Sunday, February 14, 2010


It was golden and splendid,
  That City of light;
A vision suspended
  In deeps of the night;
A region of wonder and glory, whose temples were marble and white.

I remember the season
  It dawn'd on my gaze;
The mad time of unreason,
  The brain-numbing days
When Winter, white-sheeted and ghastly, stalks onward to torture and craze.

More lovely than Zion
  It shone in the sky
When the beams of Orion
  Beclouded my eye,
Bringing sleep that was filled with dim mem'ries of moments obscure and gone by.

Its mansions were stately,
  With carvings made fair,
Each rising sedately
  On terraces rare,
And the gardens were fragrant and bright with strange miracles blossoming there.

The avenues lur'd me
  With vistas sublime;
Tall arches assur'd me
  That once on a time
I had wander'd in rapture beneath them, and bask'd in the Halcyon clime.

On the plazas were standing
  A sculptur'd array;
Long bearded, commanding,
  rave men in their day--
But one stood dismantled and broken, its bearded face battered away.

In that city effulgent
  No mortal I saw,
But my fancy, indulgent
  To memory's law,
Linger'd long on the forms in the plazas, and eyed their stone features with awe.

I fann'd the faint ember
  That glow'd in my mind,
And strove to remember
  The aeons behind;
To rove thro' infinity freely, and visit the past unconfin'd.

Then the horrible warning
  Upon my soul sped
Like the ominous morning
  That rises in red,
And in panic I flew from the knowledge of terrors forgotten and dead.

Saturday, February 13, 2010


We found it together. Me, Carrie, and our son John. John was the one who opened it and rushed forward into the City, delighted at such wonders. Carrie followed him, if only to make sure he was safe.

And the Door shut softly behind them.

I had not entered. I had stood there, in a state of shock. Frozen solid in my belief that what was before me was not real. Reality, as I was quick to learn, was malleable.

When I tried opening the Door again, there was nothing behind it. Let me rephrase that: there was Nothing behind it. Black and vast, Nothingness stretched out from the Doorway to infinity.

I shut it quickly and closed my eyes. When I opened them, the Door was no longer there.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010


   I am the Empty Ekistician.

   I am the man searching for Doorways. Searching for the City. Searching for a place without Shadows.

   There are records of it (most are false). There are people who have claimed to have seen it (most are liars). There are those obsessed with it (most are like me) and those who wish to exploit it (most are never going to find it).

  I've found a total of six Doors. Only the first one has led to the City.