Thursday, December 5, 2013

Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela – Madiba

Good night, dear, wise, Tata
Rest now and watch us from on high 
Finally, your long walk is ended
Your legacy will not pass into the night

As you led your people out of evil
As you showed the world nobility
So shall we take up your banner
So shall we forge a new reality

Thank you brother Madiba
We now tread forward in your stead
As our foot steps cause the ground to tremble
They will all know you are far from dead

The voice of dissent is not silenced
The fight for freedom not ended
Thus shall we walk the long road to freedom
Thus shall we labor until the damage is mended

We've rested long enough
Still so much left to do
Our voices join yours in heaven
Amandla! Awethu!  Amandla! Awethu!

I will celebrate the life of Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela.  His voice inspired me as a child and his legacy remains an intricate part of my being.  To call him a hero is inadequate.  Any words I have will fail.  I will continue to fight for freedom though my meager efforts are laughable.  In some small way, maybe as part of a larger voice, I can play my part.  Thank you brother for your life and your inspiration.    

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Hi, My Name is Roger

Hi, my name is Roger
I 'm much more than what you see
These withered hands, and broken form
Not who I used to be

As little boy I dreamed of space
And knights on brilliant steeds
I knew that I would change the world
With all my noble deeds

As young man, fought to reconcile
The unjust pain I saw
With all the things my parents said
About a loving God

I tried to be a soldier once
But couldn't understand
How force of arms could ever bring
Freedom to every man

I married twice and failed them both
Perhaps we failed each other
It was hard for me, the balancing
Of husband, friend and lover

I always strove through out my life
To speak for what was right
Champion the cause of liberty
To which I cling with all my might

I wrote some prose, a vanity
I hope they will endure
A testament to who I was
Before my thoughts obscured

You did not know the man I was
But, we were once the same
The joy of life once pulsed in me
And passion filled my veins

I lay here now and this one thing
I ask of you young friend
Treat me kindly; as you yourself
Will someday reach your end

I know I may appear to be
A burden in your eyes
But understand trapped in this frame
That little boy resides

I dedicate this poem to my mother Margy Clark who has been bedridden and in a convalescent home for nearly a year.  My sister and I have gone to her side nearly everyday.  Although we know we cannot care for her needs ourselves, we recognize our responsibility to the woman who gave us life.  I have gotten to know a number of the residents at the home and I am saddened by how infrequently their families visit.  I am also shocked by how they are treated at times.  Thanks be to God, my mother's home is a good one.  She has good food, and lives in a clean facility.  But, I know that this is far from true for so many others.  Men and women who built this country and the world often lay in horrid conditions, forgotten and alone.  I wrote this piece to remind everyone that we will all succumb to the great equalizer at some point in our lives.  May you all be treated with the love, regard, and care that you provide your elders today.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

The Rose and the Flame

Sit comfortably
In a quiet room, alone
Enjoy the silence

Breathe in through your nose
Exhale slowly from your mouth
Slow, steady, rhythm

Picture a rose bud
Hold the flower in your mind
Push out distractions

See the soft petals
Focus on every detail
Cells pulsing with life

Simple true beauty
Dew drop caressed perfection
Full of energy

Envision a flame
Light, warmth, and vital essence
Touching everything

Powerful nature
Creation, destruction, strength
Boundless potential

Watch it dance and sway
Chasing away the darkness
The aura of hope

Joining images
Place the flame below the rose
See the flower blooms

Tender sails unfurl
Sweet aroma rises forth
Forms crystalline sphere

Imagine yourself
Entering the chrysalis
Feel the warmth

Seek out areas
In yourself that cause you pain
Visualize them

Gather them, form them
Becoming Spirit Steel bars
Re-enforce your sphere

Feel yourself growing
The chrysalis molds to you
Rose flame fuels your heart

Breathe in slow and deep
Let cool life water rain down
Drink, wash away care

Emerge clean and new
Armored in experience
Strong in conviction

Meditation is an opportunity to slow down and breathe.  The practice of meditative exercises and breathing techniques is found in one form or another in every culture.  I wanted to mimic the 5 - 7 - 5 meter of Haiku.  I hope you find healing and renewal as you envision these images and seek center.  Namaste.  Peace be with you and with your spirit.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

The Truth

There are no walls for the soul
There is no cage for the heart
When you’re searching for your freedom
Knowing this is the crucial part

You can overcome any trial
Use your mind’s eye to see
Set your spirit forward in motion
Then claim your victory

Focus every desire of your heart
Through daily meditation
Manifest your destiny
Practice positive confession

