the least, one being involved in a multi-site scandal involving identity issues while the other being banned or cast out due to devilishly impish or erratic behavior attributed to her multi-personas. It was decided (by those who decide such things even though not everyone may have agreed) that {Lilia’s} actions were not conducive to the overall well being of the writing community in which she was a part of. As for {Claire} she was condemned for doing harm to the gullible, naïve, and trusting by creating a three dimensional persona( a masterwork) that was extremely active and popular amongst various sites. When that character (Claire Robinson) got to hard or tedious to maintain she was then given a fatal disease and killed off. The Internet in general is a strange place, a virtual Theater of the Absurd, were illusion and reality coexist side by side and are often blurred together. Concerning myself, I never had a problem with its illusionary nature although I’ve found that others can’t seem to see-or don’t want to see-what’s inside all that smoke and fog. Those with a literal and linier way of seeing things tend to take it way too seriously.  I see these firebrands as great performance artists with a wicked sense of humor albeit a somewhat odd sense of what constitutes fun. Many in the writing community see them in quite a different light. Be that as it may; there is still no denying that they helped and inspired many a writer and their shadows still remain etched on the sites where they bestowed their art. These be my Muses of the Night.

 

Claire, or the writer behind the created persona, was the one who encouraged me to try my hand at fictional prose while interviewing me for, ”Exposed”, a series based platform where she interviewed members of the writing community at Lit.Org whom she found of interest.  I was a fan of her work and admired her writing

skills and when one of that caliber took an interest in my poetry it gave me the juice that I needed  to continue to hone my craft. When I posted my poems it was her critique that I looked for. I highly valued her opinions concerning writing so when she suggested that I consider writing fictional prose (a area of writing I never considered) I took note and seriously considered it. Also the seed from where the Tapestry was born

was to be found in my answer to one of the last questions she asked me: 

 

 

Q: If you could sit down in your library with a group of six (living or dead) what would you want to know, and what would you like to ask?

A: I only need two to sit down with. That would be God and Lucifer.
First I would want to ask if they created us or did we create them. Then I'd ask them for the meaning of existence and to kiss and make up.

 

From Her did the Tapestry take life and for that I will forever be grateful to My Lady Claire for planting the seed…

 

Lilia is a character study unto itself. She’s passionate, argumentative, brilliant, duplicitous, funny, opinionated, helpful, wrathful and one hell of a great poet/ writer/artist . She’s very much like “Lilith” one

of my central characters in the tapestry. Most writers base their characters loosely on people they know and I’m no exception. Since my novel is a cyberspace baby, most of the people that I base my characters on are those that have cyber lives in the cyber lands. Lilia is one of my cyber-soul sisters-a kindred spirit- (the other being,  Tinalouise which I will get to in due time) whom I based my character Lilith upon.  She has shown great enthusiasm for my work. Her critiques and advice were invaluable tools that enabled me to better hone my craft. She understood the spiritual and philosophical undertones of many of my pieces, especially the Tapestry and my Circle Poems (a series of poems based on Dante’s Inferno).  After each release of a new poem to the set, it was her critique that I looked for, to see if I got the tone and flavor right. After I finished this series I realized how much I enjoyed doing episodic or series based poetry. A light bulb went off and an idea for an Epic Poem that turned into the tapestry sizzled in my brain. And if not for Lilia’s advice and encouragement that she gave me on the circle poems, I may never have attempted to undertake a project such as the tapestry. She juiced up my ego and made me feel that I had the writing bones to write on a larger scale. 

 

From Her did the Tapestry take root and for that The Mistress Lilia has my eternal gratitude…

 

And now for My Muses of the Light:

 

