C M Rasys

I often tell people that I don’t eat raisins because I had a bad experience, but I don’t always tell them what that experience was. In fact, sometimes merely telling people of my experience makes them not eat raisins as well. But what horrible thing happened to make me stop eating such a seemingly harmless food?

Did you know? All the world’s a river, I and others, the rocks and refuse, The masses the flow and ebb, and you? You’re the glisten, the shine, the glow, the glinting refraction, the bouncing reflection, the whole world turned upside-down in an endless azure splotched with wisps of vapor and verisimilitude.

Did you hear? All my mind’s a fire, Distaste and derision the cracks and pops, Discord and doubt the hiss and the flare, and you? You’re the comfort, the warmth, the calm, the curious distraction, the soothing reception, the dark candor of the woods split like vines in a sprawling stretch of orange hue and sanguine familiarity.

Sometimes it’s her hair, or her eyes, or lips.

Sometimes it’s the way she tilts her head when she talks.

Sometimes it’s her breasts, or her ass.

Sometimes it’s the way she walks when she knows you’re watching.

Sometimes it’s hearing her speak your name.

Sometimes it’s her long legs, or her creamy skin.

Sometimes it’s the words she uses when she talks, or those ideas that nobody else ever has.

There is a place, far from here, where the wind whispers rhymes hewn from the words of God.

Where the rocks gleam with the spit of man, massed piles of granite and obsidian rejects, strewn about like marbles from the sky.

A place where all the birds are stripped bare of feathers and limbs and crawl through the grass like beaked-worms.

The trees all bleed milky dew with a scent of berries mixed with old blood, attracting insects that stick and die, wings twitching in the wind.

Stan’s the man from Pakistan,

Devised a plan to get with Anne

Involving flans, lambs, and highly polished jars of jam.

As I said once to the rotting dead of past,

What stories are told by lips of mold at last?

Battles and defeat, a wanton retreat, a stabbing cuirass?

Said He to I, “No, I died, so simple and crass.”

A love forlorn? A heart a torn perhaps? Suicide pact?

“Nay” said Him, to my chagrin, “I haven’t such tact.”

Then please, tell me, just how it be, your body’s cold?

There once was this babe who was teething

The sound hurt my head like a beating

So I yanked them all out

He gave quite a shout

And now he’s all quiet and bleeding

Things of stone will crumble when,

We do not know why we built them.

September 16, 2023

• Added background images for Programming excerpts
• Numerous small tweaks to background image display

September 14, 2023

• Finally installed an SSL certificate

August 26, 2023

• Excerpts can now display background images
• Added a few more background images to articles

August 22, 2023

• Added a bunch of title and alt info to links and images
• Added SEO descriptions on relevant pages

August 18, 2023

• Added shortcode for parallax images

August 9, 2023

I’ve always had a strong interest in both creative writing and computer programming. I’m sure most people might consider this an odd combination but it’s never felt like that to me. They’re both a way to express yourself using language. They both have grammar and syntax; a large hierarchy of complex rules; and a near-infinite number of possible permutations. You know, monkeys and typewriters and all that.

I’ve spent a good number of years doing programming/web development as a career and keeping most of the creative output as a hobby on the side. But that’s incidental. Regardless of my vocation, I’ll always be a writer and I’ll always be a programmer.

Whatever you were looking for doesn’t exist

Sorry about that.

Here are some random posts instead

...the car. My father was not outside waiting for me. There was no one there to greet the scared and confused child. I had a small plastic bag of clothes for... 47 Memory Lane

...worth less. If Marvel poops out dozens of cookie-cutter product-films, their value will continue to decline. Without any inherent artistic merit, there's nothing else of value contained within them. It's... Guardians of the Galaxy Vs. Ant-Man