skonen_blades: (Default)
There's an event called A Day at the Races where poets go to the horse races and they each pick a horse name at random from each of the seven races and then use that name as a prompt for a poem. At the end of the day, we read out the 'winning' poem from each race and then whatever other poems we think turned out pretty good. It's a fun day.

This is poem 04 from race 04 and my horse's name was Synergy.

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Synergy

Promote synergy
Like Jem and the Holograms
At a business meeting in hell.
For the music industry sacrifice
On the altar of youth
The cash goes in
The cheekbones sharpen
Each gold record taking one soul’s worth
Several gold records putting your soul
Into the negative
With platinum confirming immortality
At the cost of the synergy
Of every reason
You came here
In the first place



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skonen_blades: (Default)
The human eye has rods and cones that line the rear of it
The rods can tell us when a room is dark or brightly lit
The cones are there to detect wavelengths and to colourize
Every sight that travels through our pupil to our eyes

In the vast majority of eyes that look around
Those cones will translate all the world’s colors to be found
Their types are three and they can see the red or blue or green
Six million of them in the eyeball’s optical machine

Our brains use these to paint the massive spectrum we can see.
These three hues mix to make the rest and that’s trichromacy
A MILLION colours riot, dazzle, spill and splash our sight
While all our rods through widened pupils see the dark and light

Dichromats have just two cones so they’re called colour blind
Just ten thousand shades can be perceived inside their mind
But I just learned a few of us have eyes that see much more
Because the types of colour cones in their eyes number FOUR

And from the Greek for four they call it TETRAchromacy
A HUNDRED MILLION colours is what these rare eyes can see
There’s only one or two identified who have this sight
It’s very hard to find them and to bring them all to light

Because our language isn’t well-equipped to sniff them out
If you ask “Hey. Does that look red?” they’ll say, “That’s red. No doubt.”
They’ll identify magenta, salmon, scarlet, pink
Every shade determined in the time it takes to think

We can tell when people CAN’T see what the rest can see
But it’s so hard to test for things like tetrachromacy
Because these folks themselves have no idea about their eyes
They just see what they can see and might not realize

Because we lack the tech right now to truly share their mind
But what will we uncover when we do? What will we find?
I wonder if there’s other things that exist dormantly
In people that don’t know they have a strange ability

Try to think of something that our language can’t define
A talent hiding in plain sight but unseen and benign
A way of life that co-exists with ours quite comfortably
That stares us in the face but still it’s something we can’t see

It might be rare or common and it might be big or small
It might be present in just one or could be in us all
But language, while amazing, can still fail to actualize
And unseen wonders wait inside another person’s eyes



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skonen_blades: (blurg)
April 30/30

6/30

The four horsemen of the apocalypse were boys once. They played in the corral where they were kept. They struggled to find fairness among themselves, unaware that a world existed outside their own experience. As they grew, they were exposed to the idea that there was a world out there for the taking and that it was their job to take it.

As adults, they were War, Pestilence, Famine and Death.

But as kids, they were Arguments, Sniffles, Hunger and Sleep.




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skonen_blades: (Default)
He reeled out of the stinking alley into me. I’d never seen anyone like him and I live in Manhattan so that’s saying something.

For starters, he was nearly eight feet tall and looked too skinny to stand. His hair was several different colours but as I looked at it more closely, it appeared to be made of metal. It sparked just after he bumped into me and the colours in it shimmered and changed like the wings of a beetle before returning to the colours it had been before.

I was fixated on that until I noticed his two extra arms and his tail. I say ‘his’ because his genitals were exposed. He was wearing what appeared to be tight chaps and a red cellophane cardigan.

His backpack was made of metal and smoke plumed out of it. If he hadn’t been staring into my eyes and grabbing my shoulders, I would have backed quickly away from like everyone else on the sidewalk did.

“Pour gras que serachi marta kursk trench ma jakatra, triestin?” he screamed at me. I heard something like a car crash happen deep in the alley. The stranger flinched and looked at me, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, what?” I said.

“Oh. I see. English. Okay. What day is it?” he said to me. His breath smelled like over-ripe strawberries. I noticed his skin was mottled with bruising. He was missing a tooth.

“Uh, Wednesday?” I answered.

He looked at me with that expression like he didn’t understand my language again. He looked at a device on his wrist. I guessed it was a translator. He acted like it was broken. He spoke again, louder and more slowly this time,

“What day is it? Centrus? Martus?” he said.

