The Holiday Spirit

Thursday, December 2Nd, 7:51 P.M.
Mood: Festive, Energetic
Music: Christmas Lights, by Coldplay

Happy Holidays all, it would appear that the season is upon us. Thanksgiving is over and I now find myself preparing for Christmas. Well, that and Meán Geimhridh, the Celtic winter solstice. I plan to build a replica stone circle in my back garden that will line up with the setting winter sun on Dec. 23Rd. But anyways back to Christmas. The season of giving is here, and so I think some thanks are in order. But before I start, please let me say that I am thankful for all you readers, it would be nothing without you. Now with that said, I think we should begin. (A small note, these are in random order, I just wrote them as they popped into my head.)


************************************************************************************

*ahem* I, The Raven King, am thankful for:

Saphira Bjartskular, Dragons, Wyrms, Sea Serpents, Cryptids, Cryptozoology, Lake Monsters, Lochs, Europe, Computers, Blogs, Steve Jobs, Nikola Tesla, Bill Gates, JRR Tolkien, Skulduggery Pleasant, Albert Einstein, Tim Burton, Danny Elfman, Edgar Allan Poe, Ray Bradbury, John Keats, Uthire Pendragon, J.R.R Tolkien,Chris Marten, Thomas Riley, Coldplay, Phoenix, U2, Daft Punk, Paramore, Paranormal Researchers, Brazing Goggles, Mothman, UFO's, Point Pleasant, Paranormal Authors, Ghosts, Reptiles, Dido, The Broken Bells, Oingo Boingo, John Lennon, Pink Floyd, Aragorn, Gandalf, Tanith Low, Drake (from the tunnels series), Data, Edward Steam, Victor Evernight, Thomas Riley (the character this time), Barnaby Grimes, Black Tigers, Regular Tigers, Spotted Lions, Flying Snakes, Switzerland, Giant Lizards, Melangistic Big Cats, The British Big Cat Society, SteamPunk, Magic, Dragons (again), Poetry, Science, Gloom, Ipods, Laptops, Merlin, Music, Airships, Mysteries, His Majesty's Dragon (series), Evil Genius (book), Large Black Greatcoats, Purple Tinted SteamPunk Sunglasses, Alice In Wonderland, The Lord Of The Rings, Ghost And Paranormal Researchers, Truly Dedicated Cryptid Researchers, Apple Computers, Airman, Artemis Fowl, Space Travel, The Fact That Space Shuttles Are Getting Retired, Slashdot, Thinkgeek.com, Dracula, Brahm Stoker, Narnia, The Tunnels Series, Quantum Physics, Skulls, Blogspot, Dragons (yet again, I love them), KnightRider, Star Trek, The International Society Of Cryptozoology, The Loch Ness Monster Fan Page, Grooveshark, Night Vision Goggles, Etsy, Gifts, DARPA, Robots, NASA, Blender, Illusions, Free Software, DOSBOX, Playing Cards, The Prestige, BlendSwap.com, Instructables, Rush, Josh Groban, Enya, R.E.M., Soundtracks, Runes, Fantasy, Magic, Poetry, Technology, Science, Art,The Middle Ages, Books, Movies, Illusions, Dreams, Machines, Droid Phones, The X Files, Swords and Other Ancient Weaponry,Programming, Christopher Paolini, Ancient Sites (Such as Stonehenge), Mysteries, Dreary, Sad, or Gloomy Things, Robotics, Animation, Directing, Puppetry, Astronomy, Mechanics, Physics, Alchemy, History, Dragons (YES AGAIN), Writing, DIY, Dark Matter, The Unknown, The Universe, SteamPunk Couture, The Elvish Language, Science Fiction, Writing The Evernight Chronicles, Elvish Couture, Stone Circles, Gears, Steam, The Celts, Armor, Swords, Pikes, All Manner Of Cool Weaponry, Canes, Scarves, Theater, Thespians, Tophats, Goggles, Encyclopedias, Libraries, Black Leopards, Ireland, Scotland, Superstitions,

AND DRAGONS, DEAR, LOVELY WONDERFUL DRAGONS!!!!

