I Hope Someone Remembers – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

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Photo: https://media.iwm.org.uk/ciim5/36/103/large_000000.jpg

A World War 1 trench, not quite the Hyatt, Hilton or whatever, way beyond my experience.

I Hope Someone Remembers

Trenches could not be loved,
they were open tombs,
flooded, muddied, with
congealed wire garlands and
sodden timber treads,
and the stench of the living dead all round,
their sunken eyes testimony to
the glue of resignation and guilt.
Our feet blackened for love of country,
our minds already lost
in battles of their own,
Dante’s Inferno come to life,
with the sting of gas and metallic chatter,
always the thudding, crumping, shells
that shake our bones
and reshape our vision.
Our thoughts occasionally turn to
going home, could it be?
But that thought is scotched
as machine guns lace the air,
and the referee’s whistle calls play,
all the while the unrelenting cries
of death and pain rain down.
No more to hold a hand or taste…

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where shadows fall — Natalie J Case

I received word yesterday that my manuscript for Where Shadows Fall has been accepted by my publisher. This means it should be ready for release in time for holiday sales. Where Shadows Fall will serve as the ending of the Shades and Shadows trilogy, though not likely the end of stories in that world. I have […]

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and back again… — Natalie J Case

My those two weeks of vacation disappeared in a flash! I had an amazing time visiting Rome and Pompeii and Florence and Venice and Paris! Lots of great food and lots of wonderful vistas. I got home last week, but was unfortunately sick with a cold I picked up in Paris. Woke up with it […]

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sale time — Natalie J Case

As I was looking for a book, I came across a small cache of copies of Through Shade and Shadow with the original cover. If you recall, when we released In Gathering Shade, we redesigned the cover. So here I sit with a bunch of the old covers and I thought that would be a […]

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Seven Days of Summer 2018 ~ Waiting For Me To Catch Up by Paula Cas


Title: Waiting For Me To Catch Up
Rating:PG-15
Summary:When Jeremiah Parks returned to the city of his birth, his life was in such turmoil that he failed to realize the most important thing in the middle of all the chaos. Now he has to learn to open his life to someone new while helping his Clan Leader keep history from repeating itself.
Author’s Note:A huge THANK YOU to BJ Jones for allowing me to play in her ‘verse over at Sylum Clan. THANK YOU to Taibhrigh for the terrific banner art for my Sylum stories.

Waiting For Me To Catch Up

 

 

 

Unsouling From The Wilderness

By Kingsley L. Dennis

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Crazy Horse dreamed and went into the world where there is nothing but the spirits of all things. That is the real world that is behind this one, and everything we see here is something like a shadow from that one

Black Elk, Black Elk Speaks

 

Modern man, I dutifully noted, is in search of a soul, and the age is an age of longing.

Theodore Roszak, Where the Wasteland Ends

 

Perhaps the reason some of us are feeling a sense of loss and longing is that we are, as Black Elk informs us, living in the shadow world. Our reality on this side may only be the fleeting ghosts of a place that is more real somewhere else. On this side we have broken our commitment to the earth and have unsouled ourselves from the wilderness. By the first century CE, the essayist Plutarch was asking, “Why is it that the gods are no longer speaking to us?”

For a long time now, we have been trying to create a new and different image of ourselves. It is an image where modern humanity is placed at the center of its own universe. We learn by observing, probing, experimenting, and finally dissecting and destroying the dynamic world we live within. From this, the modern mind started to develop a new reality for itself.

The collective reality in which we now reside does not take kindly to opposing perspectives. We have inherited an alienated consciousness that views the world as an outside entity – a world of objects that move in mechanical motion. This alienated consciousness has substituted the enchantment and mystery of living within a dynamic and animated world with a dream of the artificial, and ultimately the unreal. The modern landscape is now more scattered with administration than adventure. The central image of our modern age has been that of consumerism: the ability of the average person to buy the material goods they require in order to have a decent standard of living. A standard of living albeit promoted to us through our mainstream media and glamorous propaganda.

Only recently have some of us come to realize that consumerism has now become a contemporary form of crash therapy for unsatisfied people wanting to buy their way into happiness to escape from the very system they are simultaneously supporting. The easy acquisition of things has become more about trying to cover up anxiety as a substitute for contentment. Modern life, especially in the highly-developed West, is now rife with people parading their false selves in place of authenticity.

