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Adobe

Magistrate
There is a ton of great crux writing on this forum, as that's it's real purpose.

But there are also a ton of great writers.

It is my hope we can share crux and non-crux writing here for critique and suggestion.

My first:

"אין סוף"

2nd of Tamuz, 5774
Home seemed so far then,
A step from the roadside.
At first all hope of return,
Then their stars, streetlights, and eyes went black.
Three angels opened their eyes.

4th of Tamuz, 5774
Fire burned that could never warm
A teenager taken from Jerusalem.
Beat for where he was born,
The fire he held inside burned out.
An angel opened his eyes.

22nd of Adar II, 5700 - 24th of Tamuz, 5774 (present day)
Under concrete crumbled like a cake
Blood ran from Warsaw to Gaza.
One man's terrorist and innocent child
Met with souls torn from the world for their journey home.
An eye for an eye for every angel.

27th of Nisan, 5748

Ashes too fertile to touch
Settled as dust in the attic.
The March of the Living read Psalms,
As a joyous month came to mourning.
300,000 watched with eyes wide open.

אין סוף

All you stars burned out by this cold dark matter
See clear across our universe at war.
All you angels guide us like candles in the night
It is the only way to enter hearts and minds.
So shall it be for infinity.
 
22nd Adar II 5700 = 1 April 1940, when the building of the wall round the Warsaw Ghetto began.

Thankyou very much for posting this, Adobe, a very moving and thought-provoking poem.

And for opening this thread, I hope it will become, and be respected as,
a home for serious (though not necessarily solemn) writing that's outwith our usual range.​
 
Also, yeah you got that date right. I was trying to maybe not draw parallels, but some sort of line from the suffering of two groups of people. It shocks me that there is so little compassion because i tend to see the big patterns. I do understand that there is shock, numbness, that allows for certain retaliations. Does this piece make sense? Putting the dates on the Hebrew calendar, starting with recent events and then going back to Holocaust Remembrance Day? It's a mind-fuck in some sense. I wanted there to be some fluidity in the sense of time and place. But there needs to be some sense of reality in there.

22nd Adar II 5700 = 1 April 1940, when the building of the wall round the Warsaw Ghetto began.

Thankyou very much for posting this, Adobe, a very moving and thought-provoking poem.

And for opening this thread, I hope it will become, and be respected as,
a home for serious (though not necessarily solemn) writing that's outwith our usual range.​
 
Also, yeah you got that date right. I was trying to maybe not draw parallels, but some sort of line from the suffering of two groups of people. It shocks me that there is so little compassion because i tend to see the big patterns. I do understand that there is shock, numbness, that allows for certain retaliations. Does this piece make sense? Putting the dates on the Hebrew calendar, starting with recent events and then going back to Holocaust Remembrance Day? It's a mind-fuck in some sense. I wanted there to be some fluidity in the sense of time and place. But there needs to be some sense of reality in there.
and that on this day in my country?
 
I think it was becoming clear that the Netherlands were about to be invaded,
the invasion actually began on 10th May.

Also, yeah you got that date right. I was trying to maybe not draw parallels, but some sort of line from the suffering of two groups of people. It shocks me that there is so little compassion because i tend to see the big patterns. I do understand that there is shock, numbness, that allows for certain retaliations. Does this piece make sense? Putting the dates on the Hebrew calendar, starting with recent events and then going back to Holocaust Remembrance Day? It's a mind-fuck in some sense. I wanted there to be some fluidity in the sense of time and place. But there needs to be some sense of reality in there.
Poetry - real poetry - deals with those things in our lives to which there are no easy answers,
perhaps no answers at all. It can arouse and communicate the tragedy, as well as the ecstasy,
of the human situation. I think your poem achieves the status of 'real poetry',
it doesn't carry a 'message', it wrestles with unbearable truths.

It reminds me of the poetry of Yehuda Amichai -
I expect you're familiar with his work?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yehuda_Amichai
That's praise indeed!​
 
I think it was becoming clear that The Netherlands were about to be invaded.
The invasion actually began on 10th May.

Also, yeah you got that date right. I was trying to maybe not draw parallels, but some sort of line from the suffering of two groups of people. It shocks me that there is so little compassion because i tend to see the big patterns. I do understand that there is shock, numbness, that allows for certain retaliations. Does this piece make sense? Putting the dates on the Hebrew calendar, starting with recent events and then going back to Holocaust Remembrance Day? It's a mind-fuck in some sense. I wanted there to be some fluidity in the sense of time and place. But there needs to be some sense of reality in there.
Poetry - 'real' poetry - deals with those questions in our lives to which there are no easy answers,
perhaps no answers.
Sadly, the situation in Israel/ Palestine is one such question that is agonising for all of us who care,
far worse for those involved.

Theodore Adorno famously said, "After Auschwitz, no-one can write poetry any more."
But we must.

