(Various Poems I have written, used in music compositions, and/or just plain like.)

Last modified June 8, 2001.

A. C. Gulls
Age Archaic
Balloon Man
The Birth of Day (C. Teel)
First Encounters
First Meetings
Gilded Box of Memories (A. Baltz)
Oriana's Lament
Paths (D. Eadington)
Tell Me
A World That Does Not Exist (M. Chalmers)
Songs of Iridine
Banditti Hunt
Black Hare Hunter
Combat Boots
Darai's Door
Locanda's Song
Rat Hunt (Nomad)
Sleeping Heroes (Nomad)


A. C. Gulls

· Flocks of white
all far away
across the small pond

· Toss out my tempter's snare
slowly they venture closer
choose to close the gap
Between us

· Suddenly a mass of white
squawks of joyous discovery
devour the wind-borne

· And then go on
ever in freedom
to fly the winds
. . . Not I


Age Archaic

Once, they loved.
Once, promised contentment,
all lived as one--happily united.
All save one thing free:
the Tree . . . to be untouched. (Beware!)

From the dark side
marched an unknown. . .
and saw them, together,
and started Hell's ministration.
Planted seeds of discontent
and fostered curiosity
"See the Tree?"
Always prompting innocents to take.
Many did.
Now, undead, worse the living,
seeking nothing . . .
Come sweet oblivion!

Guard the Tree lest all succumb
to Fatal Curiosity! (Beware!)

One, tempted, took of it.
No longer does he seek;
he wanders spiritless,
one more wretched, wretched,
wretched child of unbelief.
Endless Death.
Silent in his lovelessness.
"They are Mine! Yesss!!!"

Life is love.
Though aught but a tiny gem,
a singing crystal stone,
sparkling under starlight's
sweet, gentle nurture.
Laughing love . . .
. . . man cannot live the year
. . . when all is death quiet.
And the Age of Men Began.


Balloon Man

Yesterday's balloon is heavy now,
It lies tangled in its ribbon.
With a nudge it lifts and rises
Red and graceful
To the ceiling, brushes it.
Then like a seashell under water,
It sinks to the floor.

Every morning I walk along
With my balloons; sometimes one or two,
Sometimes several dozen,
Tied to my glasses, my belt,
My arms, my legs, my neck.
Great red round ones, tiny white ones,
Long and skinny blue balloons,
Often I've but two balloons--
A red one tied around my neck
And a white one bumping at my back
Tied and tugging my belt.

Perhaps you have seen me
Walking along the water front.
You would remember me--
Few forget. I remember you.
Your faces are each remarkable:
Longer face here, darker hair there,
Straight teeth, crooked teeth, braces,
Long nose, flat nose, close-set eyes.
When you see me coming you yell
"Hey, It's the Balloon Man!"
And wave, and I wave back.
Or you laugh
And I bear it in silence.

I say hello to all
And ask them how they are.
Often they just pass me by,
Angered at my intrusion.
Others stop and talk with me
Fifteen, twenty minutes. Half an hour . . .
It is the children who stop most.
They understand me best.
We talk about the Thundercats
And G.I. Joe, school and step-parents.
I share my fears.
They nod with understanding.

In the end I untie a balloon
Give it to the children
Watch them running off
Laughing and jumping
The balloon pulling them skyward.
I laugh and feel a little lighter,
A little less bound to earth.

Sometimes someone will stop and say
"Excuse me Sir, but you have a balloon
Tied around your neck."
I answer that I know, of course,
And that I tied it there myself.
Then he will often say
"Well, is there any particular reason
You wear a balloon around your neck?"
I tell him how my balloon
Holds my head high
To let me see the horizon.
It pulls me along
When I have no place to go.
It makes a good companion
So I never feel alone.
And I like to see the reactions
From those who see my balloons.

"Who, the people who don't wear balloons?
Well, I suppose you'd get one even stranger
From someone else who also had
A balloon tied around her neck."
I answer that I'd expect a reaction
Of recognition, of common bond,
Of joyous realization that--
Of all the million people you meet,
Another like you does exist.
"You sound like you expect
To actually meet that person."
Laughing softly to myself
I smile.
The speaker goes along his way
Slowly shaking his head.

