Hello

I am Ryan Eugene Field, or as I have come to be known across various accounts, refield.  If you’re following me over here from DA, you know what to expect, but if you’ve found my work for the first time, maybe not so much.  If you’ve clicked over from Minds, I thank you for not being lazy, and I apologize for the lack of memes.  I have often described myself as an amateur poet and author in the past, and I think that description still holds true.  So far as my poetry goes, I am currently trying to challenge myself by writing a poem a day, and as you can probably guess, this causes a wide range in quality, from atrociously lazy, to something I would honestly take a measure of pride in.  When it comes to prose, I have higher standards.  I refuse to post anything with which I am dissatisfied, which means the stories you read here will be in general, fairly good.  You, dear reader, shall find the subjects I tackle to be quite disparate, from cute little stories about or aimed toward children, to heart wrenching dramas, to heart-pounding adventures, to the glory and terror of nature.  I hope to capture your attention with every new post.

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Pocket

Plugging away,

Productive day,

Had a say,

Liking the way,

The pieces lay,

BUZZ.

 

Oh,

Look a,

Comment,

Like,

Favorite,

Somebody has,

Noticed me,

Online.

 

Where was I?

 

Oh,

Right.

 

Working through,

Staying true,

Parts due,

Something new,

Nothing askew,

BEEP.

 

Oh,

There’s another,

Some hate,

Some love,

Either.

Way,

They,

Noticed my,

Content.

 

Where was I?

 

Oh,

Right.

 

Gotta go,

Not slow,

In the know,

High and low,’

Work to show,

RING.

 

Calling,

Now at,

The worst,

Time,

Don’t you,

Know I’m at,

Work?

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It’s a whole different world out there pal. We’ve got these fantastic little rectangles in our pockets that do something amazing, or rather a few amazing things. In the first place they grant all of us, from the genius in the ivory tower to the idiot in the academy access to the full breadth and depth of human knowledge, and some of our wisdom and lack thereof besides. They also give literally everybody the chance to communicate with the whole connected world at large. Which has had mixed results. Do your best to manage your pocket miracle and not allow it to manage you. Lord knows I’ve had my struggle of it.

Afloat

There is upon the sea a ship,

She’s leaking and her sails are torn,

Her mast is splintered and her rigging may slip,

Her paint is chipped and her figurehead worn,

She sits upon the glassy sea.

Her crew pilots her from harbor to haven,

They do what they can to repair her broken parts,

To neglect her would be craven,

But it’s hard to tell where the job starts,

She sips upon the choppy sea.

There is sailing upon the sea a proud vessel,

Her mast is varnished and her sails are stitched,

The gaps sealed and the rigging sessile,

Her paint shines and her figurehead’s fixed,

She sits upon a favorable sea.

The captain orders to prepare for a gale,

Store up what the crew shall need,

Take care of every sail,

The crew his word did heed,

She sits below a darkening sky.

The waves beat upon her sides,

The wind at the stitching her sails divides,

Precious cargo hither and thither slides,

The captain and the pilot are who the fool derides,

The crew can hardly keep their own insides,

Lightning takes one and leaves those he’s besides,

This is the test of by what the crew abides,

At the mercy of merciless winds and tides.

There is upon the sea a heap of wood,

Her crew is battered but still alive,

The way forward is hard but understood,

Despite her fragility to sail her they’ll strive,

She sails under courageous hands.20171203_211504

I’m afraid I haven’t much to say besides what’s said in the poem.

Coffee’s Gone

Oh woe when the coffee’s gone,

The misery of the final cup drawn,

Not so bad as wholly foregone,

Oh the woe when the coffee’s gone!

 

And in this place you cannot brew,

A steaming pot strong and new,

Suffer through is all you can do,

When in this place you cannot brew!

 

Oh that wonderful bitter taste,

That sets your mind to haste,

Adding cream is just a waste,

Oh that wonderful bitter taste!

 

Even still there is no more,

Until tomorrow to be sure,

Two cups a day is a low score,

Even still there is no more!

 

So be sure to reset the pot,

Or tomorrow will be shot,

And you’ll long for a cup strong and hot,

So be sure to reset the pot!


Why on God’s green earth isn’t there a coffee pot in our break room?  There’s a broken down coffee vending machine sure, but not a flipping coffee machine.  Apart from the half dozen along the wall that we’re not allowed to so much as glance at sideways.  But really, we can’t use them.  No, we really can’t.  Why?  I don’t flipping know, I guess that’s just corporate culture.  Save me from this senseless moderation of God’s own nectar by sharing my posts around.