I think your poem achieves that quality of 'real' poetry,
through vivid symbols, painful allusions,
it gives shape and expression to the deep sense of tragedy.

It reminds me a bit of the poetry of the great Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yehuda_Amichai
That's praise indeed!​
 
Always looking for new reading material. Thanks Eul! Haven't heard of him. I am aware my style can sometimes read like Khalil Gilbran. I've heard that before from a writer's group. I wrote a long piece called King Anon that I've been struggling with. Maybe I can share it here.

I think it was becoming clear that the Netherlands were about to be invaded,
the invasion actually began on 10th May.


Poetry - real poetry - deals with those things in our lives to which there are no easy answers,
perhaps no answers at all. It can arouse and communicate the tragedy, as well as the ecstasy,
of the human situation. I think your poem achieves the status of 'real poetry',
it doesn't carry a 'message', it wrestles with unbearable truths.

It reminds me of the poetry of Yehuda Amichai -
I expect you're familiar with his work?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yehuda_Amichai
That's praise indeed!​
 
Here's a contribution to Writer's Lounge - a bit outwith my and our usual range here,
though still erotic. Based on a famous legend in the Bhagavata Purana.
Krishna's the sort of god-in-human-form I like! :D

Kṛṣṇa

Time now
for us young girls
to keep our promise,
worship the Goddess.
At sunrise, bathe
in cool Kālindī’s waters.

We make out of sand our Goddess,
worship Her
with scented marigolds,
sweet barfi, ghee,
smouldering sandal
bright little dīpas.

Oh Māhā Māyā, Yogīnī,
Lady, we honour you!

(secretly)

O Goddess,
make Him mine!

Bhadrakālī,
make Him mine!

My mantra.



Every day,
wake early,
calling each others’ names.

Sing as we stride
in early sunlight
to the river-bank.

Undress,
throw down our girl-clothes.

Into the chilly water
squealing
splashing each other as we sing.

O Goddess,
make Him mine!



Oh no!

What’s that?

Sniggering boys!

He’s there –
up in that tree!

He’s got our clothes!

‘Silence!

A full month
you’ve been worshipping
the Goddess,
bathing each dawn.

It’s time to rest now.
Come,
and get your clothes.’

We glance at one another,
nervously giggle.

No girl moves.

‘I’m serious.
My boys know that I mean it.
Come, each of you,
one at a time,
show your slim bodies!’

Crouched in the water,
hiding each other’s
nakedness,
shivering…

‘Please, Kṛṣṇa, don’t –
think of your father’s reputation…
We love you, Kṛṣṇa,
every one of us!’

‘Please give us back our clothes,
we’re cold –
see how we're trembling!’

‘You know you should be kind –
this isn’t fair!’

‘If you don’t stop this –
Hey! We’ll tell the king!’

‘Oh beautiful, oh dark
Syāmasundara,’
I plead,
‘We are your slave-girls -
anything you want,
we’ll do for you!’

‘Yes!’ all the girls cry,
‘Give us back our clothes!’

‘I like your pouting,
pleading eyes, flashing white teeth –
You’ve got your women’s tactics
to perfection!

So you’re my slaves?
Do anything I want?
Then do as I say.
Come here,
and take your clothes!’

Defeated, we start to step
out of the water, quivering,
hands on our girl-parts,
trying to hide our shame.

The boys look on in triumph.



Satisfied?

Not yet.

‘You think you’ve kept your promise to the Goddess,
larking about,
cavorting in the nude?
You little tarts!’

We blush,
lower our eyes.
‘Down on your knees!’
Submissive, we obey.

‘Hands clasped in prayer
high above your heads!’

We beg for mercy,
feeling unclean.

‘Now, when each one of you sees me
hold up her clothes,
stand up,
and walk towards me slowly –
keeping your hands up!

Come to me up the bank,
between the watching men,
and I shall dress you!’

Tricked and humiliated,
mocked by the jeering youths,
made to perform like puppets,
one by one
my girl-friends walk.



At last – I am the last –
He’s holding up my little knickers!
I cannot move.

‘You won’t walk?

Crawl!’

My bare knees torn and bruised
by the stony ground,
boys laugh as I shuffle,
head bowed, my long black curls
brushing my breasts,
my hands held high in prayer -
even my girl-friends giggle.

‘And don’t forget to adore me!’

I throw myself forward,
forehead to the ground,
breasts brushing the dust,
arms stretched before me –
ah, adoration!

‘Up!’

I raise my body,
start to crawl again
towards Him.

He looks down at my body,
my tender breasts,
sees they are beautiful,

Suddenly,
I feel no shame, no fear,
strange pleasure,

suddenly –
pride in my body,
love.

‘Adore!’
Again, again, again –
ah, adoration!

Each time
the warmth of love grows stronger in me.
At last I reach Him.
He’s smiling now

‘Good girl.
Stand up,
climb up to me!’

Now feel Him touching me,
holding me firmly,
pulling my panties up my thighs –
so slowly, slowly!

