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    TABLE OF CONTENTSRKYV # 6 {November 2007 submissions}

    RKYV ONLINE LOGO - David Marshall {current}

    - Roy G. James {original}

    - Randy Pare {1st

    online adaptation}Virtual Cover # 6

    - art by Matt Hatt

    - layouts by David Marshall

    Editorial Column -

    Pass the Stuffing - R.J. Pare

    Interior Art -

    pieces by Belinda Da Fonseca

    pieces by Marc Ngui

    pieces by Kelly Carusi

    pieces by Leyla Sabahpieces by Mamdouh Yousef

    pieces by Robert Quint

    pieces by Rodney Mercer

    pieces by Santiago James

    pieces by Sherril Anne Tucker

    Poetry -

    Sinners Child - by Larissa Gula

    Meaningless Jibber Jabber

    - by Mandie Fortin

    Annas Poems - by Anna Gehmacher

    Pares poetic Perspectives

    - by R.J. Pare

    Long Fiction -

    Those Who Stood... Those Who Fell...

    - by R.J. Pare

    Family Life -Cook Book for Working Families &

    My Journal - by Mandie Fortin

    Pop Culture -

    Raised on Saturday Morning Cartoons

    - by Pauline Pare

    In My Opinion... - by R.J. Pare

    A Dream of Good - by Belinda Da Fonseca

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    JAMMED 2006 sergisinden - by Leyla Sabah

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    Pass the StuffingLetter from the Editor

    {Nov. 28} Time management. Also known as "crunch time" or for all of our students"cramming". Here's the thing, your parents and teachers were right. If ya do the job a little at a

    time then ya don't run the risk of missing deadlines due to an overload of last minute work.

    But where's the fun in that?

    Me, I work best under pressure. My home is always tidiest 2 minutes prior to company coming

    over. My tasks at work are completed "just in time" and I swear each and every month this

    magazine must get finished by gremlins while I fall asleep... eyes exhausted with my head on the

    keyboard. Ya know something? The little buggers do a decent job too. Though any editing errors

    can be completely blamed on them. They sneer at spellcheck and shake their scaly fists at proof

    reading. I hope that everyone is enjoying the ride so far. I encourage you all to create when everthe urge strikes... try not to depend on the gremlins too much... there's already too many people

    waiting their last minute services..:)

    We, at RKYV ONLINE, are still looking for more regular columnists. If ya got something to

    say... then step up and get on yer soapbox! We are all ears... The snappy cover to this month's

    issue was delivered by the talented Matt Hatt and the always dependable David Marshall... take a

    bow guys... you rock!

    Until next month and the Holidays, I remain...

    R.J. Pare, E.I.C. - RKYV ONLINE

    Mural at Met Hospital Pediatric Examining Room - by Sherril Anne Tucker

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    Gallery Art

    Jay - Z - by Santiago JamesThor vs Spider Man - by Santiago James

    Untitled - by Robert Quint

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    Cello Song - by Rodney Mercer My Son and I - by Belinda Da Fonseca

    Mural on Maiden Lane - by Sherril Anne

    TuckerUntitled - by Robert Quint

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    Childrens Furniture - by Sherril Anne Tucker

    Untitled - by Rodney Mercer Untitled - by Rodney Mercer

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    Cover to iTV - book by David Rose

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    PoetrySinners Child - by Larissa GulaFallen angel and phoenixs child

    It bursts from the fire with molten wingsAnd fangs dripping down from its beak

    Without support, the wings bend, collapse,

    Move in the still wind to become Deaths door.

    Bloody walls are its prison;

    Elaborate shapes that spell out the names

    Of ancient Gods

    And commands

    Trap it in one flame.

    To be trapped in this form

    Never dead, never revived, frozen

    Amidst the flame that carves its body

    To never know the warmth of sun

    The chill of stars

    The contented sleep

    Is the price to be paid, the debt owed

    When the creators break the master laws

    And the creation is rejected

    As unholy.

    Not accepted in Heaven or Hell

    Not on Earth,

    Or Saturns rings

    For the youth of sinners are

    Mortal nightmares.

    2) Childs Play

    To journey as no one but yourself

    Is the miracle we all seek unknowingly, unconsciously.

    For as ourselves the animal fury is ripped away,

    Untitled - by Belinda Da Fonseca

    Hand Painted field stone - by Sherril Anne

    Tucker

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    Untouchable, unwanted.

    A kiss means nothing more

    Then I love you there is

    No lust for skin at play.

