It was the best of times, It was the worst of times

Word Count:

Book of Heliotropic Fairy Tales: 

a. Fruitloop and Frankenstein (69463 words, Writing w the Mrs)  

b. Heir of Sunfire: Rewriting 9 chapters, 1/9 done

c. The Three Mice that See (Not Written)

c.  Grenademan vs the Lich (25340) (Waiting now for completion of Fruitloop and Frankenstein because the next chapter depends on it)

Armor of Stone: 44368 

Ludicrous Items: 84523

I, Ashera: 10843

Things have changed.   It has been a year since my day job informed me my position was being phased out by reorg; and turns out getting a job is a lot harder than it used to.   I'm doing a respectable (even honorable) minimum wage job while the Mrs continues her civil service job, but things are tight.  It means that things that I was previously determined to do my way can no longer be 'Hobbies I approach with a professional approach.' 

I swore I would never submit to another gate keeper, but have sent "Army of Fire" to an agent.  Not holding my breath, the individual is prestigious but has a rep for sometimes taking months at time.   It means that I need to drastically accelerate moving my works from Amazon to non Amazon areas (Yes I'm desperate for cash, but Amazon steals my work for AI training and does whatever it wants with it; no thank you.)   I've sent the Queen in Blue to Ingram Spark.

It means I need to do more podcasts, and set up a Patreon, maybe even a substack.  I might also do a kickstarter.   We'll see. 

Living in Salem

 Living in Salem has its perks.

[Poem] Pinball Casserole

 by Emmit Other

The stars say your chosen
But your life is a joke
The world is full of wonder
But makes you wanna toke
Unlimited power coming
That you must never use
That leaves just my two hands
But the Dark Triads they Accuse
They know that I can see them
And to the sheep the lie
I'm supposed to be a Shepard
But they just make me want to die
I can unlock secrets
That others never find
But I'm so fucking strange
That they just stay there in my mind
I didn't ask to be strange
Though I've tried to choose the wise
Instead I'm in the void
Former friends me then despise
The truth is not what people
Really want to know
They line up for the Triads
And their blood cult carny show.

 

The World Soup: A Symphony of Pandemonium

What happens when cosmic exploration, interdimensional warfare, sentient vegetables, celestial benefactors, and an inexplicably large pink toad collide?

Welcome to The World Soup: A Symphony of Pandemonium, a surreal journey through a universe where absolutely anything can happen, and frequently does.

From the Champions of the Portal and the mysterious Lictaire to planetary upheaval, botanical transformations, and a culinary apocalypse, this fantastical poem careens between science fiction, high fantasy, absurdist comedy, and outright linguistic mayhem.

Expect prismatic forests, impossible creatures, dancing ice cream, the Grapes of Wrath, and a chef wielding a particularly ominous cleaver.

Reality is optional. Gravy is inevitable.

Tossing Grenades at Windmills presents an extraordinary exercise in imaginative storytelling, collaborative absurdism, and the glorious unpredictability of creative expression.

Runtime: 15 minutes, 10 seconds.

Episode artwork: Featuring Hieronymus Bosch's public domain masterpiece, The Garden of Earthly Delights.

The end comes with gravy and mashed potatoes.

The Queen in Blue - The Lost Story

[Poem] Heck of a Show

by Emmit Other

Can you hear

Can you hear

The callipee music playing

Emphasis on the pee

Humans are usually like a dumpster fire

Of opposing conflicting ideas

16 impossible ways

Before breakfast

Before breakfast

But the men who think themselves

Apex

Ultra Supra Mega Alpha

Predators

Are the first

The first Say I

To wet themselves in the face of cosmic horror

So now you hear the Caliopee music

Playing as they wet themselves

Themselves they wet

Don't you fret

Im sure you've met

The Ultra Supra Mega Alpha

Who wet themselves

Who wet themselves

Like walking dollies

That can cry

And can take a bottle

So afraid

Of what's inside

What's inside

What's inside is shit

An ugly bag of shit

In a kitchen plastic bag

A plastic bag of shit

They know they're empty

Empty shells

Empty shells

Plastic bags of shit

Real honor does not hide

It is just is

It is just is

And does the wee just sit right there

If you've eyes to see

Ultra Supra Mega Alpha wet themselves

Wet themselves

If you show a mirror

They cannot stand

Cannot stand

Defiance

Brittle snowflake eggshells

Walking on them

Walking on eggshells

The tiny tiny outer shell

Wrapped around

A plastic bag with dogshit

[Poem] The Invisible Moon

 by Emmit Other

The Invisible Moon

To the Invisible Sun

Seems the province of chaos mad

But its as constant as the tide

Open your inner eye

And lay your preconceptions aside

The lidless mirror beyond

I cannot lower barriers

That are part of who I am

I am a riddle unto myself

Despite the white noise spam

I see myself to atomic scale

But there are endless tides ashore

I expedition regularly
And inside myself explore

I've been a psychonaught

Since I was 12

And find new frontiers by day

But what seems intermentant isnt chaos

That is only part of what I say

Order Chaos Fire and Water

Earth and Fire Magic and Skill

Light and Night and Mind and Might

Orbit Ka's fulsome kill

Imagination real and yet the real shadows

I know my mortal coil's day

And yet do not drown in deathly sorrows.

 

[Poem] Shadows and Granite

 by Emmit Other

 I had someone tell me once

They thought I might be a Statue

I intimidate others

Because of the strength of my convictions

I am self aware 

Because those convictions matter

"I am Not Them"

Has been a priority

From the earliest days

I keep my word

I do what I say

I mean what I say

And I almost always follow through

I know my paranoia is my greatest flaw

But most of the callous betrayals

The seemingly impossible circumstances

That no rational person would believe real

Have literally all happened to me

My paranoia is learned experience

And feeds into my intensity

So if the latest shadow I'm not chasing

Because its a game

Is real

I wont touch it

But the Blue Rook will make their results

Interesting to say the least

I have mastered my demons

And I do not feed every dark thing

That feeds off of human suffering

Especially the shadows

I could be wrong

And will wait it out

But I'm done feeding drama demons

And I'm done denying 

That these things happen

What is

Is What Is