I smile and laugh because I know--
Deep inside I know--
There IS another person
With balloons around her neck
Looking for someone like me.
I will be walking along
As I always do.
A bobbing flash of red or blue
(or white) will stop and see
My flash of red and white.
We will run to each other shouting,
Throwing arms around each other.
And we shall have balloons!
Oh! Balloons as you have never seen!
Millions of balloons--
Great clusters of every color
Lifting us up and carrying us
Far away . . .

The red balloon lies where it fell,
A withered rose on the ribbon-mesh floor.
But I! I have a helium tank
And a new balloon twin to the first.
With a hiss it fills and rises
Red and graceful
To the ceiling, brushes it,
Then hangs there, waiting . . .


The Birth of Day
C. R. Teel

The chill air is still as it gently kisses the land...
Dawn awakens like a giant's candle,
The light struggling against darkness.
Slowly, the morn overcomes the shadow,

The lucid beams of gold
Dancing across the stark white sheet
nature has left behind.
As swatches of orange play against the clouds,
The sky comes alive with a silent,
crimson-pink victory cry...

The earth sighs,
taking a cleansing breath of freshness
Calling her children to arise from their slumber.

C. R. Teel


First Encounters

Tentative reaching;
anonymous touch.
"Take a deep breath
and let's have some fun."

Becoming involved in
a new exploration.
What is it I seek?
I don't know.

Meandering touches,
typing off-handed.
What sharing is this?
Faceless, formless fantasy.

"You like this excitement.
Let me move along . . .
tell me how you want it."
Dammit, I don't know!

"Think of the time when you'll
hear my voice whispering:
God you're so beautiful!"

Your body responds to
my fingers, you tell me.
Will I ever be able
to love living flesh?

Trembling encounters
with new-found emotions.
God how I need you!
But do you exist?


First Meetings

Why am I here?
Everything within me screaming
"This is wrong. Get away!"
I am here to learn:
· to learn to dance
· to learn to smile
· to learn pleasures of relaxing
· with no place to go
· with no things to do

Why do I run?
Retreating within Me saying
"This is wrong. Run, hide!"
· I have come to join:
· to join new friends
· to join new laughter
· to learn pleasures of sharing
· things no We can hide
· things no One can know

Why do I fear?
Trembling my soul whispering
"This is wrong. This hurts!"
· I am alive to Be:
· to be open to feel
· to be able to share
· to learn pleasures of living
· the things I will learn
· the things I will live


Gilded Box of Memories
Amy Baltz

Beneath the violet light of morn
As waves crash on the rocks
I place another memory
Into my gilded box.

The memory is tiny
As it rests upon my hand
A moment of eternity
Within a grain of sand

I tilt my palm toward the box
And watch it gently go
Into its rightful place inside
The gilded box below

The gentle spray, the brightening sky
The hazy clouds that drift
Caress me as my fingers hold
The grains of sand that sift

Each tiny spot, like uncut jewels,
Glows faint with inner light
And represents a moment
When my life was dark or bright

The ruby ones are anger
Where hate and madness hide
The emerald, serenity
Where gentleness does bide

The diamond grains hold happiness
When heart and soul did fly
Beyond the bonds of weary life
Restricted 'neath the sky

The sapphire grains are tears I cried
Each falling from above
To represent the solitude
Of life devoid of love

Sometimes when life's bejewelled cloak
Grows threadbare, worn, and thin
I take my grains of memories
And make it rich again.

Each morning dew, each new sunset
Adds richness to my store
Until the day my box becomes
My life of evermore.

So at my side my gilded box
Stays with me like a friend
And waits until a memory
Is placed inside again.

Amy Baltz, 1997


Oriana's Lament
Adapted from A Knight Errant and his Dowdy Deeds: The Story of Amadis of Gaul
Published in 1911 by J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia

"My frantic grief,
accompanied by so great a reason,
causes my weak hand to declare
what my sad heart holds against you,
false and disloyal knight!

"I am the most ill-fortuned of all the world
since you changed your affection for me
(who loved you above all things in this world)
and you have placed your love upon
one who cannot love you.

"I withdraw all that exceeding and misplaced
love which I bore you;
for I am deserted.

Go and deceive this other soul.
While I lament
with tears my own wretchedness,
and so put an end to my life
of unhappiness."

O sweet Jesu help me, thou are he, Sir!
Your lady sends you this, and she bids you
(you whom she loves so well)
to forget the past and come to her.

"My soul is in anguish,
how long, Lord, how long?
How long alone?

