bartholomew

bartholomew_sh

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Lack of postings, etc.

[Feb. 7th, 2008|09:34 am]

[	Current Location	\|	home	]
[	Current Mood	\|	cold	]
[	Current Music	\|	Stan Rogers "House of Orange"	]

As some may know, my life has been unpleasantly chaotic as of late, and it has not improved seriously recently. This has led to a lack of interest in socializing of most any sort.
But many things are good, even if I'm not as appreciative as I need to be.
I do have a 'project' in mind, sparked by an incident t'other day. While on the bus, noting
the strong scent of badly unwashed human, a rather deficient individual said to the source
of the scent "Famine? That's one of the horseman, right? So that's for Aids 'n syphilis 'n gonorrhea and all those incurable viruses, right?" Provisional title is "The transit bus Armageddon blues". But I don't know that I can do it justice.*Shakes his head slowly* Add to this to the fact that we're doing 'pro-gay' surveys among southern African-Americans, most of whom are very conservative xtians, and I very nearly despair of all of humankind. (When I'm not laughing my tail off)Poor, sad peoples, so unhappy with anyone different, yearning so hard for a day of judgment that they'd likely not enjoy much at all. Sad and funny all at once. *Shrugs* Not that it's a new thing.
Ok, enough for now. I'll try to post a bit more often. If anyone actually reads this dreck,
comment!

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Fer da dwagon, and anyone else.	[Nov. 3rd, 2007\|03:05 pm]
1. give me your number? 2. let me hug you anytime I wanted to? 3. let me kiss you? 4. watch a movie with me...even a really sappy one? 5. let me take you out to dinner? 6. drive me somewhere/anywhere? 7. take a shower with me? 8. have a fling with me? 9. listen to me if I called you crying even if you were out with all of your friends? 10. buy me a drink if i didn't have money? 11. take me home for the night? 12. let me sleep in your bed? 13. sing karaoke w/ me? 14. sit in the doctors office with me because I didn't want to go alone? 15. re-post this for me to answer your questions? 16. come pick me up at 3am because my car ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere? 17. Do you think i'm cute or hot? 18. Do you like my style? 19. Do you think I'm funny? 20. cry if I died? 21. dance with me? 22. sing happy birthday to me? 23. take advantage of me if I was drunk? 24. strip for me?
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Old Poetry

[Oct. 30th, 2007|01:13 pm]

[	Tags	\|	poetry	]
[	Current Location	\|	Library	]
[	Current Mood	\|	contemplative	]
[	Current Music	\|	Dhristy Moore-Burning Times	]

This is old stuff that I'm not sure how I feel about.

Solitude

I see, without knowing.
I speak, saying naught.
I move, without going.
And no one knows my name...

This path, I must take now.
My life, here has led
I go, held by one vow.
And no one knows my name...

But still, I walk proudly,
And deep, in my heart,
I hold to the balance
And no one knows my name...

Though bound, I may yet fly,
If I bend my will.
My heart, it will not die
For I still know my name!

Bartholomew Shadowalker
2002

Haiku 1

Like a Winter storm
Pain comes into all our lives...
Must it snow so long?

Haiku 2

The sky weeps the tears
That I cannot. But in time
The sun will return.

Haiku 3

In a maple tree
I watch the dogs down below,
Waiting for the gun.

Haiku 4

Memories of life
In warm dens and green forests,
With me at the end.

Haiku 5

All around me is
The scent of rotted iron,
Ruined by man's hate.

Bartholomew Shadowalker
7 December 2003

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My life...

[Oct. 14th, 2007|11:11 am]

[	Current Mood	\|	thoughtful	]
[	Current Music	\|	Warren Zevon-Looking for the next best thing	]

Ok, we'll try it this way. I'm trying to get a decent sized and hopefully meaningful post for LJ, so I'll write it at home and post it Sunday. I'll be surprised if more than two people actually read it, but I'm not sure if that's the point of it anyway.