Kitten Courna will always be for me “The Mother of the Beasties”.  Her poem “Creatures” a delightful

and sweet children’s opus, inspired me to write a darker version, where her harmless little bugs became fanged serpents with hellish intentions.  They soon took on a life of their own as I became obsessed with my little beastie friends. The beasties series would be dead in the water if Kitten found it in bad form. As a matter of fact she quite enjoyed my take on her poem and followed the beastie series with keen interest. Her critiques and poetic advice were an immeasurable help towards me finding my poetic voice. I found my poetic bones through the beastie poems. They made me fly amongst the clouds and winds of my imagination    and experience the true magic and joy of writing.  I eventually tied the beastie poems with another series of mine (the memoirs of Lucifer MorningStar) which made my poetic voice grow skin along with the bones. These poems serve up large portions that is the food and drink that nourished the tapestry to take root and grow.  And if not for Kitten’s enchanting poem the beasties would have never come into being and the tapestry would remain as but a shadow in my fleeting thoughts.  From Her did the Tapestry find a heart and for that the lovely Enchantress Kitten Courna will live in my memories till time ends and begins again…

 

Tinalouise  has given to me the most precious gift that any writer can ever  receive; she loves and enjoys reading the tapestry almost as much as I love and enjoy writing it. Tina’s a gifted poet (one of my favorites) as well as an  experienced and respected freelance writer who became the tapestry’s most ardent fan. My cosmic tale appealed to her sensibilities and weaved its way into her heart: that is all that any writer can hope for- it’s like winning the lottery. Like Lilia, I consider Tina, a cyber-sister-a kindred spirit- and used her as a template of sorts for my character “The Archangel Domini Lucifina”-The Lady of the Light-for reasons that are transparent for those who’ve had read her poetry and comments on the writing site of Lit.Org. I’m a notoriously slow writer who writes at a snails pace and if left up to me I’d still be on chapter VIII.  Her ardent passion for the tapestry  inspired me to expand on the story and quicken my writing pace.

Her unbridled enthusiasm for my work juiced up my writing bones and made me impose on myself a deadline of sorts for the release of each new chapter.  When I wrote a new chapter it was her eyes that I hoped would read it first. Now if that’s not a Muse of the 1st Order then I might as well throw away my pen.

 

From Her did the Tapestry find a soul and for that the Beautiful and Graceful Tinalouise will always be a part of the dance that Is the Tapestry…

 

I’d be remiss if I didn’t include Charmr, Smithy, Lans, Darlene and Elizabeth (outstanding poets all) among those who have lifted me up by adding a little liquor to my juice from the constructive criticism and advice they have given me concerning the tapestry.  They in a sense acted as a Greek chorus -a sounding board - that enabled me to fine tune what needed tuning.  And if they looked with a fine eye they would find

a piece of themselves embedded in the weave…

 

 In summing up the only thing I have left to say is: No Man’s an Island and it takes more than a village to write a book…

 

 

 

 

 

PREFACE

 

I’ve been a student of mythology in most of its forms for the past thirty five years or so. Greek, Roman German and Norse Mythology as well as Fairy Tales of any sort were my first loves and remain so till his day. I became immersed in world religions and chose as a course of academic study: comparative religions. My main areas of interest were Jewish, Christian and Pagan Philosophy /Mythology and the Creation Myths that were conjured up by the priestly elite to ensnare, beguile, intoxicate and educate the unwashed populace. For me the broad brushstrokes between light and dark, as well as the tragic overtones in many of these creation stories and mythological histories, is what gave them their existential muscle and an allegorical validity( and for those who held faith over logic - a literal one) that baffled, enthralled and enriched the philosophically inquiring and God starved minds throughout the ages. My working novel, “The Tangled Tapestry” is my attempt to bring together many of the creation myths and fairy tales, (that have inspired and fueled my imagination) into one cohesive multi-layered weave; as conceived through the eyes of a borderline pagan and agnostic.

 

 

The who, what, where, and how of the origins, roots and meaning of GOD have always held a special fascination for me. Did we create GOD or did HE/SHE/IT create us? Does GOD exist, either as the Other or as Creator/Mother/Father/Son/Daughter or is IT/HE/SHE just a part of our God starved imaginations, something that we needed to create in order to feel special and not alone? Is GOD the Master Weaver who creates the fabric of the universe by peeling away bits and pieces of ITS being; spinning and weaving an intricate and exquisite tapestry of ITS own design and making: which so happens to be the story of Us and the Universe. The answers to these questions can only be answered through conjecture, subjective reasoning, imagination, and ones desire to explore and expound upon metaphysical improbabilities and impossibilities (while a small part within us {or at least myself} secretly hopes what was imagined and conjectured upon exists somewhere in those myriad streams of alternate realities) or by the faithful and hopeful; who are willing to jump off that cliff of logic by taking that leap of faith and landing head first into that deep well of magical thinking whereby God and The Gods do exist and that the heavens, demons, and angels await them.