Cop-out 1

When the night lasts too long,

The morning is too strong!


I made the mistake of not carving out a time to actually sit down and be creative yesterday, please continue to bear with me.

Order

The discipline fell by the wayside,

My space became chaotic on the inside,

Despite the order I wish to imbibe,

And against the goals I did inscribe.

 

An afternoon was all it took,

To find the order I sook,

To knock down the webs and dust every book,

A task I should have not forsook.

 

My mind is clear now that it’s done,

The order made is vision won,

There is no need for the task to shun,

I’ll keep this up now that I’ve begun.

 

Reestablishing a routine after a major change can be a challenge, but it’s not something that I cannot do. Bear with me as I get back into the swing of things, the quality shall improve forthwith.

A Couplet for Ben Shapiro

They sling anti-Semite at you,

But do they know you’re a Jew?


I saw some signs over at Berkley accusing Ben Shapiro of being a Nazi and an anti-Semite. He’s a Jew. He wears the little hat and everything. I don’t know what else needs to be said about this situation. Just the obvious stupidity of it is starting to bore me when it used to anger or amuse me.

Return

Toil bears its fruit at last,

The roundabout really does have an out,

Mad caravels can truly go silent,

The sudden lurch forward may feel violent,

Unexpected certainty in an ocean of doubt,

The way forward out of a stagnant past.

 

One step forward six steps to aft,

Idle hands put to production once again,

But other progress falls by the wayside,

The house is a mess on the inside,

Too long since taking up the pen,

The lack of discipline is truly daft.

 

That new year’s resolution is long broken,

But not devotion to the beloved craft,

Take up that cobwebbed pen once more,

There shall be more poetry to be sure,

Virtue and vice shall the pen draft,

If fortune holds they may be spoken.


Well, I’ve been not writing for over a month. This despicable lack of discipline stops now. Discipline has always been my biggest struggle, but I’m working on it now. Routine will help, and friends to hold me accountable.

Needs to be Said

Bash fash,

Kill commies,

Two sides,

Same coin.

 

Okay Refielders, sorry for the long silence, but rejoice, for I am gainfully employed. Because you’re not sharing links, I have to get a real job pulling parts from a stockroom in a factory. Yes, I’m a tad bit salty, but that’s only because I’d rather be writing poetry and stories for you all day.

Anyway, from the day I went quiet, until right now, things went straight down the crapper. While my Twatter feed has been swirling about the drain, I’ve at least had the benefit of some productive work to do . However, this stupidity has been on my mind this whole while. Clench tightly and assume the positon fellers, I’m about to get philosophical here. What’s happened in Charlottesville should be cast in bronze as a monument to stupidity, or at the very least we ought to take in that dumpster fire of an event and understand everything that happened. First thing to understand is the impetus behind this attempt at political action: the mayor and city council of Charlottesville mad the decision against the wishes of the residents of the city, to remove a statue of Robert E. Lee, the supreme commander of the Confederate forces in the American civil war, and some people took enough umbrage at the blatant attempt to rewrite the history of the United States to go down there and make a fuss about it. While Robert E. Lee had some bad things about him, he was still a human being, who achieved some really important military feats, and did other good and interesting things. By no means was the man a saint, but neither was he a devil, and pretending he was either betrays the ignorance of both sides. Suffice to say, we don’t need to tear down the statues memorializing the defeated Confederates, and we don’t need to demonize the people who are the ancestors of living people today. We can both say that the Confederates were wrong, and respect that they were important to our history at the same time. It’s not that hard. Get a grip.

You’d think that a bunch of racists, national socialists, and the odd historically conscientious yahoos could just have their little rally and holler about how erasing the evidence of the past is the exact opposite of what civilized people do, but no. The city of Charlottesville tried to revoke their permit, and the ACLU had to take them to court in order to secure the right to peaceably assemble for future generations. You more lefties may balk at that but here’s the thing: if you’re not willing to defend the rights of people who you absolutely abhor, then you’re doing rights wrong. Those aren’t rights, those are privileges of the in-group, and that’s what savages do. Good on the ACLU doing the right thing and defending the rights of some racist idiots. I’m not aware of how many attendees were actual racists and how many of them were simply annoyed at the Orwellian attacks against Confederate monuments, but there were enough to be visible. Oh, and by the bye, not all of the racists were waving Confederate battle flags. There were also tons of racists waving the communist flag. News flash, just because it’s white people you hate, doesn’t mean you’re not racist. It kind of makes you the textbook definition of racist.

