neverwhere

I just watched the first episode of Michael Palin's new travel series Sahara. I can't believe he was willing to spend nearly a year in the middle of the most inhospitable place on earth for fun. He's insane! But still sooooooooooooo cute. *drool* *lol*

As a special treat, I hearby allow all my friends to see a very silly picture of me with His Royal Paliness taken 6 years ago. Wow, has it really been that long? And yet I look exactly the same. *G*

What is it with me posting all these pictures lately? Not so long ago I would never let anyone see my picture, not even my closet friends, I was so worried and ashamed of what they might think of me. But now I can't stop! I even took some this afternoon of me wearing glasses because I felt like it. The strange thing is, while I don't mind showing off my webcam photos, I absolutely loathe having pictures taken of me with a proper camera. I always end of looking terrible, I really don't know why webcam pics are better. I suppose because they're so blurry, they fade out all my 'unpleasant' features. *grins*

Here's a rather interesting little quizlet, courtesy of

bnh :)

Number of people on my lj friends list: Over a hundred (!)
..whom I've met in person: 6. More soon though!
...whom I've met in person more than once: 5
...whose house I've been to: If dorm rooms count, then 1
...who have been to my house: 2
...whose precise geographic location I know offhand: 10
...whose full names I know offhand (at least first and last): 6
...whom I've followed/been in touch with for more than 3 years: 1 (

ashfae!)
...who live outside my country: Oh god, all of them. *laughs* Hmmm...I think all but 12
...whose journal I consider myself "addicted" to: 8
...whom I've lived with: 2 (

eyre_lasgalen and

wreibyn survived a whole month in my house!)
...whose ex I slept with: Errmm...none
...who you've kissed?: On the cheek? Loads. I'm sure I've given one or two a quick smooch on the lips. Being affecionate is fun. :)
...who I'd "do"?: ...Ermmm...none. What an impudent question!
...who I've "done":

wreibyn wants me. *smirks*
And so does

orangelover. Hell, you ALL want me. *lol* ;-)

New friends to introduce! Please say hello to fellow Folklore addict

prosewitch and my dear friend

lady_aquilla, who finally took my offer of an LJ code and joined us here! Yipeeee! :D
I have two friends named Aqui. Isn't that odd? :)

What aspect of LOTR fandom are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

What Underappreciated Female Vocalist Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I think I've heard of them before. they do sound like my sort of band. Can someone recommend a good song or two for me to download? :)

Tomorrow night I'm going to the xXx premiere in London with

shiveringjemmy. God, I must really like her to do this. *laughs*

Current Mood: geeky
Current Music: I'll Never Tell -- Once More, With Feeling Soundtrack

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

I have been asked to afflict you with mass comments until you repent of your slothfulness.

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

The Personal History of Ester the Alchemist
by AD Barncord
as told around a fireside once or twice

I am the last of the House of Aureati. Our House begun when my
Great-great-great-grandfather came home victorious from the crusades.
With him, he brought scrolls of the ancient and holy art of Alchemy
from Great Library of Alexandria. On the day of his return, he didst
vowed to God and all that he and his posterity would dedicate
themselves to the purification of the base metals to a state of golden
righteousness. To this end, all his descendants were taught the
ancient languages and instructed in the Word of God. Many of our
males entered the Priesthood and received further knowledge from
scrolls kept in the monasteries. Those who choose to raise families,
picked righteous and astute wives who helped in the laboratory as well
as produced dutiful children.
My father was a physician and a widow by the time I was eight.
My two brothers and I took turns helping him in the laboratory in
between our studies. When I was eleven, a local nobleman (noble by
birth - not deed) aquired control of the barony we lived in by devious
methods. After he secured his position, he commanded my father to
make poisons for him for some undisclosed purpose. My father was so
enraged by the idea that he might become an accomplice to murder, that
he chasten the nobleman and threw him out of our house. Knowing that
the nobleman would return with his minions, he instructed my brothers
and I to gather all the scrolls we could. He then instructed us to
sneak out of the house and to seek sanctuary at the Dominican
monastery where our uncle resided. My eldest brother would not leave
my father's side, so he drew his sword and told my other brother and I
to go out a back window. Being primarily scolars, my father and
brother were soon killed. As the nobleman's soldiers scoured the
house, my other brother pushed me out the window and threw the pack of
scrolls at me. Though it was dusk, I could clearly see my brother's
face as he was stabbed in the back. Whether the soldier saw me, I
know not - for fear did grip me and clutching the pack of scrolls, I
ran into the forest behind our house. Though I tripped and fell a few
times and was drenched from crossing a deep stream, it was dawn before
I stopped to rest.