 

 

For the purposes of my book I have painted and spun GOD as the Master Weaver/Dreamer/Artist and Primary Creator, as well as the Unknowable Other, while placing the Gods as Secondary Creators and shadow extensions of the Primary Force. This is indeed an arrogant undertaking best suited for God obsessed fools and writer poets with too much time on their hands and an over abundance of imagination. I confess to being one of those arrogant fools, (with an insane muse roaming around in my head) foolish enough to meet GOD head on and tell HIS/HER/ITS story and hoping that IT will find it amusing. If SHE/HE/IT doesn’t, I can always blame it on the devil and say shE made me do it…


till next time

bob

 

 



Don't mess around with my deviL
[info]weavemaker

This is a poem I wrote that deals with my Tangled Tapestry mythology. I posted this on Lit.org. I'm showing a comment made by one of its member (Demeter) who was one of my muses for the tangled tapestry. I just want to clarify my views on my Devil in the tapestry . 



Vengeance Served Hot

don’t shoot me
in the stomach
aim straight
towards the head
show a little mercy
either way
will make me dead

karmic justice won’t
be served
seeing me
scream and writhe
in pain

those feelings
of black joy
and elation 
watching my bowels
explode

will fade

while memories
of your
cruelty
linger and remain~

and a door will open-

letting the
devil walk in
to play heR
fiddle
and add a
new string to
heR symphony



rat tat tat
bang boom bang







Asexual Devils & Angels?  Comment from Lena (Demeter)
I loved this...

...especially the play with the spelling of
- "heR" - in poetry, the "he" smaller than the capital -- "R" -- put together becomes and is ONE word...

...to me this is implying a "he and she", just as the devil is asexual, the devil is both, maybe?

I see what you are saying in so many different angles, for example:

Devils, demons, they all look the same to me, just like angels all look alike and are asexual as well, and some of those angels have some pretty harsh ways...

... more like devils than devils can be, especially the judgemental vengeful kind that destroy and do harm in the name of G-d...

... and in the name of good, as in holier than thou kind of goodness and innocence, angels...

...they can cause a lot of pain too, really godly kind of pain,...again, all the same.

Is there such a thing as good pain vs a bad pain? Is pain not the same, just as those that inflict it?

...such as in Sodom and Gomorrah, and several examples of those kind of angels in the Old Testament Christian Bible and the Jewish Torah.

Demons, angels, all the same, really...

...devils do dance and play the strings, but it is the angels who are known to sing one voiced symphonies .

Good and bad, devils and angels, all subjective depending on one's perspective.

Wonderful play of words on these themes, multi-layered meanings depending on what you believe or do not believe to be or not to be?

Fantastic piece of work here. 


re: Vengeance Served Hot    Comment by Me
It delights me to no end that my poems are still read and can illicit favorable comments and ratings. Poetry is a very subjective artform so this can be taken in many ways. The obvious being that following the second path only leads to going down a dark road and opening a place within you that the darkness can explode in.

To answer Bea- yes my devil is a shE- no Freudian slip- fully intended. it's part of my mythology I created for my book - And to answer Lena shE is a he as well but her Feminine aspect is the one that is in full play- he he is not yet reunited with the her- complicated I know but I'm a complicated guy-as for making my stuff dark I just can't help myself:)

Thanks for the comments and ratings- they humble me.

Lilith judgements & concepts found here...  Comment by lena (Demeter)
Thank you, Bob, for giving your definition of your work above, after I left my critique, I wondered what you might really mean, since, yes, art is so open to interpretation...

...I knew of course, that your use of heR, was meant as a red herring chaos twist of wordplay... of course, it had to be the SHE aspect, since your use of that kind of metaphor/wordplay and the use of Lilith lore is used in your work The Tangled Tapestry...it concepts transcended into this piece too...how could it not? That is what your Tapestry is all about...

Lilith G-d's first "Eve" version he created for the first of the many "Adams"...

