C.G.Ayling

Blog

  • Nothing new? Not true…

    Looking at my blog, makes things seem particularly quiet. Indeed, lots is happening right now.  I’m on a blog tour, and looking for blogs to host me, either for interviews, or for guest posts.

    Read my first ever Fairy Tale, titled “A Crystal Tear“.  Must say, I’m delighted with the responses to it on twitter, might even keep the story going.

    I’ve been traveling far more than I desire, not the joyful kind, that pleasure is, but the pressure kind, that work is.  No end to that in sight – oh well, no peace for the wicked, as they say.

     

  • By another name

    By another name…

    Maria, by another name
    Reveal your heart,
    and share your pain.
    With friendship’s start,
    joy, do we all gain.
    Within your soul,
    should be no shame.
    To us you show,
    your heart so true,
    so let our love flow,
    from we… to you.
    A healed heart,
    a tender kiss,
    such pure love,
    is not remiss.
    ~

  • Karma’s Cost.

    I logged into Twitter this morning, full of good cheer – only to discover my account had been suspended for “Sending multiple unsolicited @messages”.

    Yesterday, I participated in what I believe to be a worthy tradition. The #FF, which I understand to mean Follow Friday. I considered #FF a valuable tool, as I’ve personally used it to find new people worth following. I mentioned some of the people who have interacted with me, most of them multiple times, during the course of last week.

    Apparently the Twitter powers that would be don’t like this behavior, because some time after I logged out for the night, {probably seven or eight hours after I sent my #FF’s} they decided to suspend my account. I guess Twitter consider themselves exempt from Karma’s rules, one of which I detailed as:-

    Karma: a force you initiate, yet cannot control or invoke on another. #thought

    It seems very much like Twitter invoked Karma on me, doesn’t it?

    Only, on the surface… {Yes, I know Twitter is an organization, and Karma really doesn’t apply, but bear with me.} Punishing me, for attempting to repay the accumulated goodwill of people kind enough to interact with me, has damaged them in my eyes. They’re a big organization, however enough little bursts of damage to their goodwill, will eventually cost them.

    I understand Twitter’s decision was probably the result of a program looking for malicious behavior – however, that program needs to act a little more intelligently, or people are going to take offense, just as I have.

    Twitter’s action toward me is like having the host of a party slap me in the face for introducing a few of my friends to each other. It is not pleasant. Frankly, it makes me want to leave this particular party – of course I’m not going to do anything hasty, but the desire is there, thanks to a single act on Twitter’s part. Which reminds me of another tweet:-

    Speak with care, for people remember a kind word for but a day, a cruel one forever.

    Acts, might be worse than words.

  • Twisted Reality

    Does anyone remember the crucifixion of Michael Jackson in the court of public opinion, as hosted by the mass-media? I certainly do. The treatment of Lance Armstrong strikes me the same way, I see hidden agendas in many elements of this matter, and feel sorely troubled.  These troubling thoughts prompted this free-form verse – however, many elements are applicable to anyone who realizes we’re manipulated daily by masters in deception’s art – the mass-media.

    Pardon it’s raw nature, or not – I don’t care.  {Yes, I do – or I wouldn’t hurt myself, and trouble you.}

    Without further ado, here is another strange, rambling poem / song. Composed to the silent sounds of Pink Floyd in my memory.

