January 2002 - Volume 10, Number 1
the ever'questing bard'o
....as seen through my heart and words.
Pedro Sena, Associate Editor
INTRODUCTION
November 2001
I can hardly justify my journey through a game to create
poetry. As I mentioned before, it probably happened because my life is a lonely one,
with only some entertainment to live for. The rest of the time is devoted to dreams of
grandeur through some poetic or artistic venture - I know not of what else to think in
this world. Does it make for good work? I don't know. I can never judge my own work - I
only know how it feels when it comes out, and have no idea at times what it is that comes
out. All I know is that there are some feelings that I pick up which are too strong to be
ignored. These feelings have been, for too long, the only inspiration that has driven me
forward and they happen in all facets of my life.
Where, and when these appear, is beyond me. They just do.
The game of EverQuest has been just such a muse at times. Even though, in this particular
case, it was simply one image that took me far, very far, and caused me to write
something, and then create the last poem for it. I think I have taken this other
inspiration as far as it can go, and the characters the game is creating these days are
only getting uglier ... my analogy for greed and success.
So one looks at one image, and one asks, what is it about
this that just eats one heart's apart? For me, it was accidental, but one particular night
where I may have been specially lucid and hopefull, I looked at Den Ironblend's eyes as
she lay there, and took a snapshot. I have yet to stop writing on that image, and am not
sure what it is that I see within. It isn't a game, and it isn't a vision. It is something
else that I can not describe, and is best described using the game's own word for ever
questing items in the game.
I have named this issue "The EverQuesting Bard'o",
for a couple of reasons. The first word is because the endless nature of that game is no
different than the endless nature of one's own inner journey. In that sense, the game's
designers have done somethign special. It also rings true, in our internal journeys, since
we can see a lot, come up with a lot of words, and rarely do these really get defined or
make a special consensus, or sense, that we can hold on to dearly and live with the rest
of our lives. Generally speaking, these moments and areas, end up being romanticized and
fantasized about, sometimes spoken about, but rarely defined. I can not define this at
all, any better than anyone can define the Bardo, and its depth and meanings, beyond an
alleghorical journey that we will go through sometime in our life that will scare our wits
off ... and perhaps make us a better person. Since my favorite character in that game is a
"Bard", I made a play on the name wording to satisfy my title. My favorite line
in that game, which goes over most players' heads - they are kids, gotta forgive them for
what they know not and do - is that "I'm a Bard, I do NOT roleplay!". And these
poems are my final say on that game, in any form. Whether I play after this, is not
important, with one exception. I will no longer have the "depth" of feeling, and
"love" that I did once, for the game, that caused me to create four issues of
poetry and work. In this sense, the game has died within me, and I can not reclaim its
life.
Pedro Sena, Moshkiae Soulwriter December 2001
PS: A hearty thanks to JM and the Doors for having helped inspire two poems.
They were accidental, and just happened to match my feeling on the day that these things
were written. JM, you're still one of the very best rock poets that has ever been.
Part One, The EverQuesting Bardo
And into a gentle
sweet night
I depart
...
I feel nothing
...
no pain
...
no glory
...
no death
...
I've wondered all this time
what it is we're going to feel
and now here I am
numb
free
no desires
no hopes
no expectations
no memories
...
not even looking around
...
it's all peacefull
quiet
mostly inner quiet
I think
a stillness
I've always known
but never felt
a stillness
I've always known
but never smelled
a stillness
I've always known
but never tasted
a stillness
I've always known
but never met
...
tonight
is it night?
all might have changed
my feelings
day to day
hour to hour
night to night
...
maybe some Bards
out there
might feel someday
a little more than I can
today,
when this secret
becomes more precious
but still,
we won't know
what it can do
where it can take us
...
but I feel now
some song refrain
...
and into my sweet night
pure, gentle
heart felt evening
upon our souls
...
lies something
more than a game
...
a song
written by a Bard
a songster
that has yearned for meaning
with music
nothing but music
played, truly played
with a drum,
with a lute,
with a horn,
with a flute,
...
or
...
in my case,
with a pen
streaming the conscious
vision,
yes, a vision,
that has forever
illuminated my path.
And into a gentle
sweet night
...
I depart
...
into a dream
...
a dead man floating
...
through many lands
...
some with rock
some with plains
some with sand
some with stains
...
of blood
...
sometimes a corpse
...
lying in waiting
for its dream
it's self
...
to be resurrected
into some sort of sight
or some sort of life
it's own realization
...
of a world
left behind
...
not forgotten
...
maybe now it is ignored
...
once called mortal
...