"If great faults,
committed in enmity,
when humbly acknowledged
deserve pardon,
what shall we say for those
which proceeded from excess of love?

"My court is abandoned,
how long, Lord, how long alone?

"Not that I do by this then deny,
my true friend,
mine own fault in my anger toward you.

"My love has departed,
how long, Lord, how long
must I remain forlorn?"

Please, Sir,
your compassion and pardon are needed
for her who has wronged you,
by her who has wronged you.
Can'st forgive?


by David N. Eadington

I chanced upon an old man,
running a circular path
that was bare from years of fallen steps.

"Hello," I called,
"Why do you run through this path?"
Still running, he answered,
"I must, this is my chosen road
I must follow it."
"But it leads nowhere," I said.
"It leads to heaven, my friend.
God chose this path for me,
and I must follow it,
for all my days."
And he ran on.

Then I happened across two men,
swords in hand,
running another circular path.

"Hello," I called to the first,
"Why do you run this path?"
Still running, he replied,
"See that man, directly across from here?
He is my enemy, and if I catch him,
I will kill him."
"Why is he your enemy?" I asked.
"He owns that side of the circle,
I should own it,
I am superior,
therefore, I will take what is rightfully mine."
And he ran on.
Whereupon the second man approached.
"Hello," I called,
"Why do you run this path?"
Still running, he said,
"See that man directly across from here?
I fear him.
See how he runs after me, day and night?
He must be death,
for who else would chase me so?"
"But," I began, "He is just . . ."
"I must escape him!" he cried,
and ran on.

Leaving, I came upon two men,
one digging a circular path,
the other filling it back up.

"Hello," I called to them,
"Why do you work at such a fruitless task?"
Still working, they answered,
"It is our appointed task.
Our superior ordered us to do this
until he returned."
"When did he leave?" I asked.
"Many years ago," they replied,
"But he promised to return
So we must to our job."
And they worked onward.

Walking past them I came upon a man,
Strong, brave, and proud,
Running a path around a woman who watched him

"Hello," I called,
"And why do you run?"
Still running, he replied,
"See this most beautiful woman?
She has told me
that she likes to watch me run.
So I run, and she watches me."
"To what purpose?" I asked.
"I know that one day,
she will ask me to stop,
and love me, as I do her."
And he ran on.

Finally, I passed a man,
running after a mirror,
that moved away from him as he ran.

"Hello," I said,
"Why do you chase the mirror?"
Still running, he answered,
"See my image in yonder glass?
It is the key,
to discovering myself.
If I reach it, I will know my true self."
"What will you do with the knowledge?" I asked.
"The knowledge will fulfill my quest,
And having that,
I can die in peace."
And he ran on.

And I walked on,
passing the old man again.
But I didn't have time
to talk to him,
or enjoy the familiar scenery,
I had to discover the meaning of life,
and I knew it was just a step ahead.


Tell Me

What can I say?
When all you do is keep on turning away.
Have you forgotten how to love today?

Stop thinking now
that this is mine, and this is not somehow.
It's not the things,
It isn't thinking --

Tell me,
Where are you?
Tell me,
Where did it go?
Tell me,
How could you?
Tell me
It isn't so!

No day comes back.
One inch of time is worth a foot of gold.
When love turns black,
Living turns cold.

When there is no me and you,
Who wants to see?
What I thought we saw and felt,
Wasn't meant to be.
What did your face look like,
before your parents lived?
After what you did to me,
how can I forgive?

It's so absurd.
Truth can be seen without a spoken word.
It's just my heart
you tore apart.

Tell me,
Where are you?
Tell me,
What was her name?
Tell me,
How could you?
Tell me,
Who gets the blame?

One inch of time is worth ten miles of gold.
When love goes black it leaves you cold.

Tell me...
Tell me...
Tell me...
Tell me...


A World That Does Not Exist
Meghan Chalmers

Once a day a door to a world opens.
a world that does not exist.
Or does it?

Every day I walk into a glade,
in a world made of puns,
and magic.
Magic that does not exist.

Every day I talk with people,
real people,
who exist in a mythical world,

People with talents and dreams and forms,
that could never exist,
and yet,
I see them every day.

People that can fly or vanish or change their form,
a dream that could not be
but I soar with them every dawn.

I walk in a garden that could never be in this world,
a glade that could never exist,
and yet,
in our hearts it is real,
this world that does not exist.

