maddie jane

: : : geek diaries : : :

welcome... this is, a collection of musings, random thoughts, some pictures of me and my friends, and lots of my daughter, maddie, some links to favorite places on the 'net, and various sundry other things. have a look around, you might find something useful, or even interesting.

there isn't any rhyme or reason, this is a place for me to vent, post thoughts, comment on the mundane, quote verse, and sometimes share the very rare flashes of sheer, unadulterated genius. they can happen to anyone, even me.

: : : i'm a geek, get over it : : :

this site, and all pages, images, and content herein are (c) brian j. bolander. you may not link to nor use any image or content without prior written permission.
: : :   poetry and prose   : : :

bridge over troubled waters

here are the silent places that yearn for starlight. here are things that shine luminously under a moon hanging brightly in winter skies. here are things that burn in the hot and humid jungle of life, of memories, of experience. here are things frozen in the wastes of the north, having never seen the sun, yet joyous in the icy stillness of a perpetual midnight.

here is thunder, and lightning. here is a tempest driving waves into rocky shores. here are the whispers of autumn breezes through amber and golden leaves. here is the warmth of a fire burning in home's hearth. here is the soft caress of a rose's petal in your love's gentle hands. here is the tenuous wind of a thousand butterflies wafting past. here are the verdantly rolling hills of our youth, when we ran barefoot and carefree.

here is my soul.

a return of ancient things, 13 feb 2003

of ships

sailing, as I wanted to,
sinking, dying after you

alone now,
no shining lights
beams of hope
from distant shore

only the luminous moon
and even she was poison
constant, steady no more

just like old times, but
I've captained here before

you brought me down
ran us aground
scuttled me, holed me

opened me up,
tore me apart.
the abyss yawns
and rushes in

look deep, my heart
down here, where
you found me

sink on down,
i know it's dark -
but familiar

a sanctum of sorts
my hearts home
the tomb of my life

all dead, cold stones
final graveyard
of my sunken bones


the dawn's color deepest blue
vivid and electric
beautiful, yet painful too

wondering, waning
life's blood slowly drying
on the canvas of my soul

alone again, tired and wistful
the deepest abyss yawns below
so easy to slip, so easy to fall
put a gun in my mouth, and end it all

life's color's muted, smeared
somewhere, a raven curses the light of day
i tried again - fought and failed
that raven is as black as you

but I see you at night
you come to me, and leave once more
you'll forget me soon
of this alone am i sure

rose and red

smell of the powder
and bam, i'm dead

lying here, empty arms
and lonely bed.

taste of the oil
and bam, i'm dead

awake? no, not that
almost, she said

a gun in my mouth
and bam, i'm dead

tonight i held you.
"my love", you said.

suck on the barrel
and bam, i'm dead

so close to that dream
still in my head

please give me the gun
and bam, i'm dead

oh rose, what have you done
to my heart, my head

squeezing the trigger
and bam, i'm dead

and then i can dream
of rose, and red...

assorted prose, 6 feb 2003


the stars shine for me
bright in night's sky
in my fondest memory
we walk, you and i

down the lanes of sacile
hand in hand, smiling
and at the end of the day
lying in your arms, weeping

my tears of pure joy
stream down the face
of this torn up boy
gently, you taste

my heart, my soul, my fire
i promise this to you, dear
my hearts deepest desire
i shall always be near

i love you, with all my might
standing by your side
by sun, moon, or twi-light
until the the day i die.


smiling softly, your
face gently lit by moon's light -
beauty in my hands.


i have ever been much afraid
at the dark end of day
the night held no safety for
me and my friends as we ran

until our first night alone
when you came, and touched lips to mine
hope and love blossomed inside me
you filled me with your light

and when the sun falls from the sky
bleak darkness descends gently
no stars or moon without you
i'm alone, unafraid of dark

your love lights the trail
again i run, solitary i roam
fearless, strong, and hale
back to you, to love, and home

haiku, 13 december 2002

alone at nightfall,
dreaming of you under stars
shining just for us.

warm, supple soft skin,
the scent and taste of your love
like gentle rainfall.

i close my eyes, love
i see you in my minds eye -
and my heart is home.

sun sinking slowly,
falling on cold distant peaks;
thoughts of home warm me.

firelight dancing warm
the gentle glow lights our house
my heart is there, home.