...
I never thought
or dreamt
that in life
or game
...
anyone would leave
a part of themselves
behind
...
isn't it all precious?
Do I not need a totality?
All of which is called
Me?
You?
Us?
...
or is this,
just a game?
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Part Two, The EverQuesting Bard'o
Into the gentle
sweet night, I depart
...
departed so many times before
...
I feel nothing
now
...
can't remember the glory
...
can't remember the pain
...
is this what it is like
to die and never feel
or miss anything.
Wait,
I do see something,
from somewhere
in my mind's eye
...
I see myself running
not sure why
just running
a drum on my left hand
the wind flying through my face
...
I take my helm off
so I can feel the breeze
...
so sweet
...
it always gave me life
and made me well
...
don't know why,
really
...
even now,
as I lay still
...
crossing the slight hills
of Western Karana,
a vast expanse of land
stands out
plenty of trees
...
and as the rain
starts to fall
on this warm summer day
you feel it pour
...
down your forehead
you feel blessed
...
ready
...
for the next experience
for the next quest
for the next level
...
I feel nothing
...
where will you go?
To the Kobolds?
Or the Froglocks?
Or the Drolvargs?
...
your life?
...
does it matter?
there's only one end
...
and it is endless
...
things will continue
as before
as they always have
...
nothing's changed
...
and we have not seen
yet
half the lands in our world
...
vast expanse
of design
...
of imagination
...
there's not enough time
...
ever
...
to see it all
...
to explore our world,
to explore our vision,
to explore our desire,
to explore our heart,
...
so that,
on a beautiful moonlit night
I'll slip
into the gentle
and sweet night
you or I,
will then, depart
...
never knowing it all
never understanding much
never seeing the halls
...
never having felt
...
the other distant lands
that we never crossed
tap'ing a drum in hands
thru lands bitterly frost'd
...
where might and fury live
in the halls of my heart
and imagination
...
into the sweet
gentle night,
I depart
one more time
...
running
running
don't know
where I am going
...
it doesn't matter
...
I see my spirit
and see my lights
surrounding me
telling me
that
...
that it's time
...
for me to go.
Into the sweet gentle night
I depart
...
and bid you all
a hearty farewell
...
as I disappear
in your distance.
Part Three, The Everquesting Bard'o
The Dirge Songe
- As I fell asleep,
in a drunken stupor
I thought
one more time
...
about this Bard.
I always hate that!
We need each other
don't play with each other
we're assholes
to each other
...
not that I want to
...
one more drink
...
my tolerance has changed
and I feel less
care more
and today
cry even more
...
another drink, please
...
and all the world is
...
badly shaped
warped
...
so am I, what the heck
painted, non-existant
effervescent mind
thinking about
another dead bard
...
and all I can think is
...
when the music is over
turn out the lights
...
and so our dear friend has
...
this time not just in a game
where we can ignore each other
...
another drink, please
...
you know, I wonder
what it is like
to turn out the lights.
I've seen the dark,
and it isn't loading,
please wait, anymore.
It's loading
...
something else,
and I can see my body
not my mind
and I can feel
not my skin
and I can smell
not the earth
and I can taste
not my sphere
...
when the music is over
turn out the lights,
and all the songs.
No more Selo's
no more Hymn's
no more Chant's
no more Paslm's
...
just one sound
heard with your ears
down to the ground
...
a peaceful quiet roars
in the alms of the mother earth
hoping to reach
a place in the sun
a place in the heart
yours,
mine,
where,
we break on through
to that other side
...
and then hope
that you can
...
touch me
...
again
...
do it again, please
...
one more drink
...
and the dark disappears,
and I remember
all the friends
I had made
...
strange days
they were
...
a veritable soft parade
through the tulips
of a game
...
when the music is over
turn out the lights
...
ask fort one more drink
...
I have to tell you
that I hate losing friends
that have a special beat
and a very special heart
...
and all of us Bards do,
...
not just me
...
or this is just a game
that hath no music
...
and that my friends
is the one curse
that we all
wish not to see
ever
in our lives.
For that one Bard
only one music is over
...
until the sphere's
take over
...
and lead you
to places
that we can not imagine
let alone think
...
but we can dream
we can hope
and we can tell you
...
we miss you!
And we know
that a new song has appeared
and that one day
you will bring it to my ears
so I can share it with others.
One more drink
...
when the music is over
turn out the lights
...
when the music is over
burn out the frights
...
One last drink,
plz
...