I'm ina difficult transitional state right now. Schivnorr and I are getting REALLY close. We're both needy, emotionally and mentally. And affectionally. We are both in serious need of some affection. Sex, eh, not really important. It'd be nice, and I'm hoping, but it's not the point of the exercise. Besides, Schiv has Kami, and at least one other. Not to mention whatever other cute furs that may drift in, as furry can get that way. No, the idea is that Schiv and I can offer each other qualities that we may lack, ourselves. I'm social, active (sometimes hyperactive) and terminally curious. He's solid, careful and intensely cerebral. He's just so much fun to talk with. Both of us are intensely loyal, though he's proven it to me, and I have to reciprocate on the same level. (not that it would be easy. For anyone who is unaware, Schiv stood by me the whole six years of hell I went through, prison, probation and all. The only one that did, I might add. Hard to top that.)
So here we are, trying to cope with everything that's comming up. I'm scared, he's scared. (I don't think I realized how scared until just yesterday.) We've invested a lot of ourselves, our hopes, our emotions, etc., etc., into a relationship that we both want, but that will never be easy.
I'm 50, he's 24. There, I said it. It's way scary. To be honest, it does mean less than it seems like. Schiv and I are too far out of mainstream thought patterns for it to mean as much as most mundanes would think. But it is important. I keep asking myself if I'm being fair to him. He's got a bright future ahead of him. Professor Emeritus, eventually, I'm sure. Very possibly more. He's got the talent, the drive, the patience, all the pieces.
And me? I don't know. I stopped dreaming decades ago, just started up again. Talent I have, all sorts. Ability, yes, abilities is more accurate. Drive? For myself, no. I just don't care enough about myself yet. For Schiv, for that relationship? Maybe, just maybe. Patience? Nope, he'll have to help me there. Never been good with patience.
What will I give him? I don't know. Whatever he needs, I will figure out a way to get it. He's that important.
Okay, there you go. There's the mess I call my life, spread out all over the floor. I don't usually get this open, not even with Schiv. Make of it what you will. May not matter anyway, if the asteroid does hit us in 2012. *Chuckles*

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My old life

[Oct. 11th, 2007|06:01 pm]

[	Current Mood	\|	moody	]
[	Current Music	\|	Tom Smith-Trans Poly U Fight song	]

While checking out LJ and doing some searching, I found at least one of my old furends, Jamie Otterbein. So I added him as a friend, not being at all sure how he'd react. My life then was such a complete trainwreck. *Shakes his head* He seems to be in Colorado, perhaps with Tiger Wilde (Another rather large trainwreck of a relationship there). Taiho and maybe Wind also, prolly.
I don't exactly know what his feelings are right now, though he has added me as a friend. A good sign. I loved him then, reckon I still do. But it's been a long 6 years. Oh, ye gods, I feel like it's been more like 6 centuries.
And I'm not much like that person in those relationships at all, any more. Jamie prolly isn't much like he was either. My Life continues on in it's chaotic path. *chuckles*

