Feste's Lute

Scribbles & Sketches of the Unspeakable


I wish I could write something anything lately about what I really feel for my dearest. I am ever so much in love… and I read the old words from her and I.

It all seems so lovely, but now things feel so much more grounded. Not in a bad way. We used to soar and fall before in the heights and depths of thrilling bliss and overcoming fear.

Now a high hill with a tower stands where only a cliff had been. There, on the east side in an open balcony, we stand together looking at the new sun, still barely above the horizon of our time together. It still rest in the familiar hills and valleys of our past, but its rays illumine forest glades we’ve only glimpsed in hopeful dreams. And with those fields and valleys the future stands like the tower behind us and beneath us.

But all that is simply metaphor. I said once that I wanted to be there to hold her until all the sorrow drained away. Now I want more than that. I want to always hold her.

I’ll meet you in that glade.

Scarecrow (and other tidbits)

So… I’m never sure where to start on what’s happening in my life lately. There’s quite a lot, but I’ll keep things simple. We’re getting ready for the wedding… that’s probably enough for those of you who know what that involves.

Other than that, I’ve been reading and just finished Dante’s Inferno. I have jumped back into Anna Karenina by Tolstoy now… it was really hard for me to read for a while because it talks so plainly about failed love… and it’s a little to close to things I’ve seen lately. It’s like watching a trainwreck. Except… I can look away in this case. Sometimes I have to. But… he’s drawing me in, so I won’t be able to avoid it anymore. Also I’m delving back into Blake on occasion since he has a lot of short works I can browse in free moments.

Here’s on of my new passions. It’s a new media catalog site, and it’s really nice for getting your book, movie, and music collections sorted:

Billy’s Library

And this is just a little tidbit I was playing with:

Caw the legal term,
Now shriek it, let it pierce…
Declare how straight a man must stand.

Then watch our sad eyes.
See our necks strain to glimpse
our faithless, curvaceous spines.

Now shrill-voiced Raven,
be still. Take the hammer.
Let the Blacksmith’s muse be yours…

Let knife scratch itch.
Split skin where we can’t reach.
Then remember the horse’s hooves…

Nail pierce bone and
Bleeding screw secure
the plates of hypokrisis.

Help us stand then
confident in your craft.
Disguising bent hinges and nails.

Never a scar,
Only feeling this strange, new numbness…