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

I do not know how long I wandered before I came across the gypsy
encampment. I was delirious from starvation and fevered when they
found me. At first they thought me to be Jewish, for in my fevered
state I had recited some of the teachings of Miriam the Jewess - an
ancient alchemist of great importance. As my fever began to subside,
they learned my name was Ester and the pack I held was full of the
scolarly learnings of my father. The Lord had blessed me, for the
gypsies who found me were on a yearly route which took them within a
league of my uncle's monastery.

I was still very weak when we reached the monastery. My uncle,
who had heard the news of my father's and brothers' murders from a
passing merchant, praised God for my deliverance. He then blessed the
gypsies for their samaritan-like care of me and sent them off with a
cask of the monastery's best vintage. The monks cared for me until I
was strong again. Then my uncle placed me with an elderly couple who
live a short distance away from the monastary. On a regular basis he
would visit me and instruct me more throughly in the art of Alchemy.
He said that when he first heard of my father's and brother's death,
he poured out his soul to God until he fell asleep from exhaustion and
grief. As he slept, a dream came to him showing me teaching my
children alchemy in a tent. An angel came down and stood behind me
smiling. He told me that he knew that the Lord wanted my ancestor's
vow to be fulfilled by me.

As the gypsies made their yearly treks, they would visit the
monastery and inquire after my wellbeing. During my sixteenth year,
the elderly couple I lived with finally died and the monks were at a
loss as to what to do with me. When the gypsies came they asked them
if they could deliver me to a household in a nearby city which could
care for me until I found someone to marry. For a price, the Gypsies
agreed. On the road, a fowl deciever came to the encampment claiming
to have created the philosopher stone and could create gold from any
metal. "He is nothing but a fake and a thief!" I declared to the
Gypsy leader. "How canst thou tell?" she asked with a twinkle in her
eye. "Perhaps I have some learning in the matter?" I replied coolly.
The Gypsy laughed, "Perhaps you do. Tell me, could you have some use
for his powders?" "I may, but I cannot make gold.....yet." We both
chuckled at that. Before I could repeat Albertus Magnus' Eight Rules,
The gypsies had talked the man out of all his potions and then some
and gave him two old fighting chickens in return. Therefore I was
accepted for my knowledge and skills.