And thank you again to all you readers out there! Take a bow!

Before you go, leave me a comment about your SteamPunk, Fantasy, or just cool Christmas ideas to help make this holiday season truly unforgettable.

Thanks,

The Raven King

The Minstrel - A Poem

Friday, October 8Th, 5:58 P.M.
Mood: Whimsical, Musical
Music: Remember When It Rained, by Josh Groban

A Note: This poem was written for a friend of mine, who is an author. It symbolizes all who write, read, and enjoy the stories that pour forth from the mind of a writer.


The Minstrel - A Poem
***************************************************************************************

Look upon the ink that traces,

gentle lines upon the faces,

Of the ancient, cracking pages,

of the tale yet to come forth.

See her hand as it goes flitting,

adding lines both new and fitting,

To the story waiting to be born.

Hour on hour 'til time grows late,

weaving tales of death and fate,

What could cause that such a state,

should intrude upon the mind?

So it seems that she is fated,

still she writes here unabated,

though the hour grows late and light grows dim.

Spinning stories, weaving tales,

from her open mind that hails,

To the stories as they enter one by one.

Words, like rain pours from her pen,

crossed out, revised, then scrawled again,

Upon the page as blank and white as snow.

Lives and stories,

deaths and glories,

come from the hand that strokes the page.

Ghosts that flit about the gloom,

stories, told inside the room,

were she sits and writes yet still.

Dreams they are, that pour forth waiting,

to be told, of love and hating,

upon the page that waits.

Dreams, for without them we are nothing.

For what are we ourselves?

I shall tell you.

Dreams.

The Brief Yet Wondrous Life Of A Flame Struck In The Dark - A Poem

Thursday, September 23Rd, 4:35 P.M.
Mood: Foggy, Slightly Bored
Music: Life In Technicolor Part 2., by Coldplay



The Brief Yet Wondrous Life Of A Flame Struck In The Dark - A Poem
**************************************************************



The darkness crept in all around,
and filled the air without a sound,



The utter darkness hung about,
that filled the senses, stilled the shout,


And brought to one a dreaded feeling,
so dark, so cold, and yet revealing,


Of the tears, the moans, the screaming,
and the places, cold and teeming,


With the creatures of most ancient and forgotten lore.


Then for a second, a brief second,
light burst forth, though darkness beckoned,

Shattering the darkness, dispelling the gloom,
lighting the contents of the forgotten room you stood in so long ago.


And for moment fire shone,
and lit the air, the dust, the stone,



In that place now so far away.


And then it flickered, waved and sputtered,
as the wind with sighs and mutters,


Sought to quench the flame so dear,
the light that banished
darkest fear,



And then at last there in the dark,
the flame dimmed to but a spark,



And then at last the flame receded,
though it's light was sorely needed,



And the dark came swirling back,
from the corners and the cracks,



And filled the room once more.



What is the flickering of the fire but a life?

To be born into darkness.

To bring light.






To live.







To love.






And to dim, in the fullness of time,

leaving the mystery of darkness as it was when we came.

Is it not extraordinary?

The simple life of a flame struck in the dark.
**************************************

Steampunk Shopping

Wednesday, September 1St, 4:13 P.M.
Mood: Happy, Whimsical
Music: The Ghost Inside, by The Broken Bells



I like SteamPunk, this much is clear. So when I want to buy a new oculus, monocle, cane, etc. I really have to look. I have found a few good sources though. Etsy is FANTASTIC as far as SteamShopping (to coin the phrase) goes. I found a few sellers that produce amazing works of art that are not only ornamental but functional.









Oldjunkyardbotique on Etsy is great for wearable items for a decently low price, you can view their page here. The picture at right is of their "Tesla Goggles" and it is going for $35.00 nicely priced and good looking, as well as functional, perfect for that lightning experiment I had in mind.











The other seller I found is SteamPunkDesign. You can see their page here. The marvoulus pieces that this craftsman creates are incredible. These are NOT things to wear during your experiments. No, these are the things that the classic SteamPunk denizen wears to costume balls and keep in velvet lined cases in safes when not in use. These items sell for hundreds of dollars and are created from the finest brass and leather. The picture at left is a pair of their dual oculars, selling for $160.00.





