XXVIII. (Foreigner)

just spontaneous fun stuff about characters from C.J. Cherryh’s Foreigner series: 

a.  (Bren)

hair plaited, ribboned,
a pocket full of candy-
now to save the world.

b.  (Jase)

gripping the arm rests,
bodily guiding the plane-
no, I don’t want juice.

c.  (Cajeiri)

canceled sleepover
is followed most quickly by
thoughts of space pirates

XXVII. (A legend in your own mind)

what do you want, anyway?
take it and go already.
ah; that’s it- you want to stay.
of all the shameless, petty-
you do realize you’re not
actually here any more,
for all your self-righteous plot?
you have become so removed,
a legend in your own mind,
complete with paradox proved.
soon enough I think you’ll find
I can show myself the door.

mulya Pinkerton’s Badly Written Stories (and Awful Poetry) by Gail Cali.

mulyaPinkerton 1 mulya Pinkertons Badly Written Stories (and Awful Poetry) by Gail Cali.

http://www.lulu.com/content/5866542

This book, written by the admittedly imaginary mulya Pinkerton, is a delightful romp in literary nonsense. It is nothing more than what it claims to be, which is wonderfully uninhibited journaling about things such as werechildren, pickles, and the undoing of reality. The humor is engaging and a bit dark, with shades of Shel Silverstein, Douglas Adams, Walter Moers. (Another reviewer mentioned, of course, Lewis Carroll, and I have to agree.) I thoroughly enjoyed it, and give it bonus points for using the word “isotropy” in a poem.

XXV. (How did that story go again?)

Tell me, how did that story go again?
That starts- Cream colored ponies of quiet
with the sound of prayers carried by the wind
need no feathered wings to secure heaven
and shall be heralded by no trumpet.
Tell me, how did that story go again?
Transiting heather and traveling glen
with no pause to expound upon merit
with the sound of prayers carried by the wind
Prayers sent forth by old women and children
and ones the world does not care to profit.
Tell me, how did that story go again?
How fire flattered and outwitted men
how gentle ponies brilliantly backlit
with the sound of prayers carried by the wind
 flames carried by the wind up the  mountain
raced such a race one could never forget-
Tell me, how did that story go again?
With the sound of prayers carried by the wind.

re The Morgaine Saga

Sort of “found poetry”, and yet not really true “found poetry”.

What I usually do is, I open a book and try to make a poem out of the words nearest the left margin (or the right margin, or the center of the page, depending on my mood; these are all from the left margin).

I wrote these for April being National Poetry Month.

I.

Considered it,
man compelled at once-
no.

Take her orders and the door.
It closed questioningly.

He felt sick- and yet-
there, beginnings remain.

page 65 of The Morgaine Saga (omnibus edition)
Gate of Ivrel by C.J. Cherryh

II.

There-
deep places
often overgrown
in
passage-
the hills,
born to this land
without sleep and rest,
lag by several lengths
at dusk,
against the
sprawling and untidy
maps.

To learn the names
of the land
where spring flowed,
drink
from her hand,
drinking them.

He nodded,
and
little
came
down.

page 413 of the Omnibus edition The Morgaine Saga
Well of Shiuan by C.J. Cherryh

III.

Song was neither outcry nor sheltering.
Do not Lord now if we help that one left-
only sin and his kinfolk.

The hall was long and restless,
wings making fire at last,
quiet without armor,
the hour very well organized.

Eyes that had lain on wars came. “Is it?”
“Aye. Answered, known, and may it be.”

Fifteen hundred years distressed him.

from page 529 The Morgaine Saga (omnibus edition)
Fires of Azeroth by C.J. Cherryh

Cherryh’s The Morgaine Saga (3-1/2 stars)

morgaine Cherryhs The Morgaine Saga (3 1/2 stars)

(Backdating as I read The Morgaine Saga before I read mulya Pinkerton.)