Hone in on an action plan
Inscribe it in your being
Remind yourself everyday
There is no limit, no upper ceiling

Your hands are there to shape and mold
The things that caused you pain
Become your weapons and armor
Forged and formed by flame

Only you can make this change
The power of your spirit
Allow yourself to realize
The truth now that you hear it

This is truth.  No matter what you have been led to believe.  No matter what fools have tried to convince you of, nor what you allowed yourself to believe, you are the author of your story.  The armies arrayed against you are made of paper and you hold the flame to burn them down.  Rise up be the person you want to be.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

The Butterfly Effect

In the space of my mind's eye
It's clear and well defined
The moment locked in history
When you, almost, were mine

Awkward and uncomfortable
Expressions I could not find
A stutter step cost me, I know 
Your love for all of time

Sometimes alone, I close my eyes
Envisioning that night
To travel back imagining
And try to make things right

If I could use my words and deeds
Why surely, then you'd see
The love I know that we still share
Would finally set us free

Some call the Universe limitless
With parallel possibilities
I'd like to think in one of them
We're together happily

I do accept the way we are
I see life rationally
Somehow the way things are today
Is how it's meant to be

Just know that thoughts of you remain
Among my precious things
My love, these dreams I now release
Take flight on butterfly's wings

I think we all have a lover in our past that haunts our dreams.  The one who didn't work out.  "The one that got away."  It's healthy and natural to reminisce and wonder what could have been.  In the end though, growth comes through acknowledgement and moving forward.  You never know where life will take you but, you can't remain stagnant if you want to find out.

Friday, September 27, 2013


My thoughts are so disjointed
How could you take your life?
I'm angry, frustrated and disappointed 
Look at all this damage, hurt and strife

Brother, I am sorry you were in so much pain
I feel guilty that you felt you couldn't call
Knowing that I won't speak to you again
Is the most painful thing of all

No fucking answers just questions now
We were the same Goddamn age
Wondering if we failed you and how
Feeling emptiness and rage

These fatal steps can't be retraced
Why Steve? Man, why?
What was the problem that you faced
That made you want to die?

I guess there's no point asking
There's not much left that we can do
Console each other's mourning
Just know this bro; we miss you.

I got the call last night from Steve's brother and one of my best friends, Larry.  I am still in shock these words are anemic at best.  This is how I deal with loss.  I don't know or care if my prose are any good.  I just needed to do something with all this angry energy.  My condolences go out to Steve's family.

Monday, September 16, 2013

I'm Already Here

The Late, Great, Perkin's Palace

This weekend I went to a Heavy Metal show to see Anthrax, Megadeth, and Iron Maiden.  There's an old saying in English "You can never go home again."  This show gave me great pause to consider this adage.  The bands sounded great, and they proved to be truly top notch entertainers but, something was very different.  We are all obviously older but that wasn't it.  As I tried to figure out what I was feeling, it came to me.  I am different.

Years ago I did the "club thing".  I would go to the Troubadour,  The Roxy, Gazzari's, Perkin's Palace, name a dive where the music was live and loud; I would be there.  I even worked as a roadie for bands that would later become enduring parts of the Heavy Metal scene.  In those days sex, drugs, and rock and roll wasn't a catch phrase, it was reality.  I lived life hard and fast and told myself I was having fun.  Then one day I woke up and it was all over.  

Most former addicts or "recovering addicts" will be able to tell you exactly what happened to make them quit or what the "turning point" in their life was.  It was different for me.  I never felt comfortable in my role as a Hesher/ Stoner.  Some might say I was a "Poser", a title that would have infuriated me at the time, but I think I am good with it now.  Whatever the case may be, I awoke from my Rock and Roll coma and decided to take a different path.

I am not going to try and tell the whole story at this point but, today I work closely with Law Enforcement and my life is in a very different place.  Maybe not so oddly, I romanticized the "Heavy Metal 80's" in my own head.  My memories were of a time when the battle cry was "Die Young!" and I was poisoning myself just to the brink of making it come true.  I'm glad I didn't; I still lament the loss of friends who did not make the switch in time.

As I said earlier, the show this weekend was great and a great "eye opener".  I am not the confused kid I was then.  Beyond that, I no longer feel the need to be that kid anymore.  The music and the videos from the 80's will always be enshrined in my heart and I would not change those memories for any others.  That said, I am happier and more at peace with my life than ever before.  Nothing is perfect but it can be good, even great if you choose to let it be.  