Those are my sources for SteamPunk atire, be it goggles, gas masks, monocles or teaflasks. And thus finishes my Steam Culture post for today.

Amongst The Graves, A Poem

Thursday, August 12Th, 3:50 P.M.
Mood: Poetic, Excited
Music: 2112, by Rush

Amongst The Graves, A Poem
*******************************************************************

Darkness creeps across the stones,
and mingles with the sinking bones,

and stirs within a chilling sense,
of life and it's indifference.

For here they care not what you did in life,
there is no hurry here, no eternal strife,

only rest and quiet.

A grinning skull, a sunken tomb,
the dark, the damp, the endless gloom.

Fills me with a sense of dread,
as I sit here amongst the dead,

and think of life and all it's pain,
the loss, the strife, the thoughts of gain.

But there is none of that amongst the graves.

No greed, no toil no suffering,
only rest.

The restful bones, the sleeping bones,
the ancients now make here their homes.

They sleep in their beds so peacefully,
and it seems as if they speak to me,

And reach towards with bony hands,
some goal eternal rest demands,

And I will sit amongst the graves,
in peace until the end of days,

And I will join them there at last,
and there find peace at long, at last.

And sleep here in a stony tomb,
fearing no more my mortal doom.

Here amongst the graves.

****************************************************

The Rain, A Poem

Thursday, July 22Nd, 2:11 A.M.
Mood: Tired, Fascinated
Music: Voyager, by Daft Punk


The Rain, A Poem.
*********************************************************************

See the rain, the lovely rain,
as it goes trickling down my skin.

Let it fill you, bind you, send you,
into the memories of then.

And see the rain, the noble rain,
as it falls to cobbled streets bellow,

And watch it run beneath the feet,
of the people as they come and go.

And remember then as we walked,
together in the rainy, misty weather,
the fog as it curled about,
and clung to the hem of our cloaks as we walked,
on that dank morning so long ago.

We looked about and in the rain,
you whispered of the things you saw,
the life, the light.

Though all I saw was death,
and sorrow, you saw happiness.

I remember you, your gentle manner,
your smile, your whisper, your ways.

The way you could lift the gloom,
and take me from this preemptive tomb,
and banish the darkness.

Though it never truly left.
It clung to me, never leaving.
Even in the light it hid in the corners of the room.

Waiting to fill my mind with thoughts of dread and doom.


And now without you it swirls about me,
never leaving.

Never leaving.

It has become my friend, my aid,
my companion.

Like the rain.
The Cold.

They are my family now,
my only friends.

But I remember.
I remember because of the rain.

The noble rain.
The gentle rain.

And as it trickles down my face.
I lift my head up to the sky and call your name.

And feel the rain.

The rain upon my skin.

As it has always been, here with me.

In the rain.

*******************************************************************

Coldplay's New CD

Wednesday, June 23Rd, 3:30 P.M.

Mood: Alert, Interested

Music: VCR , by The XX



I heard that Coldplay has a new CD coming out soon.

I can't wait to hear it, after the roaring success of "Viva la Vida: or Death and All his Friends" I am truly excited.

I can't wait to hear what new sound these brilliant musicians have come up with now.

Alone in the Dark, a Poem

Wednesday, June 16Th, 3:13 P.M.
Mood: Gloomy, Rested
Music: Sinkin' Soon, by Norah Jones



Alone in the Dark, A Poem
by: The Raven King





************************

Do not leave me in the dark,
for I am so afraid.


The grinning skulls with their empty eyes,
stare blankly into mine.


And all around the spirits stir,
and gently sigh my name.


They blew out the lamps,
and said good all,
and left me here in the dark.


Alone.


In the damp I sit.


Alone.

'Til morning comes.


Alone.


'Til end of time, for that is what I am.


Alone.

Alone!

Alone!

I cry from the depths of this cell that holds me.

In the blackness I clutch my heart, and weep.

Weep for all that is gone.

