Category Archives: Dating

LINEAR TURMOIL: Liquid Time A to Z Blogging Challenge 2021

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LINEAR TURMOIL

LIQUID TIME

“Every second is of infinite value.” ~ ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe





(ZV)

Nomad(s) of Infinitum.

Transient(s) of the spatial dimensions

They absorb the Tenth Dimension.

A single point.

All possibilities.

Branches of every potential universe.

(ZV) savors Apeiron

Yet the thought along the line:

Definite or Incomplete?

TRANSITION

Z will enter/has entered/never be in the Float Pod

Valentina refused/refuses/never enters the Lab

Z will take/is taking/remembers IVs of Modifal-70 from 200 mg to the final dosing of 1000 mg.

Five sessions in a row.

Z will undergo/undergoes/will have gone through rounds of gene and body modifications.

Valentina would/will/has regret(s) supervising the procedure(s).

Things lost control.

Things were never in control.

TRANSITION

volcanic eruptions stardust shattered dreams rising falling waves of despair love hatred denial no know known believe belief rituals symbolic pedestal entombed buried airless space time khronos forget forgot lost unclear foggy rain downpour floods levees dams bursting opening hallway echo repeat again again again

TRANSITION

The Lab

Float Pod Conn

Dr. Karen Capri has upper management up her ass. She has been bombarded with questions, demands, threats, quasi-pleading, and distaste. The lab’s repair costs. The dead technician. The disappearance of Subject Z and Dr. Marin. The “Why don’t you have an answer for us, Dr. Capri?” in its non-stop versions.

The last two nights Karen had fallen back on old ways through medical schooling. Adderall to Methamphetamine to blow. Non-stop stimulants, pushing herself to find the answers-any answer-that would relieve the attacks on her competency. There was no way she would allow them to take the yoke of blame on all of this, to become their scapegoat, their sacrificial lamb, the one to crucify.

Three days, high on uppers.

Something had to break.

The console screamed.

Karen raced to shut off the speakers, cursing the entire way from her office.

She did not make it to the Lab.

(ZV) was floating in her way.

KHRONOS, FIXED: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge 2019

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KHRONOS, FIXED

LIQUID TIME

“As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.” ~ ~ Henry David Thoreau

Z dragged V synchronously

through time as a variable

plowing through constants

converted t=d/s through m/t = rVa

Inseparability minus permanence

Undergoing

TRANSITION

Falling through fissures in space, witnessing

TRANSITION

Moments of conceptualizations, births, meetings, lovers, divides, becoming, endings, rebirths

TRANSITION

Motes in each other’s eyes

TRANSITION TRANSITION TRANSITION TRANSITION TRANSITION TRANSITION

Touching down with unerring precision

Experiencing

Changing

Expunging

Becoming

Overcoming

TRANSITION

To become love

To forge destruction

To navigate the river of time in its unremitting flow

To navigate the river of time

To navigate the river

To Navigate

Z sprawled to be TIME

V implored Z to STOP

(ZV) unfolded,

they touched the hem of Ti…

KHRONOS

took notice

“If time and reason are functions of each other, if we are creatures of time, then we had better know it, and try to make the best of it. To act responsibly.”

~ ~Ursula K. Le Guin

Comments are always welcome and appreciated.

Thank you.

JANICULUM AT A JUNCTURE: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge 2021

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JANICULUM AT A JUNCTURE

LIQUID TIME

“Time brings all things to pass.” ~ ~ Aeschylus

elsEwhen XI

Z ░ V

Z ▒ V

Z▓V

Z∞V

JANICULUM

The Goddess strode into Janiculum through the Gates of Prógramma Spoudón. Her long, unbound hair trailed, tendrils caressing those in her wake. The colors shifted with every other step, taking on the hues of the flowers of the land. Some colors came from other realities, yet none in her presence remarked on the uniqueness. Tall, shapely, skin of a golden-olive hue, caught each eye, young and old alike.

The city-state was festooned with garlands of the sweetest aroma of the scythed. Purple hued feathery fronds, strung through the masses of golds, reds, yellows, and blues. It had taken a harvest to adorn the Goddess Alcyeyx’s walk way to her temple.

Deep genuflections as she passed. The muddy streets stained the linen Himation the populace wore. None were concerned. Their Goddess had arrived. Cheers of “Bless the Winds. Bless the Seas” reverberated throughout. The surrounding mountains concurred in receding echo.