This is not a story of "Paradise Lost", it is the story of satisfaction realized.  I will not lament the passing of yesterday's youth.  Rather, I will celebrate my today and the wisdom of time.  I will allow the temples and shrines of my past to stand.  I will walk in the gardens of my memories but, I will never again live there.  The best days of my life are ahead of me, not behind.  If someone says to me "You can never go home again" I will smile and know in my heart, I'm already here.

Roger H. P. Clark

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Someday You Will Remember

You hide yourself dear
Someday you will remember
I always see you

I know your true heart
This much I know is certain
Love resides in you

Fighting for control
Someday you will remember
You were always free

Running Far Away
Escape is just illusion
Face your deepest fears

Go now if you must
Someday you will remember
My heart will follow

Spring time through Winter
The seasons of man are short
Time forgives little

One thing will endure 
Someday you will remember 
adore you  Still

I have been experimenting with an English interpretation of  Japanese Haiku.  I have a deep respect for Japanese culture.  I admire the simplicity, strength and beauty it embodies.  Haiku is one verse with three lines.   Five sounds (In English we adapt this as syllables)  in the first line, seven in the second, and five again, in the final line.  I wanted to emulate the style but as I do not speak or write Japanese.  I thought to add my own flavor to its beauty.  I have written seven Haiku that I believe stand alone and yet share a common theme.  I hope I have done honor to the tradition and the spirit of the style. (RM)

Monday, September 9, 2013

Getting It Right

So many time in my life
I would cling too tight
To ideas, places and people
Holding on with all my might

Soon those things would tear away
Rending bits of soul and heart
Crushing those things that I loved
Until they fell apart

For a time I was misguided
Patron Saint of the rejected
Blinded by my selfishness 
Sitting brokenhearted and dejected

A subtle change emerged in me
A better new perspective
People sometimes have to leave
So love may return perfected

Everyone needs space to grow
Some room to breath and thrive
Being strong enough to let them go
Can keep love's spark alive

It's possible the road may turn
That they could walk away
Wiser, recognize their freedom
Than to try and make them stay

It seems I've finally grown up 
Don't feel the need to fight
The things in life I cannot change
This time I've got it right

Letting go always seemed scary.  Irrational fears of being alone, insecurity, all gone.  I stand a better man.  Life: "You scared bro.?"  Me: "Nah, I ain't even scared." (RM)

Saturday, August 31, 2013

The Change

When the law is seen protecting only some
If the blessing of liberty is denied to anyone
While my color or gender dictates the fields where I may run
A change has got to come, A change has got to come.

When in bounty's bosom children hunger when they sleep
If our defenders don't believe in laws they keep
While the wealthy rise only to make the masses weep
A change is bound to come, A change is bound to come

When a generation struggles to find identity
If we all grow tired of avarice and enmity
While we still can find the strength to save democracy
A change will surely come, A change will surely come

When I call you brother, sister, family and friend
If I vow to change my heart to finally feel again
While my voice can lift a song of hope and love's refrain
I'll know the change has finally come, Dear Lord that change has finally come

The past few years have been radical for me.  I have adopted personal change that has set me free spiritually.  I have gone from being a victim of my circumstance to being a victor and the author of my own story.  The reshaping of this world beings with one person changing and with each subsequent change we move closer to paradise regained.

"Be the change that you wish to see in the world." ~ Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Three Sisters

Three Sisters-young girls at the shore painting by artist Kay Crain 
(used temporarily and without permission)

Three sisters, all on different shores
Separated and yet, bound by a common history
At times demon pursued and always God blessed
Even their own families could not believe the stories

Miner's daughters
Loving mothers and wives
Angels of mercy and terrible vengeance
Sisters, mothers and aunts who've shared so much of their lives
Three sisters, suffered and toiled
Robbed of health by a common vice
Suffering children and spouses that never understood
The span of those lives, the burden, and the price

Their unfailing devotion
Their indomitable spirits
Voices that could make you smile or weep
Call you down low or raise you up, extol your merits

Three sisters, passed through shadow
Forged by the fires of violence and revolution
Cooled by internal, eternal waters of life
Honed like razors for their family's protection

Stalwart guardians and teachers
Never given your full credit due
Your children are here now
Finally understanding, we appreciate you

Three sisters, one now gone home
Two sisters, separated but not alone
One sister my oath to defend
Three sisters loved by children now grown

This poem is dedicated to my Aunts Barbara, Goiky, and my mother Margy.  Three sisters who have given all and have raised families that love them.  Aunt Barb, I know you are interceding for us, smiling down from heaven.  We miss you and await the day when we are all reunited as a family in a reunion that will shake the heavens.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Hon Seusi se haiku - 혼 초밥​​ 세 하이쿠 - Three Haiku for Hon Sushi

Good friends sit around
Sashimi and Nigiri
Laughter fills the room

The Taste of Salmon,
Creamy Nigorizake,
Friday's Salvation

Last call for sake
Tonight has been wonderful

Hon Sushi is owned by "My brother from another mother" Chris.  He and his family serve great food and the place is always packed on the weekends.  If you are ever in Morovia, CA you have to give them a try.  By the way I'm not being paid to endorse them.  Just practicing with Haiku and this place always inspires a smile.  