Fondling, caressing,
moving his fingers through
my adolescent fur…

Ah, Kṛṣṇa!
God!


 
Here's a contribution to Writer's Lounge - a bit outwith my and our usual range here,
though still erotic. Based on a famous legend in the Bhagavata Purana.
Krishna's the sort of god-in-human-form I like! :D

Kṛṣṇa

Time now
for us young girls
to keep our promise,
worship the Goddess.
At sunrise, bathe
in cool Kālindī’s waters.

We make out of sand our Goddess,
worship Her
with scented marigolds,
sweet barfi, ghee,
smouldering sandal
bright little dīpas.

Oh Māhā Māyā, Yogīnī,
Lady, we honour you!

(secretly)

O Goddess,
make Him mine!

Bhadrakālī,
make Him mine!

My mantra.



Every day,
wake early,
calling each others’ names.

Sing as we stride
in early sunlight
to the river-bank.

Undress,
throw down our girl-clothes.

Into the chilly water
squealing
splashing each other as we sing.

O Goddess,
make Him mine!



Oh no!

What’s that?

Sniggering boys!

He’s there –
up in that tree!

He’s got our clothes!

‘Silence!

A full month
you’ve been worshipping
the Goddess,
bathing each dawn.

It’s time to rest now.
Come,
and get your clothes.’

We glance at one another,
nervously giggle.

No girl moves.

‘I’m serious.
My boys know that I mean it.
Come, each of you,
one at a time,
show your slim bodies!’

Crouched in the water,
hiding each other’s
nakedness,
shivering…

‘Please, Kṛṣṇa, don’t –
think of your father’s reputation…
We love you, Kṛṣṇa,
every one of us!’

‘Please give us back our clothes,
we’re cold –
see how we're trembling!’

‘You know you should be kind –
this isn’t fair!’

‘If you don’t stop this –
Hey! We’ll tell the king!’

‘Oh beautiful, oh dark
Syāmasundara,’
I plead,
‘We are your slave-girls -
anything you want,
we’ll do for you!’

‘Yes!’ all the girls cry,
‘Give us back our clothes!’

‘I like your pouting,
pleading eyes, flashing white teeth –
You’ve got your women’s tactics
to perfection!

So you’re my slaves?
Do anything I want?
Then do as I say.
Come here,
and take your clothes!’

Defeated, we start to step
out of the water, quivering,
hands on our girl-parts,
trying to hide our shame.

The boys look on in triumph.



Satisfied?

Not yet.

‘You think you’ve kept your promise to the Goddess,
larking about,
cavorting in the nude?
You little tarts!’

We blush,
lower our eyes.
‘Down on your knees!’
Submissive, we obey.

‘Hands clasped in prayer
high above your heads!’

We beg for mercy,
feeling unclean.

‘Now, when each one of you sees me
hold up her clothes,
stand up,
and walk towards me slowly –
keeping your hands up!

Come to me up the bank,
between the watching men,
and I shall dress you!’

Tricked and humiliated,
mocked by the jeering youths,
made to perform like puppets,
one by one
my girl-friends walk.



At last – I am the last –
He’s holding up my little knickers!
I cannot move.

‘You won’t walk?

Crawl!’

My bare knees torn and bruised
by the stony ground,
boys laugh as I shuffle,
head bowed, my long black curls
brushing my breasts,
my hands held high in prayer -
even my girl-friends giggle.

‘And don’t forget to adore me!’

I throw myself forward,
forehead to the ground,
breasts brushing the dust,
arms stretched before me –
ah, adoration!

‘Up!’

I raise my body,
start to crawl again
towards Him.

He looks down at my body,
my tender breasts,
sees they are beautiful,

Suddenly,
I feel no shame, no fear,
strange pleasure,

suddenly –
pride in my body,
love.

‘Adore!’
Again, again, again –
ah, adoration!

Each time
the warmth of love grows stronger in me.
At last I reach Him.
He’s smiling now

‘Good girl.
Stand up,
climb up to me!’

Now feel Him touching me,
holding me firmly,
pulling my panties up my thighs –
so slowly, slowly!

Fondling, caressing,
moving his fingers through
my adolescent fur…

Ah, Kṛṣṇa!
God!


Very nice indeed.
 
Here's a contribution to Writer's Lounge - a bit outwith my and our usual range here,
though still erotic. Based on a famous legend in the Bhagavata Purana.
Krishna's the sort of god-in-human-form I like! :D

Kṛṣṇa

Time now
for us young girls
to keep our promise,
worship the Goddess.
At sunrise, bathe
in cool Kālindī’s waters.

We make out of sand our Goddess,
worship Her
with scented marigolds,
sweet barfi, ghee,
smouldering sandal
bright little dīpas.

Oh Māhā Māyā, Yogīnī,
Lady, we honour you!

(secretly)

O Goddess,
make Him mine!

Bhadrakālī,
make Him mine!

My mantra.