All that is lost.

All that I will never see again.

The warmth of the sun.

The smell of the new fallen rain upon the bare earth.

The sight of lightning illuminating the sky.

The sound of the trees as the wind tosses them to and fro.

All this I have lost.

All there is now is darkness.

And I.

Here.

Alone.

But am I?

For I can hear the spirits.

The souls of those who have passed before me.

And when I hear this I smile.

Though I may be alone in the dark.

For I know that when I join them, I can rejoice in their company.

But for now I am lost.

I

am

alone.

And will be until the day,

I leave this mortal toil.

And ascend into light.

"Til then I am here.

Alone.

My Art

Monday, June 14Th, 6:08 P.M.
Mood: Tired, Pleased
Music: Sunrise, by Coldplay

For the past few days I have not been blogging, I have been drawing.
I seem to have found a new occupation of my time, pencil sketching.
Here, see what you think.

This is me...

I refer to him as "the conductor"

That is all for now. Over the next few days I will be posting more of my art, so stay posted...

Pondering the Skull

Friday, June 4Th, 7:17 P.M.
Mood: Much Better, Contemplative
Music: Beautiful Day, by U2


The ancients often contemplated the skull and all of it's meanings. As early as the fourteenth century we see examples of monks collecting skulls and, believing them to be the home of the soul, collected hundreds of them and built them into walls, chandeliers, and even furniture.



The skull is a really fascinating thing to me, as it holds so much significance for so many cultures. It carries not only symbols of death for some cultures, but symbols of victory, rebirth, or the ascension into the afterlife.

The skull is a symbol of death, and as prince hamlet so eloquently put it, "Poor Yorik, alas, I knew him well." But why has it become associated with death? Perhaps it is the first thing that we, as humans see in a skeleton of a poor dead soul. Perhaps we are looking for a face, and seeing the cold dead eye sockets of a skull are put off by their cold and unemotional gaze. Perhaps.

Where am I? A Poem.

Thursday, June 3Rd, 8:52 A.M.
Mood: Poetic, Still Slightly Sick
Music: The Mall and Misery, by The Broken Bells





Where am I? A Poem.
by :The Raven King
******************************************************

Where am I?

Would you happen to know?

I look all about me, through the rain.

Through the driving snow.

Through the crowds of people that come and go.

Never looking up from the cobblestone streets as they hurry
to the various appointments that their meager lives demand.

Why do they hurry so?

Why do they toil?

Don't they know that she is dead?

That I am alone?

That is why I ask, my friend.

Where am I?

For I seem to have lost myself, along with my way.

Please, don't forget yourself.

This is the only advice I can give you, oh fellow traveler.

For the road that this life has become is full of twists and turns,

of embankments, thieves, and chasms.

So go, go carefully.

And never forget to dream.
**********************************************************

Thoughts on Music, Specifically Coldplay

Thursday, May 6Th, 10:07 A.M.
Mood: Thoughtful, Musical
Music: Misguided Ghost, by Paramore





I find Coldplay's music to be extremely deep and poetic. Their enchanting melodies and gloomy yet uplifting lyrics can raise my spirits, no matter how saddening any given day may be
(To listen to "Clocks", one of their more famous works, please open this link in a new window.)

My personal favorite of their collection is "Parachutes." It seems to best encompass their style, as well as their more dark and elegant songs.

(To Listen to "Shiver" ,one of my favorite tracks on this album, please open this link in a new window.)

Coldplay has a wonderful way of expressing the darker side of emotion while simultaneously bringing it into the light.

Listening to them always brings me a sense of hope and despair, sort of a mixed feeling of hope and hopelessness. It is a good feeling, sad, yet optimistic.


In my personal opinion the encompass the whole of good music, their gloom, light, lyrics, melodies, and all around talent continue to bring hope to those who appreciate good music.

Long may they live, and long may they play.

Mechanical Gloom - A Poem

Wednesday, May 5Th, 9 :52 A.M.
Mood: Gloomy, Poetic
Music: Postcards from Far Away, by Coldplay





(Please Listen to the Included Music Below While Reading this Poem.)