    The hand to hold never pulls away

    Never slaps in reprovalOr drunken rage.

    Every step

    Is your adventure for the day

    Through grassy hills

    The dragons cave

    The snowy mountains a knights sword

    Hides inside, waiting for hands to seek its hilt.

    Every dream

    Is a feather on silver wingsThe carry you over clear salty waves.

    The only doubt

    Is yourself, in the lost way that comes upon

    The growing.

    Once the doubt comes

    You will know

    That the journey is over

    Fields, caves, mountains,Knights ancient blades all

    Disappear

    In realitys

    Hideous game.

    3) Dance Little Red Wings

    Graveyard fog and trees alike

    Only rise when the dead fall.

    And around the streetlamp

    That serves as the fading moon

    Dance little red wings

    Butterflies breathe

    With the living below

    Who sleep soundly

    Or in mourning

    Some terrified of the ground

    Others wishing for a poison

    To just guide them to it, now.

    For all of them

    The butterflies dance -

    The single display of colour

    Before the orange dawn.

    Then yellow flowers emerge

    Among the green of mown grass

    There to remind the world

    That where there are fallen

    Are the rising.

    Untitled - by Rodney Mercer

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    Meaningless Jibber Jabber - by Mandie FortinEngines rumbling, scraping and crunching.

    The snow piling up as the plows

    disturb the beautiful glitter of fresh fallen snow.

    People attempt climbing the piles of dirtand frozen rain

    that crystalized into individual flakes

    before joining others on the ground.

    The geese all gone now

    onto their warm vacation spots.

    If only to fly freely.

    Children bundling up in thick snow suits

    only to need to go to the washroom afterwards.

    Snowball fights, snow persons,

    forts and castles built from the creative mindof the young and free.

    Winter has finally come.

    Christmas lights glittering on homes,

    hanging from balcony's and reminding you

    Christmas is around the corner.

    What is the true meaning of Christmas,

    it's almost forgotten

    with attempts of others to change it

    for their own beliefs.

    Someone died for our sins,

    have you forgotten that?

    People complain about tacky decorations,

    lining the ceiling of an almost empty mall.

    It's not about the decorations.

    It's about families, love, sharing, giving,

    remembering and being alive.

    It's about festivities,

    children's laughter and thinking

    of loved ones lost.

    This is my first Christmas

    without my Nana.

    What a painful thought.

    I know she's always with me,

    I talk to her from time to time and she always replies.

    Mural on Maiden Lane - by Sherril Anne

    Tucker

    Untitled - by Rodney Mercer

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    The heart is always connected

    to those you've lost,

    even if you don't believe.

    If you do believe,

    you'll hear their voices,not by ear

    but

    by

    soul.

    Don't forget the ones you love,

    they are always with you.

    Love them and invite them

    to join you this Christmas

    for they have invited you

    Christmas' past.

    Annas Poems - by Anna Gehmacher

    Ervino, you fucker, why don't you grow up?You kissed me, you hugged me, and now what?

    It didn't work, the time wasn't right,

    but does that mean there'll never be another night?

    Things might've gone wrong,

    there's no need to say

    it was a bit awkward

    saying bye to you the next day.

    But so what, nobody cares about that now,

    that was too long ago,

    no need for everyone to know.

    Ervino, you 'lil kid, why can't you look me in the eyes?

    Act like a man,

    and stop telling me so many lies,

    think of another plan

    Luka - by Belinda Da Fonseca

    Half Awake with the Succubus -

    by Rodney Mercer

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    I know you don't like me,

    that's needless to say,

    but why can't you treat me

    as if everything were okay?

    I'm over you baby, although it did take some time,'cause that one night was so fine

    but I accept that you will never be mine.

    Ervino, my lover, why don't you treat me

    the way you should,

    I never did you any wrong,

    I was being nice all along,

    you were the one with the bad mood.

    You're acting so childish

    over something so minutewhich once was my wish

    and eventually came true.

    It was fun at the time,

    you acting like you were mine,

    us two together, it could've been so fine.