Omens of dire times to come were brushed away with Alcyeyx’s arrival. The Oracle of the Peak wailed her laments to deaf ears once the Goddess arrived. Submitting to the inevitable, the Oracle retreated before the Sun vanished into the ocean. She knew she would return. After.

Rituals were cast, wine flowed, the food was plentiful. Everything was carried to excess. Children with slightly bloated bellies lay fast asleep on straw, patches of grass, and the shorn gardens. They nestled in the land of dreams.

The wine was never ending. Alcyeyx bequeathed that to her people, her devotees, her sacrificial stream. The crowds grew raucous as the skies went black. Fights were few; love making was key. Other lands degraded their festivals, the obscene, to them, rendering of garments, the cries of passions, the coming of more children being placed.

All of those in Janiculum were lost in their revels, as was Alcyeyx. Many women of youth and of age tasted the Goddess’s lips, felt the strong soft gliding over their unadorned flesh. As many came to Alcyeyx as she went to her worshippers. All were left beyond sated.

Except.

Except Alcyeyx, whose inner turmoil, the two sides of her constantly clashing, left part of her drained as the other part was elated. This had been the way of things since their metamorphosis. Two strong essences tugged, one always angry, the other mad. Or so the Angry One crowed.

Ten times ten², or when counting ended, were the battles, the pleas, the promises…

Z always called V out on the promises. For a while after, things would subside.

The call of the winds at the ascending sun found Alcyeyx looking beyond the walls of this beloved stronghold. Janiculum was one of the few things they embraced. Yet, the need for elsEwhen called.

The Goddess lifted her arms, raised her chin, and felt the West Wind blow her hair East.

If anyone had been awake at this juncture, they would surely have noticed the golden-olive hued Kingfisher take to the skies and then…

Khione, Nymph of contempt and snow, took satisfaction in Alcyeyx’s leave-taking.

Now, it was Khione’s time to take.

TRANSITION

The Kingfisher squabbled with itself, as it phased into the void.

TALES OF TALE SPINNING

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©Edward Gorey

TALES OF TALE SPINNING

OR

The A to Z Epics, More or Less

I started Tale Spinning at the beginning of 2011 as an offshoot of BornStoryteller. The latter went more towards non-fiction, rants, comparisons, and observations. Tale Spinning: an experiment in creative writing was the space I needed.
Since then, I’ve gone through periods of both non-stop writing and those “dry” spells, where nothing inspired or motivated me.

Joining the A to Z Blogging Challenge in April 2011 was one of the smartest moves I’ve ever made. I’ve pushed my own boundaries over the ten years, always looking for that “challenge.” Taking risks is stimulating. A lot of what I write is expressing what is burning within me at the moment.

Which is probably why I have trouble continuing plunging into the worlds and characters I’ve built over the years. The roller-coaster upheaval of my life during these last ten years have jaggedly flowed from euphoric to complete and utter numbness. This isn’t a pity party. Just stating the facts, ma’am.

Many bloggers/writers I have “met along the way have become family. What is “Family is Chosen” for $2,000, Alex?” (Man, I miss Alex Trebek. Right now, I am Team Levar Burton to become the new host. Reading Jeopardy Rainbow!). It’d take me the rest of the day (it’s early here) to point you all out, but my thanks and love are hereby sent. I even met the woman I love writing these blog posts during that first A to Z. Present tense, even though we are not together anymore.

Shit happens.

Anyways.

List Time. In case, you know, want to read past (and present) A to Z attempts. Each set starts with A on April 1st of that year. There might be a few preceding posts/teases over the years as I tried out the new voice I was shooting for.

A TO Z POSTS

Here’s something not A to Z that I’d love to get your feedback/comments. I keep getting drawn back to it on an emotional/mental level, but have not added a thing to it in quite a while. These were written during the summer of 2011.

The Kitsune-Mochi and Fox Saga

FLEETING: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge April 2021

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FLEETING

Liquid Time

A to Z Blog Challenge

“Time is a companion that goes with us on a journey. It reminds us to cherish each moment, because it will never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we have lived.” ~ ~ Captain Jean-Luc Picard

Zero hour. Day. Era. Epoch. Eon. Aeon.

Z subdivides along a non-unilinear line. Stopping milliseconds to absorb, dispel, bask.

Those are the fragments where a thought filters through.

Z assembles the pieces. Z experiences every emotional spectrum idea, searching for

Love.

Z does not believe in love. Love, to Z, equates to Pain.

Pain is a constant. Love=Pain never has/is/will be love ≠ pain. It is exact. For Z, it is exact.