Every day,
wake early,
calling each others’ names.

Sing as we stride
in early sunlight
to the river-bank.

Undress,
throw down our girl-clothes.

Into the chilly water
squealing
splashing each other as we sing.

O Goddess,
make Him mine!



Oh no!

What’s that?

Sniggering boys!

He’s there –
up in that tree!

He’s got our clothes!

‘Silence!

A full month
you’ve been worshipping
the Goddess,
bathing each dawn.

It’s time to rest now.
Come,
and get your clothes.’

We glance at one another,
nervously giggle.

No girl moves.

‘I’m serious.
My boys know that I mean it.
Come, each of you,
one at a time,
show your slim bodies!’

Crouched in the water,
hiding each other’s
nakedness,
shivering…

‘Please, Kṛṣṇa, don’t –
think of your father’s reputation…
We love you, Kṛṣṇa,
every one of us!’

‘Please give us back our clothes,
we’re cold –
see how we're trembling!’

‘You know you should be kind –
this isn’t fair!’

‘If you don’t stop this –
Hey! We’ll tell the king!’

‘Oh beautiful, oh dark
Syāmasundara,’
I plead,
‘We are your slave-girls -
anything you want,
we’ll do for you!’

‘Yes!’ all the girls cry,
‘Give us back our clothes!’

‘I like your pouting,
pleading eyes, flashing white teeth –
You’ve got your women’s tactics
to perfection!

So you’re my slaves?
Do anything I want?
Then do as I say.
Come here,
and take your clothes!’

Defeated, we start to step
out of the water, quivering,
hands on our girl-parts,
trying to hide our shame.

The boys look on in triumph.



Satisfied?

Not yet.

‘You think you’ve kept your promise to the Goddess,
larking about,
cavorting in the nude?
You little tarts!’

We blush,
lower our eyes.
‘Down on your knees!’
Submissive, we obey.

‘Hands clasped in prayer
high above your heads!’

We beg for mercy,
feeling unclean.

‘Now, when each one of you sees me
hold up her clothes,
stand up,
and walk towards me slowly –
keeping your hands up!

Come to me up the bank,
between the watching men,
and I shall dress you!’

Tricked and humiliated,
mocked by the jeering youths,
made to perform like puppets,
one by one
my girl-friends walk.



At last – I am the last –
He’s holding up my little knickers!
I cannot move.

‘You won’t walk?

Crawl!’

My bare knees torn and bruised
by the stony ground,
boys laugh as I shuffle,
head bowed, my long black curls
brushing my breasts,
my hands held high in prayer -
even my girl-friends giggle.

‘And don’t forget to adore me!’

I throw myself forward,
forehead to the ground,
breasts brushing the dust,
arms stretched before me –
ah, adoration!

‘Up!’

I raise my body,
start to crawl again
towards Him.

He looks down at my body,
my tender breasts,
sees they are beautiful,

Suddenly,
I feel no shame, no fear,
strange pleasure,

suddenly –
pride in my body,
love.

‘Adore!’
Again, again, again –
ah, adoration!

Each time
the warmth of love grows stronger in me.
At last I reach Him.
He’s smiling now

‘Good girl.
Stand up,
climb up to me!’

Now feel Him touching me,
holding me firmly,
pulling my panties up my thighs –
so slowly, slowly!

Fondling, caressing,
moving his fingers through
my adolescent fur…

Ah, Kṛṣṇa!
God!



I may not be familiar with the Hindu references, but they really add to the beauty of this, don't they?
 
Well this certainly makes one want to know more about India. Eul does a wonderful job here capturing the sublime irony of many Hindu (or is it Hindi?) myths. I want to eat Palak Paneer and worship Eul in her nudity like the lucky Krishna! Eul, I love how you've a solid erotic power play in there. And I live the style of short breaks between the scenes. You also do a great job of minimal descriptive exposition, including references and textures of the girls experience but not distracting the reader with their definitions! Bravo.

I may not be familiar with the Hindu references, but they really add to the beauty of this, don't they?
 
thanks Adobe :) -
'Hindu' is the adjective for the religion, or more accurately, 'religious culture'.
'Hindi' is the name of the most widely-spoken language in India,
especially in the populous north-central part of the country.
The Bhāgavata Purāṇa is a great (in all senses) collection of stories of Krishna,
those about his childhood and youthful exploits with the Gopis (cowgirls),
and his love for his favourite, Radha, being most popular.
But it is a work full of philosophical and spiritual meaning -
as ever on the Forums, I hope no-one's religious sensitivities are offended,
but I think on the whole Hindus have less problem than Christians
with the idea of a robustly sexy God!​
 
found:
Mythica
Please enter the award-winning internet encyclopedia of mythology, folklore, and religion. Here you will find everything from A-gskw to Zveda Vechanyaya, with plenty in between.

