Swirling madness overtakes me,
wraps around with thick tendrils,
grasping tightly and sucking me down
into the spiral,
whirling my heart and head into a spin
so tight I can't see
can't tell which direction
is which,
can't breathe as the air whips past
too fast for me to catch,
I am the Shatterer
caught within my own battlefield
terrors, frightened by prospects
long supressed, held fast against the darkness
of the night, hoping they would just go away,
I destroy myself, I must, or I will cease,
I kill myself, I must, or I will cease,
I re-invent myself, I must, for I will cease,
I remake myself, I must, for I will cease,
soon, the end creeps ever on my back,
whispers harshly, rasping it's fetid breath
against my skin
who are you? No-one
what are you? nothing
what good are you? none
why do you exist? you don't
why don't you try? you're a waste
It barrages me, constant in it's monotony
eating away my flesh,
never abating, I get no rest,
it pressures unrelenting,
it pounds away, hounds my day,
whispers like the wind
pulverizes my brain
until I give up, until I give in
until I sleep, until I want to sleep forever,
until I wake and face the whirlwind
again, walking through the bloodied clearing,
the warzone, bodies stacked, fallen haphazardly,
limbs cracked, broken, exposed shafts of bone
protruding to the sky, blood falls with the rain,
moans pervade the air like fingernails on slate,
bodies skewered on implements of death,
spears, pikes, swords, axes,
the ground runs thick with blood, a red sticky paste
mixed in with the mud, I slip, fall, the bloody mud
soaks me to the bone, drenched, dragged down,
wallowed in the mire, mired in the wallow,
helpless because I won't help myself,
the sword. I must find the sword!
the king. I must find my king!
Are you my king? Have you seen the sword?
Help me find them! I must find them...
Then I stumble, fall into a deep puddle
sink to the bottom, the mud seeping into my eyes,
mouth, nose, clogging off my breath, choking life
from me, until I hit bottom, motion arrested,
though the weight of the mud still presses down
wanting to shove me through the earth...
then I notice something.
though my eyes clench tight against the muck,
I see a light, a brightening of the darkness
and I reach out through the viscous fluid
touching upon a searing hot pain,
I wrap both hands tightly around as they burn
the flesh of my fingers melting away
as I touch the sword
it flashes through my eyes,
while dragging it to the surface
my heart leaves, expelled as my lungs fill with air
I collapse at the edge of the lake,
the sword burning brightly...
There is no king. The king is dead.
Avalon weeps.

The Unwashed gathered for a party,
It was that time of year,
But all had to vomit when,
Ymir's butt was on the beer.
It was his ploy to keep it,
For his greedy self,
The party was dying because,
There were no spirits on the shelf.
But the funk was short lived,
Toe's used her pretty head,
They left the ale to Ymir,
And hit the wine instead.

Cheers from the land of OzI

Time passed by,
He stopped when he saw me,
“Hello” he said, very polite.
“I see you need a rest, sit back for a stretch.”
I sat in a chair that time provided,
He lay a hand across my brow,
“Rest for but a moment.”
I closed my eyes, just a moment,
A blink.
I looked around,
Time had moved on,
I was left behind,
I thought that he would wait.
But I suppose I never really
Expected it.
It just now seems so unfair
After all, all I did was blink.

k.a.stryker ©June 13, 2001

Evening Star"

Behold my sunlit dream ascending
To the sky's embrace
No more darkness and pretending
The grave's a lonely place

Every night I wept, lamenting
I couldn't reach that far
I always lived each day depending
On you, my evening star

And with this dark, foreboding liar
Comes a heart grown cold
A man who knows his own desire
One he's afraid to hold

So bury me inside your thoughts
And let me fade away
Forget me, and remember naught
Of my last earthly days

And maybe in the next life after
This journey is done
The fields will echo with our laughter
Our hearts at last as one

The Boogeyman

Well, here's some. Not really silly or light-hearted, but its all I have right now...
The Boogeyman
On a stretch of midnight
sidewalk in a jungle
of street-light shadows,

We meet, and my edges
blur until only the outline
remains, of
an old stone-savage shuffling now,

a husk of brutish energy, fixed
on your scent;
dark violence and feral lust,
bloated on your terror.

As we pass, my gaze drops
to the ground, and
the fear in your own
strikes my cheek like a blow.

I hate the way
your mirrored eyes see me.

Love

 It’s a funny thing,
Like when he smiles at me,
That certain smile,
And I know just what he means.
But I always ask,
It’s a game we play.
He knows I already know,
And he knew that I would ask.
“Why are you smiling?”
He laughs,
“Because I love you.”
It’s a funny thing.

k.a.stryker ©June 12, 2001

There once was a PB named Ymir
Who loved to spout in his Ybeer.
That the haikus he detested
Were never requested
But instead shoved up his Yrear.

See? Now wouldn't you rather have a (an?) haiku?