XF Writing Challenge Season 5

Finally another season finished! Season 5…the titles started to remind me of Skinner and his delicate balance between good and bad, protecting his agents and lying to them – fun times!

As usual, episode titles are underlined. Yes, I took a certain artistic liberty with Redux I/II (after consulting with fellow Philes on the matter), and decided that really…they’re both named Redux, the numbers are just there to keep the order straight.



I follow you, and you:

                          My beautiful two unusual suspects caught folie a deux

     How did we get here?

                       I try, I do

                                       To guard and guide, love and reproach

                           – A hapless father to some post-modern Prometheus

                             Stealing fires from the monsters pulling my strings,

Crossing the line I try to maintain.


I play both sides,

                           Navigating a dreaded thread between the red and the black:

                                                                   Of Love and Death,

                                                                   Flush of youth and aging grace

                                                                                 – this Church and State

                           A prehistoric battle trapped in a Christmas carol

                                          Infecting all Life’s travelers,

A bad blood disease – and I’m patient X of the Pine Bluff variant.


All souls are waiting for some sign,

                   For recollected light casting shadows on the wall of the cave,

                                                            Archetypes of the mind’s eye

           So am I –

                         I’ve seen it …when I died:

                                 The world displayed in guts and gore

                                 Savage frailty, full glory – hate ignored

 It was enough mystery for this life.


I try to buck, find a damn detour

                        Knock it off,

                                 The things I’ve done – find me!

                                                             Come back – stop me – redux!

                                                             Find your way home;

                                                 Save you, everyone, myself – redux, please!

Beware my destructive emily con su chinga del cigarro 

Remember who you can trust in the end.


They’ve got me by the kill switch,

                        (I won’t get a second break)

              I’m dealing, fed lies bred in schizogeny

                                      I’m still me

                                                         – it doesn’t even matter what I believe,

                                                                             It matters what I do.

                        So what I do is follow you,  and you – kitsunegari

Until I’m turned…folie a three.

XF Writing Challenge Season 4

All the titles seemed to be leaning toward CSM, so this is kinda from his view. We all know he sees himself as the hero in the story of the saving the planet – if only those pesky agents would understand and join him!

Real Heroes Lie

I was small potatoes,
                     So content – never again!
I pushed persuasion to the max,
               Enthroned with the clout of ancient men
                   Watching so many highs and lows,
                         Celebrated names that smile and go, and here I stand.
I have helped so many lives,
El mundo gira – I have saved it countless times.
Tempus fugit, then goodbye –
                                       Digging Leonard Betts deep, forgive me,
                                                                                    I certainly tried.
Who will be there to write my elegy,
                    To say Kaddish in somber monotone?
“Blessed is His name, whose glorious kingdom is forever”
                                 – Oh, I knew it was a zero sum game,
                                    But this unruhe wears a placid face.
I built a sanguinarium in Gethsemane then stalled for peace with hungry vampires,
                     Praying beyond our captors:
                                                                               urfuʼa ugʼulla usliha v’khappara
                                                                                                        verevaḥ vehatzala*
                      Send my demons crawling home,
                                                 Consumed by the fires of glittering stars.
Fear them,
                    They’ll colonize the chernozem,
Drang nach osten
Drang nach westen,
                                    Das Herrenvolk, in synchrony
Teliko devils displaced to show us all the true master race.
Yet you call me the monster,
                      Disregard my paper heart,
         As if I’m the one that tore that hole in Tunguska!
Terma bed themselves in wisdom while you crucify the sooth –
                    Is there no faith in good intent?
          None of it was lies, believe me,
                   But I can’t share everything with fools,
                              I merely held on to the truth.
Memento mori amici mei, it’s never where you expect –
                  I’m calling from the field where I died,
                  Right here where I tried to get through,
                                                       But you wouldn’t hear it.
Think of these as the musings of a cigarette smoking man
           On his unrequited quest for an heir and a friend,
                                 With a lonely soul begging mercy and amends.
*translation: Healing, redemption, forgiveness, atonement
Relief and salvation (lines from the Kaddish)

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.