The mythology section is divided to six geographical regions: Africa, Americas, Asia, Europe, Middle East, and Oceania. Each region has many clearly defined subdivisions that will ease your search.
The Folklore section contains general folklore, Arthurian legends, and fascinating folktales from many lands.

In addition, we feature special interest areas to enhance and refine your research. A Bestiary, legendary heroes, an image gallery, and genealogical tables of various pantheons and prominent houses.

To bring our entities to life, we have created an image gallery, where you will find hundreds of images of all kinds of deities, heroes, and strange creatures of every description.

The encyclopedia will serve the serious researcher, the student, and the casual reader with equal success. Come in and enjoy! Think mythology, think EM!
 
I really really really need your feedback on this one. This is a story I have had endless outlines for, for years. It is supposed to be written in a style I am not comfortable with, one that can be read and enjoyed by children and adults alike. It is a light-hearted (compassionate-minded story) inspired by the darkest events that have effected my life. I want to finish it, and publish it somehow as I feel it is a story that needs to be told in a world so increasingly divided. This is the first draft, written over the past two days. I want every word of criticism you can think of. Without further adieu, thank you.

King Anon
1. The Bell Tower

Softly speaking, the wind rose from silence to a whisper as late summer leaves began to murmur on the trees outside the village of Asu. Asu sat on a hilltop that was shaped like a bell, with long valleys all around on all sides. There was an emerald field with a lake outside the fences at the edge of the village where their farming was done. Few ever ventured beyond it.

There was a Bell Tower at the heart of the village which was their pride and joy. The people of Asu lived their lives by the sway and swell of the pendulum?? that rang the bell at the top of the tower. It signaled when the day began, then to take their meals, when to come in from the fields in the evening, and then to go to bed at night. It was a busy day, with harvest in full swing?? Most of the villagers had gone to rest early that night as the wind rose to a howl.

The following morning, with shock and awe, the villagers stood saddened by the sight of their Bell Tower fallen apart and smoldering. The tower had fallen in on itself, and the bell had come off its hinge and rolled all the way down the hill. No one knew what happened exactly, but there were many rumors that started that day. Some went to retrieve the bell, they were frightened by being farther from the village than ever before. But they were brave and strong and didn't notice until they got it back the bell had a crack in it.

They had to act, even without knowing what happened. So they started to cut down the trees around the village. Soon all the trees on the hilltop were sawed and sanded and used to raise a tall wall that guarded the village on every side. Many creatures from the woods could be seen running away, down the hill, and into the valley. They were alone now, but happy, they had used what wood was left to build a new Bell Tower over the remains of the one they lost that fateful summer day.

2.) The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Eye loved to howl, his sandy hair waved all around as he shook his head and played chase with other children in the field. Every evening after their chores were done, the children of the village got to play in the field until the bell tolled for supper. Eye always said he saw wolves running away when the adults cut down the trees, he had become fascinated with them. Other children didn't like it when he howled so he was often left on his own after a few games of chase.

One night he was wandering around the edge of the field, where the hill got steep. He loved to go out there to see all the world around him. And as the sun went down, on a clear night, he could see the stars in the sky the best from that place. That night he looked up and saw a bright light like a star, chasing something across the sky. He had never seen anything like it! It came from behind him, behind the village wall and went far off into the horizon over the valley. Eye smiled wide as if he had been waiting his whole life to see that light and then he ran back to tell others.

Rae was the village gate-keeper, he stood strong and stout by the gate and raised and lowered it when the bell tolled. He was friendly and often lifted the children in his strong arms way over his head. Everyone was coming in for the day, and he saw Eye running back faster than anyone. Eye arrived at his feet in a cloud of dust. As the cloud disappeared, Rae looked down and heard the eager boy yelling about something he saw in the sky. A big firey fireball had come over the village and was going to fall down soon!? Rae just patted the boy on the back and signaled him to run along inside.

That evening Eye's family was visited by the Village Elder, Spil. Spil claimed he was told by Rea that the boy had made up a story about a comet that was going to soon destroy the village. He reminded them about Eye's history of tall tales. Once the boy claimed the fields were flooded, when it was only the morning dew. Another time apparently giant ants were carrying boulders up the hill! Spil was wise and knew the boy was only exaggerating, but he asked his parents to warn Eye about starting rumors and telling lies.

3. The Wolf

Eye was gazing at an old structure. He was hiding in his favorite place that night, in the scaffolding under the Bell Tower. The tower was built from solid planks of wood tightly bound so that no light got in. Eye had brought a torch for that reason. And inside there was an odd structure or sculpture, Eye loved to stare at it and wonder what it was. Large branches were coming out at all angles, it looked almost like a tree that was sprouting wings. The branches were badly burned, and some parts left blackened ash on the boys finger when touched them.

Outside, it was getting late at night. Normally Eye would have been home by now, but he wanted time to think about the light he saw in the sky. There was a scream from far off, but Eye could not hear it. People began to gather in the square around the Bell Tower. Suddenly the bell tolled! That was rare at night, leaving Eye to worry that something was wrong. He knew there would be people gathered around the tower so he quickly grabbed part of the sculpture with both hands and rubbed his face with the soot. He wanted a disguise.

