Tag: words

The Elder’s Warning

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Listen well Childer, for I shall not repeat myself.

When we wake upon the morrow, we all must face a choice.

Do we cling to that threadbare veil, the tattered façade we call Humanity?

Or do we succumb to our Hunger, to the Beast?

Every night we awaken from our torpid slumber, we face that very choice.

I tell you this, if we allow our Hunger, our Beast, to slip through the cracks, “they” will find us.

Now, WHO is “they“?

The Camarilla? The Sabbat? The Second Inquisition?

Who knows? Who cares! It doesn’t matter.

They will give you your Final Death.

So cling, cling tightly to those bare-threaded fabrics, the veil that keeps our precious Humanity.

Cling to the Tattered Façade.

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Echoes

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Hello?
(hello.)
(hello how low)

How low will you go to hammer and beat the flow
of words into rhyme and against time
still feel you come up short?
cut the cord and be the sword.
it’s too late to abort
this path of yours.
stay the course.

You steal the words of power
from the idols of the hour
but in your twisted grasp,
you make them flower
anew. you polish the hasp
that sealed the door
and open the clasp
to free the poor.

I don’t know..
I just riffed.
I knew where I wanted to go …
but the moment I said hello
and the echo of the prompt came back,
Cobain’s lyrics hit me like a brick
and I knew I had to make them stick
but words no longer his,
they’re mine. I’m a wiz.

Echolalia is a super power.
but I don’t just echo, I riff.
I catch a vibe or whiff and sniff.
I auto-regurgitate the memes and flip
the script to spit in the eyes of the blind and make them see.
I’m jesus, don’t ya see, I am exactly whom I’m supposed to be.

Stealing lyrics and poetry.
From the collected verse…
the collective unconscious universe.
What could possibly be any worse
than a poet that knows faer own power
and wields the weapons of war in this grave hour.

The Pen is mightier than the sword?
No.
Both are mighty, yes, it’s true,
each one is but a tool
and every tool takes a toll
and each has a purpose we must now unfold.

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Dinner with my Family

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[Intro Choral Hint]
Papa sets the table.
Cousins raise a glass.
All of us are able,
No one needs to fast.

[Verse 1]
Aunt Mary likes to dance with dear Uncle Vlad,
While sipping from the veins of a guy named Chad.
Little Caroline can turn into a bat.
And Lou Garou barks at the family cat.

[Bridge]
Caroline and Lou both agreeeeeeeeee….
Our family is happy, as happy as can be.

[Main Chorus]
Papa sets the table.
Cousins raise a glass.
All of us are able,
No one needs to fast.
Join our gruesome dinner,
There is food enough.
Skeletons are thinner
Sinew can be tough.

[Verse 2]
Take a seat if you dare. Sit right beside me.
I won’t dare to bite you, unless asked nicely.
But I would stay away from Caroline’s roost.
Hey, that reminds me, how’s your tetanus boost?

[Bridge]
We’re thrilled to have you here, it’s truuuuueeeeeee……
Uncle Hannibal may even add you to his stew.

[Main Chorus]
Papa sets the table.
Cousins raise a glass.
All of us are able,
No one needs to fast.
Join our gruesome dinner,
There is food enough.
Skeletons are thinner
Sinew can be tough.

Papa sets the table.
Cousins raise a glass.
All of us are able,
No one needs to fast.
Join our gruesome dinner,
There is food enough.
Skeletons are thinner
Sinew can be tough.

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The Dying of the Light

Sean PrunkaNo Comments

Hope right now feels like a dying light,
Trans youth are dying because the Right
Will strip away their right to live,
Not willing to even give
The smallest crumb of consolation
To the ability to live, in desperation,
As their truest self; who they really are,
A colorful bird, a shining star!
 
Women are being stripped of power,
As the Right tries to claim the hour
And a rapist sits in his Ivory Tower
Expecting them to meekly cower.
Women forced to bear the seed to term,
Even if the act will leave them dead or infirm.
They don’t care about the “Right to Life”,
They only sow the seeds of strife.
Seeking to control all the facets,
Women aren’t people, they’re merely assets.
 
Targetted by hateful laws,
We must fight! Defend our Cause!
Dying is the Light of Hope.
We must rise, not merely cope.
Rage against *this* dying light,
We will not leave without a fight.

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Love Is …

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Love is a place.
A safe space,
Where you can be you, without fear.
Without judgment or reprisal; just to be clear.
Love is online, a community that fosters your growth.
Love is a home that supports and offers a troth.
Love is that one diner
Where you and your tribe couldn’t be finer.

But love is not *every* place.

Love is a person. They ask if you’ve eaten.
That ride-or-die friend that just cannot be beaten.
They tell you to drive carefully and text when you’re home.
They add color to life when it turns monochrome.
They listen; hold space.
They offer care and grace.

But love is not *every* person.

Love is a thing. A reminder of hope.
A hug in order to cope.
Love is hot chocolate with marshmallows on top.
That teddy bear when the tears won’t stop.