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(no subject)	[Oct. 7th, 2007\|02:53 pm]
Ok, you need to check out Tom Smith, if ya haven't. http://www.tomsmithonline.com/main1.htm I.R.A.Q. Words: Copyright 2004 by Tom Smith Music: "Y.M.C.A." by The Village People U.N., thanks for having me here, I said, U.N., now just lend me an ear, I said, U.N., I've got evidence clear- ly accusing Saddam Hussein These bums have much worse than a gun, Like disease bombs, mustard gas by the ton, Our axioms are, He'll use 'em for fun, And We must... go... in... and... stop him... It's fun invading that I-R-A-Q, No use debating that I-R-A-Q, He's a threat to the world, so we have to attack, It's a good thing he can't fight back.... It's fun invading that I-R-A-Q, Why are we waiting, get I-R-A-Q, Hit 'em hard and fast, use a few million shells, Then secure those oil wells.... U.N., yellowcake from Niger, I said, U.N., conversations we hear that said U.N. sanctions they do not fear And they're friend... ly... with... al... Qaeda... U.N., I am telling you this So the U.N. will avoid getting dissed By Dub-you, man, And he'll do it, he's pissed Off the whole... damn... world... al... ready... We are invading that I-R-A-Q, Kinda Kuwait-ing that I-R-A-Q, All my data is bull, all my motives obscure, But compared to my bosses I'm pure... We are invading that I-R-A-Q, Quit hesitating, it's I-R-A-Q, I'm destroying my rep, and you're asking me why, Hey, remember how I hid My Lai.... Now it's been a year and a half, And Wolfowitz is the joke of his staff, Lib'rul pundits would just sit back and laugh If they weren't... too... busy... crying. Cheney, in his underground lair, is insane, he says connections are there 'Tween Hussein-ee and al-Qaeda, nowhere Can we find... a... shred... to... prove it... But we invaded that I-R-A-Q, We really raided that I-R-A-Q, Bombed the country flat, wasted billions of bucks, And impounded two stupid trucks. I'm really jaded on I-R-A-Q, We should have waited on I-R-A-Q, But it's too late now, let's proceed with the plan, On to North Korea and Iran.... (What's that, Chalabi? Wait on Iran? Oooookaaaay....) Yes, you can get an mp3 fer free...
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Fer da tiggy	[Oct. 6th, 2007\|12:38 pm]
As da tiggy said... For the first three (maybe more) people that reply to me & repost this challenge I will send you something most cool. It might be something I've made, or something cool from my hidden stash. What ever it is, I promise that I will get it to you in 365 days or less. The only thing you need to do in order to participate is to be the first three to reply to this & post the same thing on your LJ-because it's fun to give people stuff
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Darkest of the Hillside Thickets	[Oct. 2nd, 2007\|04:17 pm]
Ever heard of these guys? Yig Snake Daddy We set out for Oklahoma at a quarter to nine We had a trunk full of hardware and a bottle of space brine Well they gave us peyote, wouldn't tell us a thing Until an Indian grocer told us "Yig is the King" Yig Snake Daddy we come lookin' for you We got a bored-out Chevy and a twelve pack of brew Well we're a right-miffed party and it's easy to see We've got a one-way ticket to the pit of insanity With an eye full of sun, and a mouth full of grit We awoke to the hissing in the heart of a snake pit Well we almost all died and Johnny's out of his mind And though we never found Yig we had a hell of a good time Yig Snake Daddy we come lookin' for you We got a bored-out Chevy and a twelve pack of brew Well we're a right-miffed party and it's easy to see We've got a one-way ticket to the pit of insanity
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Sad...	[Oct. 2nd, 2007\|03:59 pm]
Saw a guy, standing on the sidewalk in our university 'mall' area, saying softly to passersby "Do you have a moment to help the enviroment?". Nobody paid him any mind, too busy talking about who and what and when...He said like he didn't really expect anyone to, clinging to a notebook which prolly had a petition of some sort, but also sounding like he didn't really understand why they ignored him. As long as we talk about 'The Enviroment', reduce reality to a catchphrase, I don't think those of us who care can make a decent effect. Our Mother is dying, and her defenders are frightened schoolboys standing on the corner in the Arizona rain, understanding little or nothing.
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WoD	[Oct. 1st, 2007\|01:40 pm]
Anyone play? Have ideas for campaign. (Oh, been storyteller since it started, last century)
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Poem.	[Sep. 30th, 2007\|01:46 pm]
