[Bards] A few matters of business...

Ivo Blackhawk ivo_blackhawk at hotmail.com
Sat Aug 4 20:47:33 PDT 2001

Okay, real quick now, I'm not going to tie you all up with a long

First of all, just a quick little favor, with all the "replying" we all do,
would everyone please take a extra second to delete the original message
from below their really unless its important. The redundancy is getting a
little much, and my In box can get full overnight. Im not mad, annoyed or
even frustrated, I'm just mentioning it for the sake of my (and maybe
other's e-mail in boxes).

Second, Robert, an excellent Idea. While I myself don't fancy myself any
sort of Poet, the idea has potential to say the least, and if there is
anything that I can do, please feel free to contact me for help, this could
be just the thing to help reinvigorate bardic in the north a little.

Third, Lord Iain MacCrimmon, your poem was hideous and made me shiver.



Excellent job!

I loved it, the visuals were great and given enough verbal practice, I think
you can make it work, perhaps even as a "trump" piece in a bardic
competition. Light hearted Poetry like that is an excellent way to set the
mood, or break a bad one. A job well done in my opinion. I look forward to
hearing it preformed if we ever cross paths.

Finally, While I don't Fancy myself a poet, I do have a poem to submit for
the masses to shred. Don't count on my changing it any, it is a very special
piece, and it has a very important meaning to me. If as it borders on 'non
period', any help on setting up my delivery would be a welcome discussion.

The Mortar

I stand alone so far from home
And then a Scream

No Irish Banshee, or russian Wolf
are as terrifying as the scream of that faithful 'Whoof'

The scream is from a falling mortar,
that seeks out men who sit and loiter
in and near the darkened places
where smoke and ash contain the faces
of friend and foe,
who's death is all the ground will show.

Human parts not meant to be seen,
sit and float in pure blood streams,
victims of the lethal tools,
furnished by the fat who rule.

Composed in the Eighth grade by Cisco Cividanes
(who later joined the SCA and became Ivo Blackhawk)

Yours in service
Lord Ivo Blackhawk
Northern Regional Bard
"God Save the King!"

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