Chancellorsville: To Traveller Yes, I'm a horse. The great Confederate General Lee's horse, to be exact. He and I are very close and he treats me well; I deserve it, honestly. I'm a very fine animal, if I do say so myself. Everyone tells me that, anyway. I'm a pale sort of gray color, like the uniforms of my Gray-Men, with a black mane and tail and a proud build. They all look up to me, even the Black Horse Troop. Especially them.Chancellorsville: To Traveller in Settings More Like This
This is my (possibly biased) version of the Battle of Chancellorsville.
Chancellorsville is a small gathering of buildings not far from Fredericksburg, Virginia. I'm not even certain if you can call it a town. Anyway, it has lots of space, people who feed and adore me, and large amounts of grass everywhere. But of course, good grass is always ruined after the cannons make an appearance.
The weather was absolutely beautiful that April, but I could feel an ominous cloud hanging over us. You could see it in the faces of the Army of Northern Virg
The First Manassas Tick-tock...The First Manassas in Settings More Like This
The clock ticks quietly on the mantel; a little girl plays with her dolls on the floor. Life goes on as usual outside in the small town of Manassas, Virginia. A cannon sounds in the distance. Then another. And another. The deafening roar disturbs the peace of the town in a way that the frequent trains cannot.
Upon hearing the cannons, the girl's brother jumps up and grabs his father's rifle. He heads for the door, his mother crying, begging him not to go. He reminds her that his father, her husband, is fighting out there and he leaves, making his way toward the field. Smoke floats to the sky, darkening the sun with its evil and hatred.
The streets are suddenly crowded with carriages, spectators arriving from the Capital. Fools believing the Union victory will be swift, that they will send the shameless Rebels running like scared puppies. They watch the battle, the death and the pain, the first few of 606,000 casualties, as if
Incendia: EpilogueIncendia: Epilogue in Short Stories More Like This
Over the next few months, we set up our own organization. We try to reach children orphaned by Incendia before they or Army Y can. We give them a safe place to stay at an abandoned shipping yard. We give them a fresh start. And in return, they help us with Incendia. Not because they have to, not because they want revenge, but because they came to their own conclusions. They see that what we're doing is right.
I look around the warehouse that we've remodeled. It's changed so much since we got started. The walls have been painted, we filled it with as much furniture as we can find, and everyone pitches in to support us. Now we take in any orphans or homeless children we can find. They help us if they want.
The door opens only a crack and someone slips in. It's been too long since I've seen her. Tessalynn Richards, my best friend. She instantly launches into a rambling account of everything that happened after Devon and I left. I find myself
Incendia: Part 2 I arrive at the lab some hours later. I guess that it's after one in the morning. Walking, it would have taken me much longer, but I can run as fast as a panther if I want to.Incendia: Part 2 in Short Stories More Like This
I stand outside, not entirely sure where to enter. The lab is just one big brown building with a few windows on the top. There are a few balconies on the back and possibly an entrance. I walk around the edge of the clearing to the other side of the building and come closer. There's a chain link fence topped with barbed wire in my way, but I take a few steps back and manage to clear it with ease, landing in a crouch. It shouldn't be this easy to break into a government facility. Maybe they're expecting me?
I cross the lawn confidently and approach a glass door. A door? What, no secret tunnels? I'm still convinced that it shouldn't be this easy when the door flies open and Brad comes out, followed by close to forty teenagers, all of them looking ridiculously ex
Fredericksburg: Tears of God Some had on the Rebel gray, some the Union blue.Fredericksburg: Tears of God in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
They were fathers, sons, and brothers, men like me and you.
Engaged in heavy battle till there came that cloudy draw.
When silence took the battlefield, men just stood in awe.
Some say it was the cannon smoke, some say the Northern Lights
That cast a ghostly glow over Fredericksburg that night.
Some say it was God's spirit looking o'er the bloody sod,
But that rainbow mist that filled the sky was the tears of God.
Both sides read His Hold Word and believed it in their hearts,
But the common ground He blessed them with had now been torn apart.
Covered by the blood they shed; so many lost their lives.
The fight on the Virginia hill was enough to make Him cry.
Some say it was the cannon smoke, some say the Northern Lights
That cast a ghostly glow over Fredericksburg that nigh
The Battle of Antietam Creek This was the first step.The Battle of Antietam Creek in Settings More Like This
Lee decided it was time to stop just defending their soil. It was time to get a foothold in the North. They marched into Maryland. Crossed the Potomac. Into Frederick. Sharpsburg. There they met Joseph Hooker on the banks of little Antietam Creek.
McClellan soon joined in.
Rebel sharpshooters waited in ambush in the cornfield. The Federals were aiming for the higher ground and a field of corn did not pose much of a threat. What was hiding in it did.