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

MY DRESS OF SILVER AND GOLD
===========================

As an alchemist's constant habit,
I went to the apothecary for my supplies.
And as I matched pleasantries with an Abbot,
A strangish looking man caught my eyes.
He stared at me with eyes intent -
Making notice of my choices, he said,
"I see that your Alchemist lord has sent
You here for Quicksilver, Sulfur, and Lead."
I chuckled with frank amusement and replied,
"Thou hast made an honest mistake, my friend,
'Tis not my lord who's an alchemist, but I,
And I know thou didst not mean to offend."
His obvious surprise lasted only a moment
Before his slanted eyes returned to scrutiny.
"M'lady, I am but a humble foreign merchant,
But I think I may have something to interest thee."
"Is that so?" I said with curiosity piqued.
His body shock with a nasty, wheezing cough
As he motioned to me to go to the street.
Where I saw an animal the color of thin broth.
"I have journeyed far from my home in Cathay
With spices, incense, jade, and silk to sell.
I have picked up a strange illness on the way,
Which no physician can make well.
I know now that I will never return
To my home near the Ginkgo tree.
And my family will never learn
What fate has befallen me."
Then he handed me a large bundle,
Filled with spools of unusual thread.
And staring at the silken jumble
I, in disbelief, shook my head.
"Why would you want to sell me these?"
I asked in total befuddlement.
"M'lady Alchemist it would displease
The gods if I from this life went
Without bestowing this precious material
To one with the knowledge and gifts,
To make it into the ethereal
Colors which causes many eyes to lift."
Again his body became racked with wheezing
And I led him to my humble dwelling.
Then after a great bout of sneezing,
I bade him of this substance to continue telling.
"This special silk," he said with trembling hands,
"If treated after the manner of alchemists,
Will become as spun silver and gold stands,
And yet lay comfortably on your wrists."
As I fed him porridge, he told me how
To make this silk shimmer and shine.
And as sweat began to bead his brow,
I layed him down and gave him wine.
"What must I pay for such a treasure?"
He shook his head weakly and replied,
"I no longer have need of earthly pleasures.
Just tell my family how I died."
So as life seeped from his frame,
I begged from him one more thing
The location of his home and his name.
"In Cambalec, I am called Mangu Ching."
I wrapped the body in linen fine
And anointed it with fragrant oils.
I set it in a box of pine.
Then in my lab I toiled.
I wove a clothe of the finest gold
And went to a visiting countess.
For two thousand florins the silk sold.
I used them to keep my promise.
I sent his family his body also,
To bury beneath the Ginkgo tree.
A trusted merchant I know
Took care of this duty for me.
As for the rest of the material,
I did worked and changed it
Into dazzling bolts of precious metals,
Which into this dress, I did stitch.
Now let us dance and let us sing.
My story is all told.
Around the fire I'll be dancing
In my dress of silver and gold.

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

Cyrano
=======
You never noticed me,
Working in my father's tavern,
But I use to pause
And listen to you speak
Poems exquisite and fair,
Imagining you meant them for me.

How I would despise Roxanne
For not seeing the beauty behind your nose.
How could she be so shallow and blind
Not to see that Christian's words
Were actually spawned from your mind?

But she was a lady
And I was not.
She had golden curls.
And I, a brownish mop.
Her skin was fine cream.
Mine was custard with spice.
People called her beautiful.
I was just someone nice.

Brushing my hair in front of my mirror,
I often asked it why -
Why couldn't she see the wonderful soul
That dwelt deep inside?

Then my father laid his hand on my shoulder,
His eyes meet mine and smiled,
"I never thought there could be anyone
As beautiful as your mother, my child,
But now I see that I was wrong.
A young man is sure to win
Your gentle heart before long."

A terrible thought entered my soul
As Father walked away -
Could you, my shining hero,
Also have feet of clay?
You bemoan your physical appearance,
But did you ever once tried
To see beyond the outward beauty
And take a look deep inside?

Could it be that you have judged others
In the same way they have judged you?
Did it ever occur to you
To look at people from a different point of view?

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

And what of me,
The foolish maid,
Do I also bear this guilt?
Have I cherished an illusion?
Was my admiration fantasy built?

Have I ignored the truth
Because I loved the music of your words?
Did I turn a deaf ear
To others who deserved to be heard?

Taking my shopping basket,
I walked through the marketplace.
This time I made an effort
To see beyond the face.

Did you know the baker's laughter
Makes Thor's thunder sound petite?
That the seamstress on the corner
Smiles at everyone she meets?
And the gaunt cobbler leaves out food
For the street urchins to eat?

The butcher sings his songs
So his bedridden mother can hear
His charming baritone
And know her family is near.
One more thing I found,
When I opened my eyes to see -
While I had been admiring your poems
One of your guards was admiring me.

So, while you mourn pitifully
Your self-inflicted state,
Feeling noble in your misery,
I will no longer with envy regret
What I do not have in this short life -
For after all has been said and done,
It's really a matter of one's own insight.

