Lift off From Reality…

It is not always like that,
Though the higher I lift off from reality,
The further I inevitably fall.

The trough needn’t be so deep, the ditches so sloped, and hard to climb.
But,
If you crest too high, it gets difficult to see, so far out that
Even pulling yourself back down presents only
Floating, fabricated footholds
To tread water, or tread mill
Think you’ve moved but you’ve stayed still.
Acting as if there is no problem isn’t valid stance either,
Just another phantom pretending to be the ground.

A lot has changed now,
my skin has closed in around me.
But it’s better to be in my skin
Than to be abandoned outside it.
Or with mind sunken in.

Daniel Triumph.

Sorry it’s late, but here’s the Thursday post.

It’s sort of related to the New Years poem. It’s kind of weird.

Wraith Hail

The more of you that I inspect,

The more of me I see reflect (Dave Mustaine 1995).

But when I went to see what’s what,

I looked around, I was a slut.

I’m in this, here, a room, I have a dictionary I have a bed.

You bought me too, paid food and drink,

Oh ho, your story takes a twist, the bed is red.

Tell me, what was I to you?

I’m a scholar, I know the words.

I just…don’t remember, let jog my mind; open the book:

Definition of concubine in English:

concubine
NOUN
historical 

1. (in polygamous societies) a woman who lives with a man but has lower status than his wife or wives.

Example sentences

1. ‘Abraham ended up with a wife and a concubine, Jacob with two wives and two concubines.’

2. ‘Do they mean to train girls to becoming rich people’s wives or concubines?’

3. ‘Round about were the remains of two 20-year-old women (wives or concubines?), two 40-year-old men, and a dog.’

1.1 archaic A mistress.

Origin
Middle English: from Old French, from Latin concubina, from con- ‘with’ + cubare ‘to lie’.

It’s funny, isn’t it?

They used to tell me to…know my place.

This isn’t my place, is it?

It’s only yours. It is Orion. his name is Orion.

There is a pile of papers and books in the corner,

Near my mother,

She is insane.

“Gasoline was too expensive!” She sings, “I got kerosene~, ah, look! It doesn’t smoke as much! How lovely!”

I watch the fire. I’ll die here, impure. How many of my friends; they call it monogamy, but if you’re not a wife, you’re…concubine.

Let it burn me, mother Hail. The grandfather clock on the wall strikes twenty minutes of fire.

“Come now, don’t be retarded, look, it’s your man, calling in the hall!”

The flames are silent. They drift into the vents. The room is stone, it’s stone, it’s stone, it’s…the tapestry, a gift from mom, catches fire, then the rug, just let me die.

“Come, Alexandre, darling, listen!”

The fire, I am a kēmist by training, kerosene, “it is a flammable liquid and the vapors can explode.”

The air in the room ignites, a cold burst of red and yellow and orange and painful and mother help me

Engaged in crime I grasp my throat
Enraged my mind starts to smoke
Enforce a mental overload
Angry again, angry again, angry (Dave Mustaine 1995)—

HELP ME

Come dear, “she says,” I am disoriented, my bed is singed, but it didn’t catch. The rug is finding its way to me though. I’m dead.

“Come on, you can do it!”

I see her beckon. I hear from the hall, calls for his life. He doesn’t call for me, the trash man. All the servants are out, he is alone, but for me.

“Let the wicked burn in hell, my love, we have work to do here yet! Can’t you see them? They dance with the flames, the wicked, still, look! I want to join them, but my lovely, you still need taking care of, don’t you?”

You can always trust a schizophrenic; if she’s your mother.

I stand up, the bed catches, finally, sharing a moment of heat and lust with the rug. I don’t see smoke, but I cough anyway.

“Look!” he enters the room, my mother is still not helping, she’s helping, look, I look, I look, I loo-

“Hey, kiddo,” I say to him, I say to Orion.

Orion, my owner, looks at me, he’s frightened, paralyzed. He; I feel now, that my resentment was misplaced. He scans the books, on fire. I take the dictionary from the smoldering bed and add it to hell pyre (Zelos Wilder 2003), and laugh as my mother does; the saccharin laugh of our family.