The fighting lasted for three days that September, 1862. 23,582 casualties and no clear victory, though it was often considered a Union triumph. Lee knew it would be difficult and costly to gain ground in the North. He would find out just how much so upon his arrival in Gettysburg
The creek flowed red that day. Ironic that the only time the blood from both sides could flow and mix peacefully was in death. After it had left the bodies. When it ta
The Battle of Shiloh Shiloh. The cabin. Made of wood and nails. Simple, really, but a source of pride for the people of Pittsburg Landing, Tennessee. Their little church. She stands alone in her field, ever watching, and soon, the silent witness to a tragedy. The secret she kept hidden, hidden in every nail and board.The Battle of Shiloh in Settings More Like This
She guarded the field like she now guards the secret of the tragedy. She protected her people from the evil of the world, but she could not protect the field from the cannons and guns. They invaded, with their noise and their pain and their anger. Grant leading the blue, Johnston leading the gray. Why were brothers fighting? Yet, what does a building care? If Shiloh could not stop the fighting, the least she could do was offer shelter, serve as a hospital.
For a time it seemed as if the gray wave was impenetrable. It did not last. Blue-clad reinforcements arrived and Grant won the day, forcing the Confederates into retreat. Forcing them to leave behind frie
Incendia: Part 5 Well, the second-guessing waited. And it came back in full force.Incendia: Part 5 in Short Stories More Like This
I pace around the hospital room, ignoring the pain that comes from walking, ignoring the dizziness. Trying to cling to my sanity. No one has come to visit me, which confirms one thing: my parents are dead. Or maybe they just don't know. But the doctor knew my name, he must have known my information when I was picked up off the street.
No, I remind myself. You were shot in a combat mission in Prospect, Ohio.
I've asked the doctors what town this is, but they just keep telling me it's Damascus, Virginia, my hometown. I'm not sure I believe them. The window doesn't show much of a view, but it doesn't look like Virginia. Though I'm not sure.
I'm not sure about anything. I'm starting to believe that it was just a dream and I wonder if I even had a brother. But what about Tess? And Devon? They were real, right? Is it all just a memory loss mission? But my memory certa
Taming the wolfTaming the wolf in Fan Fiction More Like This
Crossroad Keep finally! Torias was looking forward to trading in his dusty and sweaty clothes; first for a hot bath and then for a soft blanket. Patrolling with the new recruits had given him a vague idea of how his friend Kesh's masters Ginadh and Idrah, must have felt when she and her companion Shan were whippersnappers. He sighed. The memories of those three lonely days, he'd spent together with Kesh deep in the Anauroch, were almost as old as he was now.
After the first purification ritual that Zhjaeve had led them through, they unexpectedly felt as young as Mim. Mim, the tiniest member of Wolf's urchin gang, who now - though he barely had entered the inner courtyard - clung to his cape like a cockleburr.
"Unca Taaahbi!" There was an urgency in her tiny voice, when she resolutely pulled at him in a vain effort towards the far gate. Come ... come..." she insisted, resuming her tugs at his cape. "Anty Neesha sen' me. She aww sad... say, aww 'bout wife and def say you sa
RheingoldRheingold in Free Verse More Like This
Der Stift schwebt unschlüssig über dem Papier, ich staune über das feine Netz der Falten auf meiner Hand.
Worte tröpfeln nur dürftig aus der Feder, denn Tage aus Wohlstand und Sorglosigkeit haben das Lied des trunkenen Barden zum nüchternen Geschäftsbericht gemacht.
"Zahlenmacht für Wortmagie" - Wann habe ich diesen Wechsel ausgestellt?
Ich blättere durch Goldschnitt-Pergament, die Buchhaltung meines Lebens:
Jahr um Jahr eine ausgeglichene Bilanz
aus verlorenen Träumen und gewonnener Erfahrung
aus gefundenen Wegen und verfehlten Zielen
aus Witz und Weisheit, genutzten Gelegenheiten und vergeudeter Zeit.
Bequemes Ebenmaß, dem Lokis Lachen fehlt!
Der Pfandbrief liegt in meiner Hand.
Laufeys Sohn blickt schmunzelt den Göttern nach:
"Bedenken will ich's: wer weiß, was ich tu'?"
MitternachtslilienMitternachtslilien in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Lauf! Aggi - lass' die Windhunde Staub fressen!"
Die Augen des Halbelfen blitzten vor Freude. Er liebte es, wenn Aggi Fersengeld gab und vor ihm herlief. Nein nicht "herlief", 'hertanzte' wäre wohl der richtige Ausdruck, denn Aggi war der der Inbegriff des Tanzes. Sie tanzte, wenn sie ging, wenn sie ein Schloss knackte, wenn sie behände eine Hauswand hinauf kletterte, wenn sie lautlos wie eine Katze vom Mauersims zu Mauersims sprang.