    Ervino, you idiot,

    I'm laughing at you now,

    'cause some time from now you'll look back and frown

    about everything you could've hadbut decided to leave out

    Untitled litho prints - by Belinda Da Fonseca

    Untitled - by Rodney Mercer

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    Pares Poetic Perspectives - by R.J. Pare

    Casino GraveI get up at midnight and get ready

    Shit, shower, shave and brush them pearly whitesNeed my caffeine fix so my hands steady

    Bleary, dreary, eyes from working those nights

    Hurried driving seeing by the road lights

    I got to try and get to work on time

    Cant be distracted by the city sites

    The boss gets pissed thinks tardys a crime

    Crazy, long, hard, working thru sleepless nights

    A mans body feels this hours just a crime

    Pay the bills; keep out ofcollections sites

    Familys fine, while Im on Grave Yard time

    The customers form a constant steady

    Flow, pushing, crowd and jostle till it fights

    Throw away money losing and ready

    Badly, sadly, blind from selling their rights

    Buried heads in sand from a deal that bites

    Over the noise talking is apantomime

    Growing tense and angry they perceive sleights

    In each moment of every losing dime

    Crazy, long, hard, working thru sleepless nightsA mans body feels this hoursjust a crime

    Pay the bills; keep out ofcollections sites

    Familys fine, while Im on Grave Yardtime

    Kind of funny, kind of sad

    We revel in what were taught was bad

    Mostly foolish, mostly fools

    Elmer Fudd shh while hunting jackpots drools

    Sort of tragic, sort of damnedThe craven one-arm junkies danced

    The Marks That Trace Our Lives {progress} -

    by Kelly Carusi

    The Marks That Trace Our Lives {matrix}

    - by Kelly Carusi

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    Familys fine, while Im on Grave Yard time

    Its not my money being lost

    Familys fine, while Im on Grave Yard time

    Can someone tell me whats the cost?

    Theyre still up at midnight; still not readyShower; scrub hard to brush away the stains

    No caffeine can help guilty hands steady

    Dreary, weary, souls from this dance that drains

    Star-eyed gamblers trancing carnival lights

    Dont recognize the atmosphere as strife

    They have been distracted by the deals sleights

    Just playing Three Card Monte with their life

    Crazy, long, hard, working thru sleepless nights

    A mans body feels this hours just a crime

    Pay the bills; keep out of collections sitesFamilys fine, while Im on Grave Yard time

    Familys fine, while Im on Grave Yard time

    Its not my money being lost

    Familys fine, while Im on Grave Yard time

    Can someone tell me whats the cost?

    Untitled - by Robert Quint

    Ayisiginda DENGE ISTANBUL 2007 - by Leyla Sabah

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    Long Fiction...weeks ago...

    The young Raven Ten watches the world go by. At least, he watches that part of the world

    visible from the window of the train. Counting the telephone poles lost its novelty hours ago.

    Now the young man just watches the blurs that are the southern States race past his busy mind.

    Raven searches for that contemplative center struggling against his own fears.

    Some hero I would make, Raven silently chides himself afraid to leave mama and papa.

    Raven had never been beyond the familiar confines of Palo Alto though. His young mind had

    trouble coming to grips with travelling more than a thousand miles from home. Could he do this?

    Should he let more people know his secret?

    I suppose it does not matter... he says sombrely.

    Whats that my boy? the congressman, seated next to Raven, questions.

    If I were to refuse your invitation sir, the young Mr. Tens voice takes on a darker tone would

    any of you try to stop me?

    The power of the dragon, the ability to instill fear in his enemies, begins to surge to the

    surface. Raven does not, in truth, harbour any ill-will towards the man... well except for that

    general dislike most people have for politicians... but using his power is so much easier than

    dealing with his own fears and insecurities.

    S-s-stop this!! The dark suited republican manages before the fear begins to paralyse him.

    Raven swallows hard. His father would be disappointed in him. The Tens were a family that

    held strong belief inservice... not just to ones job-place... but to ones family and loved ones; to

    the community and to the country in which they live. They had served in every capacity a young

    nation would let them. Generations of Tens living by the belief that the best way to overcome

    prejudice... to earn equal rights... was to become a respected functioning part of society. There

    were many Asian communities along the west coast. Palo Alto itself had a fairly good sized

    Chinatown but his papa would have nothing to do with it.

    His father wanted the Tens to be a part of society, not separated from it.

    One day your son, or your grand-son, his father would tell him could become the President!!

    the older Tens face would beam with anticipated pride at this. Raven, personally, had his doubts.

    There were so many places in this land that did not want anyone who wasnt lily-white or spoke

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    with even the hint of an accent. Raven sighs. He will never know if he doesnt try though and this

    man just wants to give me an opportunity to do just that. He pulls the essence of the dragon back

    within him.

    I must apologize kind sir, Raven looks at the relieved middle aged man in the now sweaty suit

    I have allowed my own discomfort at being so far from home to cause you distress... pleaseforgive me.