Hon Sushi - 144 W Foothill Blvd, Monrovia, California 91016

Thursday, August 8, 2013

If God Should Lose Faith In Me

A passing thought occurred to me
When hearing someone say
That they had lost their faith in God
How it got in their way

I asked myself how life would be
If God lost faith in me?
Would the blessings I perceive
Just simply cease to be?

If she lost her faith in me 
Would that mercy fade away?
And in my darkest hours 
Could I find the light of day?

If the Cosmic Hosts denied my name
Ignored my very being
Should I then cease to exist
My life lose all its meaning?

I believe in my eternal soul
However it came to be
I believe that there is God somehow
Whether they or he or she

In life we may not see or measure
Everything around
The Cosmos filled with mysteries
That for a time confound

We think we know things solidly
And then perceptions change
The truths we once were so sure of
Transform and rearrange

It must be hard for even God
To lose the faith of men
When circumstances shake their lives
To win it once again

God, however you exist
You know I still believe
I only ask that when I fail
Please don't lose faith in me

Life has been a test and affirmation of faith countless times.    I do not suppose to have the answers; I try to ask the right questions.  I try to emulate Christ in the way I love.  I seek peace and enlightenment.  I respect the teachings of all faiths and seek how those pieces fit together in the human puzzle.  I do not believe in God the way many people do, but I do believe.  

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Different Yet The Same

In retrospect
I sit and review
The faces that 
I've shown to you

The angry boy
I used to be
Replaced by man

The anger swells
Inside me still
Like tempest storms
That test my will

As time has passed
I chose to learn
That different fires
Inside us burn

Spirit, energy, intellect
Resolve, positivism, and vision
Replace the hopelessness and rage
That once held those positions

I seek to ride positive streams
Engage my inner light
At times the world around me seeks
To goad me back to fight

Perhaps a balance still I need
Between the flesh and soul
Acknowledge frail humanity
And evolution of the soul

Not every battle can be won
With prayer or good intention
At times the warrior must rise
And enter to contention

I know that I desire to lead
With harmony and peace
And slow to rile the baser side
Unleashing primal beast

So warrior and poet
Both exist inside this frame
Each support the way I feel
So different yet, the same

I'm still seeking.  I'm still growing; everyday a little stronger than the one before.

Friday, July 19, 2013

Sanford Come Golgotha

Just another Jew?
Just another Nigger?
Just another innocent
A kid going home to get his dinner

You denied him thrice; before the cock crowed
You hid behind excuses for murder, playing Sadducees and Pharisees
You justify a homicide and now your true self showed
Afraid of a fucking kid no, you should be afraid of me.

Angry, riotous
Indignant , incensed
Resolved, righteous
Prayerful, fasting, mournful and intense

Just another casualty
Pinned on society's cross
Just a bag of silver
The heart and soul of a system lost

It really doesn't matter
What the verdict reads
Your hands and face smeared and blood spattered
We see the crown, don't we?

Sanford come Golgotha the innocent pays the price
Now cowards, hear the sound, boots on the ground.
We bring  injustice to light
Past time for us all to Stand Our Ground

Dear friends, I used language in this work I do not normally use nor condone.  I apologize to anyone offended.  I tried to give voice to my anger and disbelief.  I wanted to report honestly what I see, the only way I know how.  

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

It's All About Your Attitude

It's all about your attitude
You have to live your joy
The days will come that test resolve
How you weather them is up to you

This is neither condescension nor platitude
Embrace each day as a child with a beloved toy
Do not let your determination dissolve
Awaken every morn and see it bright, alive and new

Charge your love battery with gratitude
Share it with others; the secret is yours to employ
Let your soul and your mind evolve
Let you soul's light shine straight through

See the blessings come in multitude
Live life and you'll begin to enjoy
See all good things around you revolve
Now awakened realizing that all your dreams have come true

On Bigotry and Moving Forward

I am a person of Germanic blood, born in Latin America and raised in an Afro-Cuban household.  I have traveled extensively domestically and abroad.  These factors have afforded me a rather unique perspective on the issue of race and the dynamic surrounding it.  I am not implying nor stating that my perspective is any more important or valid that that of other people.  I submit my viewpoint and you can draw your own conclusions.

