Ghost Rider (a poem by JA Sterling)

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The soulful wind still wails down the steep ravines
That crosses the prairies with abatement and reckless arrangement

Where the thistle blooms in deep tones of purple
Burst forth in the summer sky only to die in splendor white puffs

There in this land home to the bison and deer,
Here where he once called home his figure can still be seen

They say when the sun is low in the east, on the ridge
Just to the right of the peak that marks the landscape

Watch that point where the ground meets the sky
As the horizon begins to glow with rufescent hue as the sun sets

Wait patiently as the color spreads to form an arc
In the middle of that arc, silently from nothing, from nowhere he appears

He can be seen riding, a slow deliberate pace
Behind him rich bittersweet corals, pinks, streak across the atmosphere

Proud fearful of no man in his daring nightly rides
A dark black silhouette, created from all those colors into the absence

As the last rays of sun finally sets, the image melts
The rider astride his horse tip his hat as he bows to the earth

There he waits in cold icy ground
Till the warmth of the setting sun casts down drawing him up

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Dante’s Gates (a poem)

Getting closer to finishing the mess of Book One… this has been a nightmare… speaking of nightmares here is a ‘spooky’ fun poem

Dante’s Gates  (a poem by JA Sterling)

Yea I have entered the gates of hell, the eternal damnation of fire and brimstone

Shadows; all that lurk about are but shadows, shades of their former existence

They are cloaked, isolated one from the other, no touching, no comfort afforded

My own soul was torn from the body by the sharp claws of Tisiphone herself

The screams of damnation, the words of death, as she laughed at me in the end

Terror surged through me, panic, fear, cursed by my life, my debt I must now pay

Those I took in life, whose life I determine mine; relinquish to me, to extinguish

Those I never thought they felt the pain, the searing agony I now must endure

Trepidation I feel, the harshness I must bear is beyond my wildest imagination

No fiery sermon from the pulpit can prepare yea for the depths of despair, hate

Yea I entered Dante’s gates, the rings of hell enveloped me, swallowed me

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Forgotten Life (a poem)

forgotten life

Silent, the towers ring no bells, an old wooden hay wagons sits petrified abandoned in place.

No life, no children laughing in the streets, no wives crying out for their wayward husbands.

Silent the town sits, her voice muted, what horrors lay within none can tell, for none remained.

Once colorful hues of red terraced roofs, of cerulean walls, of purple sashes and yellow fences.

Silent the colors are now, faded, peeled, cracked exposing the wood to the elements, to mildew blackness

Not even the ghosts can speak out in this realm, this land of forgotten breath, claimed by demons

Silent, the wind blows through whipping up the dust into devils, yet silence envelopes, no sounds

Upon the hill, overlooking the polished mirror water below reflecting treachery, coldness forbidding.

Silent the time passes on, forgetting the town, the people, the events that transpired that dark night.

So long ago when the fragrant trees stood blocking the sun, where flowers threw out invitations

Silent the trees stand dead gnarled bleached wood, silent the flowers shriveled, the ground barren

The poison of evil, of vile acts man commits on man, kindled by the fire of hate, of intolerance, of injustice

Silent the town stands, reminder to all, the failure of man, the downfall of humanity the power of demonic forces

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Ghastly Pirouette

While I continue to plow through Book One, since it is the “spooky” season  I am posting some “spooky” poems, stories, drabbles, micro fiction I have done in the past …. please enjoy 
Ghastly Pirouette (a poem by JA Sterling)
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The hour hast commenced, the time of eventide shadows
 
Eerie silence evades, consuming, vast, unnerving
 
Darkness prevails, amidst the flows of tears and pain
 
Reflections of the past are caught in the mirrored panes
 
Frozen, unable to escape the twilight hour, intangible
 
Shrieks fly upon the zephyrs, ear piercing terror surrounds
 
The canyons shudders as boulders plunge withdrawing inside
 
The chaparral is choked, fire threatens, water scarce
 
Shattering the windows collapse, sharp spears of death
 
Thoughts tremble, fear dominates the landscape,
 
Hope flees back to the chest, back to the age of myth
 
Those of the aged world are reborn in this hour to take form
 
Reality has loss perception, bewildered, captured, enslaved
 
For that hour they are awakened, to ride the shock
 
Chattering in the greens of the forest, in the blues of the ocean
 
Stoking the hues of the desert to remember the halcyon age
 
Everything slows to stillness, the dance slows, fade away
 
The creators of time and life reflect what was, what will be
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Book One: Cutting Room Floor

Well been holed up lately trying to plow through and correct Book One and bring it back to what I had originally intended, closer to the seed of what the story is about, as well as add in the subplot that is now being woven in.