dreams oft visit me
late at night, i wake smiling
your face hanging bright

you and i alone
eyes closed, upraised ready to
perform miracles

i am no angel
wings lost long ago, but with
you i'm like a god

world full of nothing
only you by the firelight
home, safe at long last

cabin in the woods
door shut against the cold
passions rage inside

welcome to our home
peace and warmth surround you here
sanctuary found

rain gently falls
outside our bedroom window
nature sings to us

a traveler's tale, 7 september 2002

when time ceased to matter, when i measured its passage by moon and stars in southern skies, i took an elk with my bow. tired yet still proud, he was alone as i. seeming to await my arrival patiently, he stood resolutely, unflinching at my sight and smell. our eyes met mid arrow's flight, and he smiled at me as death thumped into his heart. sighing in harmony with the singing of my bow, he bent his knees and laid down his life there in the grass. he was dead when i reached him.

i knelt on the canyon's floor, beside my brother, and cut out his heart. i raised his life to the sky, and then ate it. the bull's spirit left this world as his life's blood ran down my chin.

this gift was not wasted, and while he traveled better paths, his final smiling benediction gave me new life. his brain-tanned hide replaced my weary boots, and guarded me against the night's bitter chill. his sinews were thread to sew with splintered bone a jacket and rude trousers that were tougher than the mountains themselves. the point of an antler replaced my broken knife's hilt, his guts enticed silvery trout in crystal streams. the sun dried meat of his shoulders and haunch filled me, sustaining me. his shoulder blades i chipped into arrow points, and his bones a marker became, mutely crying "here passed a hunter, to whom i gave my life".

grandfather's ghost smiled softly, nodding approval at the way i wasted nothing. what i could not use i left for the hungry wild things, the wolverines and the bears.

long did my journey continue, until i came to a fold in the shoulder of a mountain. a snowmelt stream raced by, murmuring in a bed of boulders and stubborn cattails. nearby, fingers of hardwoods reached from under an evergreen canopy.

intending to be gone in the morning, i made my camp. using the knife papa gifted me when a boy, i dug a pit in the loamy earth. the stream's smooth bedclothes lined it, and i strode into the forest, gathering the bounty of its floor. with offerings from ancient oaks bound loosely with rope, i returned and built a fire into which i fed last gift of dying trees. i warmed my weary feet and calloused hands in its dancing glow. the sun soon set on distant peaks, and night fell upon me with all its savage beauty. the fire watched me drift off, and guarded me through the night.

the sun burned holes in my eyes as i awoke. rising, i greeted her with an offering of smoke, cattail roots, duck eggs, and the bacon from an unlucky sow. satisfied, i drank from the cold stream, washed my face, and filled my waterskin.

the day warmed, but not much. i was too high to really be warm. as i strapped my life to my back, preparing to leave, something gave me pause. i looked over the meadow filled with wildflowers, and from behind me in the forest's depths, a solitary wolf sang his loneliness. my pack slipped from fingers suddenly numb, fevered chills caressed the nape of my neck, and an inner voice raised its rich tenor to the contralto wolf-song, singing quietly, "this is the place".

it took all the skill i had to fell and shape the logs that formed my cabin. i carved two new axe handles from hickory deadfalls, and my back ached from the summer's long days of happy labor. the stream yielded clay and stones for hearth and chimney. i chinked the walls inside and out with red mud from it's bed. i worked from sunup to nightfall, worried that winter would rush me like an angry bear, and catching me unawares, force me to flee this place.

it took shape, one laborious sweaty layer at a time, on a small rise yards from stream and forest. in those waters lived fish, and i discovered apples and wild berries in the woods. again, i hunted, never seeing the wolf that i knew was watching. what i could not use, i left for him, and it was bountiful. he sang his thanks to me in his mournful solitary contralto.

at long last, my labor finished, i fashioned a door from rough sawn planks, and made oiled windows from the last of my paper. winter descended, harsh and stern under unforgiving skies.

long did that winter last, many many moons waxed and waned. the mountain above and behind assaulted my home with snow and ice and biting winds. i hunted, i grubbed for roots, i melted ice and snow for my daily drink, and i survived. i know the wolf had a hard go of it, for every night the oaks and pines resonated with his lament for the silent death upon the face of the world. he and i endured the long night, each safe and warm in cabin and den, sleepily content no matter the fury outside.

