Thirteen forms of Air.Thirteen ways of looking at the air.By Kenton Rai Harshbarger1Among hundred mile windsThe only thing stillWas the eye of the storm.2I was at a forkIn the roadThe wind chose for me.3I saw a feather in the airI did not see its strings.4A life withoutIs done.A life, its lungs, and its breathAre one.5I do not know which to prefer,The blessing of diversityOr the gracing of luck,The winds of changeOr the winds of fortune.6Water filled the long drainWith pulsing waves.The movement of the airStirred it, to and fro.The stillFollowing the gust,A brief respite.7O men of the world,Why do you not see?Can you not see how the airIs made of the sameOf the women about you?8I know power movingAnd liquid, ethereal powers.But I know tooThat there is the ZenIn what I know.9The leaf fell to the ground,And blew away in the wind.It never will stop.10At the sight of the invisibleNot meant to be lit,Even the gods of oldWould cry out in surprise.11We ride ove
This is Just to say"This is Just to Say"by Kenton Rai HarshbargerI do not seemy eyeshave leftmy socketsBoth lostI don't knowwherethey are nowForgive mefor stepping onyour feetwith my hands
I'll be here.If you leave meI'll be here.If you need meI'll be here.If you're with meI'll be hereAnd if you leave us allI'll be there.
The Eighteenth Angel-storyI n the olden days, no one used robots to fight. It was all done with hands, swords, armor and shields. On the fields of ancient Rome, a legionnaire could count on their gladius to work for them, rain of snow. The tools of war used to be reliable.That was millennia ago. The angel came in for another hit on Cobalt's lame chassis, smashing against its shield with a flaming sword. "Asuka, how much longer till you restore the Oracle?!" "I'm working on it, Riddick! The Magi aren't doing much. I'm not sure, but I think the angel gave you a virus. Either that or The Lone Oracle doesn't want to cooperate." Asuka shouted back over the intercom. It was amazing that the intercom worked still, considering that everything in Cobalt's cockpit was flashing between static images and pictures of some archaic actor named Richard Dean Anderson. Who was Richard Anderson anyway?The angel, Morningstar, came in for another hit. It landed directly on the mech's