Thursday, January 15, 2015

This is a new story I am working on. When I was a teenager a friend of mine kept talking about a "Yaksmith" all the time. Every joke would involve Yaksmiths and their doings. I never really knew what they were so I decided to attribute some meaning to the term through this story. There are 3 others ahead of it for publishing so it may not see light for awhile other than in this blessed place.

The Harrowless Yaksmith

In a sideways dimension
past a field by a lake,
By a hole of confetti,
Near the gatekeeper's rake,
With a silence so awkward,
And a sky very weird,
Sits a house that's abandoned,
And its well full of tears.

If you swim to the floor of the well you can read,
the words that are written and what they do mean.
There is only one evening,
Just once in each year,
 They glow with the moonbeams
Upon them so clear.
The sorrowful words of the Yaksmith
Who feared, that being too cheery was not what was dear,
To all of his tribesman who loved to cause fear.

"My name is Steve Stevenson Stevecroft Stravine.
And it is my duty to now take my leave.
For I am not scary enough for my folk,
the Harrowing Yaksmiths of Solomin Slope.
A land dark and gloomy thats'
filled with ravines.
A land soaked in mist that comes from beast' sneeze.
This is the Solomin Slope that I flee.

I was a tribesman the first of my kind,
The mightiest Yaksmith to work on the line.
A line that would go single file through the land.
Riding our Yaks like a brotherhood band.
Scaring all seekers of light in our way,
Frightening everyone who wished to play.
Filling all someones we saw with dismay.
This was our job as we rode far and near,
Training our Yaks to also stir up fear.
Our faces were furrowed, our eyebrows were grim.
Our shadows had shadows whose shadows scared them!
With suits of dark yak-fur and hoods hiding eyes,
That pierced through the souls of all onlooker spies.

Each Evening we met by the field with the lake
We boosted our energy with a thick shake
Of blackworster feathers and salsberry splew
Of gray, moldy turnips and berchberry dew
We sang out a song, a wickedly tune...
About how much pleasure our harrowing gives 
And how we endeavor to scary every kid. 
There was one lone girl who we could not scare 
The gatekeeper who let us ride everywhere
For she was a terror herself to behold
Foul was her glare and eerie her clothes. 
At twilight she lit her pale lantern for us.  
And opened the gate where we left our fortress. 
Allowing us into a world of darkness. 

One night riding deep in a valley alone,
Looking for food to bring back to my fold.
I came accross something that frosted my bones,
A group of young Yaklings were there with no home.
Their bed was a woodpile, their blankets were stones.
They looked at me sadly expecting a Scare,
But I couldn't do it, my heart wasn't there.
My Harrowing gland was a functionless fair.
My need to cause fright vanished into the air.
For why should I frighten such sorrowful souls.
When all that they wanted was bread and warm clothes!

I reached out to help them and gave them a smile,
There faces were dirty, their eyeballs were wild.
Their sandy rag hairdos were not quite in style.
"Where are your parents?"  I asked right away.
      "They've been scared so silly that they could not stay.
   For yesterday noonish, heat of the day,
several dark Yaksmith came riding their way.
They growled in their faces, they stared in their eyes,
they dirtied their clothes with mud up to their thighs
Their Yaks shoved them backwards with stink from their fur,
Our parents felt terror so much their eyes blurred.
They couldn't see straight,
They ran and they ran,
The fear of the Yaksmiths chased them from the land!
And here we are hiding, for we have no home,
our House ran away from fear of it's own."

When I heard these things, I knew what to do.
I took off my coat and made them all shoes.
I gave them my bread, my hat and my purse.
With 85 cents, whatever it's worth.
I told them I'd hide them and help them to search,
for their dear mom & dad in the Perch.
The Perch was a place that no one had seen,
'cause no one in Solimin Slope had enough self-esteem.
Well, no one who went there came back once they'd been.
-A paradise land, where no one felt fear,
And no one had bruises or ever cried tears.
Your clothes are all white there, your teeth are all clean
Your Salsberry Stew is not made by machines!
The ocean is golden, The sky always blue,
the Houses are made with high-quality tools.

I knew of just one way to safely get there,
it wouldn't be easy,
but I did not care.
I was so tired of causing such fear.
I wanted just once to feel nothing but cheer!
My brothers would hate me, those Yaksmith would scorn
and curse the dread day when their leader was born.
And Just as I thought this, I heard a loud horn.
The horn used by Yaksmiths that they used to warn
all of their brothers that someone had torn
himself from the group in which he had been sworn.
From up on the top of the Valley the riders could see
That I was not scaring these folk before me.
My cloak I had shed, my eyes had turned kind,
All of the scare thoughts had slipped from my mind.