Miriam Webster defines A Bigot as:  a person who is obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and prejudices; especially: one who regards or treats the members of a group (as a racial or ethnic group) with hatred and intolerance.  Racism is defined as: 1 : a belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capacities and that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race  2 : racial prejudice or discrimination.  I bring up those definitions because I think it is necessary to define terms when trying to identify and or resolve a problem.

I am of the personal opinion that Bigotry is one of the most base and common practices on earth.  Most people do not in fact, even recognize Bigotry as they engage in it.  It is a part of every culture to some extent or another.  I have also seen that it is a learned behavior.  Some would call it a defense mechanism left over from a time of territorial disputes over basic resources like land, food, and water. 
A certain degree of Bigotry is accepted and seemingly encouraged by most societies. 

Bigotry is the basis for racial “humor”, stereotypes and attitudes that we see on T. V. and movies.  It is however, the seed that allows Racism to sprout, grow and thrive in a culture.  I have even seen Bigotry turn on itself and become self-loathing.  This creates “collaborators” and “corroborators”.  People that either go out of their way to prove the negative stereotypes or distance themselves from the group and say “I’m not like them; they are…”

Regardless of its origins, we should address the fact that Bigotry is a learned behavior, not a natural one.  The problem is its institutional acceptance and it existence on a global scale.  If the tide of Racism is ever to be stemmed we have to educate it out of existence.  Sweeping programs, mandates, and regulations have masked the symptoms but in the end, only education and developing new habits will ever reverse this social disease.

There must be a spiritual transformation of the individual.  We must learn how to see ourselves honestly and take ownership of our lives.  We have to come to peace with our past; forgive those who have harmed us, offer amends to those we have harmed and give thanks for the tests that have shaped us into the people we are.  We must acknowledge the commonalities shared by all people.  We have to treat each other with respect and dignity.  Most of all we have to learn to be grateful, truly grateful, for the gift of life and all of this experience.

The law must also evolve.  The institutions of governance must follow the same course as their constituency.  The United States Constitution is a beautiful poetic document but, it is long past time that it become more than poetry.  Its high minded ideals and promises must give way to social and spiritual rebirth and reform. 

All of these things require work.  But with hard work comes great satisfaction.  We can build a different nation.  We can build a better world; we owe it to ourselves and our children.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Ask Yourself

What is it about your beliefs 
That make you think you have the right or the responsibility to tell others how to live?  
Have you been given a mandate to ignore your own short comings 
In order to point someone else’s out?  

Have you been told that your actions are so beyond reproach
That you have the right to convict, condemn or penalize another?  
You claim to worship the same God I do 
Yet your understanding of his golden rule is vastly different than my own.  

I say you have been listening to gossips and liars.  
I say you have allowed someone to pervert the gospel of love and forgiveness
Turning it into one of judgment and hatred.  
I say you need to repent and rediscover the love of the Christ in your heart.  

The time is short; if we do not find love,
we will surely loose our lives.

Saturday, March 16, 2013


Life such an unkind blessing at times
Tortured by demons pursued by curses
Given children who did not understand
Sacrifices punctuated by blasphemies and unuttered verses

A voice that longed to sing
Silenced by shame and fear
A soul that longs to soar
Fettered by those who will not even shed a tear

Mother I forgive all
Mamma I ask forgiveness in return
Dear God, what would I be
Without the lessons, from you, I've learned

I will champion your freedom
Where I failed you before
If I showed disrespect
I will err no more

Your bravery, valor, never again in question
Your music running through my veins
Your imagination, your joy, will live
Your family will not fail you again

Life, was not wasted
Lessons, great teacher, have been learned
Liberation, brave soul, you shall find
Love, dear mother, has been earned

The ghouls will not have you
To poke and prod  nor dissect you as you languish
For once mom, I will not fail
I will allow you to see the finish

Heaven will open unto you
If such a place exist for anyone
If there is justice, honor, or strength in me
So help me, I will do my duty as your son

Tomorrow mother, your children will come
In your defense, we will fight
Give you peace and dignity
Those things you earned by right

Mamma, I love you
The tears I cry, are tears of shame
For every time, no matter why
I ever cursed your name

I know the value
Of you above all others
She who gave me life
My dear sweet loving Mother

Margy Clark Born to miners, lived as a teacher and nurse care giver, fighting for her children who'll never forget.  Sacrificing for babes that have grown fierce.  Mother, teacher, nurse, friend, human, sweet spirit who deserves peace.  Gladys and I will fight for you mom.  So help me God.

