Peredhil

Peredhil sighs, as he is a Lover and a Lover of Love. But I still recognize good writing..

Quick contest entry... -Peredhil A slender maiden in field of gold Cast silver eyes on knights so bold She sent them on Love’s Own True Quest And said she’d marry Knight who did best. Impoverished knight traveled through the realm Smelled Death’s debris through his helm Earthshake had nearly leveled a town He paused in quest to search around. He searched the square, he searched each house. Disturbed beetles on bodies, in field was mouse. Carrion crows called in the end of day When he finally found mad child at play. He pined for vision of the silver maiden fair But for chance met waif he stayed to care He worked to bury all those she had known And committed his honour to see her grown. There came word of knights who overcame pain There were those whose deeds listed monsters slain But the noblest knight ranked in my heart Is he who stayed and did his part. Through many long years his patient love While twinkling stars marked years above He brought back sanity to eyes of blue I am that child – this story is true. And now my abode is the hilltop crown Our castle overlooks abandoned town. My Knightly stranger has gone to ground I wonder where love can be found? A blue-eyed maid in castle spire Wearing rich embroidered attire I seek a gentle knight with heart so mild He’d give his life to raise a child.

Welcome...

Black and White -Author Unknown- (Under age 40? You won't understand.) You could hardly see for all the snow, Spread the rabbit ears as far as they go. Pull a chair up to the TV set, "Good Night, David. Good Night, Chet." Dependin'g on the channel you tuned, You got Rob and Laura - or Ward and June. It felt so good. It felt so right. Life looked better in black and white. I Love Lucy, The Real McCoys, Dennis the Menace, the Cleaver boys, Rawhide, Gunsmoke, Wagon Train, Superman, Jimmy and Lois Lane. Father Knows Best, Patty Duke, Rin Tin Tin and Lassie too, Donna Reed on Thursday night! -- Life looked better in black and white. I wanna go back to black and white. Everything always turned out right. Simple people, simple lives... Good guys always won the fights. Now nothing is the way it seems, In living color on the TV screen. Too many murders, too many fights, I wanna go back to black and white. In God they trusted, alone in bed, they slept, A promise made was a promise kept. They never cussed or broke their vows. They'd never make the network now. But if I could, I'd rather be In a TV town in '53. It felt so good. It felt so right. Life looked better in black and white. I'd trade all the channels on the satellite, If I could just turn back the clock tonight To when everybody knew wrong from right. Life was better in black and white!

That rather makes me appreciate I'm in the house looking out!

I'm glad you followed your Muse and wrote this. Sometimes discipline is knowing when to ignore the 'to-do' list. you have no idea how happy I am to see you back and writing again. -P

take your subject idea and write it out in the Writer's Workshop. Then walk away from it for a day or two. Exercise. Think about something else. Get your conscious mind out of the way and busy and let the idea simmer. Come back, reread what you wrote and see if you can build on it, twist it, tweak it, or if it knocks loose something else. If you write it... something will come of it. Scritches the wolf Politely behind the ears. -P

just on a side note, the root of History comes from the greek word historia (give me a word and I'll show you it come from a Greek! ) historia - inquiry

Sometimes lines are drawn and things said in the heat of anger that are regreted later. It is regrettably human to not 'fight fair' - to say things when angry that aren't truly meant, but said just to hurt the other person the way the speaker hurts. And when someone is feeling uncertain and afraid, unknowing if they can be forgiven... Perhaps they send an email with a listed name... So they can sideways apologize but guard their own heart from rejection in case the other person won't forgive them? Just kinda reaching here, and rambling... -Peredhil

Heh! I suddenly feel much better! I thought I'd missed more. I think Sappho should be B.C...

Hugs I'm sorry you hurt your hand. Or the Pigtergeist did. Or which ever. A hand injury really can set you back badly in an virtual social life. That said... That story was great. The build, the focus, the climatic vengeance! Really well done. AND funny.

ouch. erm. I'm capable of sarcasm, but I avoid it when I'm at the Pen. Sorry it came off that way. That was me kinda brainstorming on how you could maybe use this to grow as a writer, channel and harness the pains. I apologize that it came off wrong. Incidently, to explain, other than my own two boys who post, I try to keep everyone's real life relationships separate from their Pen identities. It makes it easier to focus on individuals and not have to worry if they've had a falling out or coming together, except as it affects them and their writing. It also helps me avoid even implicitly taking sides in things of which I have no direct knowledge. I say this in way of explaination, to amplify that I wasn't being sarcastic. When I posted, I was thinking of your work, and you. It didn't even occur to me to consider it in relation to anyone else. Peredhil retreats (hopefully tactifully).

