XF Writing Challenge Season 3

After a 3 year break…I was finally able to bring something together for season 3. Oh my.

We’ll throw hell money at strange issei, nesei men, at corpses;
                    Spy on their D.P.O. hoping some oshiya’s mail will unveil wondrous tragedies
                                       Pusher of the dead hearing 731 voices,
                                       Ryokaku seiri gakari and all those deformed bodies.
                        They are nameless on the list of riddles in the crypt,
                                                                              Teso dos bichos em sua oubliette.
                                   And what did they do?
They hunted me, they haunted you, ravaged our minds to a grotesque hue,
                 Until trust gets bent from unexpected places
                                                                                     … as “Jose Chung’s from Outer Spaceis.
But I’ve been aboard the Piper Maru,
                                             The quest for perfection a quagmire of eroded truths.
                                  And what do I do?
         I fight the fight, like you told me to,
                      A mere pawn in this War of the Coprophages
                                                                                             …men with shadowed, savage tastes.
       Secrets have a price not known,
                                           Searching for answers yields Clyde Bruckman’s final repose.
                                And what do you do?
You’ve been wetwired to scrutinize, investigate,
                                To view science as the blessing way
                                                                                      …the walk of martyrs you can’t disgrace.
Still, revelations come in the dark of the night,
                        Apocrypha avatar of light singing, “Talitha cumi,” as if it has all the answers.
                                                  Maybe it does.
                                                  Maybe it’s 2shy to prove its might.
Rise, little girl, take up those gloves,
                          You and me, syzygy, it’s what “team” is made of.

XF Writing Challenge Season 2

Continuing with the “use every title of the season” challenge with X-Files…This one has been my favorite (also from 2012).

Episode titles are underlined.


Maybe someone should pray for me today –

Gather up your blessed be’s, amen, excelsius dei

For I might fall apart some sleepless night.

I can’t stop myself –

Floating like a Calusari looking for my aubrey.

 Firewalker on a mission,

           Død Kalm

Counting, “3, 2, 1…”

                         Irresistible ascension

To the sun, any star, or a colony of dust somewhere in space

Where little green men still manage to maintain that fearful symmetry

That frightening mystique

In the dark, in the sands –

In the red, red land of some forgotten Anasazi

                             Humbug chased unto extinction.


Oh, what have I become?

My own f. emasculata, hurting whomever I must save.

Blood, blood, blood

On the stairs, in every parking garage;

Blood, blood, blood

On my hands, it’ll never wash off.

A twisted mind plays host to some red museum contrition,

Full of fresh bones in the soft light

Listen to the souls cry, “This is our town!”

Maybe they’re right.

So you back away,

Count, “1, 2, 3…”

Snap a chord and I’m Duane Barry

In one moment,  one breath, first take:

The devil gets to play

   Die hand die verletzt and it’s end game.

XF Writing Challenge

In 2012, I started a writing challenge for myself: write a poem for each season of the X-Files using each of the episode titles of that season. Why? Because…I love X-Files and I love writing.

This was the first one (and the easiest!) – episode titles are underlined.


I found you in your corner

                        On a cloudy eve of spring

         Half-forgotten, scorned, bemused –

                   Determined not to be deceived.

You started with your crazy,

               Swinging in your chair;

   I caught my thoughts, belated

                And wondered what I was doing there.

Watch my hero campaign down the hall

         Roland in a suit and tie assumed as armor

                                              – Tall and strong;

My pilot through the monsters,

                      The lies,

                                     The E.B.E.’s.

       So set a course for your Aude,

                  To the space left to eternity;

                           Squeeze through time,

                 Beyond the sea,

                                      Beyond the stars

As they burst apart – a wondrous scene!

                                    But, oh, what it leaves…

Born again in the wake of your shattering shadows

                            Lazarus springing out,

                             Up from the flowers into disdain

                                    And these cold, dreary showers.

How did you become my signal –

                My cue to smile,

                      To love,

                                         To fight?

               With those ravaged wings,

                     The arrogance

             Icarus-bound as your pride ignites!

It feels like we’ve stood here before

                    Ice on the ledge, sky on fire,

            Looking into the void through two shafts of light.

                      Sweet fallen angel,

                             Bruised and used,

                Savage as the Jersey devil

                        You call to the thunder,

                 Cursing the night


                                              Deep throat,

       As the darkness falls,

                      As it tooms the heavens,

                                            Abandons your sight.

You drop to your knees

             Full of contempt and scorn,

    Yet you can’t turn away –

                       I suggest going home.

Pilot me beyond these monsters,

                  Beyond the stars,

                                Any semblance of life;

                 The busted dreams

           And all the shady shapes they leave.

No one ever told me, no one ever said

                  The whispered ghost in the machine is a miracle man

                               A conduit of conspiracies.

         Dusty streamers rippling,

                                     Exploding in your eyes

                      That plutonic mask revealing a past

                             Young at heart – and how it glows!

      Basking in the misting gold,

                    I collect the fragments of you in my Erlenmeyer flask


                          Fates sew you to this genderbendered soul

      Through the universe’s glory

                                       And all histories retold.