“Nice of you to join us, what’s burning, did the vents do their job?” I stride to the window and open it. The flames feed on the oxygen, the atmosphere, my life.

“Everything! There was a burst in every ventilated room—”

I hated him, so I took him and threw him out the window, save them from the flames, I called.

Then, my mother and I, we left the building and let it die, die instead of me, I’m more important. I’m more important.

Daniel Triumph.

Due to an immense amount of stress, this week is a repost of something I posted a while back. This is a repost of a piece I published earlier, but this time it isn’t split into two pieces. I’ve been meaning to put this up as one piece anyway, so here we go.

This is a piece that happens a few years after Dirge’s Second Operation, which is also worth checking out.

10 Sentences Written over Ten Days in December

It was a dark and sunny day today and I was like a good friend of mine. Breach knowledge. Break the teeth, break through her teeth, crushed with tools of torture—through group participation, the damaging of humanity seems more acceptable. It happened yesterday. Art for education, to process a thought; art for the audience, art for entertainment. A drum beats for me, it gets louder every day…the cadence tells me that soon, I’ll meet my judgement day…my judgement day…my judgement day (Megadeth 1999). one is there to catch you when you fall, even if no-one fails to. You can sort of lean on yourself, the long term implications are quite interesting. Do you want a short sentence, or a long sentence? Okay, perhaps I can handle that.

Sorry this week is late…a day late a dollar short!

Anyway, this was a constraint-based project from my Creative Writing course. The writing was more like over fifteen or so days, but the point is that no more than one sentence was written per day.

And the end I touched it up a bit, and rearranged a few but otherwise, this is the result. Kind of an interesting project.

Daniel Triumph.

P.S. : Footnotes

It was a dark and sunny day… a play on an iconic, cliched opening line. Apparently “It was a dark and stormy night” was made famous by a Bulwer Lytton in 1830. There’s also an inherent redundancy—if it’s night, that implies by default that it’s dark. Night is dark. My version of the line was made by using the auto-suggest feature on my phone’s keyboard.

IMG_20181201_210302_973.jpg

Break the teeth… This somewhat graphic line refers to Alexandre Dirge. I recently wrote a short story regarding her. I think it’s pretty well done, you can check it out here.

…(Megadeth 1999). This is a line from “Wanderlust” by Megadeth. It’s a pretty chill song, despite the band; worth checking out.

Do you want a short sentence, or a long sentence? This is a fun line due to the nature of the project being based around sentences. The other thing is that this is an obscure reference to the children’s novel, The Phantom Tollbooth. There it was being used as a pun for both grammatic sentences, and court sentences.

Dirge’s Second Operation

Or, “Raze

When she had finished speaking, she stared at me.

I looked at her rather intensely.

She glared at me openly. Perhaps she lacked a sense of etiquette, or perhaps the intensity came from an underlying edge—perhaps more than an edge—of…something.

“And as a result,” I continued, “I’m now in control of our group.” DONTTELLHERTHATSPEAKONLYWHATISNECESSARY I think I spoke too loudly. Hopefully she will just think I’m nervous…

She was rather loud, but she didn’t seem nervous. There was something disconcerting about this woman. “You are telling me that you have taken control of the Caironea gang?”

“The…Alexandre gang now.” I think I spoke too loudly. THINKIMNOTTHINKINGATALLIRUINEDRUINED

I noticed something strange about her mouth.
“You said your name was Alexandre Dirge.”

RUINEDRUINED I couldn’t tell if she had asked me a question or if she had simply made a statement. RUINEDRUINEDTHEREISNONEEDTOTELLALL JUSTLETHERLOCKYOUAWAYAND

When I had received the letter, I was certain that it would lead either to some sort of attack, or perhaps a joke. Yet I am not fighting, and typically those who play tricks do not confess murder to the guard Captain beforehand.

I felt that I had heard the name before…Dirge.

“I may have a proposition for you. I should detain you; however my operation would be undermined if, through justice, you were held in prison. For this reason, I will trust you to return here again, tomorrow. At the same time.”

LOOKATWHATYOUVEDONE I looked at her rather intensely. I waited a moment. I took a few breaths, and then I opened my mouth to speak. “——”

“And no, this does not mean you will escape the law, however….” I was in no position to, on my own, make promises, however I needed to entice her return. “You may be able to make partial atonement if you aid the Kingdom.”