“Wednesday.” I said back to him.

He shook his head and looked behind him into the alley. There were sounds of a struggle and some impossible sound. If I had to describe it, it was like a sheet of glass being ripped in half. It sounded like something pivotal to reality was being split by force.

“What the DATE, then? The DATE? It’s supposed to be the 46th! Is that correct?” he yelled.

“46th? That’s not….it’s the 13th. March the 13th.” I answered.

“Maaaaaarch” he said and looked at me as if to confirm that he’d pronounced it correctly. I nodded. He looked at his wrist translator in terrified frustration. I realized that his eyes were different colours and that they never blinked at the same time. First one, then the other. Every time.

“Posska DAMMIT!” he yelled and let me go. He seemed to realize that even though I’d spoken to him in the correct language, my information was useless to him.

It was like he was a time-traveler except his frame of reference was useless at his destination.

There was a blue glow from the alley. The traveler who’d accosted me tucked in all four of his arms and ducked into the crowd. It didn’t help.

Tentacles of transparent metal shot out of the alley and entered the traveler's back. He was dragged backwards to the alley’s entrance. He spread his arms wide and grabbed the bricks on either side of the entrance with his impossibly long arms, forming a giant X. He was sweating. He looked at me with clenched teeth. His watch device broke and fell off his straining wrist. He glanced at it and nodded towards me.

“Remember-” he said but a charge of energy came through the tentacles and he shuddered. He was lifted into the air for a moment before disappearing quickly into the shadows of the alley.

There was the sound of thunder and then a sound of reality zipping itself up.

People around me kept on walking, already erasing the parts that had not made sense. I would have been one of them if he hadn't actually grabbed me. I lay on the sidewalk looking at the entrance of the alley. I looked at the wrist device the traveler had dropped. I scuttled forward, picked it up and brought it home.

I’m looking at it right now, daring myself to try it on.



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skonen_blades: (inwalkinhere)
1.


Jack Relnick deputized his wife back in 1874 in one of the few remaining frontier towns. He did it as an anniversary present. It was against regulations then to let a woman be in the force but the town was small and peaceful. No one important in the big-city head office really cared to make an issue of it and she was well-liked by the townspeople. She became the deputy, organizing town meetings and such.

One day, a gang of loud-mouthed, hard-drinking thieves came through town, kidnapped two of the whores, shot the place up a bit, robbed the bank….

….and killed the sheriff.

They left town with the whores.

Jack Relnik’s wife’s name was Shannon. Her maiden name was Wedowitz. She dressed in black out of respect for her dead husband, including a pair of men’s trousers. The star hung shining on her left breast after she'd wiped her husband's blood off it and polished it some. Her eyes were shaded by her black hat. She took up smoking. She was never the same.

She tracked every single one of them sonsabitches down and killed them dead. She did so with a task force assembled from the town that was more than fifty percent women.

She became known as the Black Widow sheriff. Every woman in the town was an official deputy. She kept a few bucks back from the rescued cash and had tin deputy stars made for every woman in the town. Those stars are heirlooms now, proudly displayed in the homes of their descendants.

To this day, they put silver stars on the birth charts of little girls born in the town hospital.


2.


I think a cool name for a band would be Monsters With Timing.

The more I think about it, the better it gets. It might be one of those things, though, where you repeat a word over and over again and it becomes meaningless. Except the opposite. It gets cooler the more you think about it and read stuff into it. That’s what it does for me, anyway.


3.



The toothpaste commercials are very close to being soft-core pornography. Plaqteria dresses in tight pink leather and causes cavities. She has four hot minions named Sugar, Syrup, Sweetness and Saccharine. The run around in your mouth in every toothpaste commercial. It’s a lot of work, running around.

It’s hot in your mouth.

Here comes big strong Crest toothpaste with rippling pecs and a dazzling smile. He beats the minions down with just a shade too much needless violence. Having defeated them, he struggles with Plaqteria before seducing her with his brilliant blemish-free smile. They kiss and he starts to rub against her.

Her lips part. Her eyes widen while his eyes narrow.

Their rubs build in frequency and intensity. There is froth. They grimace in mutual animal ecstasy. They stop in a clinch. She dissolves with a satisfied scream a la the Wicked Witch.

Crest turns to the camera, pushes his now-damp hair back from his forehead and strikes the hero pose.