This world is as real as the sun we see,
every day,
setting in the west,
and rising in the east.

This world is real to us,
to the lucky and chosen few,
this world,
which does not exist.

And one day,
I hope to step into this glade of dreams,
and find myself really there.
in this world that does not exist.

To God be the Glory


Some Original Songs by Marsaya
[Marsaya with lute]
and Other Iridinean Denizens

(Iridine is now on Skotos and can be reached by clicking

Banditti Hunt

Over and over, north and east, then south and west again.
Trudging the forest from end to end, and side to side, and then,
I think to myself, where could they be? Will they hide away all day?
For I've seen nae hide nor shadow nor motion to show that they want to play.

Banditti, banditti, banditti... come out and dance with me!
Banditti, banditti, banditti... come out and we will see!
Banditti, banditti, banditti... oh come with chests and gem!
Your spears may fly, but down you'll die as we all come dance again!

Finally, finally arrows fly, and I know I'm not alone,
But why do they come to join my dance as ten instead of one?
Dancing--they say 'tis best not to dance surrounded by larger gang--
So tell me, archer, how it feels to dance on the point o'my fang?

[repeat Chorus]

Damn, damn, and double damn, spears' got me down! Alas, and woe is me.
I struggle to stand, and that ugly man keeps prodding and jabbing for free.
Finally, finally, I'm on my feet! But damn that side be sore.
I'll have out yer guts 'ere this fight's end, of that ye can be sure!

[repeat Chorus]

The Black Hare Hunter

Oh, I went out a huntin' one mornin' in May
With me stave to defend me, to the woods I did stray
In search of some game if the weather prove fair,
And hopin' I'd get a stab at th' bonnie black hare.

Oh, I met this fair maiden, her face as a rose,
And her skin was as fair as the lilly that grows,
So I asked this fair maiden, "Why ramble ye so?
Could you tell me where the bonnie black hare do go?"

Oh, the answer she gave me, her answer was "No,
But under me apron I hear it do grow,
So if you'll not deceive me, I'll vow and declare,
We'll both go together to hunt the bonnie black hare."

Oh, I lay this girl down with her face to the skies,
And I took out me fangstave and wielded likewise.
I said, "Wrap yer legs 'round me, girl, and dig in wit'yer heels,
For the closer we get, luv, the better it feels!"

Oh, the birds, they were singin' in the bushes and trees,
And the song they were singin' was "She's easy to please."
So I told this young maiden when our sport was rave,
"Have ye had enough of me 'Tene-crafted stave?"

Oh, the answer she gave me, her answer was "Nay,
'tis not often young hunters like you come this way
So if your muster be good and your onestrike be fair,
Why don't you keep flailin' on th' bonnie black hare?"

Oh, me muster be wasted, me strength be all gone,
Me fangstave be limber, and I canna flail on,
But I'll be back in the mornin' and if you are still there,
We'll both go together to hunt the bonnie black hare!

Combat Boots

She came to Iridine one fine day
To make her fortune, she would say
But her footwear had worn all away,
So she had to buy some shoes.

When in the store, she asked of Waike
Which shoes or boots that she should take
For her denari, the deal she'd make:
She bought the hobnailed boots.

She wore those boots throughout the years
Her kids would feed their enemies fears,
And yell that they would rue the days
Their mother wore the boots.

"My mother wore combat boots," they'd cry,
"My mother wore combat boots!
She'd stomp their guts and black their eye,
She'd skin 'em alive and leave 'em to die!
I learned to do the same! No lie!
My mother wore combat boots!"

So from that day on into this,
When day is done and owl hoots
They sing the praises of this Miss
Who stomped about in boots.

"My mother wore combat boots," they'd cry,
"My mother wore combat boots!
She'd stomp their guts and black their eye,
She'd skin 'em alive and leave 'em to die!
I learned to do the same! No lie!
My mother wore combat boots!"

As time flowed on, they sang her praise
To all the young ones they would raise
To sing the tales that could amaze
About their dear grandma.

These children's children then would say
Their enemies would have to pay!
Until they all would rue the day,
She bought the hobnailed boots.

"My grandma wore combat boots," they'd cry,
"My grandma wore combat boots!
She'd stomp their guts and black their eye,
She'd skin 'em alive and leave 'em to die!
I learned to do the same! No lie!
My grandma wore combat boots!"