Und wenn sie dann abends in der Taverne zum Klang seiner Okarina wirklich tanzte, mit wehenden Schleiern und bunten Glasperlen im silbernen Haar, vergaß selbst er, dass Aggi zur Hälfte Ork war.
Die trägen, unterbezahlten Stadtwachen abzuhängen war ein Leichtes. Schwieriger war es, ihren Windspielen zu entkommen: einer Meute schneller und eleganter Hunde, für die die Jagd auf zweibeinige Beute auf den Straßen ebenso pure Lebensfreude war wie für ihn und Aggi die Jagd auf edle Steine in den Taschen und Truhen der
Schattenfell und Loewenherz 11Schattenfell und Loewenherz 11 in General Fiction More Like This
Eine Handvoll Monde später
Der Wind rüttelt an den Zeltwänden. Keshi schiebt eine kleine, froststarre Gestalt, aus deren Schatten eine riesige schwarze Katze tritt, auf das in der Zeltmitte prasselnde Feuer zu. Dann verschnürt sie sorgfältig die runde Eingangsklappe.
Sie schüttelt sich die Eiskristalle aus den zottigen rot-schwarzen Haaren und lässt sie mit den Funken des Feuers um die Wette tanzen. Der Panther tut es ihr gleich.
"Ja, fühl' dich nur wie zu Hause, Celadi", lacht sie und gibt der Katze einen herzhaften Knuff in die Seite. Die revanchiert sich mit einem ungestümen Tatzenhieb. Wenige Augenblicke später balgen die beiden auf dem fellbedeckten Boden.
Deekin Schuppensänger, der kleine grauschuppige Kobold am Feuer verdreht die Augen. "Sharess und ihre Kinder, tsss! ... Edle Jägerin, Keshi Ginadh, was gibt es zu Abend: großen, stinkenden Kater und kleinen, nassen Mann? Schmackhaft nicht wahr, Xanos?
Raven WingRaven Wing in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I hated to awake from cryostasis. Especially today - for something was wrong - disturbingly wrong, but what? As always, returning from artificial near-death to life took some time until I was fully in control of myself again.
It was my tactile sense, which alerted me first. I was missing that familiar prickle of melting ice on my cheeks. And gravity was pulling on my limbs like a hungry singularity. I knew that the ship's artificial intelligence, once in a while, would try to give groundborn sleepers a feeling of comfort by activating a grav-field in their habitats for some din. But here, for us skyborn ones? I groaned. Oh great! A system error in Wing's autopilot! It would take precious timats to convince the AI to reboot. Wing was very peculiar in this respect. He was as stubborn as I at least. Maybe that's why we got along so well together.
Later, when my hearing returned, I heard the beating of my heart, but not much more - neither the constant whisper of W
Slam!Your look slammed me on concreteSlam! in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My blood continues to pour
I left my heart at your feet
As I was walking out the door
You don't know what you do to me
Tear my breath from my chest
Those murderous words stab through me
Cold eyes show lack of interest
My knees are so worn
From all the kneeling
My sanity is torn
Don't know how I'm feeling
My heart bleeds for you
My lungs breath your essence
My mind goes through
The hell of your resistance
Scarlet Wine ............ Jerry Langdon 13.04.2013I'm have a fine drop tonightScarlet Wine ............ Jerry Langdon 13.04.2013 in Free Verse More Like This
With a cloying catholic body
A young vestal bite
Rather fleshy femanine undertone
Charmingly creamy aromatic
Voluptuous early twenty with a fine note
Intriguingly rejuvinating ~ charismatic
Sexy rare A-B negative
Lengthy savoring this intoxicating drink
Under the equally full moon
Deeper I bite, deeper my fangs sink
Harder I grasp ~ voraciously embrace
Vigorously drinking this flask dry
Slowly growing limp
I feel as she begins to die
And I have mercy
The Fallacy of Dark EnergyThe Fallacy of Dark EnergyThe Fallacy of Dark Energy in Academic Essays More Like This
(or Where the Hell is MY Noble Prize?)
By Charles Kunkle Jr.
Let me begin by saying that I'm writing and posting this mainly as proof that the ideas contained here-in are my own, and originate with nobody else. If anyone anywhere attempts to claim these ideas as theirs, this document, submitted and dated as it is, provides proof that I claimed the ideas first.