Mechanical Gloom, A Poem
************************

A dark sky.
A spoken word.

The smoke pouring from the mighty stacks,
above the foggy cobblestone street below.

People shuffling too and fro.
Nowhere to come.
Nowhere to go.

The gears still turn.
The steam still pours.

The machines cannot feel.

They will continue to turn until the end of time.

Until the stars fall, the earth cracks, and the seas boil.

Even then, when all is dark and cold.

When all is dead,
and all is gone.

They will continue.

To what end I cannot say.

They are still there. You can see them if you wish.

They still work, they still toil and exhale their black smog as if sighing.

Though cracked and covered in rust and soil.

They work on.

They are all that is left.

Can a machine feel?

Can it love?

Can it hurt?

...
...
...


Can it die?


Or will it sit forever, in it's own mechanical gloom.


(This post originally contained a sound byte, please open another tab and click here to listen to it.)

Here There Be Dragons

Tuesday, April 27, 10 :27 A.M.
Mood: Focused
Music: Seven Nation Army, by The White Stripes

Truly one can say that there is not a more pure symbol of power and magic than the dragon. Dragons have been revered for centuries as guardians and protectors in eastern culture, whereas western dragons tend to be viewed as evil creatures.

The existence of dragons remains questionable, however with the evidence provided by archeology we have discovered that nearly every culture had a dragon like god or symbol. All of these examples carry similar structures and themes, which leads one to wonder about the existence of these mysterious creatures.

Even today, there have been many sightings in lakes around the world of beings that could be described as dragons, or at least "dracopormorphic" animals.

Many locations around the world are traditional held by the people who live there as the home of dragons. For instance, the Reuss River, in Switzerland (pictured here) is held to be the home of "a massive sky serpent" that flew from a nearby lake into the upper part of the river in the early 16th century.

Loch Ness, the most famous site of dragon sitings in the world had it's earliest recorded siting in the 15th century. So these mystical beings have either reproduced by now or have incredibly long life spans, as we are taught by tales of dragons that have been passed on.

I often wonder if they do exist. Perhaps increasing pressure from human expansion and construction has forced them from their natural habitats and this can account for the increased number of sightings in recent years.


One can hope that these beautiful and mysterious creatures can continue living in a changing world as a last hope, a last glimmer of magic in a dimming time.

Thoughts on Runes

Monday, April 26, 10:28 A.M.
Mood: Magical
Music: Trouble, by Coldplay

I really like runic. Not only is it an ancient Scandinavian form of writing, but it is also incredibly beautiful in its form and design.

The ancients believed that they where not only a means of communication, but a method of channeling magic and creating a connection with nature and the elements. Even today, many believe them to contain magical properties.

As a project last summer, myself and a group of friends decided to learn to write fluently in runic. We succeeded, and even today we use runic instead of English when writing to one another.

I have also engraved some stones with runes, as a project. They turned out nicely and I was pleased with them. I then read about how the viking burned runes into wood, mostly fruit wood, because they believed through making a mark on something so natural, they could communicate with nature. They are also used as a form of writing by the elves, called Quenya, in Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. (Readers, Help! I have been unable to find a Quenya to English Translator! If you find one, please post a comment about it. Thanks!)

I really like runes, and the fact that they are still around from ancient times is an incredible gift to not only learn about the language and culture of these people, but also about their way of life and their beliefs.

Sad and Lonely I now Sit

Thursday, April 22, 10:24
Mood : Wistful
Music: Northern Skies, by Dido






*************
Sad and Weary I now Sit.
A Poem.
***********************




Sad and weary I now sit
a credit to my end.
For she is dead and gone away.
her eyes, nevermore shall lift,
to heavens high or earth below
the ground in it's embrace, covers all and hides in dark,
her gentle, smiling face.

Tis Gone.

Tis Dead.

All over shall it be.

And tears roll down my stony face,
into an endless sea
that churns, and breaks, and cries, as if bemoaning me.

And for all a credit to my life,
Death and I go hand in hand.

Into Eternity.

And now I leave alone, alas,

that silent, cold deep sea.