It’s worthy of note that in every toothpaste commercial, Crest is always played by a different actor but Plaqteria is always the same hot woman. She’s played this part for twenty years. Her old ads when she just started out are collector’s items.

There are unsubstantiated rumours of an old 8mm stag film that she starred in before getting the part.


4.


I want you to bring your passport, your plane ticket, your bus fare, your best sneakers or even your magic beans. I don’t care. But we’re getting the hell out of here.


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skonen_blades: (Default)
These are the four horsepeople of the Repocalypse.

Science, Art, Religion, and Love.

Science rides a clockwork horse. Art’s horse is covered with the brightly coloured handprints of children. Religion floats above a glowing spectral white horse. Love’s horse is pink fading to red at the ankles.

Science has a white labcoat on. She’s wearing safety goggles. She sees the atoms. She defines. There is a condescending smile on her full lips. She is the heaviest one. Her hair is a shining black.

Art is wearing a kimono with a tutu and leg warmers. One arm is covered in lace, one arm is covered in a fishnet sleeve. Her make up is hundreds of colours. Smears of gold, blue eyeshadow under one eye, chalk. She is a collage of colour. She’s a riot of creativity. Her hair is a rainbow of colour. Her eyes don’t match. Even her teeth glitter with metal and jewels.

Religion has a black suit on. On her lapels are small gold pins of the symbols of the world’s religions. They glitter like the badges on a general’s uniform. She has a halo and large white wings that trail behind her. She is the most beautiful of the three. She has a shaved head and large dark eyes. She is rapturous.

Love is a plain looking woman in jeans and a rumpled red men’s shirt. She’s wearing cheap red shiny pumps that fit well in her stirrups. She’s wearing a violet cowboy hat with a turquoise stone set in the front. Her red hair is tied back in a frizzy bun. She has an easy laugh. She’s the eldest.

They are here to restart the Earth after the destruction wrought by their older brothers. They are the less publicized other quartet.



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skonen_blades: (heymac)
West Death Winter, South War Summer, East Famine Autumn and North Pestilence Spring.

I was so embarrassed. I was saying all this bad stuff about Winter when she was standing right behind me. That’s how I got this streak of white in my hair. She touched me there so that I wouldn’t forget. Boy was my face red.

We’re all looking at each other with feral gleeful smiles. The freight elevator is taking us and our mounts down to ground level. Well, except for Pesty. He’s getting off in the upper stratosphere over the North Pole near the hole in the ozone layer. The door dings and opens out onto thin air. I can see the top of North America down there past the scudding clouds. Pestilence jumps out laughing and gallops across the jetstream. His horse glitters and shines a sick greeny blue like the chitin of a beetle. It’s like there’s an oil-slick rainbow hidden just below the skin that glints here and there with the light. Pesty’s skin is a pastel green and his smile is putting identical bloody splits into his face where his dimples used to be.

He’s a fast healer, that Pesty. He has to be.

We let Fammy off in Ethiopia. She’s going to show them how to really get it right this time. After that, she’s going to slip across the water on her black horse after Pesty has had his way with the water and oops, there goes the fish. There are going to be whale-pod carcass archipelagos dotting the ocean. The iridescent skin of marine life is going to pave the waves with silver cobblestones for Fammy to ride her horse over to North America. Next stop, Kansas. Her black eyes glitter in her skeletal black face.

Big D is more of an overseer. The manager. He’s the oldest and keeps us in line. He kind of sweeps up after us. He’s going to make sure we’re doing our jobs right. He’s just going to pop in here and there and give us pointers and keep us all in contact in between soul collections.

He’s the only one that has a horse that doesn’t match his colour scheme. A few nights ago over poker we had this idea that maybe his horse is actually Life and he rides it like he’s a living Yin Yang symbol or something. The pairing of light and dark. He had no comment. We laughed our asses off.

I’m the last one to get off. My stop is China. I’m so excited. They call me Warren to piss me off but this time I’ll show my siblings that no one is going to get in my way. The size of this army is incredible! China’s government has been planning for years while everyone else focused on the Middle East. It’s going to be great. I’ve got a third of the world to use against the rest of it.

I’m bright red and while in most countries that colour is a sign of danger or blood, here in China it’s a sign of good luck. I goose the flanks of my giant red horse and cycle my armour through to something a little more Eastern. I pull out my flaming sword and I’m welcomed like a god.



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