Eye snuffed out the torch on the ground and crawled outside. He could see villagers everywhere. He looked up and saw so many torches and bodies that he couldn't see the sky. Someone said there was a wolf at the gate! Eye ran around the edge of the crowd and headed for the gate. As he did so there were strange things being said like, "They got inside!" "There's wolves everywhere!" Eye was focused on his task and didn't stop to think about what the adults around him were yelling about.

When he reached the gate, it was closed of course, by Rae. Eye's heart sank. He was dirty, and tired, and came all that way for nothing. But Rae was nowhere to be found. Eye searched for him in over by the pulleys that helped him lift the gate. Eye thought he must have gone to the Bell Tower with all the others. Eye had seen Rae open the gate many times before, and he jumped up to grab the ropes. He hung there with his feet off the ground for a second without moving. Then he tugged at the rope and slowly the bottom of the gate rose from the ground until it was balanced halfway up. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Eye slid under the gate. The gate fell closed behind him with a thunderous boom.

4.) The Rules

It would be a long night for those adults who gathered around the Bell Tower. In the village of Asu, it was custom for the children to wear hooded cloaks. The adults commonly wore theirs down after they earned the privilege. The children wore theirs up even at night to help lull them into a restful state. Unaware that he was missing, the adults cursed Eye for staying out in the field too long and going too far each night. They thought he must have lead the wolves to them.

It was not long after that they came up with a plan. They must find the wolves as their were now rumored to be more of them. But first they most protect their children, so the first rule they came up with was the children must be kept inside, day or night until the wolves were found. This also helped them to search without delay. So soon all were on the lookout.

The bell on top of the tower was collecting dust, as no one dared ring it to disturb the search. Before long, some of the children began to cry. The adults didn't want them to be found by the wolves, so they made the second rule for everyone to always wear their hoods over their heads. This would also help silence the children's cries. It also made communication difficult as it was not easy to tell each other apart. But this was no concern for the village of Asu, they knew that any wolf that might have gotten inside would be an obvious sight.

Still, it became harder to see, and harder to hear each other. All of Asu was being watched and listened to after endless days and nights. There were more and more sightings of wolves, and more rumors being spread of their whereabouts. Everyone was becoming confused! The last rule was made, that no one speak of the wolves, no one speak at all. Torches were lit all around the walls of Asu. Everything was illuminated inside the village, but the smoke started to obscure the sky.

5.) The Wolf Pack

From outside the gate, Eye could see everything clear as day. There was a full moon above, illuminating everything. Eye stood on the dirt path that surrounded the village walls. He was shocked to see no wolf at first. He imagined it would be an enormous fury beast with razor sharp teeth and claws. There was no insect buzz, barely a sound in the world. Just then, two bright eyes appeared from the tall grass by the field. As they rose, Eye could focus on the outline of what looked like a large dog. The wolf. It bolted. The chase was on!

Eye followed the beast through the field. He slowed as he reached the edge, looking back he saw what would like two eyes burning high above the village gate. He shook off that alien sight and continued down the hill, chasing after the wolf that was far ahead by then. Running for what seemed like miles, Eye passed a gnarly tree that looked like it might have been dead for some time. It caught his eye and he knew he could find his way home if he found the tree again.

The wolf and boy reached a cave. Eye hesitated at the entrance after the wolf walked in. Three wolf pups emerged, with the wolf Eye now knew to be their mother close behind. The first pup had a scar on its eye, it watched the others play from a distance. It saw a movement in a bush outside the cave, and growled getting the others attention. The second pup with one floppy ear heard the growl, crouched down, and the third pup did the same. They were all facing where the first was looking. The third pup had not made a sound the whole time. It crawled up to the bush, suddenly raised it's head and barked with all its might! A tail rose from the bush, wagging behind it. The mother wolf quickly pounced ahead and captured their prey, a fox!

Eye was delighted to see this family work so well together. He wondered if the pups had been hunting all along or just playing. The wolf pack triumphantly headed back inside the cave, and as they did Eye started to miss his home. Although he was an outcast, he cared about Asu. He knew he was often misunderstood. Things he would tell Rae, would get confused somehow by Spil, and then his parents would tell him not to do things or say things he had never done or said in the first place. He thought of the wolf pack and how well they worked together and he made his way back home.

6.) The Gnarly Tree

Eye raced back and stopped at the gnarly tree on the way. Most of the branches were bare and broken, and they were parted in the middle so it looked like two hands reaching up out of the earth into the sky! Eye walked around the tree, and stumbled, and fell into a deep hole that he hadn't noticed before. He looked back, and saw the tree in greater detail now with the moon hanging above it. Maybe the tree wasn't dead, as now Eye could see flowering branches lower near the trunk. But the rest was badly burned, it reminded him of the odd sculpture under the Bell Tower.