Lilith the disobedient first wife of Adam, who would not submit or be kept in the dark, nor would she accept G-d's unjust judgement and harsh punishments of heR.

....oh, Lilith, poor creation had to nerve, the chutzpah, to question the authority of one who kept knowledge from her and she rejected authority or dominance over her by any...

...of course as we know, in kabbalah and the lore of mostly the Judeo-Christian religions that such woman are considered uppity and don't know their place...

...to remain childlike, ignorant, kept in the dark, and obedient is their ONLY acceptable place they can ever be, little Miss Sunshines of the sweetest kind, holding their little girl lollipops, licking, licking, licking...with their sweet little girl lips who even when they say horrible things, are quickly forgiven for they are lollipop lickers, innocent, so innocent...yeah, that's how it goes...

...otherwise, such woman are called devils/demons and like Lilith are always condemned by woman and men who have bought into that great lie of all lies, started by the Sumerian created G-d, stolen by the Jews, then taken over by the Christians, disgusting really, makes me want to puke knowing all that I do.

Ah, "compassion"...such a struggle, for man/womankind and gods, and G-d...and so on...

Good for Lilith that she said screw you, and she continued playing her strings as she saw fit... while the angels continued to sing...despite her misery and pain inflicted upon her by the "merciful G-d" that created all of the them, all those hE/shE creations;-)

(interesting that angels are of the same genetic code as the demons, only the angels, unlike the demons/devils, are not completely obedient like the one voiced singing angels-who sing in perfect harmony, kissing ass to G-d, fearful of ever being kicked out of his heaven and graces)

Yeah, these kind of heR/shE angels only continue being protected by G-d as long as they keep playing and singing their sympathies in one voiced harmony...

Good for Lilith and all those he/she devils like heR that keep the music and jigs going....

Good for Lilith that she continues on and does what she feels is just despite all that has been unjustly done to her...I'd say Lilith is really quite generous, I mean, considering how G-d turned his back on her, judged her and allowed others to continue to slander.

I've never been fond of shE/heR angels who sing Glory glory glory out of fear of being kicked out of G-d's graces. Singing in fear? Now, that is what I call censorship.

As to your comment to Bea that "he he and she" are not yet united, interesting...

...in my book of religious/lore knowledge and Stuart's too, that dis-connection can never be, the intricate connection between the feminine and male aspects of gods, devils, demons, and such is an absolute. There is NO dis-connection.

Impossible, for all are ONE in the heR/shE spectrum... just as all males begin as females in their mothers wombs, same thing with the supernatural beings, he/she, and heR or shE are what is...

Again, great that you confirmed what I and other he/she (heR) devils like me suspected about this piece as you see it, I hope to see you continue in your writings...


...like THE TANGLED TAPESTRY, and like your work here VENGENCE SERVED HOT, which could only come from you...

a real piece of art work;-)



My work "The Tangled Tapestry" deals with many Archetypes. In this poem I have the devil as a shE. Of all my characters shE is the only purely evil one. shE relishes in the absolute blackness of eviL. I have heR as the Fiddle player. Lena has the gist of it but she focuses on my Liltih character which I based on her. But my devil is Mephistopheles who was a high angel in heaven before shE earned the wrath of Lucifina. Lucifina made the deviL through her severe punishment She inflicted upon my poor little deviL. In the next few posts I will give a overview on my characters and what my philosophical overview is concerning them. Right now I have to go to a Christmas dinner.


till next time

bob






Administrating a site not for writers.
[info]weavemaker

I no longer admin at Lit.org. What a relief- I found out that administrating sites is not good for creative purposes. I ran lit for two years and in that time I barely wrote. I was so worried about keeping the site alive and saying the right things that I didn't submit work. I also admin on another site but rarely showed my work there as a first posting. I always wrote on lit first- it was where I was most comfortable at. Moderating and administrating sucks if you want to write and express yourself. Words of warning-if you want to moderate -think twice- because it sucks. That's my little rant of the day

till next time


Interview from a broken down old poet.
[info]weavemaker

This is an interview that I just gave for a website- Why not post it here as well.