The Morgaine Saga is science fiction-fantasy, and I do not really read a lot of fantasy, esp given that fantasy heroines tend to be decked out in chain mail bikinis or be token playthings. Morgaine, however, is neither. Course she is thought to be a witch, but that is because she is from a distant, technologically advanced world. The last surviving member of the task force sent out to close interplanetary Gates (portals/wormholes) which are undermining the fabric of the universe, Morgaine is stranded on a planet where feudal rules prevail. She proves quite capable of playing by these rules, even though the odds are much against her and her liegeman, Vanye.

The trilogy could just as well be titled The Vanye Saga, as it is told from Vanye’s point of view and Vanye is a most interesting and sympathetic character. At first he is horrified that he has unwittingly entered into an unconditional allegiance to Morgaine, whom he views as a not-human who wields terrible magic. He is caught in a bind- break his oath to her, which would mean the damnation of his soul for all eternity, or keep his oath to her, which would likely mean the same thing. The situation is not unlike his entire life- such being the lot of a bastard son born of a powerful lord and a very unwilling, equally powerful lady of an enemy house. Cursed and cast out for killing his half brother in self-defense, Vanye choses to see his year commitment to Morgaine as a chance at atonement. Once the year is up, he is a free man with a clean slate- he can actually live a life free of the worst of his stigmas.

During the break-neck, miserable struggle for survival that Morgaine’s mission becomes, however, Vanye becomes aware of the awful burden on her and of the secret she carries that could destroy his world and will most certainly destroy her. He realizes that she is oath-bound to something much larger than he has ever known, something beyond the pale of the medieval powers and alliances and forces that want desperately to have it for themselves. Something that another person from far away has come to gain, as well.

The trilogy’s first book, Gate of Ivrel, is set in Vanye’s world and time. Well of Shiuan follows up events, hundreds of years distant on a quite different world(and yet but a momentary hop for Morgaine and Vanye), which have carried over through the gate and become hopelessly entangled with local politics and a looming natural disaster. This most directly spills over into Fires of Azeroth as thousands flee through the gate into yet another world, seeking to take it and the unlimited, unreliable, and unstable powers of the gates for themselves.

The character development is nicely done if not brilliant, the action fast-paced, the plot believable, and the resolution satisfying. Early Cherryh, she’s still learning, but quite enjoyable.

XXIV. (Perhaps my ducks don’t belong in a row)

Perhaps my ducks don’t belong in a row
or confined to a linear spectrum.
A momentary lapse in equipoise    
and you find them diving with sea horses
or waddling whichever direction.
Perhaps my ducks don’t belong in a row
or a column, grid, or cubicle, so
what an absurdity to collect ‘em.
A momentary lapse in equipoise
when their quacking drowns out that inner voice
makes me wish that you wouldn’t upset ‘em.
Perhaps my ducks don’t belong in a row-
what an ecology that would be though-
bristling with military decorum. 
A momentary lapse in equipoise
as if it’s unnatural to suppose
that the better of power is freedom.
Perhaps my ducks don’t belong in a row;
A momentary lapse in equipoise.

XXIII. (Beginnings remain)


Considered it,
man compelled at once-
no.

Take her orders and the door.
It closed questioningly.

He felt sick- and yet-
there, beginnings remain.



page 65 of The Morgaine Saga (omnibus edition)
Gate of Ivrel by C.J. Cherryh

I’d done Shiuan and Azeroth, I figured I should do Ivrel as well. 
Should probably present them as a trilogy, and, uh, in the correct order.  ;)

XXII. (And the room warped back into existence)

And the room warped back into existence,
the old chauvinism: reality.
Waking, I think of today in past tense

and know each action for its consequence
until I shuffle possibility.
And the room warped back into existence,

docile, expected, and mysterious -
Magic retained as liminality.
Waking, I think of today in past tense

though time at all is but convenience
and not requisite to identity.
And the room warped back into existence;

It circumnavigated avoidance
and dismissed my hold on lucidity.
Waking, I think of today in past tense

the present me of some irrelevance -
an intimate shade of mortality.
And the room warped back into existence;
Waking, I think of today in past tense.