Saturday, March 9, 2013

And Still

At the first glance
I was done, I knew
I had no chance
It has always been you

Battered dreams
Feeble hopes, false starts
Advances, retreats, all tearing at the seams
Alone, a glass, a hotel room and Makers Mark

Stranded in paradise
Etta swings and I sing mournful and out of key 
Salted water hiding in my eye
What would you think, if you could see

Night and day, baby it's you
No matter who I'm with 
Regardless of what I do
Memories passing through bring me bliss

Pour another plastic cup
In my solitude, Billie surely knew
Perhaps, I should just give up
Hold no dream to get me through

Damn the thoughts that keep me sparkin'
Cursed hunger yearning to taste those lips
Purgatory, torturous hell, lovely voice to which I hearken
Longing for pleasures between those hips

O' divine vision, obsession, since first impression
Sate me, release me, kill me a thousand times
Lift me from this fool's deception
Release me Lord from passion's crimes

But prisoner I will ever be
A sweet and bitter pill
Forever locked and chained by she
Love's prisoner, laying here, quiet, and still

Roger H. P. Clark
The Necromata

Friday, March 1, 2013

On the Death of Noble Rat

Some would say you were only a rat
Vermin, source of disease and destroyer of property
I was content to let you live because you offered no insult
You committed no crimes against me

I denied you your sources of food
I hoped you would just leave
But you were cunning and still you thrived
I admired you and your perseverance

You began to destroy wires and chew through things
Much as I might, if left to starve
You fought to live
You fought to survive

In my anger, I set plan in motion
I would be avenged for having to repair that which you had broken
I laid trap, and bait and I would wait
And in my snare you would fall

My "genius" bore fruit
You did succumb
And as you lay helpless
My hammer fell ending your spark

I name myself villain
My new name fiend
But how to make recompense
How to cleanse my sin

I will honor you, adversary
I will fast and pray
That your small soul will find home
That your journey will begin anew

As for me there is no pride
I will not be hypocrite adding to my crime
I will simply say this chapter is done
And move on and hope to do better than before

I name you Noble Rat

Friday, February 22, 2013

No Apologies

I will not apologize for my success
"Mea culpa maxima" will not  be my song
 Nor will I blame you for my failure
I'll accept it free of guilt, unless I have done you wrong

I will not rend my skin
For the blessings in my arms
Nor wear sack cloth nor ash
Unless they come somehow from harm

I will enjoy the fruits of my labor
Knowing that I will pass along much
And hope you wish me well
The result of reaping such

I will not curse the gifts of God Almighty
So that you might find me humble
I will make a joyful noise unto the world
So that others might not stumble

I will not curse my fortune
Nor hide from light of day
I will not build the darkness
But, help you light your way

If I should fail to give praise
what more then would I be
A thief, charlatan and liar
Like scribes and Pharisees
If I should lack in happiness
Well what then do I offer
Another cursed penny
Inside the devil's  coffers

I will seek to deliver joy
So you see that it is real
And not be lost in blasphemies
Of bogus cause and zeal

I shall proclaim good news and hope
Offer succor when it's needed
So that the work of the light is done
And cannot be impeded

Roger H. P. Clark
The Necromata

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Radically Insensitive

Image by
I want to be radically insensitive
I do not wish to know you
By the color of your skin
I'll know when your heart's true
And gladly name you kin

Why is pallor so provocative?
Nothing more than chemical coding
Don't you know a soul's a soul?
A faithless heart's far more foreboding
Separation bears the deeper toll

I want to be radically Insensitive
Destroy the angry rhetoric
Judged only by my deeds
Free from rules and etiquette
To meet our people's needs

My color not representative
If I could tear this skin asunder
At times I think I would
Many days I have to wonder
If in fact I should

Roger H. P. Clark
The Necromata

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Congratulations U. S. A.