My Yak that I'd trained
Had also gone soft
The one I had raised from a Yak seedling crop.
I raised him to bite,to gripe and to grunt
To perculate hair on the back of your thumb
To stench up the air with his Bathless blue mane
A lock of his fur could stink you insane.
To say he was friendly would be quite a stretch
His only friend was the back of your neck
And the hairs that stood up there
when he Caused your wreck!
But he wasn't like that,
No not anymore
Since seeing those children
His foes felt no horror.
But now we had new foes who knocked at our door.
The Harrowing Yaksmiths to settle their score!
They knew I'd rejected the honor so high
Of causing all someone's to fill up with fright.
They saw we weren't scaring these friends we had found
So they fast pursued us
They hunted us down.

We jumped on our Yak, the children and I.
On the back of our Yak we sped through the night.
It seemed we'd elluded our enemy chase.
It looked like we'd ended our frightfulish race.
Yet somehow events left us feeling disgraced.
By a hole of confetti, past a field by a lake,
We thought we had given those Yaksmiths a shake,
But instead of being back miles to our rear,
this shadowy clan was in fact very near.
They circled us back all the way to my house,
And now they surrounded us from North to South.
Deciding to not let us stand there and perish,
Our Yak then did something extremely darish.
Charging us forward, flipping us high,
Far through the air where we landed outside.
Clear out of that circle of doom where we tried,
To see if our friend was coming for us...
Our friend had assumed the role of a Huss.
A Huss was a hero who spared his friend's lives,
By fighting for them with all of his might.
Seeing him one by one throw Yaksmiths aside,
The children and I, it caused us to cry.
We knew we might never see him again,
But that was the role of this Huss as our friend.

Crying our tears, flowing them out.
Creating puddles and streams all about.
I wanted to fight with my Yak but I knew,
I had to get these children back to their folks,
And leave this dread country of Solimin Slope.
There was only one way that I knew we could leave.
It was right by my house, or my name isn't Steve.

As we approached my house with its well
I lowered a rope ladder into its swell.
We had to put on special helmets to breath
Because our sad tears filled this well where we grieved.
We climbed to the bottom and swam through a room,
Where I wrote this story on its wall just for you.
Beyond the room we could see a dark tunnel,
The one that was rumored to lead to a funnel.
Where we could slide down and land in the Perch,
And leave for forever all feelings of hurt.
As we swam further onward thru our aching tears,
I thought that I heard from behind me blue fur.
How do you hear blue fur? How can it be?
When running it makes the swift sound of a breeze
Or of one thousand lady bugs shaking their knees.
Some say its noise is like berchberry fleas.
My senses were keen, my hearing was right.
The blue-est of yak sights then gave us delight.
Our yak had somehowish found victory that night!
Needing  to ride him and hug his blue mane,
We wallopped on thru the darkness in vain.
For there was no funnel or hole in the ground.
All we could see was an endless surround
Of black molten bricks and cobblestone floors,
No sign for days, of holes, slides, or doors.
Just as we thought about giving it up,
Just as we felt that our that our legs would erupt,
Sunlight shot up from the floor and we knew
The place we were searching was actually True!
Into the funnel and out of the night,
Into a place where there lacked no sunlight.
Out of our scaries, our fears and our tears,
Out of the sadness that squeezed us for years..
We fell smack dab right into the Perch!
Greeted by parents for whom we searched,
Greeted by unlces and aunties and mothers,
Hellos and hugs from 100 stepbrothers.
Welcomed by people I'd known as a child
Some of them Yaksmiths who'd been very wild.
"How did you get here, how did you leave?
How did you escape that fowl world of disease,
To this golden paradise land with its seas"?

The answer they gave me, they all gave together,
They lifted their voices so high without measure..
Just how high it was that their voices they raised,
But in unity unison they then  expalined
How it came that they stood there that day-
" two parts of courage, one part of trust,
one part belief it was something we must.
Three parts spaghetti, one teaspoon of dreams,
500 calories of of guarantees...
That Solimin Slope was a place we could leave.
Yes we were scared and frightened each day
Yes we were told that there was no way
But we heard a voice that, said, that wasnt true...
That voice was in me and that voice is in you.
It tells us to walk when we think we will drop.
It tells us to get up and to put on our socks.
It tells us that there is no endless bad ending,
But only a bump in a road that is bending.
We listened to that voice and now we are here.
Where no one has bruises or ever cries tears.
So please join us now for a fabulous feast,
Beneath a glad sunshine that will never cease...
Beneath a blue sky that sees nothing but peace.

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