Eye turned to the hole and looked for a way out. It was as deep as his shoulders so he needed help climbing out. Luckily in the moonlight he noticed a glimmer of light, like a far out star or a firefly. As I got closer to it, he noticed it was a large stone! It was very heavy but Eye was strong and able to move it to the edge of the hole. He stepped on it and was able to lift himself out of the hole by also clinging to the roots of the tree. The moon was low, and the sun was just starting to rise. It was a rare moment when both could be seen.

Without wanting to leave the stone and the gnarly tree, Eye wondered how he could reach in and pull it out. He took a large branch, and since he could see better now that the sun was out, he was able to push the stone to the shallowest part of the crater it was in. Eye reached in a lifted the stone with all his strength. He lifted it above his head and looking at the tree figured it out! It hit the tree and the ground in an explosion. The stone was a meteor, it must have been the shooting star he saw earlier! He couldn't wait to tell the village!

By the time Eye reached Asu, the sun was high above. He rolled the stone right up to the gate, and started to bang on it with his fists. "Rae!" He called. Eye had never had to call for someone to open the gate before. There was no answer for a short while, then the gate slowly creaked open. Rae stood behind it, but he was not himself. He didn't welcome Eye back. He had his hood on, which was also unusual. Eye rolled the stone inside and the gate closed behind him.

7. The Courtyard

The village was silent. There were strange lines drawn in the sand everywhere. Eye didn't know if they were always there and he just didn't notice because he had never seen Asu so empty. "What happened?" He asked Rae. Rae was gone. Eye went straight to his home to find his family. When he entered the doorway, we was still shocked to find no one. That was until he saw something move under a table. He looked closer and it was his sister.

"Hi Sis!" Eye shouted happily. But she didn't respond. She was staring past Eye, just behind him, where in the corner of the room his mother and father circled each other. Eye laughed as he found this strange. He also never saw his parents with their hoods up. Eye thought they looked like very big children. Eventually their attention turned to him, but again like Rae they did not greet him. Eye grew scared and his heart sank.

He ran away and rolled his stone to the Bell Tower. There he found Rae in the courtyard around the tower with Spil. They were circling each other just like his parents! The two of them paced around each other seemingly oblivious of the world around them with a clear fear in their eyes. They grumbled and even barked at each other at times. Eye grew impatient. He backed into the side of the tower. And as the back of his head gently fell on the wooden base of it, Eye knew what to do.

Eye climbed the tower from inside, there was a ladder on the inside by the sculpture. He had never been that high before, but when he go to the top of the tower he rang the bell with all his might! He looked down at the courtyard, and saw the gatekeeper and village elder gaze back up at him. They were so small from so high, and again Eye laughed to himself with the funny feeling these adults were like children. Just then Eye saw his own parents walk into the square. His sister followed them, but still with some fear in her eyes. One by one the village followed and filled the courtyard.

8. The Curse and the Crown

The weather was different over the village then, and it began to rain. All of Asu was gathered in the same place, where they has held countless celebrations market festivals. But Eye had never seen people act like they were, all afraid of each other. The adults were all keeping their distance from each other. In the sunlight Eye could see the fear in their eyes, their faces obscured in their hoods. The children were whimpering, making squeaks and sounds like the wolf pups. Just then Eye rang the bell once more and yelled, "I'm sorry!"

Everyone stood still and looked up at the boy who stood at the edge of the Bell Tower. Eye spoke his mind, "I know I caused alarm when I told Rae about the light in the sky. And when I heard about the wolf at the gate, I had painted myself black to help sneak out. The wolf was hunting for food for its cubs. It found none here, so it ran back to them. I saw them hunt together. By watching each other, listening to each other, and speaking for each other they were able to catch the fox.

"And on my way home, I found a gnarly tree that was burned and missing branches. I found a stone nearby, the one at your feet." Eye stopped speaking so he could climb back down. As he saw the sculpture one more time on his way out of the Bell Tower he suddenly saw everything. It all made sense. He continued to speak when he got outside, "There was a light in the sky, and I found what caused it. That stone is a meteor. If you will follow me, you will see it hit the old bell tower high on our hill, and continued down into the valley, striking the gnarly tree."

He went to his parents, "You think you're surrounded by wolves. Everyone here has been cursed. The real wolf outside caused you no harm, but the endless stories about it turned it into a monster. You're real people. People of Asu. All of you." They all followed Eye as he took them back to the gnarly tree. There by the tree, there was a pond that hadn't been there before. The pond was where the crater once was. One by one they looked into the water and saw their reflections. Upon seeing their faces some laughed, some cried right back into the waters. They became able to see each other without fear again.

And on that day, back in Asu they made a crown forged from metals they found in the meteor. They crowned the child Eye, King Anon, who taught them to see, hear, and speak of each other with civility.
 
