Iron-smith

Sixty horsemen rode to town

Through dusty forests greenly brown

To bear the news of their invasions

Plundering lands and wasting nations

Sixty horsemen went around

Killing men and making sound

To spread the word to every one

That terror comes to block the sun.

Only one brave iron-smith

Who iron had been working with,

To build his king a fatal sword,

Ten feet long and thickly broad,

Did look them in the eye,

Sword in hand and head up high.

He killed a score, and then one more,

Slaughtering men and mounts, before,

A well-judged pitching of a pike

Did cause the point to break his skin,

Leaving blood to bathe the spike

That went on further, deep within.

Fare thee well, freebird.

Skip to the trees and sing to the breeze,

And shout to the wide blue seas,

Thy lover has cometh, on thy golden carriage,

To take thee away from me.

Go thee away on thy heavenly trip

And wave me a turned goodbye,

And give me happiness within my being

When I stare into your joyful eye.

Let winds feel warm, as you grow wings

To soar atop their gentle streams;

Directed by him towards a place

Once visited in your dreams.

Be the disappearing speck, afar,

Half hiding in clouds,

Till with a final glint you go

Leaving no slightest scar.

Let stars above shine bright to you,

Let maoons of Earth and Heaven dance,

Let suns from all the universe

Rain light on you as you advance

To realms beyond what I have seen.

Let love and passion bestow themselves

On two of you, both passionate lovers,

And make your time as fair as elves,

Reminding you of childhood dreams,

You once put away on dirty shelves.

So, with my dreams, my love, Goodbye,

Till we again, under sea or sky,

Two wandering souls, one quenched, one thirsting,

To sounds of thousand dams a-bursting,

Find our searching souls, and laughing eyes.

Us and high: Part 3 (me)

People in their houses, please awake and wander out,

The mountains are walking to the sea.

Fall to your knees, oh, fall to your knees.

The mountains are moving with vigour unexpected

To the borders of its land.

It has contemplated jeopardy, to leap ever so gracefully,

And dance with the sun, for the flames held no heat

For his saddened rocky shell,

Before falling into the swirling arms, that, to receive him,

Were held out by the sea, to be drowned without agony,

Visiting her very depths, trying to spy

THe deepest secrets in her sunless beds, but spotting only tombs

Half lit to warn the forward marcher

Of demands that most could never satisfy.

The mountains did dream of reaching deep within

To search for that hidden cave inside,

Whose entrance was bound,

By rocks old and sound,

When as a child, an earthquake had stolen his dreams.

But presently older, and very much bolder,

They protect and follow their dream,

To proclaim to the world, in their bouldery voice,

Their choice.

He heads to the shore with steps that shook

The universe around him.

He looks to the sea, his eyes stinging as she threw

The sun's rays at him with a glint in her skin.

He prepares to leap as shore approaches,

To dance, as planned, with the sun up high,

When a question freezes him in mid-action:

A question thrown from deep within him,

That said, but I have not learnt to swim.

A little college brilliance!

The following is an actual question given on a University chemistry final exam.

The answer by one student was so “profound” that the professor shared it with colleagues via the Internet, which is why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.

Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle’s Law that gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let’s look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that, if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell.

Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell. Because Boyle’s Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay constant, the volume of Hell must expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Sandra during my freshman year, that “it will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,” and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is endothermic and has already frozen over.

The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is extinct…leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being - which explains why, last night, Sandra kept shouting “Oh God!”

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY “A”.

Us and high: Parts 1 and 2

This is an interchange of poetry that me and my darling Popo started when certain substances had worn our barriers away. I feel very strongly that it may be worth recording, and so I do so. Someday it may lead to a compilation for all I know! These are parts 1 (by me) and 2 (be her) ...

Part 1: The Mountain Awakes

Let us go then, you and I,
To where the sea shall meet the sky
And the water boil to the sun's descent.
Let us go and greet the sky,
With staring eyes asking: "Why"?
And be the two, as we, the two, were meant.

Let us spread our wings and fly
Through clouds to 'bove the forests, high,
And hold our hands to guide our lands
To each other's minds,
And take our beings through lovely seeings
Of nature's loved kinds,
Drawn upon the rough earth by her loving hand
And framed up all around us, as we slowly land.

Let us walk past stretching plains
In the meadow amid the palms
Of the mountains high and scaring.
Let us run past trees well fed by rains
To the hidden cave amid their arms,
And walk into the mountains with our daring
Hearts upon us, stop, to look around.

Where never reached a ray of light
Does colour spring from left and right
And smells that should be musty, dank,
Are in their place more up in rank
Than lushly flattered well-made wine,
Or perfumes costing foolish money;
In a league demonic, divine,
That tastes of rum with lime and honey.

Let us go then, you and I,
To where the rebels cross the line,
To where temptation's fingers lie,
And skip between them as we spy
On the mysteries of the other side.
Let us hold the hands of mothers
And be as one as sisters-brothers
Or as richly passioned lovers,
Living life devoid of covers
And greet our dreams, within the other's.

Part 2: The Sea Smiles

Beyond the falcony cliff,
There slept a crystal sea,
Dipped down beyond the frowning rocks,
Into the earthy concave of water.
Swimming with fragrant sea waves,
And flashing on the sand.

Droning to the mountains,
The mountains, her lover,
Speaking words of comfort,
And whispering melody.
She closes her eyes, to sweep back,
To find unbound lores,
From her silent depths.
Then she comes surging back,
With talking songs to unfurl.

In return for her favour,
The mountains, the mighty lord,
To his beloved speaks,
Of his gentle sages,
And their worshipped wisdom.
Sighing upon her fluidity,
He breathes her vapours in,
Bringing her to his dense self,
As she laced him with her ice.

The winking silver peaks,
Laid bare below the sun,
To bask in its glory,
Glimmering with little sparks of fire.
His steep solemnity pays homage,
To the blazing sphere of life,
Offering his icy jewels,
For heaven’s kind acceptance,
Of his lady ether.

From there she drizzles and storms,
In rage ‘cause of her distance from her lover.
She rains into her pristine domain the sea,
Flowing into the calm stretches beyond.
From the seven heavens she brings,
Tales of serenity and peace.
Spreads them along her way meant for the,
Viscous search for her beloved,
To inform him of her flighty adventures.

In peace, wisdom and serenity,
They survive the time.
They chant youthfully of their years,
On earth spent in beauty.
Of anger, rage and sorrow neither spoke,
Nor leave any tell-tale imprints, did they.

Yet another time.

Psydle (= psychedelic doodle)

Miniature

Once more.

Shrewd

Up again.

Kinda fell asleep for a while. There's been a lot of ideas building up inside me, and I'm afraid they'll start rotting f I don't write or draw them out soon. Exams.

The Great Indian Dick-nosed Ball-chin.