Congratulations U. S. A. I really think it's great
You've won the right to smoke your weed  in nearly every state
With your shiny new found health care you'll likely get it free
But now they have the numbers of every T and H and C

I hear you all turned in your guns
"It was the civil thing to do"
But now nobody's watching
The ones who're watching you

So sit back in your stupor
Cause you are too high to see
The drones they've launched "protecting you"
Are scouting down the street

They've made you safe from internet
And every form of speech
Your children all are there to learn
The doctrines they teach

You'll soon be safe from everything
They'll soon be in control
Too late when finally realized
You've sold your very soul

So off now, slumber peacefully
By all means, do sleep tight
But tomorrow in the food lines
Don't dare argue push or fight

Sit back and watch your Tele-garbage
In the home you do not own
And never mind who's listening
As you're talking on the phone

You've no more responsibility
Oh joy!  How great!  How grand!
And never mind your neighbor's gone
Because he took a stand

A cowardly new world approaches
Where safety matters most
Stripped of our Democracy
Our voice and dreams and hopes
We'll be well taken care of
Tucked warm inside our beds
Free of pain and misery
With the new chips in our heads

Congratulations U. S. A.
You finally won your weed
That thirty year old bong you hold
Says it was a right you didn't need...

Roger H. P. Clark
The Necromata

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Stanless Steal Defender of Twilight (Origins)

I do not remember my birth parents or anything of my old life.

I was no more than 3 years old when Gunn, the man who I call father, saved me from a shipwreck near the mouth of White River in Skyrim. Gunn and Freyja Steal took me in and raised me as their own child alongside their daughter AEstrid. We lived close to the great city of Windhelm. I was raised to honor all the eight Divines. My father also paid special tribute to a Daedrik Princess, the Lady Nocturnal. Gunn always said that he was led to find me by a vision imparted to him by Nocturnal and that we both owed her a great debt as a result.

I adored Gunn and Freyja. I followed Gunn everywhere, including to his forge, from an early age. Gunn always told me that the metal and fire were alive. He said that they were cousins born of the mountain’s heart and that properly joined the metal would sing with the magic of the gods. I loved working the forge with Gunn. Shaping metal and making it sing I found peace. Gunn’s weapons and armor were renowned. His work could be found in the halls of the King and the lodges of the Thanes. It was said that his skill was indeed a gift from the gods themselves. Gunn had even made a special set of weapons just for me. They were exquisite. He told me that on my 15th name day the set would be mine.

Gunn spent time with me in those days teaching me the way of the dagger and the sword. He said that in order to create a thing you had to understand its essence. Gunn was a very talented fighter. He taught me the way of fighting with sword and shield and those of the Bidenhänder, but he said a warrior was at his best when he could wield a blade in each hand. Gunn would tell me sword play was a a deadly dance between two souls. He emphasized respecting your opponent's ability while making him underestimate your own. I took to these lessons like a bird to flight.

Freyja was a strong Nord woman in every sense. She kept a tidy home, and an impressive garden of the herbs and vegetables that grow in our area. She taught AEstrid and me which herbs would heal and which would cause harm. Freyja was also a shrewd trader. It was rumored that she had been raised by witches as a girl; she always laughed if this was brought up and called the stories nonsense spread by busy-bodies.

AEstrid and I were as close as any two children could be. If there was mischief to be found, AEstrid and I would find it. AEstrid and I played hiding and tracking games. We would test each other’s cunning and perceptions constantly. We were also fond of swiping pies or fruit from the local vendors. We didn’t steal them, mind you; we made a game of snatching the goods and leaving the pay in the trade box or the vendor’s pockets without being seen. In early years, we were in constant trouble for playing these pranks but, the punishment was mild because we would always pay.

The winter of my 12th named day changed everything. The snows had come in a particularly harsh fashion. Gunn and some of the other men were busy seeing to our neighbors and the elderly in the area. AEstrid and I were practicing our lessons by the hearth when an incredible gust of wind smashed the front door open. I knew something was terribly wrong because Freyja screamed in anger and fear for AEstrid and me to get in the cellar. Freyja changed. A glow of power surrounded her and she looked at us with eyes like coal and shouted “NOW” in an unearthly voice. AEstrid and I bolted for the cellar and sealed the door above us.

The cellar became unbelievably quiet.Infact, there was no sound at all. I could not even hear my own breath. Startled, I tried to cry out and found that I could not. I grabbed AEstrid and led her to the darkest corner of the cellar. I placed myself in front of her, as if I could protect her.

I don’t know what happened next, only that I awoke in a bed that was not my own, to the sound of Gunn bellowing with anger. I jumped up and ran to the sound of his voice and found that we were in the home of a neighbor, Tobor Jorgen. I ran to Gunn and hugged him both in relief and fear. He knelt down and hugged me so tight I could feel the breath leave me. Then I began to ask after Freyja and AEstrid. A single tear ran down Gunn's face as he began.