- It was a sad day
...
for me
...
to watch, my, death,
what may be. my death
...
or that of a dream
...
oh yes
...
it is,
like most dreams
...
displaced
in time
in space
in love
...
so beautiful to me
so hopeful to my heart
I've cried
many a day and night
hoping
praying
wishing
that one day
the sanctity of life
the sanctity of love
...
their spirit
...
would come alive
even if once
gawd, just once,
...
in a song
in a poem
...
with your loved ones
those who can see
who wish to share
and pray
at times,
...
for ... the sense.
I am, but a Bard
with heart
with hope
with some love
and yes, a dream
or two
...
a dream that
may never happen
...
to change how we are seen
to change how we are thought
to change what you might've been
to change what our soulhas sought
over the many days
and ages
thru many sages
writers
actors
singers
and most of all
...
hearts.
The sense
was but a feeling
but a hope
that someday
all of us could meet
(ohh yes, romantic shit!)
and share a time
...
and share a line
...
some space
...
the game was fun
the work was better
my love for you larger
than anything you've ever seen
...
I had a dream
of some sense
a song with a sting
that would sound
through all of Ayre
...
on the way
to your heart
...
maybe
on the way
to your game
...
to make it real,
not just some play, fun
...
like all Bards
I accept my fate
the hermit of words
...
forever living
his hope
his love
his dream
to nothing, but another set of words,
that someday
I hope to share with all
in this world
in this halo
that I have come to call
the stryngs
of our ayre.
- Of all things in my life,
that I have been through,
have enjoyed,
have suffered,
...
it has taken a game,
to show me,
a thing or two
...
You can not petition Glory
...
with vanity!
Along with the long line
of minstrels and bards,
I have written a lot,
some good,
some bad,
most an attempt
to learn who I am
...
and write a few words
...
that might have meaning
...
I suppose that sometimes,
we need attention,
crave some recognition
...
some love
...
some sign
of meanigfullness
in this land
...
amidst our
...
families
...
Here we must grow,
earn, live, learn,
just so one day,
we can work together
...
and hope to achieve
...
I really do not know what
...
some vanity
...
that will last a few minutes
before the next fight
...
or the next death.
(Start playing a song)
Can you give me sanctuary
I must find a place to hide
A place for me to hide
...
can you find me soft asylum
where music is played
with many Lutes,
many Recorders and Flutes,
many Drums
...
where I can share the vision
where I can share the desire
to make new friends
meaningful friends
that can help me fight,
for this land,
for our heart,
for our song,
for my soul,
...
here comes the best part
...
start your song
...
join my song
...
share the note
share the love
share the unity
...
I can't make it any more
The man is at the frontier
...
wanting one of our
...
relics
...
Successful hills are here to stay
Everything must be this way
Gentle street where people play
Welcome to the soft parade
says the leader
...
that helped create
...
this game
...
All our lives we sweat and save
Building a character
for a shallow grave
with so few coppers,
little armor and ugly staves
some cheap, fake leather
helping us be brave
seeing many coffers
...
There must be something else to say
Somehow to defend this place
Everything must be this way
Everything must be this way
...
The soft parade has now begun
Listen to the minstrel's hum
People out to have some fun
A snake on my left
A Leopard on my right
Deer woman in a silk dress
Girls with heads about their necks
...
they are all here
watching me
and many others
...
speak their hearts
speak their minds
kiss the hunter of the green vest
who has wrestled before
with all the lions in the night
...
Out of sight, man
Really cool, man
You are now up high
...
The lights are getting brighter
The Internet is moaning around you
calling to the dogs
...
there are still a few animals
left out in the yard
for you to kill
...
But it's getting harder
to describe travellers
to the underfed realm corridor
with no treasure
...
where we meet our enemies
and gain more vanity
some measure of worth
...
You can not petition Glory with vanity!
The leader has no ears
The leader has no heart
The leader doesn't see
The leader is omnipotent
...
and you are caught
in this fight
...
and are told
that glory is within
these walls
...
Oh yeah!
...
These brick walls
that have a history of death
no history of heart
only dreams of a glory
long gone
destroyed
by the same worms
that rule today.
We need someone or something new
Something else to get us through
...
Calling on the dogs
Calling on the dogs
Calling on the dogs
Calling in the dogs
Calling all the dogs
Calling on the dogs
...
Meet me at the crossroads
Meet me at the edge of town
Outskirts of this city
All of you and I
Under the evening sky
...