Second, let me explain that I am NOT a scientist. I have a general layman's understanding of many things involving astro-physics, nuclear physics, quantum mechanics and related fields; but, I do not have the mathematical knowledge (or talent) necessary to pursue a career in any of these fields. My knowledge of these areas of study is limited to what I have learned watching countless hours of "science" programming on Discovery, History, and PBS. As well as reading some of the popular books related to these topics.
Although I do not have formal training in
An Open Letter to all 'Occupy' ProtestorsAn Open Letter to All The "Occupy Wall Street" and Other Protestors.An Open Letter to all 'Occupy' Protestors in Editorial More Like This
We have all seen the news and heard repeatedly about the "Occupy" movement that has been occurring lately, and we've probably all heard too that it has been called "directionless" and other criticisms of these protests.
Its evident these people (and many others who cannot attend the protests in person) have a legitimate gripe. What they are saying is valid and has a point. But on the other hand, there is no central message except "stop kissing corporate butt", which is fine as far as it goes.
But i would like to mention something many of you seem to have forgotten: YOU have the power.
Don't like it when a huge corporation gets a big bailout then pays its CEOs and other bosses huge bonuses (sometimes even before they pay back the bailout money) ? Angry that price-gouging oil giants get huge tax breaks, and every time anyone suggests making them pay there are screams of "we can't punish them, prices will rise eve
hope or despair of society?Tragedy is in the river of society today.hope or despair of society? in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Misery is a repulsive emotion that drives people today
Misery leads to frustration and rage.
Shall I turn lifes page?
What shall we find?
What shall we witness in societys mind ?
Shall we all fall and cry?
Shall we all give life a try?
why is there fear?
Is our doom near?
Have we all doomed ourselves?
We have all hurt ourselves
Despair is in us.
We are often told not to fuss.
But look at us now.
But look at the world now.
But there is hope.
We can cope.
Dont be slow.
It is within us to change.
We can change our lives.
Take charge of life
Erase all strife
We can do it.
We can get it.
We must remove the blinders to see nature.
we must all let go of the hate to become more mature.
AloneAlone in Free Verse More Like This
She sits alone, over there in the dark corner.
The walls painted black, the floor covered in blood.
Tears running down her cheek, her hair covers the deep wounds.
She aims the knife against her throat; "the one deeply wounded
shall not continue his journey in pain, but rather live forever in paradise".
Unnecessary RoundsIn the fall I'd make unnecessary roundsUnnecessary Rounds in Free Verse More Like This
over that scuffed, speckled tile
in case you were namelessly there-
an anonymous book browser,
a stranger buying milk.
I saw all these walks of life, at noon
or at eight o'clock or nine.
The protruding stomach pregnant
with hamburger-death, stretching
at the filthy shirt with a belly button eye
(Cyclops, do you still blame Nobody?)
and the young man's thin white leg with the
long tendon swimming a delicate breast stroke
under smooth cream-skin, under the fluorescents
hairless and illuminated.
Even lonely people need groceries,
need some fuel for their night ramblings
and nail biting, and futile attempts at a
caress or a coffee companion;
I am glad to know that you are keeping busy,
you aren't part of this purple eye socket army
of sleepless bags, and bags holding potato chips.
My contract is dark with small print;
a drafted mercenary, an indentured slave
with nighttime and a poor attempt at patience.
I am a PoetYou ask me who I am , where did I come fromI am a Poet in Free Verse More Like This
I say: I am a poet, I was born out of the blazing silk of my words
My heart is an eternal rebel, since the dawn of creation
I'm the master of my own words, the keeper of God's secret
I'm the story of that rose shivering on the freezing hill
I live in that oasis of light, in a world beyond your world
The stars stare at my hopes, and hell trembles between my fingers
The night dreads my pain, the morning sleeps on my pillow
I create my words from the tissue of my veins
I weave the images from the feather of my eyelids
I wash my sins away, when I repent between the lines
My words move slowly between your palms, climb to your soul
To hug that poet, who sleeps between the chambers of your heart
When the world is mud, thorns and empty substance
I create my own, where the ground is basil and the walls are none
RemembranceI wish I could explain what you meant to me. You were the joy in my every day, the sun that gently illuminated my dark corners. The wind that blew away the dusty cobwebs in my mind. All the little things you did, I keep them in my heart, now that you're not here. A simulacrum of all you were is now all I have. An echoing vacuum of you, clasped in the desperate circle of my arms.Remembrance in Free Verse More Like This
Oh but it was so brief! Our knowledge of eachother so fleeting, so ephemeral...All that is left are my sonorous, dolorous liquid longings of heart beats, for my heart still beats for you. That kinetic engine of life, of love...Yours may've ceased, but mine goes on. But when mine stops, who shall remember you then?
No one, but the stars, my love...
And in the end, not even they...