I have debated with myself for a while on making these huge changes… yes it changes a good deal of book 1 and 2… but I think for the better. The story is clearer, harsher in what happens, in your face anger when you read about the abuse/horrors, and then at the end hope/resolution will be sweater.

This week alone I deleted over 12,000 words in regards to one character that in my opinion is a minor character to begin with. There is no need for over-done word of praise and how wonderful she is thus overshadowing the major characters or plot. These parts were added with good intentions, however hard decisions had to be made and this character needs cutting way down from the 40,000 words dedicated to her… harsh but needs to be curtailed.

I am also going back to the intense conflict between the Kings over a female… yes a common thread but there is a twist to it in a sense. Sometimes these common elements, especially with alien world, makes the character more humans that one can then relate to. Do not forget wars were held over minor items like affairs, a goat, or even a just a face that launched a thousand ships.

Right now the conflict and tension is watered way down from what I had intended. There needs to be action and an emotional tug that angers and pressure two good friends to the breaking point. And how to overcome that pressure for the good of society in both their planets… not easy but it cannot be watered down to a lukewarm.

Drama, even the soap-opera version is needed to some degree as that is what drives this part of the story: the testing of friendship and the result. Will the person figure out what is going on, will she or he resist, what will be the circumstance… watering it down and having a simple solution is useless, there is no lesson to be learned nor moral…. so back to the cold harsh reality of life where Pandora’s box is opened.

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Dies Irae: The Day of Wrath

getting into the spooky season so in-between tackling the infamous book 1,  so thought I would revive a few short stories and add a bit them them this year…

here is the prologue to one

diesirae jasterling

Dies Irae: The Day of Wrath
Part One: Prologue
By JA Sterling

The day had barely broken before the first life was taken. As the red streaked sun glowed in the east, the pale soil soaked up the crimson blood. The weapon was a simple shotgun chosen for the closeness of the target. The gun and owner was a volatile mixture of damnation and loss of control. He wanted to see the eyes of his victims, to see the terror in the faces, to hear them scream before he pulled the trigger. The shotgun was a perfect weapon for that close contact. The added bonus was if the victim started to run the sprays of pellets ejected from the barrel at over 1000 feet per second would do the damage he was seeking.

The brown grass crackled under his feet as he took his place under a eucalyptus tree not more than 20 feet from the entrance to the door in an eastward direction. There he waited for that door to just open, for her to exit the house in search of the morning paper as she had done every morning for the last 30 years.

His mind full of anger and hate was set on the task of the day, 6 targets. There was no doubt in what had to be done, no hesitation once the first bullet would fly. Once his finger pulled back the trigger, he had to kill them all, he would have no choice.

In the next few hours he would paralyze the small community and stress the limits of the law enforcement personnel. He could not fathom the news that would spread like wildfire in the next few hours through the social media. The terror he would cause in this rural community, the aftermath of his actions would have repercussions for years to come. His name would be scorned and his grave spit upon. Yet none of that would matter to him in the end; their deaths were all he was consumed with.

He knelt down on the ground concealed by the over brush. To his right the paperboy made his rounds throwing the morning paper from the back of an old white Ford pickup. Neither the driver nor the boy saw him kneeling there in the dirt with the shotgun, nor how close they were to death themselves. The minutes now were quickly clicking off to that door opening.

Placing the butt of the stock on his left thigh he slid one by one the red twelve gauge shells into the loading flap listening to each one click in place with one hand. His eyes never left that door; the loading was all done by touch. A maneuver he had practiced repeatedly in the dark until he mastered loading the shotgun without any delay or error. He then brought the gun up to his eye level where he operated the slide backwards then forwards to strip a shell from the magazine and load it into the firing position.

He was now ready to kill.

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New Book Trailer

Still leaning how to make videos, total count 7, yes the big seven.  Here is another attempt at a book trailer for Book 1… please enjoy making these has been both fun and frustrating

 

a longer version that needs to be redone and cleaned up

 

and finally another version of the new one that I did a while back …

 

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