Wordgrove Post & Review

Quoted in the Grove:

The reading of all good books is like a conversation with the finest men of past centuries.
~Rene Descartes

When you sell a man a book you don’t sell him just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue–you sell him a whole new life.
~Christopher Morley

I do not read for
I have renounced life,
I read because one life is just not enough for me.
~Abbas Al-Akkad

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Posted from the Grove:
Coming Soon ~ Greenie’s Giant Castle:* The Big Reveal

Major projects often experience delays with unavoidable setbacks traumatizing plans that include a deadline. It has been a long time keeping excitement in check waiting for Greenie’s unveiling of her Castle, but the time has arrived … for the announcement. The inaugural invitation will come from Greenie, the Castle’s creator, in her own time. Tentative plans call for completion in the wee hours this Monday AM.

For those yearning to re-experience their days of medieval court-life, Greenie is offering the chance to claim a corner of the Castle to decorate as once remembered or dreamt about. Contact Greenie to drop a 16 x 16 paz at the base of a corner tower to make it happen.

Look for it soon on the greenway NW of WeirdGrave, near Black’s Gallery.

*Yet to be named

~

Already the fall blossoming of pazs has begun for Halloween. WeirdGrave Pictures (formerly Wordgrove Pictures), is a new drop near the clubhouse. The Halloween table is out below Writers Platform. You are encouraged to bring out your own paz, leave a Scrolled link behind at the Halloween table, or contact BarTalk with link for listing in the blue Script.

~

Prewritten for Thurs (10/15) @6pm PT/9 ET is: finite, firefly

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@Writers Platform

Glass Table:

~Margalo: A Letter from a Daughter to Her Mother

Dear Babe…Lynne…known as Bettina or Bets in There,
You left such a deep impression on my soul. It’s as if you’ve left your fingerprints all over my brain, and I’m trying to play detective. Where did that laugh go? Why were you taken from me? How can I make my way back to you?

I use a magnifying glass to examine the situation. Next October 17 will be your 10th anniversary of passing. Your death was shocking to us all. I cannot believe it’s been 9 years. October 17, 2006 your heart stopped beating. My heart continues to beat with the memories of your love for me, as well as the pain you endured. And the pain that I feel having lost you continues to be raw and exposed.

I will keep playing detective until I find the answers, unravel the mystery, put together the puzzle pieces. You left so many questions unanswered. I am struggling still to accept that I will never know. I will never know how much you loved me, how much you needed me to stay, how much you loved your friends. I need your voice to reassure me that it will all be okay. And that it’s time for bed.

Good night my wonderful mom and Babe Lynne…
Good night mystery…
Good night.
Love,
Your daughter and little babe,
Margalo

~

Prewritten: synthesis, symbiosis

~MissMerry: Prewritten by MM

She awoke from the dream… foggy wisps of memory linger with twisted bits of a time and place that is real, and imaginary.
A side effect of years in psychology labs studying and learning lucid dream control, now, a side effect is the dreams have become so much …more.
Being aware and in control, her dreams become another life lived in symbiosis with “real” life. She often remembers conversations and events that happened in her own inner world – outside of time and reality.
Some nights are filled with fantastic imaginary constructs that are beyond explanation, and sanity.
Listening to the gurgle of the coffee maker she yawns and puts a slice of bread in the toaster.
Smiling, she pours her coffee and munches her toast.
“I had better get going, farm life starts early!” she remarks to the house elf who is washing dishes as she heads off to get dressed, draining the last of her coffee as she walks to her castle tower dressing room.
Just another day… wolverines to be fed, aurochs to be milked, dragon eggs to be collected.

~

~Greymane:

Miles From My Bed

I woke up late one Autumn eve miles from my bed
Entranced in walking sleep I followed voices in my head
Somewhere deep where shadows play, a clearing in the trees
A cottage warm inviting me with whispered guarantees

She motioned me to take my ease and laughed a quiet song
The fire glow hissed handsomely and tried to hum along
She bade me gracious autumn eve while offering some mead
concoction quite intoxicating synthesis indeed

I realized my mind was just the reason of my soul,
A neural symbiosis to the macro cosmic whole
A blur of laughing lady dancing spirals in the light
I took another sip of mead and lost another night

In dreams of wandered visions cast unwilling on the way
I found myself in darkness silent drunk on the bouquet
Drifting spirit captivated lost inside my head
Alone again I wake again
Miles from my bed

~

~BarTalk: Venus & Mars Rampant

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Impromptu:

~MissMerry: Impromptu by MM

Trying to live
living to be
not sure who you are
just an analogy

Purple hair
and gold lame’
Raving androgeny
Queen for a day.

It’s all twisted and fine
A beautiful Star
As long as you’re happy,
who cares what you are?

~

Greymane:

The Switch

Anonymous androgynous strapped to never been
The doctor throws the massive switch and cackles with a grin
Illuminating blinding light electric from the skies
The creature lurches heavily and opens vacant eyes
Constructed from cadavers with no soul and many flaws
The doctor bowed conceitedly to waves of forced applause
He plugged the creature’s hard drive in and told him what to do
he made him dance like Fred Astaire but heavy on the shoe
Sometime in the final act he stumbled on his coat
His giant body falling hard and smashing the remote
The rest you’ll guess was quite a mess he killed them every one
He should have made him analog powered by the sun

~

~Odin: Impromptu words

Ymir, the androgynous was a waste of good stuff.
It needed slaying, but most jotnar might say that was a bit rough.

Without the redistribution of his corpse way back then,
Seven other realms would have never been.

Ymir was the “analog” dusk before the digital dawn.
Think on this when you see a new life spawn.

~

BarTalk: haiku

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