    ~Twisted Reality~

    Why strip the wings
    From those who cannot fly
    Show us something more
    Than this unreal dream
    Not true reality
    Not the place I want to be
    This false reality.
    ~
    Snap a picture of a scowling face
    And splash it all over the place
    That man’s clearly insane
    He’ll do anything for gain
    Least, that’s what the mass-media
    Tells us, and tells us,
    and tells us, again
    no care they show,
    for another’s pain
    in current reality
    ~
    We wonder if it’s fair
    Does the world not care.
    The world we live
    Is not a dream
    But it’s not real
    Everyday
    someone tears our dreams away
    rips and shreds
    Our fragile reality
    ~
    The mass-media lies
    The truth they easily hide
    With deception far and wide
    Scowling pictures make the man
    Into a monster true
    Sending texts to me and you
    Their lies never cost our trust
    In their old reality
    ~
    Social media might be the way
    uncover all the old way’s lies,
    there is no agenda here
    one day the truth might be
    Everyone’s reality
    ~
    Social media lights the way
    Throw the newspaper away
    It has no place with me,
    In my new reality
    ~
    Rip off my crown
    Tear me down
    Throw me to the ground
    It’s where I want to be
    Thrown from your reality
    ~
    Come take me by the hand
    Lead me to a better land
    A place where people care
    Where no one stares
    Where they see me
    as who I strive to be
    Not what the mass-media makes of me
    In their old reality
    ~
    Discredit me
    When I don’t do what you
    Want me to
    Look in the mirror
    Before you cast that stone
    For it, you will atone
    In the new reality
    ~
    We can’t let him win
    No no, not again
    Someone stole my life away
    I woke up one day
    To find it ripped away
    But I don’t know why.
    Or which reality
    ~
    I woke up again today,
    this nightmare, still in play
    found my titles stripped away,
    I never rode those rides
    It was the drugs that did,
    Least that’s what they said
    Does that make those years
    disappear…
    vanish into smoke,
    in a haze of dope.
    Is what they say the truth,
    No, not to me
    Their undone tests and proofs
    Don’t show the real truth,
    least not in my heart.
    Not, in a fair reality
    ~
    Rehashed tests and
    Contrived lies that seem true
    Don’t that make my climb
    into the saddle
    A lie…
    Not in my eye.
    Not, in my reality
    ~
    I never rode those hills,
    There were no ups and downs,
    All I did was lie, and steal
    Least that is the way,
    They’d have you think of me.
    So believe them or me,
    That choice is up to you,
    This is your reality
    ~
    Ends come, and I go
    my life, is finally my own
    Cause I’m a self-made man
    at the race’s end,
    My conscience, is clean.
    I’m who and… as I am.
    In all realities.
    ~

  • Hoodless, is little red riding…

    A {JuliaGem}.

    My wife knows almost everyone in our neighborhood. While driving, Julia often tests her amazing memory.

    Usually my wife names everyone, till one morning we saw a heavily set woman wearing a red overcoat.

    Julia asked, “Who is that?”

    Without hesitation, my wife answered, “Little Red Riding Hood, without the hood.”

    Julia immediately quipped back, “And without the little…”

  • A child’s poem, to her mother.

    Following, is a true treat for any parent.

    My favorite youngest child wrote a poem for her mother, as a gift for Christmas. I received a more practical, yet equally thoughtful gift from her – a pack of cushion soled socks – they cushion both my soul, and my feet, and I have my stock replenished each Christmas, by my choice.

    Without further delay, here is Julia’s hand written poem, reproduced faithfully, un-embellished, and true.

    From my mum
    I have learnt
    so many things,
    how to bake and,
    how to sew
    so many things
    others don’t know
    but most of all
    I have learnt to
    Survive amist
    this aphotic world
    Not with Hate
    Not with avarice
    But with kindness
    That comes from
    the Heart.

    Does a parent’s pride ever bow before reality? #thought

    With a child as wonderful as Julia is, there is no need, for her words are closer to reality, than my own.

  • mortality’s short, sweet kiss…

    A free-form verse, from a young soul trapped in an aging body. Prompted by the anguish and encouragement of some exceptionally special people on Twitter.
    Forgive the raw nature, perhaps I’ll “clean” it up.  Perhaps, I’ll not. {I did, and will likely do again.}

