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The following poems are randomly selected from part A of the Garden series.
If you are patient, the whole story may appear. There is a doorway on this site, that will open to the poetry collection, both in context and complexity.
Foreword (The Garden)
Garden is a small shire, within the boundaries of the sinister Nothing. The people, both animated and mortal, keep their shire clean and beautiful. They also protect their shire from natural foes. Life is usually calm and tranquil in this serene shire, known as Garden.
Nothing's infamous tyrant, Natas, wants most, if not all, of Nothing under his total control. He usually leaves Garden alone. That is until he gets bored with his demonic means of entertainment.
The actual land mass, Nothing, is surrounded by a shallow void; namely "Nothing's Void". To the northern tip of Nothing, across it's Void, lies the Ancient Lands. It was there, were the Ancients would wander (and wonder) about. I say used to; as they were all wiped out by an unpleasant plague. The inhabitants of Nothing, were protected from this horrid plague by the sheer vastness of Nothing's Void.
In the following poems and letters, you will have the opportunity of getting to know most of the Inhabitants; most, not all. You will meet the Wanderer, who with the use of his TRIPPER (Time Rectifier in Parallel Places, Envelope Runner), visits the Ancients.
A fact, which you might find startling, is that Garden, Nothing, and their inhabitants actually exist. There is a piece of the Wanderer, in all of us. What's more, Nothing and Garden aren't that far away. Everything has it's good with it's bad.
Everywhere you look, there is a fragment of Nothing in what you see.
A Modest Tender
I was born to be gentle, yet powerful;
If only the Ancients knew, what I know.
For I am wiser than the Elder Ancients;
Considering I was conceived a million millenniums ago.
I am the youngest of my relations,
However, I have far more important duties.
They range from assisting the blind with light,
To giving enough warmth to the little cuties.
My closest friends, the Nooms, are also Tenders,
In the sense, that they carry out what I do.
Well Not as much, they can be quite lazy,
But I consider them as my nocturnal shoe.
Only one, is greater than myself, Emalf,
Being the Only One, who created me, you as well.
The Great One has many names and faces.
The God of gods, persuader of the infidel.
West Coast ( Kindaal's Thoughts )
Where's the Runner, he's been gone too long?
I sent him out to report on how Ferral is going.
Then again, he may be on his way now.
One thing is for sure, my temper is growing.
My patience was at it's tethers end,
So I sent out another Runner on the third day.
The second Runner was only gone for the night,
When he came back, this was all he could say.
"I looked all over the Between Kindaal,
To see nothing, except it's heat haze.
I climbed the Highlands, to see a disturbance,
It looked like the Two Towers were ablaze."
It seems to me that Ferral has progressed well,
Better than I had possibly thought.
Well, time to make a move forwards,
To help Ferral on his fantastic haunt.
Lying still, in a centre of silk,
Silk which has been spun with great care.
A millennium old tradition of craftsmanship,
Captures the Two Eyes, of the Fair.
A silk that can be woven,
A Fair woman's fine flowing dress,
Or used in high emotional states;
Where as it would be used to relieve stress.
The Dincara weave this silk,
Into incredible skyscapes of cumulus clouds,
Capturing the invaders insatiable curiosity;
Imprisoning their thoughts and souls, so proud.
The masters of Sight, are the Dincara,
The professors of sculpture and creation.
They are different in sizes and shapes,
Surpassed only by their shades of creations.
Nothing's Inhabitants pt 1
Here I stand in a garden,
Looking over a vastness of Nothing.
My friends stand close by,
Searching it's horizons for something.
We enjoy our own company,
As we know each other well.
Our domain is rarely challenged,
Excepting for the occasional cell.
Seasons change in favour for the foes,
Who march on Nothing's void.
Increasingly closer these villains approach,
Taking our sustenance into the void.
My friends shout, a shout of defiance,
Informing me of our Wandering Friend,
He visits on a weekly basis,
Delivering a blow to our foe's evil trend.
Discovery and Denial
"Well, well, well. What have we here? Zeme has finally gone and done something right. Hard to believe, isn't it Zeme?"
Zeme remained deafly quiet, with the still unconscious Hasten at his feet.
"What's the matter, Zeme! Devil gone and got your tongue?" Natas broke into a sadistic laugh. "Oh well, Zeme! I have plans for you. On your way back to the Between, drop in and see Raspitur."
Unbeknownst to Zeme, Raspitur has created a female Wigrae. Zeme was destined to go back to the Between, as a breeder.
"Before you go, Zeme; wake this Runner."
Zeme unlocked Hasten's legs, which relieved the pain in Hasten's mind. Hasten slowly came out of his drifting blackness.
"So, the swift little boy wakes. Nice to see, that you dropped in. Hmnn, what have you got to tell me little one?"
Hasten, still didn't know what had happened. Why it happened. Where he was. And, who this vile half person is. Then all of a sudden, it dawned upon him. He was within the walls of Mephisot.
"Come on little man. Tell me what's going on."
All Hasten remembered, was the Three Ancient Monkeys; Hear No, See No, Speak No Evil.
"Listen! Young fool. Something is happening, otherwise you wouldn't be walking all over my, MY Between!!!"
Hasten had consciously decided, to become all of the Ancient Monkeys.
"I can see, that I'm going to get absolutely nothing, out of you. But this much I do know; something is alive south of Mephisot."
"As for you, fool, say good-bye to your beloved Garden."
Hasten was placed in the Catacombs of Mephisot. An underground maze of dungeons. They say, that the only escape from the Catacombs is death. Even then, your spirit may well be still entombed.
Natas has set about getting information on what is stirring in other parts of Nothing.