WRITING
What did you first read? How did you begin to write? Who were the first to read what you wrote?
I would love to say “Shakespeare’s” works or Miltons “Paradise Lost “ or all the Old Classics were the first things that I read and that forever shaped me. But it is what is now called Graphic Novels that touched a well deep within me that has till this day remained full. I was addicted to comics by the age of nine-Superman, Flash Green lantern, Doctor Strange and the rest of the DC gang fueled my imagination and made reading fun rather than a chore. If not for them I would have never had the inclination or desire to discover and be enriched by the likes of Shakespeare, Milton, Homer and all the old masters of the Literary world.

I began to write out of necessity. I needed remedial English and basic writing courses while in college just to write a functional sentence. I was an abysmal writer and my professor’s said I had an agile mind but would go nowhere in the academic world or would barely get by in the business world with the bad writing skills that I had. I was a gifted oral speaker but a lazy and undisciplined writer and I had to sweat blood in order to learn the basic fundamentals in order to write coherently. I did learn how to write philosophical papers well enough to get by but writing did not come natural –it was quite painful. It was through writing poetry –mainly foolish love poems – that made me hone my skills and made me a more disciplined writer. Thirty years later I’m still learning how to write.

The first to read my mad scribbles were my Professors. Thank God they saw a dribble of promise and encouraged me to write like an educated young adult rather than a first grader.
What is your favorite genre? Can you provide a link to a site where we can read some of your work or learn something about it?
Much of my first draft work can be found on a site I now Administer Lit.org

Or my second draft work that pertains to my working novel can be found on
Myspace.com/thetangledtapestry
What is your creative process like? What happens before sitting down to write?
I usually just sit down at my terminal and stare. I then start to hear the rumblings of a thought-either from one of the myriad characters that are living there or from the Me that is called bob, and than I put it down. I usually go over what I wrote and make corrections before I go any further. It has to feel right before I continue on or end the writing session. Sometimes it can take me hours or days to write a few sentences or lines of a poem. I’m a very slow writer. I never stop editing even after it’s finished or even published -
What type of reading inspires you to write?
Works about Science dealing with cosmologies-I read lots of sci-fi and fantasy in the fiction genre. On non fiction its science baby- Reading about science makes my imagination go wild- string theory-multi-dimensions –wild, wild stuff.
What do you think are the basic ingredients of a story?
Creating believable and interesting characters-Plot.
What voice do you find most to your liking: first person or third person?
Third person
What well known writers do you admire most?
Stephan Gould, Richard Dawkins, Ken Wilber, J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert Heinlein,
John Milton, Dante, Homer, Frank Herbert, H.G. Wells, Edgar Allan Poe, Herman Hesse, Franz Kafka, James Michener, Robert Ludlum, Anne Rice and Stephan King
What is required for a character to be believable? How do you create yours?
It must come from the gut- they need to be three dimensional living breathing things- You should let the characters write the story not the story write the characters.
Are you equally good at telling stories orally?
Yes-better in fact.
Deep down inside, who do you write for?
I write for my characters who want to live on the outside world as well as in my mind.
Does reader feed-back help you?
It helps quite a lot- It wakes me up-
Do you share rough drafts of your writings with someone whose opinion you trust?
I share lots of my work –first and second drafts on writing sites. I trust the opinions of writers that I respect.
Do you believe you have already found "your voice" or is that something one is always searching for?
It takes time ,patience , rewrites, revisions, reading, more reading, writing, and more writing, mimicking other writers styles , trail and error, perseverance, blood, sweat, and then maybe if you have a little bit of talent and a thick skin: you’ll get lucky and find your own voice. I believe I found mine.
What discipline do you impose on yourself regarding schedules, goals, etc.?
My discipline sucks- I’m a very lazy writer- I procrastinate regurgitate and salivate before I start writing –It hurts my brain but it’s something that I need to do in order to breathe clean air. Sometimes I have to chain my self to my chair and have my slave whip my back. (just kidding about the slave)
Do you write on a computer? Do you print frequently? Do you correct on paper? What is your process?
I only write on a computer. It’s easier to delete than erase with a pencil. Besides my penmanship is atrocious and it doesn’t help if you can’t read your own writing. So the Computer it is. I print out only my 3rd draft works and better.
What sites do you frequent on-line to share experiences or information?
What has been your experience with publishers?
Decent enough , contentious at times but mainly dormant for the past twenty years. Will be getting back on the horse soon enough. Not my Number 1 Priority- I’m a lazy basterd and publishing your work means putting effort in the marketing of your piece as well as all that other stuff that feels like mind numbing work to this underachieving old fool.-
What are you working on now?
For the past 4 years I’ve been writing an Epic fantasy called “The Tangled Tapestry”. It’s a mixture of prose and poetry. It’s a Creation and End Myth with a pagan slant. Beware ye young Christian hearts…
What do you recommend I do with all those things I wrote years ago but have never been able to bring myself to show anyone?
Look at them with old and new eyes. With your new eyes rewrite them in the way you write now. With your old eyes just correct the typos and grammar and let it be. Mix them both up and you may come up with a winner.