I learned that Freyja had been killed and AEstrid abducted. Tobor blamed someone called the Altmer. Gunn and some other men formed a hunting party to rescue AEstrid. I insisted on going with him. Tobor said I was too young but Gunn said that I had every right to avenge my mother and find my sister. He said sometimes the situation, and not the season, made you a man. I remember a feeling of both pride and rage; pride at being allowed to help and rage because someone had harmed my family.

Gunn, who had never been at a loss for words, became a very solemn, stoic man. He outfitted the party with the best armor and weapons in his shop. I was given leather breeches, a thick leather cuirass and cloak. Gunn made some adjustments with leather cords so I would not look or feel like a rag doll. He then handed me the short sword and dagger that he had promised me for my 15th name day. He told me that no matter what happened to keep my eyes and ears open and heed the lessons he had given me.

We set off several hours before the dawn of the next day. Though most people would never have been able to track anything in these conditions, we are Nord and know this land like our own skin. Our scouts found the Altmer party on the third day. We trailed them at a safe distance and waited for night fall. These Altmer were a strange looking bunch. Thin and tall, they had fair skin and not one of them wore a beard. They looked much like children themselves except they had pointy ears!

The tent where AEstrid was being held was in the very center of the camp. We outnumbered the Altmer by nearly two to one. We snuck up to the outskirts of the camp careful to cut off any routes for escape. Our scouts made short work of the guards. Altmer died in their sleep as their blood froze in the snow. Not an honorable death; it was very fitting for these foul skeevers.

As we approached the center tent we could hear singing. No that isn't right; it was more like chanting. Gunn started to open the tent flap when he was hit with a ball of bluish energy that crackled like lightning. Our men rushed in from all sides and many were quickly dispatched by more lightning, fire, and shards of ice. Nord, Altmer and Daedra now fought and died in the snow; it was chaos. We Nords do not know fear. We began to win through. I ran to Gunn to see if he was still alive.

Gunn was only barely holding on. He looked me hard in the eyes and whispered "Riften... Nightingales..." He gasped. I had lost track of the battle around us but, things had grown eerily quiet. Gunn uttered one last thing before his eyes closed, never to open again. "Fus Ro Dah... I pass my voice and force to you... my son..." I felt an energy pass into me, through me. It resonated to my very bones. 

I turned around in anger. The camp was in shambles Nord and Altmer lay amongst piles of ash.  A lone Altmer stood where the tent had been AEstrid was with her in glowing shackles, tethered and in tow. Behind them was... A shimmering hole in the air. He... No, SHE regarded me disdainfully and started to say something I couldn't make out.

I felt nothing but rage. I would not let this Daedra spawn take my sister away. Suddenly, the rage inside of me found a clear... voice. I looked at the Altmer and as she began glow with power, I shouted out those words given to me by my father... "FUS RO DAH!!!" My voice made the very air and earth tremble. The Altmer opened her eye wide in utter disbelief. The force of my shout flung her through the hole, back and out of sight.

I ran to AEstrid. "I'll free you" I told her. She was just out of my reach. The chain pulled taught. AEstrid was yanked through that hole; she was... Gone. Everyone was gone. I was completely alone.

I thought hard on what had transpired. I burned with anger; with hatred for these, Altmer. None of this made any sense. So many questions and the only clues I had were Riften, Nightingales and this new powerful new weapon. The voice. Fus Ro Dah. I had heard stories of Riften. A prosperous town with a shady history. I would begin my search for answers there.

"And this Bjorn, is how I came to be here, speaking with you. Can you help me?"

"Well, well... That! 'Youngling', is quite a tale... If true... And ya' seem sincere, mind. Then ya'r Da, was a good friend to me and the boys in The Guild. I'll not turn my back on ya'. But, if ya' want to be one of us ya'll have to Earn a spot see... Well, make yase'f to home at one of the empty beds here... We have one rule sprout... Actually, it's more like a saying... 'Never try to pick the pocket of a pro.' Dinner's in an hour. Get settled, get clean, and we'll talk after vittles."

"My thanks Bjorn. I owe you."

"We may settle accounts someday sprout, but for now, just don't make me regret takin' ya' in."

"I won't Bjorn..." " I will get AEstrid back and we will have our revenge, father and mother. I swear it to the Divines!"

Written by Roger H. P. Clark
The Necromata

NOTICE:  This story is my original creation.  The story takes place in the Elder Scrolls Universe as created by Bethesda  Softworks LLC in the game series Elder Scrolls.  I am submitting it for review for the Short Story Contest - Hosted by TESO.  Wish me luck :)