We're not alone
You'd better not come alone
You'd better bring your weapons
We're gonna have some fun
When all else fails
We can whip the poohka' eyes
And make them all sleep
...
And cry...
...
Have we won?
...
What have we lost?
Sleep.
Sleep,
Sweet and gentle body
that your dream
will one day come alive
and that you will fight
harmoniously
with your breath
with your spirit
with your heart
...
and prove yet again
...
that even in this game
...
you can not petition
the Glory,
with your vanity.
Dream the dream
off the game
any game
...
and fight
...
what? knowest thou not?
...
empty thy dream
of vestiges of a whore
in search of the ultimate lore
and hope that one day,
it will mean something to you
and to your friends
...
a hollow victory
...
spelled out
in a way that
keeps you down
lost
forgotten
dead
...
petitioning yet again
...
for some glory
...
amidst all the vanity
...
...
of this soft parade.
It was with much sadness
that I happened
per chance
to see your eyes
...
on this day
...
I didn't know what to think
I did not know what to feel
I had no idea how to react
I turned around
looked in all directions
found no one
...
sat down
...
prayed
...
and then left
...
...
nothing prepared me
for the image
of those sad
teary eyes
...
was it pain?
was it life?
was it time?
who knows
who will ever know?
...
that our time
will have come
in such a way
...
you know
we think of violence
and glorify it
and yet
never accept
our responsibilities
and desires
and love
through which
this is all created.
It was on a sad evening
when the sun had set
the rain had stopped
that I passed by here
and saw this
...
and showed me
the thing I disliked
about many games
...
disguised as a sad truth
in our midst
...
we are disrespectful beings
lacking in heart
and even though
many will say
this is a game
I can spell it to you
that this is not far
from the reality
that we will not accept
...
and often punish many
for their misdeeds.
I've seen
many eyes
some deep as the oceans,
some shallow as a stream
and few talk to me
as much as that image did
...
I hardly knew how to react
...
or what to think
...
and unffortunately
for way too many out there
this is just a game.
Is it now?
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REMEMBERY: EPYLLION IN ANAMNESIS (1996), poems by Michael R. Collings
AFTER ALL, HE WAS AN ANGEL, a novel by Rita Stilli
DYNASTY (1968), Poems by Klaus J. Gerken
THE WIZARD EXPLODED SONGBOOK (1969), songs by Klaus J. Gerken
STREETS (1971), Poems by Klaus J. Gerken
BLOODLETTING (1972) poems by Klaus J. Gerken
ACTS (1972) a novel by Klaus J. Gerken
RITES (1974), a novel by Klaus J. Gerken
FULL BLACK Q (1975), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken
ONE NEW FLASH OF LIGHT (1976), a play by Klaus J. Gerken
THE BLACKED-OUT MIRROR (1979), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken
JOURNEY (1981), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken
LADIES (1983), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken
FRAGMENTS OF A BRIEF ENCOUNTER (1984), poems by Klaus J. Gerken
THE BREAKING OF DESIRE (1986), poems by Klaus J. Gerken
FURTHER SONGS (1986), songs by Klaus J. Gerken
POEMS OF DESTRUCTION (1988), poems by Klaus J. Gerken
THE AFFLICTED (1991), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken
DIAMOND DOGS (1992), poems by Klaus J. Gerken
KILLING FIELD (1992), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken
BARDO (1994-1995), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken
FURTHER EVIDENCES (1995-1996) Poems by Klaus J. Gerken
CALIBAN'S ESCAPE AND OTHER POEMS (1996), by Klaus J. Gerken
CALIBAN'S DREAM (1996-1997), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken
SHACKLED TO THE STONE, by Albrecht Haushofer - translated by JR Wesdorp
MZ-DMZ (1988), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
DARK SIDE (1991), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
STEEL REIGNS & STILL RAINS (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
BLATANT VANITY (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
ALIENATION OF AFFECTION (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
LIVING LIFE AT FACE VALUE (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
HATRED BLURRED (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
CHOKING ON THE ASHES OF A RUNAWAY (1993), ramblings by I. Koshevoy
BORROWED FEELINGS BUYING TIME (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
HARD ACT TO SWALLOW (1994), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
HALL OF MIRRORS (1994), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
ARTIFICIAL BUOYANCY (1994), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy
THE POETRY OF PEDRO SENA, poems by Pedro Sena
THE FILM REVIEWS, by Pedro Sena
THE SHORT STORIES, by Pedro Sena
INCANTATIONS, by Pedro Sena
POEMS (1970), poems by Franz Zorn
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