Note: Last edited 4/17/22. Audie stared up at the trees. Could he do it? Could he walk forward into the unknown? A moment’s thought would dissuade him, he knew. He lunged past the first trunk, and the forest appeared behind
Kill them, O men brave and proud, it’s all we can do; They’re barbarians, wretches, inhuman blood-stew. You cannot dare spare them, the vile and the damned. Tear them and rip- not men, just beasts. Understand? That child, a murderer,
Note: Last edited 8/3/20. Richard leaned against a rock, chest working, cold air roughing up his throat. Darn spring mornings- beautiful, sure, but the chill was no fun when all you wanted to do was lie down and start breathing
Note: An old poem of mine, a presaging of my poetry’s tendency towards grimness and written from the perspective of an unnamed narrator. I had been reading some World War One poetry. Men are beasts, no, not beasts but birds,
Note: This allegorical story was last significantly edited 1/28/20. The stained glass had a story, a story few remembered and fewer told, for it was, they thought, a silly legend, unworthy of telling in these days of grand scientific fact.
Note: An old poem that’s based off of John Buchan’s Richard Hannay series, though not off of the main character. I’m a lord in Scotland’s beauty, I’m a man in Mecca’s halls, I’m a Frenchman’s waiter by day, I’m a
Note: A fantasy poem about the Whispering Mountains lasted edited 11/5/19. Poem includes a mention of a character who remains in the background of my stories, albeit under a different name. Heroes with songless tongues, hear my cry, trumpet my
Note: An edited version of one of my earliest attempts at poetry, a bit of dark humor. Me lads, I’ll dance, I’ll dance for ye, Before Judge Marion’s pole, Dance like a man with a doddery leg, Who’s never been
Note: A short bit of prose written 6/22/20. You have before you a painting, older than it appears, older than the pyramids of Aegyptus, a masterwork depicting a dragonslayer- though the creature isn’t a dragon, not yet. The fire writhes
Note: Last edited 2/3/18. A fantasy poem about a bit of my unifying world, set in its far past. Darkness fills this land once bright, And light escapes mortal sight. Man wanders through desert long. This land knows not right