welcome BACK! I note a couple of repost along with all the new, but it's nice to have them all together. Specifics on a first read through. - Thank you for posting in individual sections - much easier to read. I like 'question' poems. they suggest and hint answers by the way the questions are phrased, but they encourage the reader to question as grow with the artist. When I read some of these, I see the strength of allowing weakness, the vulnerability (and fear!) of love, and the courage to look at others. These themes resonate with me, so it's likely that I really like these so much 'cause they fit my world view. Trying to put myself aside... I still like them. You've grown a great deal as a writer, and show more strength than ever in expression. In some of your earlier works, the technical skill with words were there, but they seemed more manipulated. Here you present a view of you, focused through your skill in words, that invites the reader to openly examine themself too. Erm. In my opinion. Of late, I've been told I read too much into other's works. Hugs the EB Keep writing, if only for yourself.

Very graphic, conveys the immensity of feeling. The reason for desiring to end I'm not sure I understand which of the flavors this takes. Is it because the pain is so bad that feeling nothing at all would be preferable? Is it because having trusted and having trust broken by faithless 'Friend' life isn't worth trusting again? Is it the heavy culmulation of grim reality, the final straw so to speak, without a hope in the future toward which to work? Is it rage and frustration? Depression and exhaustion? Thinks about the many reasons for self destruction presented at the Pen. Oh - is it the 'I really AM hurting this badly' proving one? A rewrite might bring that out more. On the other hand, you prolly could use this, filtered through your demonstrated abilities to translate emotion to poetic words, to expand and amplify why lying is just wrong. Not in the moral sense that so many rationalize or excuse away, but in the pains that lies cause. Your 'friend', perhaps they thought that by lying they could 'protect' your feelings - but look at the exponential pain and rage you feel! Protective lies are still lies... You could mine this for several works, I think... If you have to feel it anyway, might as well codify it into words and learn. Peredhil realizes that words are cheap when pain is immediate, shuts up, and hugs

Reminds me of a scene in the Immanent Grove on Roke, from the EarthSea trilogy by Ursula K. LeGuin. As with Rune's tree conversation, this reminds us that to listen - we must be occasionally quiet ourselves...

I like the concept of it, her choice to be the different one and the sense of hidden power it gives her. I look forward to reading the rewrite.

Peredhil saunters in to rub Melba's shoulders and finds Wren waiting anxiously. Wren! I'm so happy you found us! You stirred us with a few of your works at the old place, and I was wondering if you'd find your way here. He smiles and makes small talk with Wren. Melba hisses and groans in pleasure as Peredhil's expert hands work on the knotted muscles in her neck. Wren misses most of what Peredhil says, fascinated in a strange way by the rhythmic sway of the wattles under Melba's chin. She comes back to herself as Peredhil repeats his last question. So, you're finally applying? At her anxious nod, he smiles You'll do fine! As he wanders away, Melba pulls out a small mirror and attempts to straighten her hennaed hair in case the Man of her Dreams, Brute, should wander in.

(copy of email to Wyvern on receipt. Y'all just don't KNOW how well he did. I hope you can convince him to post some pictures.) Peredhil dragged himself into the house after a long long day. The envelope gleamed golden on the table, like the sunshine which had been missing from the day. Nyyark and Crowgirl, his girlfriend, yell down the stairs, "We want to be there when you open it!" "What?" "Poetic Justice! Wyvern's CD arrived!" Nyyark, Crowgirl, White Rose Oujisama, even the B-ster and Mrs. Peredhil all crowd into the kitchen. With shaking hands, Peredhil opens the envelope and pulls out a piece of paper. There are groans as the CD remains concealed, but it's HIS prize. He loves the anticipation. He reads the Letter, and listens to Nyyark's exclamation of pleasure as he too is announced a co-winner. B-ster Dances impatiently wanting to SEE THE CD he's heard about. The entire family crowds around in anticipation. Peredhil reaches in and pulls it out. There is a gasp! And a moan. It's gift-wrapped! Peredhil chortles and unwraps it carefully, noting the twitching fingers of sons wanting to rip the paper off. Then it's revealed. The room falls quiet. "He made that???" comes the reverent question from the B-ster. "He's been here in our house. You'll be able to say that someday," replies Mrs. Peredhil, craning her neck to see better. "Where did he get the picture?" asks Crowgirl, "He didn't make that too, did he?" Peredhil reads the liner notes aloud. "Yui Temae!" they all exclaim, and examine it closely. "And Canid made the logo," Peredhil points out. They all want the CD held where they can see it closely, and ooh over the logo. No one is foolish enough to suggest Peredhil actually let go of the CD; his possessive grasp denies all challenges mutely. Opening it up, Wyvern's picture greets them. There are too many simultaneous observations and complements on the professionalism for me to record with any accuracy. I do remember Crowgirl reaching out with a sensitive finger to lightly trace Yui's brilliant interior picture, marveling so much she's hestitant to touch it, as though it might disappear as dreams do. Mrs. Peredhil marveling over the tastefully emblazoned CD; Nyyark wondering aloud if one of the pictures of the CD's Artists, semi-hidden by the CD, is Wyvern. Removing the CD removes the question - the Artist's pictures are numbered to match the songs. It's not him. "I thought he was too short," thinks Peredhil to himself. Peredhil reads through the liner notes aloud. A pleasant shared laugh rises from the group at the solemn professionalism of the writing, contrasted with the memory of the passionately idealist eyes and ready penetrating humor of Wyvern the times he's visited in the flesh. White Rose Ouijisama points out the legal disclaimer and they all begin laughing. The group breaks up to forage cupboards and refridgerator as Peredhil sits down to read the listener's guide which delineates each of the songs, driven by the news that he's NOT fixing Hamburger Helper. (Thank you! this ROCKS. I just wanted to give our first impressions while they were fresh. I'm gonna post a copy of this at the Pen. This is actually how it happened too. We are blown away by this. Personally, I've seen CD-ROMs in Best Buy that didn't look this well done.)