A Perspective Life is a blade, Dipped in Vinegar, Delicately tracing it's lessons Across your soul... A puppy, full of sound and fury, with teeth like needles Laughter in shadows An old and twisted tree Holding court over a graveyard Life is the act of living, Neither good nor bad, Serious or absurd. But important...very, very important. Bartholomew Shadowalker 12 October 2002
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New userpic	[Sep. 30th, 2007\|01:06 pm]
There...
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Dark Kipling	[Sep. 30th, 2007\|12:23 pm]
In the Neolithic Age IN THE Neolithic Age savage warfare did I wage For food and fame and woolly horses' pelt. I was singer to my clan in that dim, red Dawn of Man, And I sang of all we fought and feared and felt. Yea, I sang as now I sing, when the Prehistoric spring Made the piled Biscayan ice-pack split and shove; And the troll and gnome and dwerg, and the Gods of Cliff and Berg Were about me and beneath me and above. But a rival, of Solutre, told the tribe my style was outre- 'Neath a tomahawk, of diorite, he fell And I left my views on Art, barbed and tanged, below the heart Of a mammothistic etcher at Grenelle. Then I stripped them, scalp from skull, and my hunting-dogs fed full, And their teeth I threaded neatly on a thong; And I wiped my mouth and said, "It is well that they are dead, For I know my work is right and theirs was wrong." But my Totem saw the shame; from his ridgepole-shrine he came, And he told me in a vision of the night: - "There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays, "And every single one of them is right!" * * * * Then the silence closed upon me till They put new clothing on me Of whiter, weaker flesh and bone more frail; . And I stepped beneath Time's finger, once again a tribal singer, And a minor poet certified by Traill! Still they skirmish to and fro, men my messmates on the snow When we headed off the aurochs turn for turn; When the rich Allobrogenses never kept amanuenses, And our only plots were piled in lakes at Berne. Still a cultured Christian age sees us scuffle, squeak, and rage, Still we pinch and slap and jabber, scratch and dirk; Still we let our business slide-as we dropped the half-dressed hide- To show a fellow-savage how to work. Still the world is wondrous large,-seven seas from marge to marge- And it holds a vast of various kinds of man; And the wildest dreams of Kew are the facts of Khatmandhu And the crimes of Clapham chaste in Martaban. Here's my wisdom for your use, as I learned it when the moose And the reindeer roamed where Paris roars to-night:- "There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays, "And-every-single-one-of-them-is-right!"
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For Chroluko	[Sep. 30th, 2007\|11:57 am]
Rudyard Kipling, of course. Hymn of Breaking Strain THE careful text-books measure (Let all who build beware!) The load, the shock, the pressure Material can bear. So, when the buckled girder Lets down the grinding span, 'The blame of loss, or murder, Is laid upon the man. Not on the Stuff - the Man! But in our daily dealing With stone and steel, we find The Gods have no such feeling Of justice toward mankind. To no set gauge they make us- For no laid course prepare- And presently o'ertake us With loads we cannot bear: Too merciless to bear. The prudent text-books give it In tables at the end 'The stress that shears a rivet Or makes a tie-bar bend- 'What traffic wrecks macadam- What concrete should endure- but we, poor Sons of Adam Have no such literature, To warn us or make sure! We hold all Earth to plunder - All Time and Space as well- Too wonder-stale to wonder At each new miracle; Till, in the mid-illusion Of Godhead 'neath our hand, Falls multiple confusion On all we did or planned- The mighty works we planned. We only of Creation (0h, luckier bridge and rail) Abide the twin damnation- To fail and know we fail. Yet we - by which sole token We know we once were Gods- Take shame in being broken However great the odds- The burden of the Odds. Oh, veiled and secret Power Whose paths we seek in vain, Be with us in our hour Of overthrow and pain; That we - by which sure token We know Thy ways are true - In spite of being broken, Because of being broken May rise and build anew Stand up and build anew.
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Ok, the net is still weird	[Sep. 29th, 2007\|02:24 pm]
Found this. http://www.freakingnews.com/Raccoons-Attack-Washington-Pictures--1125.asp
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userpic	[Sep. 29th, 2007\|02:09 pm]
I have one http://www.aaanimalcontrol.com/gallery/raccoon009.jpg
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Waves	[Sep. 29th, 2007\|01:19 pm]
Hello, any and everyone. I'm kinda here. Not too sure what to say, actually. Barth.
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