then, as is the course of all natural things, the bawling tempests and deathly storms howled themselves out. life began anew. the meadow's flowers burst exuberantly from the ground, the stream threw off winters' grip, the trees pushed leaves out every twig until they seemed impossibly green. i exhumed my seeds from a long unused pack, and planted a garden of tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, carrots, and potatoes. times were lean until the earth brought forth it's first fruit, and after, the rich soil's blessing sustained me.

i added to my home, fashioning a table, two chairs, and a mantle from green woods, bending and shaping with axe and knife until they were comfortable. a lean-to rested, newly built, against the eastern wall of the cabin, filled to overflowing with wood hard fought and won from the dead trees deep inside the forest. i dug a root cellar, and filled it with preserved meat, dried fish, and the fruits of the garden. steps fashioned from rounded stones and bound together with clay i planted before my door. i rendered the fat of three peccaries into soap, combining the drippings with lye steeped from the ashes of my fires. at long last, i was cleansed.

working quietly, almost reverently, a bed next i made, from oak and woven rushes. the oak was a sturdy frame where i wove the rushes, laying my mattress made of shredded cattails. the downy softness of them sewn inside the last of my canvas, i once again slumbered in comfort. the wolf and i sang each other to sleep.

the seasons (and i was aware of them again, for the moon was no longer an adequate keeper of time) changed again, and i noted a welcome chill, the sharp teeth in the air, the silvery hoar of frost on the meadow. the summer was fleeting, so full of improvements, so wrought with labor and sweat and tears of frustration and eventual triumph. it fled and was gone before i even noticed it leaving. fall was short, the trees releasing their leaves that fell in into piles of gold and amber and yellow glory littering the forest's floor.

the first snow fell soon after, dusting my valley in great sheets of aching white. one bitter cold day, as the light faded in deference to impending night, i sat eating my evening meal, preparing for winter's grip, readying myself for the lonesome sojourn ahead.

astonishingly, there came a knock, afraid to be heard, that brushed softly my door. within the space of a single heartbeat, i felt elation, knew fear, cried for sadness, laughed for joy, fought back pain, befriended terror and embraced happiness. there came a pounding from my chest, as the elk's heart beat madly, chasing the wind in his primeval heaven. we raced and lept through vale and glen, and in the vaults of my soul, i saw his last smile, and understood his gift at last. my mind screamed not to answer that subtle salutation, but the deeper, more powerful things i had consumed with my brother's heart forced my hand.

i rushed to open the latch, and wrestled frantically with it, for it was stuck. fearing that no-one would be there, finally i flung wide the entry, and beheld there a traveler more weary than ever i had seen before. a worn and tired sojourner, who's trail was far longer and much steeper than ever mine was. the tattered, stained clothes, the bruised hands, a dirty face, and broken posture bore screaming testimony to pain so unbearable it tore me in places only my soul knew existed.

wonderingly, fearfully, the wanderer's eyes met mine, and the questions there remained unasked, unsaid. there was no conflict in me, as i took the proffered hand, led the sufferer inside, and bade "please, sit at my table. fill yourself with fruits from my garden, from the sacrifices of days gone by. warm yourself in the light and heat of my fire". then kneeling, i tenderly bathed the feet of my guest, soothing as best i could the wounds i found there. words were unspoken, unnecessary, and inadequate, as tears fell from our eyes.

outside, my friend the wolf howled his joyous approval. for the first time, another voice rose in perfect harmony with his, adding her blessed soprano to his contralto, and my heart sang inside me.

haiku, 6 september 2002

sweet surprise, the
fertile soil, secret garden -
and life grows anew

stay with me this night,
leave your trouble on my porch
let me taste your tears

down a winding path,
in the heart's secret garden,
grows a perfect rose.

bodies warm, entwined
candle's glow, i see your face
finally i'm alive

complicate my life,
i implore of you tonight.
let me live once more.

tremble in my arms,
passion rages, lips touch mine -
your kiss burns like fire

single rose rooted
in fertile earth, secret place -
gently, he waters.

the smell of your skin,
sweet taste of you on my lips,
life worth living now

taste of you lingers -
perfumed scent on still-warm sheets,
i miss you so soon?

bittersweet, drugged
on the taste and smell of you -
need like addiction.