I closed my mouth then winced. I wondered what she had in mind. When I confessed, I had been hoping this would be it, that all this would finally be over.

I saw her wince. I also saw her mouth properly, saw her teeth. This woman had a full mouth of broken—seemingly violently, perhaps even purposefully—broken teeth.

I assumed that meeting with the Captain of the guard herself, meeting with Natasha Rhye, would guarantee my arrest, but it seems…it seems that I’ll have to return tomorrow ANDLOOKATHOWIFAILMYSELFIFAILMYSELFEVERYTIMEIFAILMYSELF I took a breath. My eyes focused on the city wall behind her and then it came back to me; what had put me in this situation in the first place. OHNOWHATHAVEIDONE IVEFORGOTTENMYOHNOOHGODOHHOWCOULDIFORGETMYOWN……
“Partial atonement if I aid the kingdom…” HOWCOULDIWHATHAVEIDONE WHATHAVEIDONEWHATHAVEIOHNOWILLIBE

I could see it in her face again, that edge of something; that edge of madness. It seemed to have heightened. I said, “I can rely on your return, then?”

ABLETOFULFILLMYORIGINALINTENTIONHOWCOULDIHAVEFORGOTTENMYOWN “Yes, I will return.” I made the mistake of giving a courtesy smile. I realized, and quickly hid my teeth.

I confirmed my observations on her mouth. I had thought that there was something disconcerting about her but perhaps it was her situation. Or perhaps both are true.

FORGOTTENMYWHATISWHATISTOCOMEGODWHATISTOCOME

Morning was coming. I could see the light.

I took the day to do research, in addition, obviously, to my job. I spoke to Vinth, Artus and Finch, and then gave up on receiving any information of use from the guard. Though; Finch Dirge Zeth informed me that his mother’s name was Dirge. I did not ask about Alexandre, though perhaps there is some relation. Vinth, too, had some information about a Hail Dirge in the underground gang, but I did not believe her to be the Dirge I sought.

I next spoke to the Solune Agent, Janna Rhye; my sister. The agents knew of the Dirges. There was a Dirge already running a gang: Diesel Dirge, she whose group frequently raided the neighbouring town. There was also another Dirge, in another gang. I assumed this was Hail. Janna said there were three gangs: Diesel, near Baracus; Caironea, in the north east wilderness; and Horith, underground in Murdock, my city.

Perhaps the young Dirge was not lying.

ASINGLECHILDISLIKEASINGLEPARENTUSELESSANDDAMAGEDANDYETMOTHER IS THIS NOT US? AND WHY? WHO IS TO BLAME? And I had forgotten…

“Are you willing to take on this task? The gua—”

“Yes.”

She must have some motive, though why she was so willing when there was, possibly, family in neighbouring groups, I was not sure.

WHOISTOBLAMEWHOISTO And now, it seems we have been gifted with providence, mother. CANYOUSEE This new deal will help us. Truly, a gift from God.

“When should we take on this…operation?”

“I could have the guard ready in two days.”

WHATNONONONONOICANTDOTHATICANTGOTHATFASTTHATSRIDICULOUSNOTEVERYONEISASEFFICIENTASYOUARERHYE “I…cannot.”

“Of course. If you only just took control of the gang, then you will need to gain at least some semblance of trust from them. Right now there is something else I need from you.”

GAINTHEIRTRUSTENOUGHTHATTHEYWOULDFOLLOWMEINTO

“I will put it very simply. First, the guard will help with the operation. You must initiate, but we will provide the motivation. Then, of course, we will aid with clean-up. That is first. Second, I need evidence. This is to be a large operation. Three parties will be involved. I need evidence of your words that Caironea is truly dead. Finally, you need to send your gang on some sort of small mission to prove to them that you are capable.”

“That’s only two,” GAINTHEIRTRUSTGA “because the way I’m going to… —The task I have in mind is the public shaming of the body. We will take it and abandon it outside the city gates.” I looked at her rather intensely, and pointed.