The modern history of the West has been about the removal of mystery, mind, and magic from the world around us. In the past there were realms of wilderness that existed outside of the social order, and each culture had these ‘wild zones’ where people danced with the little folk in the woods, undertook initiations in caves, circles, and hard-to-find corners. There were pagan rituals, crazy ecstasies, and unknown zones where primal energies were released. These were the places of wilderness, where dreamtime reigned, and clock-time was banned. And now these wild places are fewer and fewer as a new ‘reality order’ becomes the manifesto of the day. Now it is many of us who are feeling haunted. We have lost the presence of the ‘transcendent’ within our modern societies.

We must now recognize that something has happened – a break, a mutation, has occurred that has placed us in an ‘intermediate’ stage between eras. Modern life is being not so much rewritten as reconfigured. We are seeing odd things occurring in relation to time, speed, and distance. It’s as if right now the clock, and our sense of timing, is malfunctioning. This ahistorical period is out of time, until it resets itself. And here, the possibility of transcendence lingers like a phantasma.

We are in a time of carnivalesque distortion where ‘fast food’ is a parody of our normal food preparation and consumption; mediatized sport is a spectacle of its original form; and the music industry is one huge commercial carnival that mocks genuine creativity. In the pop music industry, the spectacle, the live show – the ‘carnival performance’ – is often more important than the actual merit of the song (even when the performer mimes, as they often do). We are in a different world right now – or at least a seemingly different reality.

In this new world of different relations, symbols, and meanings we have become unmoored from our harbors.  We are talking about the fractal, the quantum, the molecular, the nano, the bots, artificial intelligence, and the singularity – yet we find we have no soulful connection with any of these terms or their significances. Perhaps we have entered a void-time.

Continue reading Unsouling From The Wilderness

Philmont “77” A Poem by Charles “Danny” Hutson

Dan Hutson was my father-in-law. He treasured his time as a Boy Scout leader, and told many stories about my husband as a teenager.

Oro Cas Reflects

Philmont “77” A Poem by Charles “Danny” Hutson

This poem was written by my father in 1977 which was the year me and him had the adventure of a lifetime for a father and son.

My older brother and I were both in the local Boy Scout troop and our father was the Scoutmaster for many years. It was a wonderful arrangement between a father and his sons.

It got even better when I decided to follow in my older brothers footsteps and go to the “high adventure camp” known as Philmont that the Boy Scouts had created in northeastern New Mexico.

During the last training week I attended in northern Virginia one of the leaders had to drop out of the trip and my father was asked if he would be interested.

Of course he said yes and the rest is history.

This poem tells a story. It is…

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how about a sale? — Natalie J Case

Today and tomorrow only, my first book, Forever is on sale for your Kindle pleasure. Just 99 cents gets you a gothic tale of a girl born into a family of vampires, and her life as she grew to understand her differences, sought her freedom, loved, lost and more. “I am comfortable in the dark, […]

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Wild Foods and Foraging

Crooked Bear Creek Organic Herbs

It’s all rainy days, low slung clouds, and rain on tin-roofs around the Gunnison Valley these days—a much needed, thirst-quenching storm has arrived and settled in.  A perfect excuse for warm coffee, bouquets of flowers on the table, and a book, of course.

It’s also a great time to get well-versed in the foraging dos and don’ts.  There is plenty to learn in the way of safety, sustainability, legalities, terms, and botany in the world of foraging, and its best to have at least a cursory grasp on these things before heading out, wicker basket and clippers in hand.

Today, a word on foraging safety, considerations, and a note on common poisonous plants to the mountain states.  All of which, can be found in Briana’s new book Mountain States Foraging, a guidebook to wild edibles in the mountain west.

Foraging for Briana has been a lifeline to a wild…

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A Bridge Of Shadow ~ An Anthology

By Natalie J. Case

Recently we finished up our second Creativia anthology.  Like the first one, all of the writers started with the same prompt, and had about four months to write.  This time around, their prompt was “The letter/email/missive/message was ominous, if a little vague in the details. “Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone.””

The finished product is an unusual mix of genres and subjects.  Each writer really set off on their own path from the prompt.  As usual, they are give a fair bit of leeway in interpreting the prompt as long as they kept the heart of it the same.

As a result, you’ll find colonial America, Victorian London and fantasy worlds alike.  There are love stories, cautionary tales, and fantasy.  You will find paranormal creatures like wendigos, vampires, Shades, sentient shadows or talking animals.

The six authors represented here took our prompt and each of them headed off in a different direction, and that right there is half the reason I do it!  I love the way creative minds work, and it is a thrill getting to edit (and contribute) to this collection.

Now available on Amazon in kindle and paperback formats, get your copy of A Bridge of Shadow today!

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