Darai's Door

Fog thick as old blood,
Evil as a murderer's dream.
What land be this
where undead souls roam?

In infinity lost,
Thy thoughts swallowéd.
Distance mean naught.
An thou yell, it fall dead.

Spirit roams, all unseeing.
Only vaguely human.
Did'st know him when he lived?
Did'st see him fallen?

[repeat Chorus]

Horrendous caw breaks air!
Snap! Strike! Flail!
The carrion stares:
An thou look thy heart fail.

Battling, time mean naught.
Finally! The beast doth fall.
Can'st deliver death
In this land of infinite pall?

[repeat Chorus]

Carve out thine trophy,
then to Iridine.
Again through the dead man
to rejoin living.

[repeat Chorus]

     \\  - -  //
      (  O O  )

Locanda's Song

Seventeenth of Tulcas it had been
That were quite a memorable day
For then it was they did swear in
The Constable that be lady!

To uphold Iridine's twelve table,
Keep crim. from innocent baby
To do as best as she be able
The Constable be a lady.

She need not break a leg or crown
To put a criminal at bay.
A simple smile will bring 'm down
for the Constable be a lady!

A simple smile will bring 'm down
for the Constable be a lady!

Rat Hunt

by Nomad Longreach

Down in the sewers so black
Just me and a couple a rats
Here comes an osecar so fat

I hit em like this
· · I miss em like that
Then they hiss
· · And bite me back

I've been down here all night
My last torch no longer gives light.
My sword arm is tired from the fight
My wounds are a fright
I've lost all my might

I'm so tired it's as bad as a spell
I can't even yell
It's time I can tell
to rum like hell
Get away from that smell

And head for the morning light
(Ah, but what tales I will tell
In the Toga tonight)

Sleeping Heroes

by Nomad Longreach

(With apologies to anyone or any deeds done not listed here)

I was training hard trying to be a better man
Exercising at the courses every chance I can
When out of pure exhaustion I lay me on the land

Safe and quiet, Fingers twined upon my chest
I lay my weary head upon the ground to rest
I slept so sound that not a sound could penetrate my brain
A war was on, but I slept on, although the battle reigned
Gronak and Demascus were the first upon the plain
Soon joined by Dorzon, Gagra, and Fangor
and after them came more and more and more
Adding sword & stave & club to this bloody war

When I awoke I tried to rise
Amid the clash of swords and battle cries
With blood upon the field the only prize
The question of my joining the fray was moot
For my head was planted firmly 'neath a Cinner boot
This looked like a game I was bound to lose

Before I got a chance to play
From the corner of my eye I saw the flash of Cembre
Dashing to and fro amidst the battle fray
Then Anarchias lunged and gave a battle cry
"Trip him quick, trip him quick, so we can watch him die"
It gave me barely room enough to give my head a pry

"Trip him quick, Trip him quick," was the battle cry
"Trip him quick, trip him quick, so we can watch him die!
Don't let him get away or he shall surely fly
And all out efforts be for naught." That was the battle cry.

My head was loose and so was a tooth
I quickly grabbed my sword forsooth
But not yet having the brains of a goose
I dropped my glad upon the ground
I quickly looked around
But it was already found

Not wasting time to argue it was mine
I grabbed my other glad real quick
(A really simple trick I learned from my friend Loric)
While the enemy attacked our weary flank
Gronak heeded the call to join the fight at the bank
While Idicus came to help fill our diminishing ranks

Altho the Cineran soldier was quite worn
Our side was even worse (and severly torn)
They were dropping out like sheaves of corn
Their arms were tired their legs were week
Most of them could barely speak
Even I, the freshest of the lot, was past his peak

[repeat Chorus]

Someone tripped him, I tried to do the same
I stumbled on my own two feet as if a drunken fool
But never mind my folly (or my shame)
The fall propelled my sword into a powerful tool

Thru the air it flew
Across his neck it came
Cutting it in two

I was proud right then Of the deed that I had done
Even though I knew that I was not the only one
For the others had worn him down
And kept him on the run

Jashiree arrived just in time to see the blow
That laid that mighty warrior low
(But she didn't see me trip, you've gotta know)
She screamed out with a battle cry
"What a mighty hero is that Nomad guy."
I just grinned and didn't say a single word
I just grinned and acted kind of shy

(And if you wonder why
It is because, you see
I really do not like to lie)

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