    Th-thats quite alright, Raven the congressman lets out a suppressed breath I know youre a

    good kid, after all ya saved my life, right?

    Raven had worried if using his ability in public would have consequences. When the

    congressmans aides had shown up on his familys doorstep afterwards... wanting to extend the

    mans gratitude... Ravens father smiled from ear to ear. When the congressman later suggested a

    program he could get young Raven into... One in which special people with special abilities

    couldserve the greater good... Papa Ten volunteered his son just like that.

    And, just like that I am travelling into the unknown. Raven admits to himself ominously.

    When the train stopped at Parris Island Raven and the congressman disembarked.

    Dont worry my boy, the now confident republican pats Raven on the back. You are doing

    your country a great service!

    Ya, a gruff voice says from behind them well see about that. First I have to see what kind of

    soldier I can make out of you.

    Raven turns to see a weathered old sergeant wearing an outdated cavalry hat staring at himwith his arms crossed.

    I am Raven Ten sir, the young man proceeds to introduce himself.

    DONT CALL ME SIR! the sergeant interrupts I work for a living. Devereaux Kane smiles

    to himself... in all the years of drilling newbies... that ones always a good line.

    You just might be of use to Uncle Sam soldier! Kane says looking at the young man, now

    trying his best to stand upright and at attention but for the next six weeks, yer sorry ass is mine!

    Raven, not for the first time, wonders what he got himself into.

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    I am My Own Prize Winning Animal - by Marc Ngui

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    Family Life~Cook Book For Working Families~ - by Mandie Fortin

    Christmas Hot Cocoa

    Next time you have a family gathering and you want to treat them to a festive hot coco, try doing

    this, you're guests will love you for it.

    After filling a mug with creamy hot coco, add a drop or two of Club House Pure Mint &

    Peppermint Extract. Not too much or it will be too over powering and no one will drink it.

    Top it off with whipped cream and break candy canes into tiny pieces (crush them) and sprinkle

    the candy cane on top of the whipped cream. Mmmmm

    If you like to be extremely festive, stick a mint sprig into the whipped cream for added decoration.

    If you've evereaten french and frosted mint ice cream from Laura Secord, it's like drinking it inhot chocolate form. Enjoy! I am addicted.

    (I got the candy cane idea from Tim Horton's, their newest holiday treats are the candy cane

    donut, which is awesome might I add and candy cane on the hot chocolate, I like that idea)

    Untitled - by Mamdouh Yousef

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    My Journal - by Mandie Fortin

    {Nov. 29} Children are miraculous little critters aren't they? Nose picking, mess making,

    carpet monkeys. One minute you find them sitting peacefully on the livingroom floor building

    towers with building blocks and playing with dolls, the next minute they are in tornado mode.

    Just the other night our darling little Victoria, a beautiful 7 year old young lady was jumping upand down like a mad woman in our livingroom, her hair flying, her face scrunched up in a scowl

    and her temper flaring.

    It was actually a funny sight to see but we couldn't figure out what was setting her off. We

    scooted her off to bed, settled her down and sat back down to recover from her rampage of

    frustration. With a quick glance out the livingroom window it became clear as to why she was

    acting like a wild animal. It turned out that there was a full moon that night and it was obvious

    that our little angel had turned into a werewolf for the moment.

    Children truly are a gift from God, unfortunately some people can't find the humour in the games

    children play. You have to realize that the walls, doors and even mattresses to children are giant

    art canvas for them to express their creative side. They don't draw on these surfaces to anger you,

    they just want to show you that their art work is a masterpiece and it looks better than a plain

    beige wall.

    When my 4 year old son is in thebathroom for more than a minute and the door is shut, it's

    almost guaranteed that at least 2 full rolls of toilet paperare going to be clogging the toilet and

    that I have to act fast. With plungerin handI stand before the toilet, white tissue floating in the

    quickly filling porcelain bowl, I begin to laugh. It does looklike fun to do. His explanation: "I'm

    making paper towels."

    "You make paper towels in the toilet using toilet paper?" I ask him.

    "Yes. See." He says pointing to the mushy mess.

    An Old Arabic Jar - by Mamdouh Yousef

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    Makes you think twice about purchasing paper towels. Doesn't it?

    I've come to realize that no matter where you put your chocolates, cookies and other sugar filled

    goodies a child has a homing device on them. They know where you've hidden them and they

    will stop at nothing to get their hands on them. I will walk into my kitchen finding my children

    hanging from cupboards, hands in drawers and goofy, 'oops, I'm busted' looks on their faces.You'll see the same thing at the zoo if you stand in front of the monkey cage. Sometimes your

    children will flash their butts at you with a laugh, just like monkey's do. A child is proof as to

    where man originated from.