Wow! A torrent! It's good to get everything DOWN IN WRITING before you lose it. It's worthwhile to go back and check the spelling when you're done. But the important part is getting is out of you and written down. Sometimes the hardest, and bravest part... Some first impressions: "Saw You" - interesting look into the pain and self-doubts of someone perceiving themselves as rejected. The self-imposed acceptance of inferiority in a way grants absolution to her for the rejection, instead choosing to put it all on himself. Absolution or not, he paints her with his pain. I thought it was effective to carry on the kitten conversation, but then make it clear that the barriers are absolute - no recognition is sought, the street is not crossed. The mind that thinks on enough levels, is self-aware enough, sometimes turns inward and filters everything through it's feelings. The inner conversations make others extraneous and defeat is certain - why prove it with a reality attempt? Even when trying, it becomes half-hearted and the reactions become appropriate to the already played internal reality instead of the external moment. Self-defeat becomes self-fulfilled. Heh, catch me blurring and buzzing - I read a lot into a poem! Dark Mysterious Figure - "You do not know I loved you," What self-condemning words! The anguished cry of the self-judged, not daring to magnify the existent pains of existence by risking the fantasies he builds - but too intelligence to lose himself in the fantasies and always bitterly aware of what is not. Ouch! Really good representation of the complexities and spirals of inner perceptions. Perhaps it's possible to be TOO perceptive and intelligent - but still cursed to feel, to need, to want those things common to nearly every human being. The figure has observed, judged, and condemned himself without ever giving his love object the chance. What terrible defeats a tortured self-image reaps, clearly presented. I could make this guy into an Uberly sympathetic villian in an RPG. The stranger - I feel echos of the Door's song, "when you're a stranger". That song was a hit because so many people feel like an outsider looking in, like a Quasimodo hiding and faking behind the Jester's social masks. Love Sickness. Heh. Even Type-A control freaks are susceptible. Neat how the person can feel the physical symptoms of love, and interpret it as symptoms of an irrestable disease, later drug... Sweet addictive sickness, let me catch you again! Regret - wow. I like this one best so far. Many people have a good memory... but one so EMOTIONALLY good that they relieve the pain fresh as when it occurred... How can healing occur when time doesn't knit wounds, but instead reinflicts them? Sigh I've run out of time at the moment. I'll definitely come back. It's not often I find someone who can expression a perception or experience foreign to me in such a way I relate on the intellectual as well as the intuitive levels. Illuminating and powerful. These could become much more powerful with rewriting and refinement - the effort would be definitely worth it in my opinion. But even as they are, raw, they are moving if a person can let themself be challenged by them. -Peredhil

That's really much better than anything I could do. I can only stand back and admire. On the other hand, as Rune plays and grows here at the Pen - I hope we can put a smirk on her face and a twinkle in her eyes. When I look at that picture, I think she looks a little sad, which causes me to want to pick her up and huggle her. Of course, she might've just accidently spilled a soda on my pants, and be looking like that to melt my heart.