    Mortality’s short, sweet kiss…

    Morrow comes, heralding new dawn,
    upon that day, will joy be born.
    Patiently, must we wait,
    We’ll know the time, won’t hesitate.
    With both hands spread open wide,
    We slow our fall, down terror’s slide.
    ~
    An angel, trapped in mortal form,
    filled, with anger, and disdain,
    Though silenced is her voice,
    her soul, untamed, remains.
    Into deepest dark of night,
    she turns her ever seeking eye,
    and there, upon sunrise’s glow,
    her hope, as a planted seed, doth sow.
    ~
    Not coin, nor gold,
    will purchase passage from this mortal realm,
    into eternities, untold.
    For the trip to there,
    the price is set… in anguish.
    Do all you can, while trapped here.
    Secure… your own immortal soul.
    ~
    Summer’s heat, through winter’s cold
    An endless cycle, for the bold.
    Set your weary feet,
    Upon the path,
    toward the final goal…
    Escape… for each immortal soul.
    ~
    From four corners,
    east, and west,
    the titans of this world contest.
    North, and south,
    the winds do blow,
    freezing rain, before the snow
    that chills… my immortal soul.
    ~
    Though our fragile bodies,
    the titans hold in thrall,
    our souls, escape their clammy grasp.
    Till, finally… we turn.
    Behold, the Asp.
    Our demise, through venom’s fang?
    Or our escape, to destiny,
    as ageless legends sang?
    Through that path, so filled with pain,
    must we venture, once again,
    for at its end, does lie… our gain.
    ~
    Into cold, slit eyes we stare,
    the Asp, its fangs, doth turn, and bare.
    Its promise?
    With us, Eternity to share.
    Upon those ivory tips,
    so sharp,
    do form two drops, two drips,
    two promises… held true.
    My soul’s release… from me, to you.
    ~
    Into these gleaming gems,
    we cast our eye.
    Behold, our fate,
    to do… and die.
    ~
    Into venom we turn, and dive.
    Within their pain, we won’t survive.
    They promise us release…
    and bliss…
    our freedom…
    from mortality’s short, sweet kiss.
    ~

    That poem is not an exhortation to death. Hold true to yourself, until time comes for each of us to escape the shackles of mortality.

  • Marriage, a word’s meaning.

    Marriage, a wonderful word ~ a worthy institution ~ a question, of meaning…

    Although I never thought anyone had the right to tell another who they can or can’t love,  long did I hold the belief that the word marriage defined a union between a man and a woman. Very recently I was thinking about this and realized that limiting this particular word to a narrow, archaic construct has a major impact on people – my belief that a word should be limiting, placed severe constraints on others.

    Who am I to tell anyone who chooses to make a commitment, that they cannot – simply because the one to whom they commit themselves is of the same gender? I don’t have that right, and if I did… well, I would cast it away.

    In the past, I would have voted for any type of civil union, regardless of its name. Yet, within my heart, I reserved the word marriage for only the variety of union in which I am bound. My way, is not the only right way.

    Now, I must open my closed mind and grant others, different from me, their chance at happiness, their chance at lifelong togetherness. Call it a civil union, call it a marriage, or simply call it by its true name… love.

    While none of us has any right to determine the lie of another’s heart, everyone deserves a chance at completion.  Well done Washington, for taking a leadership role amongst the United States, once more.

    {04/14/13 you can read more of my journey to understand the meaning of marriage, here.}

  • Adelmar’s Recollection – audio.

    The link below is to my personal attempt at a voice recording. While reading the words that poured from our heart onto paper is difficult enough, reading them aloud is orders of magnitude moreso.  Indeed it makes me appreciate those who record audio books – walking in another’s shoes truly reveals the difficulty of their path.  Be warned, this is quite likely one of the most difficult things I’ve ever managed to do.

    Please note this recording is from an early version, though the words have changed the content has not. Here is the opening of Beltamar’s War, the first book in my epic work of Philosophy, Couched as Fantasy – Malmaxa.

    Beltamar’s War Chapter 1, Section 1 – Adelmar’s Recollection.

    I hope it intrigues you enough to read the tale.  Thank you for listening.

  • Julia, my gem.

    This morning, my wife decided to drive me to work.  With her usual thoughtfulness she went out a few minutes early, unlocked the car and turned it on to warm up.  After admonishing my boy to brush his teeth I went out and climbed into the passenger seat.

    Julia appeared a moment later, opened the driver’s side passenger door, then stopped.  A brief pause, then she closed the door and came around to the passenger side and clambered in behind me.  Her brother is much taller than her, as I am to my wife – who had moved the driver’s seat forward.

    Julia hadn’t needed prompting to grant her brother the additional leg room, I doubt she’d even analyzed her action.  She’s thirteen, caring, and considerate… she’s my JuliaGem.