Perhaps it was madness indeed. I did not think too deeply on in it. If this woman could coordinate a gang of fighting men in such a task, she would certainly be capable of the rest.

We agreed to meet again in exactly one week.

We worked for six days. By the sixth, the group had enough confidence in me to perform the task.

We dragged the body to the city gates and dumped it. Propped him up against the doors. Someone wanted to attach the corpse with stakes through the shoulders, to nail him up, but we were spotted. The guard does their job, it seems. WERANAND On the seventh day we rested, and I again met with Natasha.

“I made sure the guards saw you, to heighten the experience. Should the operation succeed, your term will likely be greatly shortened.” Especially if, as I suspect, you acted in defence.

WEARESOCLOSESOCLOSESOCLOSEMOTHERSO “When is it?” CLOSESO

“Two days.”

I covered my mouth to smile.

“Before we part, you must tell me Horith’s location. I will tell you how our end of the operation will function.”

True to her word, the Captain provided motivation. ANDAPPARENTLYSOMEOFUSHAVEACONSCIENCE A member of Horith’s gang, a man named Vinth, brought news from within the city.

Perhaps there is something divine on that young woman’s side. We did not end up needing to create a scenario by force, rather, our undercover guard Vinth had something for us. Horith’s gang was intent on expanding and overthrowing first the Alexandre gang, in its perceived newfound weakness, and then later the Diesel gang. Monopoly over independents. Vinth simply played the part of a concerned neighbouring member.

“We will take them pre-emptively,” was responded to with mostly cheers. It seems my past mistakes as a tactician were either forgotten or…were not as grand as the disfigurem—as the punishment I received for them would suggest. I tried to clench my teeth, felt pain, and began to assemble a plan. It had been my task before all of this FAILURE had occurred.

Lined pockets. We broke the windows shortly after beating the door in. We moved in headfirst; me first. It seems our architecture of aggression comes into reality faster than theirs. We caught them unaware, men at the boardroom table. I commanded the assault, rocks streamed out and then swords were drawn. I commanded the rest to other parts of the building, and then I moved ahead.

The controlled chaos, organized mess, took to the background as I skulked the building, searching. The noise was finally outside of my mind. Through the roar of dissent, I heard a saccharine laugh. I drew my sword and opened the door.

We watched them fill their pockets with stones and then storm though the front of the building. I told the guard to wait until it became loud, and continue waiting for half a minute. We would fall upon them when they were weakened.

“You did this, didn’t you.” He had her by then neck. “That daughter of yours, you told her!”

Horith had made the mistake of trying to intimidate her. At the point of death, Hail Dirge had a habit of…laughter. “How wonderful I must be, how powerful, to have the ability to be in two places at once!” She giggled.

He turned in time to receive a cut across his face. His eyes widened, which I took as permission to drive my fist into his throat. I kicked him to the ground and smiled openly. “In the middle of a siege, your first instinct is to find someone to blame. Oh…” I put my foot on his chest, and then looked around, “Do you hear that? Listen. The guard is here.”

The Solune guards are trained and skilled. Our weapons, seemingly simple rods of steel, beat past the swords most criminals choose to carry, and keep us committed to blunt force instead of blood. “Everyone who survives, which should be most of them, is to be run through the courts.” We poured in, interrupted the partially-completed battles, and finished them on both sides’ behalf.

“No, mother you have to go!”

She said, “Where?”

“Out.” I pointed to the window, breaking it open with my sword and clearing it. She looked at me with deep apprehension. Reading my face, she gave a tragic smile and then…laughed.

She leaned in close to my face and whispered, “I’ll see you some other time then. And…take care of yourself, okay?”

I nodded, we said goodbye to each other, and then she climbed stupidly out the window.

Shortly after, Captain Rhye appeared at the open doorway.

There’s a lot to talk about here. First of all, you can finally see the past conflict of Alexandre Dirge alluded to in The Solune Prince. Second, the story of “Broken Teeth,” a project that I had abandoned over a year ago, has finally been told, at least in part.

Third, this piece could (perhaps even should) be followed up by “Wraith Hail,” which features Alexandre and her mother yet again in a new and exciting situation.

Actually, I think that’s it. Hope you liked it,

Daniel Triumph.