Peredhil congratulates the newly-weds, and looks forward to their writing together. Y'all should work together on something in PMs, and then post it together here at the Pen. That'd be cool. He then looks in askance and wonder at Scarlett, thinking he hasn't seen Finnius in a long long time. I'm not even gonna ask if you or any significant others in your life (like Cerulean) finished off your marriage. (read all about it in here)

that's neat. Short but powerful. Strangely enough, small amounts of hemlock were once a drug of choice in the idle rich - gave feelings of euphoria. (easily killed with overdose, but oh well.) Early herbalists ("witches") used hemlock (Belladonna) in unguents, tinctures, and other lotions for spells of 'flying'. The hallucinations, feelings of vertigo, and disorientation combined with almost hypnotic stupor give the recepient the illusion of desired results. -Peredhil

Peredhil saunters in, adjusts a cuff, and reads. Interesting challenge, to distill the entelechy of personae into something concrete. When I RP Peredhil, he is somewhat like me - only more so. Like slipping into a favorite pair of shoes, the fit is comfort and intuition. Blather and caveat aside, I accede to your challenge! I trust the former Terran Moderators Makes a mental note to explain Terra in the History of the Pen project will be actively and assuagingly guiding and pruning this thread? Avaunt and excelsior! Peredhil is one of several Half-Elves here, one of several Planeswalkers. There are other Seekers of truth, and others at the Pen (a great many) who are sensitive and empathetic enough to see behind the masks and pleas for attention to the wounds and needs. A unique trait though... When playing Peredhil, I try to tone down my tendancy to seek the perfect word, the word that tastes, looks, feels the best. Thus I'd probably say "Large Pacific Clam" over the neater word "geoduck", or the perfect word, "gweduc". Why? Why not arrogantly assume linguistic skills on the part of the listener, or force reading with a dictionary? Because Peredhil's most notable characteristic is that he genuinely loves other people. This is the root cause of his Politeness, and an unexpected outgrowth on my actual character. I love people, therefore Peredhil is Polite. Not love in the physical sense, for the character Peredhil gave up sex countless ages and worlds ago. His wife, a plottwist legacy of Tolkein on whose character this one is formed, was raped repeatedly by orcs in the Misty Mountains and on her survival, fled for unattained healing to the Undying West. (This bleeds into the personae as foundational to Elladan and Elrohir, but that's another post.) Peredhil's love is that of a intelligent sensitive empathetic person for another. That of a friend (friend being defined with implications of verb in the noun (somewhat like defining the actions for an object in Visual Basic or C++)) for another friend. Peredhil loves, therefore he accepts. He judges actions, but only after accepting the person. A free ticket? No, because he puts the group good before the individuals, but tends to put himself last. He strokes his beardless chin and wrinkles his brow, then absently adjusts a cuff. I'm making an rambling hash of this, aren't I? But then, my focus is normally on OTHERS, not on myself. Adjusts a cufflink and rotates his Ring absently. Notices what he's doing. I do like nice clothes. As you can see, this is an Giorgio Armani suit, with a Calvin Klein silk shirt and an Ike Behar silk tie, handpainted with an Elven "V" rune. The V represents Vilya, my Ring of Healing. Once one of the Three, deactivated after the War that ended the Third Age of Middle Earth, and Reactivated (and enhanced) with Aule's help during my long stay in the West, before I found myself wandering. I DO ramble on, don't I? Stammers to a halt. Sorry, don't mean to be Rude. I know some of the readers here have limited time and/or short attention spans. One writes to the audience, you know. Loving is so easily misunderstood. Perhaps we'd best leave it that I'm Polite. Excessively so. Good and Evil are so... relational... that they don't matter as much to Peredhil as good Manners. If he were ever to torture someone, he'd apologize nicely for the necessity of inflicting pain. Strange idea, the Polite Peredhil torturing? As a Healer of skill and power, he understands the necessity to occasionally inflict pain now for someone's healing and growth in the future. Oof! the Thought occurs. That's something to warn you all about - I'm honest. I love you enough to tell you the truth, to hurt you with my view of the truth, and trust you enough that you'll deal with the growth necessary to accept the truth. So when you ask me something - be prepared for an honest answer, not empty reassurances. Because I'm a positive person, this has mislead people before... I'm foundering. Talking about self, defining into boxes IS not my forte. Moderators? Feel free to clean this up! With a hug to the Moderating team, and a bow to everyone else, he wanders out again.

Here at the Pen, we make our dreams into realities. And the Truth is usually deeper than reality anyway. I enjoyed reading this. Welcome welcome - post more! -Peredhil

VERY nice. The image of gaining strength from spiritualistic sources is a powerful one. Other people help us to go on when we've come to the end of our personal strength. hugs -Peredhil