There are no approximates.

Any/every instance Love touches Z is followed by an infinite drop.

Z is lost.

Inside, Z is lost in gathering specifics. The pure, unwavering distillation of Z’s perception of Love.

The amassing is complete.

Z stretches the limits of time to compact and keep.

The next second arrives.

Without the pain association. Z is blocking out the aftermath, the thrown away aspect, the being left, unnoticed, unwanted.

Another point arrives. The whole splinters.

Z

TRANSISTION

NEW!!!! TALE SPINNING is also a Podcast!

I plan to start recording MY reading of my posts. Maybe by 5/12/2021. Knowing me, maybe 2022. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the narration.

You can find Tale Spinning on:

Spotify iTunes PocketCasts Breaker Google Podcasts RadioPodcast (last two awaiting verification).

Tale Spinning, the Podcast, will include past series, interviews, and more.

Please Support Tale Spinning.

You can subscribe on any of the above platforms.

Comments are always welcome.

ElSeWHEN: Liquid Time A to Z Blog Challenge April 2021

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ELSeWHEN

Liquid Time

A to Z Blog Challenge

“Forever is composed of nows.” ~ Emily Dickinson 

Z thought as a black whole.

Z experienced everything at this/that moment without color.

Z tasted in shadows.

From the shadows came terror.

Z was a variant of a virulent tinnitus strain. Z was at a fixed point of -50 dB.

Z is the shriek that passes through the outer, middle, and inner structures, vibrating into an E Tube.

Traveling is a poor word of choice for Z in this state of being. Peripatetic is more to the point. Z travels from place to place, being to being, dimension by gradation of planes of existence

Z connects.

There are multitudes of levels of every emotional path that any can experience . Z knows.

There are a multitude of levels of pain. Hundreds of millions of points of view involving hundreds of millions of junctures, phases, factors, accents, factors. Z connects to All. All. All.

Z is at zero hour.

TRANSISTION

THE LAB

FLOAT POD con

“Stop fussing. Stop. I’m fine.”

Pushes hand away.

I said stop!”

Cursing, the medic walks out.

“Karen, there is nothing I can add to my statement.”

Debris is being removed. New equipment is being installed.

“Look, Val. Standard BS to make them happy. I know you. I know. Knew, Tyson. Just tell me what you edited out.”

Glare met stare.

“I do not have all day, Dr. Fill in the fucking blanks.”

Takes glass. Sips water. Another sip.

“VAL!”

“Tyson didn’t screw up. I did not screw up. He was being an ass, as usual.”

Pause.

“Fine. You heard the Banshee call. You heard the escalation. Then the cessation. The console sparked. I woke up on the steps, behind the railing.” Sips. “No, again, I have no idea how I wound up there. The pain in my back, my battered face? Stairs. Boom.”

Stare.

“Why did you break Tyson’s fingers?”

Pause.

“I…”

“Why did you break Tyson’s fingers?”

Pause.

Head turns. Sees FP. Nothing. Still in one piece.

Head still turned away.

“Jackass was reaching to mute. The data coming in and Tyson thought he was going to the mute button. He reached too far. He was going to incinerate the inside of the pod.”

“And?”

“He couldn’t hear me, damnit. He couldn’t hear me call out. I went for his wrist. My eyes were vibrating. Wrist. Hand. Fingers. I needed to stop him. So, I did.””

“And?”

Staring at the Float Pod. Shrugs shoulders.

Heartbeats pass.

“OK.”

Nod of head.

A chukka boot approaches.

Hand taps her shoulder.

“Dr. Marin? I need you to come with me, ma’am.
Her head turns to the other woman.

“Go with him, Valentina. Go. I’ll be with you again. Soon.”

Dr. Valentina Marin leaves what’s left of the lab.

She does not turn to look back.

THIS IS THE DAY Z DOES NOT DIE

Too Often: a Villanelle

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Too Often, by S. Nager

Walk away. Walk away. Alone. Apart

Be dismissed, discarded, a second thought.

Now hide every piece of your broken heart

 

 

Love fractures, splits, by an uncaring dart

Shattered pieces, a broken soul is taut

Walk away. Walk away. Alone. Apart.

 

 

With love’s ending comes a yearn to depart

Disregarded love that never was sought

Now hide every piece of your broken heart

 

 

Each time, within your grasp, a fresh new start

Drifted, drifted, gone, even though you fought

Walk away. Walk away. Alone. Apart.