Either way show them in its original and rewritten form to those who read your work- it can be quite enlightening on which they find is more worthy.


 
 


1 visits


[rcallaci]
Robert Callaci
Plainview, new York

[rcallaci] Robert Callaci

Send a message to [rcallaci]




 
© Robert Callaci
Web address for this interview: http://www.whohub.com/rcallaci

Writer's Block: Church & State
[info]weavemaker

Should church and state always be separate? Why or why not? What should the nature of their relationship be?


View other answers

If you want government to mirror Iran than the answer is NO. If you espouse ideals of freedom and diversity than the answer is a resounding YES.  This is a plural society with many different moral, philosophical, political and religious beliefs and to inject church (whose church-yours -mine?) into the political process only creates increased intolerance, bigotry, moral arrogance, loss of freedom and an Us and Them mentality. Lets read our history books and follow the ideals and views set by our founders of the constitution.


weavemaker

Writer's Block: Everything That's Fit to Print
[info]weavemaker
Print news hopefully will never die- for me nothing can take the place of flesh and blood books and newspapers. You tend to read them more intently than you would on the Internet. It's a tactile and sensory  thing- it's more relaxing as well-long live print....

weavemaker

Pagan Bones
[info]weavemaker

I'm a passionate student of  scientific and mythological cosmologies . For the past four years I've been writing  my version of Creation and the nature of GOD. It's based on Pagan, Jewish and Christian mythologies. It has a definite pagan slant to it. The deeply religious will find it to be a godless and blasphemous work. The spiritually sophisticated and open minded may find it quite entertaining.  My working novel is called  "The Tangled Tapestry" . It has become my life's passion.  I have this work in a few places online but this journal is about my ideas behind the work. My views that shape my poetry and prose.  A writers dairy if you will....


another poem to bite into:


Let the Pagan Winds blow again...
 
In the end
And in the beginning
was the Word
heard
While in the middle
it was distorted
and ignored
As the mouth of Man
Brutalized! Sanitized! Trivialized!
and
Politicized!
What was~
Pure Clear Simple
and
Unadorned
 
Let the Pagan Winds blow again…
 
Those Christ makers
and Devil shakers
polluted
what Was
and Is
Into a cacophony
of delusion
and discord-
Making the Word
heard
venal, obscured, absurd
and blurred
For the truth was not what
they wanted to hear
so they created a God
for us
to kill for,
worship and fear
 
Let the Pagan Winds blow again…
 
Whispering willows, babbling streams
Moonlit nights and fairy dreams
In forest deep and mountain rock
Where eagles soar beyond the cliffs
and lions roar outside the mists
The Old Ways thrive and are alive
To preserve the Word that was not heard
So that the dance will never end
 
Let the Pagan Winds blow, blow, blow again…



till next time

weavemaker
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Writer's Block: Greenery
[info]weavemaker
I'm quite committed in keeping my little patch of the world green. This is the only world we have and to treat it like our personal garbage can is a disgrace. The simple act of recycling , conserving our electric and water use and relying more on mass transportation than our gas guzzling cars is a step in the right direction. Donating time or money to endangering specie organizations and animal rights groups is also a way of showing your love to Gaia.(the-World) . We all need to get off our fat asses and get involved in restoring the world we live on back to health.  

regards,
Weavemaker

Home