I think that's a lovely story Adobe, it certainly held my attention -
I like stories that have that sort of timeless, legendary quality,
enjoyable for children and for the child in all of us.

A few words:

pendulum?? I think you're referring to a mechanical hammer that strikes the (outside of the) bell?
'Bell-hammer' seems to be the word for that - at least that's what I find in an account of how Big Ben works on the UK Parliament website!

harvest in full swing?? Yes, just the right phrase, especially if they were using sickles!

shock and awe: a cliché, with unhappy associations with the Iraq invasion of 2003, 'shock and amazement/ astonishment, even horror'?

fury beast: furry, I think (or furious?)
 
Good catches! I have to stop using placeholder language when im not sure what I want to say, because then I forget to go back and fix it. Pendulum is an example of that. Thanks Eul.
 
Here's a contribution to Writer's Lounge - a bit outwith my and our usual range here,
though still erotic. Based on a famous legend in the Bhagavata Purana.
Krishna's the sort of god-in-human-form I like! :D

Kṛṣṇa

Time now
for us young girls
to keep our promise,
worship the Goddess.
At sunrise, bathe
in cool Kālindī’s waters.

We make out of sand our Goddess,
worship Her
with scented marigolds,
sweet barfi, ghee,
smouldering sandal
bright little dīpas.

Oh Māhā Māyā, Yogīnī,
Lady, we honour you!

(secretly)

O Goddess,
make Him mine!

Bhadrakālī,
make Him mine!

My mantra.



Every day,
wake early,
calling each others’ names.

Sing as we stride
in early sunlight
to the river-bank.

Undress,
throw down our girl-clothes.

Into the chilly water
squealing
splashing each other as we sing.

O Goddess,
make Him mine!



Oh no!

What’s that?

Sniggering boys!

He’s there –
up in that tree!

He’s got our clothes!

‘Silence!

A full month
you’ve been worshipping
the Goddess,
bathing each dawn.

It’s time to rest now.
Come,
and get your clothes.’

We glance at one another,
nervously giggle.

No girl moves.

‘I’m serious.
My boys know that I mean it.
Come, each of you,
one at a time,
show your slim bodies!’

Crouched in the water,
hiding each other’s
nakedness,
shivering…

‘Please, Kṛṣṇa, don’t –
think of your father’s reputation…
We love you, Kṛṣṇa,
every one of us!’

‘Please give us back our clothes,
we’re cold –
see how we're trembling!’

‘You know you should be kind –
this isn’t fair!’

‘If you don’t stop this –
Hey! We’ll tell the king!’

‘Oh beautiful, oh dark
Syāmasundara,’
I plead,
‘We are your slave-girls -
anything you want,
we’ll do for you!’

‘Yes!’ all the girls cry,
‘Give us back our clothes!’

‘I like your pouting,
pleading eyes, flashing white teeth –
You’ve got your women’s tactics
to perfection!

So you’re my slaves?
Do anything I want?
Then do as I say.
Come here,
and take your clothes!’

Defeated, we start to step
out of the water, quivering,
hands on our girl-parts,
trying to hide our shame.

The boys look on in triumph.



Satisfied?

Not yet.

‘You think you’ve kept your promise to the Goddess,
larking about,
cavorting in the nude?
You little tarts!’

We blush,
lower our eyes.
‘Down on your knees!’
Submissive, we obey.

‘Hands clasped in prayer
high above your heads!’

We beg for mercy,
feeling unclean.

‘Now, when each one of you sees me
hold up her clothes,
stand up,
and walk towards me slowly –
keeping your hands up!

Come to me up the bank,
between the watching men,
and I shall dress you!’

Tricked and humiliated,
mocked by the jeering youths,
made to perform like puppets,
one by one
my girl-friends walk.



At last – I am the last –
He’s holding up my little knickers!
I cannot move.

‘You won’t walk?

Crawl!’

My bare knees torn and bruised
by the stony ground,
boys laugh as I shuffle,
head bowed, my long black curls
brushing my breasts,
my hands held high in prayer -
even my girl-friends giggle.

‘And don’t forget to adore me!’

I throw myself forward,
forehead to the ground,
breasts brushing the dust,
arms stretched before me –
ah, adoration!

‘Up!’

I raise my body,
start to crawl again
towards Him.

He looks down at my body,
my tender breasts,
sees they are beautiful,

Suddenly,
I feel no shame, no fear,
strange pleasure,

suddenly –
pride in my body,
love.

‘Adore!’
Again, again, again –
ah, adoration!

Each time
the warmth of love grows stronger in me.
At last I reach Him.
He’s smiling now

‘Good girl.
Stand up,
climb up to me!’

Now feel Him touching me,
holding me firmly,
pulling my panties up my thighs –
so slowly, slowly!

Fondling, caressing,
moving his fingers through
my adolescent fur…

Ah, Kṛṣṇa!
God!


Krishna, Rama both are the Visanu's human form in Hindu. Buddha too. ;)
 
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