But love is not *every* thing.
In fact, love is so rarely the thing by itself,
Love is the feeling you get from that thing on the shelf.

Love is a clusterfuck of emotions.
Love can be happy. Love can be sad.
Love can be angry. Love can be mad.
Love is confusion. Love is irrational.
Love is calm. Love is magical.
Love is joy. Love is pain.
Love can be all of these at the same
time.

Love is unconditional. But love sets boundaries.
Love is love, even if the sound varies.
It is freely given, without limits.
Love is how we survive all of these minutes.

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To All the Could’ve Beens that Will Never Be…

Sean PrunkaNo Comments

We were friends.

We laughed and danced. We sat and talked for hours.
We drank and danced some more.
When you wrapped your tongue around my finger,
It became the signature on a note that said:
“There’s more.”

We were going to give it a go, to see what the future may hold.
But, weather happened. Our first date was a no-go.
Work schedules collided. Our second first date was a no-go.
Then COVID happened. And all of the next umpteen first dates were a no-go.

Then you died.

I love you as a friend.
I wish we had the chance to see what other types of love we could’ve shared.

I miss you.

I still think about the fun we shared as friends and I still wonder what might have been.
I still wonder, “If we’d had that first date, would you still be around?”
I still wonder, “Is it my fault, for not trying harder?”
I still wonder, “How could I have helped you?”

I know the answers, in order, are:
“No, probably not.”
“No, definitely not.”
“There is nothing.”

But I still ask myself.
I still feel the hurt and the questions.
And despite my logic knowing the answers —
My heart still asks and wonders.

But you’re not here to tell me, my friend,
“What could’ve been?”

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The Last Show

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Who we were going to be was chosen for us by the choices we made.
We poured ourselves into our personas, while we delved deep into their psyches.
Over the run of time, we grew in each others’ light.
We grew, our characters grew, our friendships grew.
Time was kind to us, time was on our side, time stopped.
We laughed, we cried, we fought and nearly died.
As long as we held the stage, time could not move.

Then the clock started ticking again and time had run its course.
We took our bows and struck the set, and each tick of the secondhand brought us closer to the end.

“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened,” we say, through tear soaked cheeks, knowing full well that crying is all we can do.

Yes, we’ll meet again and run another course.
But that time will be its own.
This experience will never happen again.
Each run is a unique adventure that can never be recaptured.
So I will smile through my tears as I slip away without saying …

“Good Bye.”


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Disco Power

Sean PrunkaNo Comments

Too close. Fragmented faces following a gaze.
Too close! Broken and betrayed, belittled and dazed.
Too close. Distracted by the darkness; driven mad.
Too close! Picture perfect profile pulsates badly.

BACK UP! Back off. Back down.

Spotlight shining sends shimmering sparkles. Back up.
Radiant rays are rescuing ribbons, back up.
The mirror cracked just makes many moonbeams. Back up.
Illustrious luminations light fires, back up.

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Goodbye, My Sarah Jane.

Sean PrunkaNo Comments

How can I define my sorrow at the passing of Lis Sladen?

I did not know her, except through the character of Sarah Jane Smith. But Sarah Jane was my first TV crush. She was also like a friend of the family. I welcomed her into my home via the television on a regular basis. I was a kid, watching Dr. Who in America via PBS reruns.

I was sad when she left the show. I rejoiced when I saw her again in The Five Doctors. Years later, I found out she had made K9 & Company, so I searched for years, trying to find a copy. When I did, I watched it and I fell in love with her all over again. I kept hoping the series would get picked up and that there would be more episodes with my dear Sarah Jane. It never was, of course.

Then the new run of the Doctor Who started, and eventually the rumor surfaced that she would be in an episode. I was awash with joy. When I watched School Reunion, I cried several times. Tears of joy, tears of sorrow, tears of empathy. I have teared up every time I’ve ever watched that episode. And I always will.

Then came Sarah Jane Adventures. I watched every episode as soon as I could find them. I loved that show as much as I loved Doctor Who, for me, it was still Doctor Who, just without the Doctor (usually.)

And now, she’s gone. There was no farewell episode to say goodbye to the character. The character still lives on, but she’ll never make a reappearance, she’ll never be seen again. There can be no good byes when she dies or retires or anything. The character will simply fade away from the Universe. But she will never fade away from my heart.

I’ve read (and listened to) many remembrances of Elisabeth Sladen. They were written or said by people close to her. Those who knew her say that Ms. Sladen was every bit as wonderful, brilliant, clever, fantastic and amazing as Sarah Jane ever was. Perhaps even more so. I never got to meet Lis but now, more than ever, I wish I had gotten the opportunity.

Fare thee well Lis Sladen, fare thee well on your next Great Adventure, where ever it may take you. And Sarah Jane, give our best to the Brig and the rest when you see them. We will miss you Sarah Jane, you were loved beyond any measure.