 

 

What was conceived more emotion not smart

Gave of yourself love could not be caught                                                 

Now hide every piece of your broken heart

 

 

Dreams of fidelity, hopes to restart

All dashed and ignored from a life so fraught,

Walk away. Walk away. Alone. Apart.

Now hide every piece of your broken heart

 

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Author’s Note:

I used the poetic form of a Villanelle for the above poem. This is my first attempt as this was new, to me. Dylan Thomas’s “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night” is a prime example of this poetic style. It is a 19 line poem with 5 Tercets (3 lines) that follow an ABA rhyme pattern, and one Quatrain (4 lines) to end the poem. Its rhyme pattern is ABAA. The last two lines of the Quatrain are the Refrain (which I crafted first) and they are used in the 2nd to 5th Tercet, intermittently. Thomas use of the 10 syllables per line harks to Elizabethan/Shakespearian Sonnets.

This was a bit challenging at first. I’m glad I tried it. I’ll probably do more, as I did with Sonnets over the years.

Remember: comments are always welcome.

That Morning

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Maori-Grey-Color-Ink-3D-Cracked-Face-Tattoo-On-Boys-Hand-For-Man
Pulled up to the curb
Hated building in sight
Drive shifted to Park
Pinging from under the hood

Tools for the day gathered
Unsnapped restraints
Body free
Yet, an unexpected hellish message came to me

Heavy chills from that winter day
Were nothing to the inward heat
Words tore through the chest
Filling up a now empty cavity

Pain sat in those words
Brushing off; tossed away
Snow fell in furried force
Muddled mind filled with numbing pain

The words made no sense
Content denied
The words finally made sense
As what was left flew away

No awareness of time falling away
Park was gone; drive remained
Yet no destination set
To a melted mind


We don’t grow when things are easy.

We grow when we face challenges.” ~ Joyce Meyer

Mathematical Equations Flow into a Bear’s Winter Den.

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Mathematical Equations Flow into a Bear’s Winter Den.

“You should let it go”

The Grizzly snapped

Claws sharp and bright

“Stop the hoping;

Nothings coming back!”

As the Bear pounces on you,

Teeth clamping on

Growling “No one’s complete.”

She’d advance then goes still

Hot breath steaming your face.

Your legs quiver

Barely holding you up

As eyes bore into yours

You can’t look away for

No place to retreat.

“Prove it!” she demanded

Pushed full weight against the rocks

“What do you think you deserve?

What offers can you keep?”

She came to you,

Not the other way

Break all the fucking rules

Then she came, then pushed away

Retreating then imploring

Over tumbling common ground.

Repeating past confusions,

Not again, not again

There’s a challenge, a test

It’s denied. unspoken, yet

Rend your mind wide

Show that you bend,

Expectations leveling out

Leaving little behind.

Except you.

You are easily left behind.

Unique in a good way,

“Not trashed,” she opined.

In that moment

Invisibility leaps forth

Blurring the Grizzly from taking

More than you’re worth.

It ripped into you

Left bleeding before the crowds

Who feeds into the invisible shroud

You’ve donned again, for as always,

It is always around.

“Prove it!” was demanded

Never given the chance

So, you are forced to turn and run.

You stumble,

Head an aching mess.

And you trip, you fall

Excoriated, shattered, so fucking deep.

It is easy to hide

You’ve established that fact

Yet a question remains:

Is it easier to just die?

 

 

 

The Dismissed or The Way

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I wondered why I was here.

Then you appeared

Keeping distant, but there

On the edge of discomfort

The need sweeping through

I wondered why

You appeared

Have you felt being stuck

Inside a dreadful memory?

Splinters of hurt

Aching enveloping

Drawn inwards

Trying to let it slip away

Holding onto it with desperate claws

“I’m tired” leaves the lips

Wafting out uncontrolled

I still wondered why

You appeared

After I have given up

You tell someone close

Thoughts of the fears

From your history, resurfacing

Wanting to be listened to

To be understood

“Just get over it.

Let it go.”

Platitudes of dismissal

Of what you say

For not fitting in with

How they live their lives

So you shut up,

Refusing to open more

Feelings and mindset are mine

But run over,

Sunk into the muck of expectations.

You appeared.

Dreading another rerun

Of relationships past

You appeared

A question of what if

Holds fast to the negatives

You

Hold too much hope

That this time will be different

Or will it dig a deeper hole

That embraces being tired

And you wonder, anew

Why are you here?

Why am I here?

Then you appeared.