    Recently our little monkeys, I mean darlings spent the night with their grandmamma and

    grandpapa. When they were returned home the next day I was told that our son had been a bit of

    a bugger. He was in the middle of being told off when he looked up at his grandmamma with his

    big dark brown eyes and said, "Grandmamma, you're beautiful." Then with a quick response he

    looked at Grandpapa and said, "And you're handsome." How can you stay mad at that little boy

    when he knows exactly how to sweet talk you into submission?

    You know what is so wonderful about children? When they look at you and say something like,

    "I love you" or "I thank God you're my mommy", it melts your heart. It shows that without the

    love of a child, you've got nothing.

    So when your child draws on your walls, over flows the toilet with toilet paper rolls, climbs your

    counters for goodies or jumps on the bed.....remember, they are only monkey's that are having

    fun and trying to impress you, get your attention and express their love in ways they know how

    to. Just make sure you have a plunger, Mr. Clean Magic Erasers and locks on your cupboards. It

    sure beats yelling at them.

    A Traditional Old Arabic House - by Mamdouh Yousef

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    Pop CultureRaised On Saturday Morning Cartoons - by Pauline Harren Pare

    I find it so hard to believe that something so

    groundbreaking as television once was, is nowfinding it difficult to keep up with the times.

    The ratings system is completely outmoded and

    has led to the untimely demise of more than one

    good program. The days of people clearing their

    schedules to watch a television show in it's

    prime-time timeslot is fading fast. We now have

    time-shift, PVRs, full season DVDs and we can

    download full episodes from the internet.

    Viewing a show in any of these ways does not

    give you a vote in a shows ratings, however.

    Television seems to making an attempt to

    adjust, but certainly not at the speed of thechanges. The writer's strike is a good example of

    this. I don't know of every issue in this strike but

    the writer's are trying to get a percentage of

    DVD revenues which is a newer phenomenon

    for series television.

    I hope that these issues can be resolved in the

    future and I wish the writer's luck in their

    current endeavour. I am starting to miss some of

    my favourite shows and I fear for newer series

    that could be cancelled as a result.

    Silver Surfer - by Santiago James

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    In My Opinion... - by R.J. Pare

    So, the TV season is dying. The writer's strike is taking its toll as one program after another

    begins to go into "hiatus".

    With these frustrating developments in mind. The wife and I watched the 2 hour prequel TV film"RAZOR" from Battlestar Galactica. If you have not seen the previous seasons of this brilliant re-

    imagining and/or are unfamiliar with the original series here is the basic premise.

    Humans live in 12 planetary colonies. They develop AI machines to do their work for them. The

    machines become sentient and rebel, and since slavery is unappealing to any sentient being... they

    wage war.

    Now, in the bygone days of polyester suits and disco... this was a VERY cheesy TV show... with

    a low budget. But, oddly, a loyal fan following... go figure...:)

    Hendrix - by Sherril Anne Tucker Faux Marble - by Sherril Anne Tucker

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    So, now onto the modern series... not a RE-MAKE but a RE-IMAGINING... they took the

    original premise... better acting and production values.. and a commitment to modern script-

    writing techniques that emphasize PACING. The show became a serialized drama on par with

    24, LOST or HEROES.

    The show is engaging and often challenging ethically when it comes to the actions of the maincharacters {I refuse to use the term Heroes or Villains since the show is full of desperate

    characters who will do anything to survive be they human or cylon}.

    Now this prequel covers some of the more abominable actions characters took, during the early

    days of the war, in their battle to survive. Actions that were hinted at in the weekly series, are

    now explored more fully here. It is hard not to make the symbolic connection/reflection of the

    current geo-political conflicts in the world with this show. It is very brutally honest in its

    portrayal of human nature... the nature of any being when faced with a dire threat.

    "What would we do?" We ask ourselves that each night when we watch CNN... and you will ask

    ourselves that each week watching Battlestar Galactica. The question shouldn't be ... "whatwould we do?" Such a question is flawed...

    Whether a person is fighting for their lives in a faraway desert... or in the vastness of space... we

    cannot presume to know how we would handle a situation if we were there... facing the same

    threats... feeling the same fears.

    This is the divisive reality we live in.

    This is the compelling basis for effective, entertaining and thought provoking fictional drama.

    This is why you should watch Battlestar Galactica. This is why you should watch its powerfulfilm.... RAZOR