Speaking of commie dirt-bags, once the park was ringed by violent club-wielding black-clad masked thugs, the rally was suddenly declared unlawful, despite being a permitted event upheld by a federal court. IMAYGINE MOY SHOCK when the cops vamoosed and the commies suddenly started beating the snot out of anything with less melanin than Barak Obummer. This shouldn’t need to be said but, don’t punch Nazis yo. If you’re really too amoral to understand that hitting somebody who’s only saying things you don’t like is bad, then consider how counter-productive it is. Before some dimwit punched Richard Spencer in the back of the head, even the most politically astute individuals had nary a finger flipping clue who the sam-heck he is. Now the knucklehead is a household name. Good job. Also, to those internet geniuses saying, “If the Nazis had been violently opposed in Weimar Germany, maybe they would have been stopped,” pick up a book dunderheads. They were violently opposed, that’s kind of how they gained legitimacy with the public, does that sound familiar? Of course not. Or maybe it does, depending if you have the neurons to fire a synapse in the direction of getting a freaking clue.

And finally, to address the pile of human garbage who drove his car through a crowd of people. Oh look, I just did. Since I hold the position that hitting Nazis is bad yo, I also hold the position that hitting commies is bad yo. Helicopter jokes aside, society works much, much better when we use our words, not our fists. (Look Ma, no cussing.)

Narratives

Through greed and foolish choice,

He was on an unfit boat,

But the truth about him isn’t given voice,

And his corpse is used to change the vote.

 

Through hatred and evil acts,

She prayed in her church,

She wasn’t saved from the attacks,

But to know about her you’d have to search.

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I have seen the juxtaposition of a pair of corpses circulating some of the right-wing accounts I follow.  This image had a profound effect on me, and completely tanked my creative ability for two days.  The reason is that the corpses belong to children.  I hate propigandization of children, and especially of their deaths.  The first child was the little boy who drowned and washed up on the shore of Turkey, and whose death was the impetus for opening the hearts and boarders of Europe, thanks to its wide promulgation by the mainstream media.  The other corpse belongs to a little girl, her blue dress spattered with her own blood, and her head lying on the floor next to her.  She was one of the Christians in Syria who were viciously murdered by the so-called moderate rebels getting US support.  Why did you know about one and not the other?

Cats and Dogs

If you want more cat people in the pet club,

It’s important that we understand what they want,

For instance cats don’t like to go out to walk,

And a game of fetch would make them balk,

While dogs and their owners won’t feel any daunt,

The very invitation to cat people feels a snub.

 

How dare you discriminate against cats,

Cats are not genetically inferior to dogs,

You filthy bigot you’re out of the club,

And your suggestions we’ll be quick to scrub,

Your name is stricken from our logs,

Blame the anti-cat hood among your hats!

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Hey there loyal Refielders I was maybe going to have a nice little introspective poem followed by the exploration of some abstract concept to broaden both of our horizons today, but Google went more nuts than a squirrel with a cocaine addiction in a walnut orchard.  A highly qualified engineer with multiple science degrees and years of successful project management under his belt typed out a well sourced memo detailing some problems he’d identified with the workplace, but seeing as this was in the People’s Republic of Silicon Valley, wrongthink could not be tolerated.  Since he dared to claim that visible diversity for the sake of appearing diverse isn’t actually a moral or economic good, the twitter lynch mob descended on him faster than a fat kid on the last Twinkie in the store.  Even worse, he blasphemed against the doctrine of the big bad boogieman, I mean Patriarchal discrimination keeping women out of management and STEM.  He politely and couched in the softest possible language had the gall to point out the hate fact that personality traits are not evenly distributed among men and women, which might account for at least some of the disparity.  His final sin was the accusation against the Holy Order of Google of being a “progressive” echo chamber, and that they were discriminating against conservatives, and fostering a culture of public shaming for wrongthink.  Despite these obvious deviations from being a decent human being, he’s being accused of saying things quite different to his actual blasphemy!  He’s being called racist, sexist, and accused of saying that women are genetically unfit to work for Google!  If we’re going to burn the witch, let’s at least burn him for the correct witchcraft.