From:

angelislington.livejournal.com

*LOL*

Who asked you to do that? *curious smile* :)

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

Oh, it came up in conversation wiht another victi-I mean-friend. ;)

Does this mean I can't post one more poem?

From:

angelislington.livejournal.com

Eeep! You talk about me? *looks around nervously*
All good things I hope...;-)

And yes, of course you can post another poem. I really like the Cyrano one. :)

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

I thought you would :D

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

The Rain Goddess
==================

Wrapped in robes of dark gray mist,
Which hugs her form like a lover,
Her pearl white face and neck
Glows softly in the flash of sheet lightning.

She is the Rain Goddess.
Queen of the Storms.
Giver of Moisture.
Sustainer of Life.

Her realm has no landmarks.
No signs, no trails,
Save those she opens
With a mere application of will.

She walks the storm clouds.
Molding them.
Caressing them.
Dispatching them to do her bidding.

She climbs stairways,
Of swirling vapor,
To survey her domain
And check for intruders.

Annoyance enters her calm face.
He has done it again.
The Sun God has dared to mark her clouds
With his golden scars.

She storms down her billowy tower,
Lightning cracking in her wake,
To confront the brash being,
Who insists on taunting her.

He sits there on his golden chair,
A half-smile to greet her ire,
And shoots a brilliant ray
For her to cross upon.

She ignores the proffered path
And creates her own
Of blinding white
Jagged energy.

"Why," she demands,
"Do you insist on irking me?
Are there not others
You could annoy?"

He closes his eyes and sighs,
"You know that answer, my stormy one,
Must you begrudge me
The simple pleasure of seeing you?"

The Rain Goddess bites back a tear.
"I cannot change what I am.
The world needs me to be
This being before you."

"And," she continues softly,
"You must be the one who burns bright
And bathes the world in warmth and light.
We cannot leave our realms."

The Sun God walks to her,
Stopping a few yards away.
Close enough to see the gray of her eyes,
But far enough that their powers do not conflict.

"And when the world has no need of us?
When it has finished its purpose
And can live without us?
What then, my stormy one?"

She stands there, face again calm and says,
"When life can exist without us
And the world had reach it perfection,
Then we can be together."

"But until then," she continues,
"You must leave my realm.
For the sight of you
Is too painful to endure."

"I cannot promise that," he says.
"For the sight of you
Is what gives me hope.
Cannot you not find some compromise?"

She surrounds herself as she turns away
In a sheet of rain.
He reaches forth with a shaft of light
To dispel the barrier.

The barrier holds,
But the Goddess does not move.
Mesmerized by the colors
That have enveloped her.

"See?" he says softly.
"We can work together.
How can you hide from me
When together we created this?"

"This," she points out,
"Is only a fleeting thing.
You know what would happen
If we stayed together."

"Still, isn't this beauty
Worth the agony of not touching?
Could we not grant this world
A small token of our love?"

She closes her eyes and hangs her head.
"I suppose that I could bear the pain
Once in a while, to give
My children below something to treasure."

The Sun God beams brighter
And with a bow and blown kiss,
Leaves the misty realm
Of his beloved Rain Goddess.

She instead becomes darker,
As she walks back to her billowy tower.
And with her soul filled with agony,
Cries.

From:

angelislington.livejournal.com

I sang a song called 'Mama Rain' in a new musical that is very much like this poem. :)

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

Cool! Now where's your new journal entry? *hint* *hint*

From:

mamaslyth.livejournal.com

The Lake of my Desire
========================

I envisioned a large lake
They call it my desire
They asked me to cross it
As if it was required

Staring at the rippled blue
I asked myself why
I was happy on this shore
In the emerald winter rye

The lake will always be there
It won't just go away
Just because I decided to wait
And travel another day

I think for once
I should stay right here
And learn to be alone
The other side of the lake can wait
Until I know my own

It pretty here
Never noticed that before
Wandering the fields of myself
This side of the lakeshore