Take It Easy!

If your clothes have disappeared,
If your avie's grown a beard,
If your TPs keep on failing
And your graphics card is ailing,
Just relax and close your eyes,
Imagine you're in paradise.
Linden Labs will take the blame...
Second Life is just a game!

Our presidents, to win our votes
Promise lots of action,
And play “Warcraft” with tanks and troops
In time for next election!
It's just a giant game of Risk
With strategy and fighting,
Plus eloquent oratory
To make it more exciting. So...

If your hair is in your crotch,
If inventory is botched,
If your balance doesn't show
And your lamps have lost their glow,
Take your shoes off and your socks,
Mute th' alarms on all your clocks,
Linden Labs will take the blame...
Second Life is just a game!

If your pastor bashes gays,
If he says you'll go to hell,
He's seeing hookers other days
And paying for the meth they sell,
To see if he can pull it off
Before his buddies ring a bell.
It's just a game of cat and mouse.
--------------(And sheep, as well.)

So, if your notices don't post,
If you “can't connect to host”,
If you're permanently gray
And your audio doesn't play,
If your prims refuse to rez,
If you crash... and crash... and crash...
Lie down low and dream a dream,
Enjoy your strawberries and cream.
Linden Labs will take the blame...
Second Life is just a game!

If you go out with a pretty date
Remember it's all just for fun:
She just wants you to bite the bait
before she hooks another one.
If Cute Guy showers you with praise
Declaring “love for evermore”,
Don't be fooled by his cunning plays:
He just wants to see if he can SCORE!

-----------------Therefore:
If you're permanently gray,
And your audio doesn't play,
And your notices don't post
And you “can't connect to host”
And your balance doesn't show
And your lamps have lost their glow
And your hair is in your crotch
And inventory is botched
And your TPs keep on failing
And your graphics card is ailing
And your clothes have disappeared
And your avie's grown a beard
And your prims refuse to rez
And you crash...
and crash...
and crash...
Turn the music up and chill,
Feed the cat and pay your bills,
Close your eyes and breathe in deep,
Just relax and try to sleep,
Rest your hands and hum a song,
Grid recov'ry won't take long:
Linden Labs will take the blame...
Second Life is just... a... game!

By Catherine Moody's RL alter ego, 2007-5-24.

In Celebration of Faeria

Almighty Lindens! Blessed was the day
and holy place, as we ourselves were blessed,
Where Mykyl Nordwind, fairest of the fae
and mermaid clan, into this world did rez.
O noble Queene, we welcome you today
to grace us with your simple loveliness.

You spent much time to make your dream come true;
Your work bore fruit as Faeria slowly grew.
You labored long and hard on every prim,
You built a pathway right across the sim.
You met adversity at every stage,
Adversity that caused you tears of rage;
Dark days of anguish have you left behind
That I, your humble bard, do call to mind—
Try as you did, you could not get us in:
Casinos, wild with greed, were strangling Huin.
Where others had despaired, you stood your ground,
Gathering an army from around,
To file a stern report of grave abuse,
To call upon the power of the Word.
Your fervent pleas at last the Lindens heard—
The camping chairs in number were reduced!
The battle over, traffic trickled in,
And gradual signs of life returned to Huin.
Not only we, but all your neighbors too,
Professed their heartfelt gratitude to you.
Humble Catherine shall sing your praise,
And all the region echo with hoorays.

A new day dawns. The flowers spread their love,
The sun smiles bright upon the village green;
While butterflies dance breezily above,
Do grateful voices hail their Faerie Queene.
A curious squirr'l observes us from a tree,
A chirping bluejay fills the air with cheer.
A wishing well gives wishes (for a fee!);
A sign proclaims that all are welcome here.
A palace looks on proud, its marble floors
and curtained stage inviting us to dance.
As lovers occupy the cuddle balls
Good Faeria hath her visitors entranced
with scenes of rustic peace upon the walls.
Gentle melodies drift o'er the land,
Born of some unknown composer's smile,
Played by some unseen musician's hand,
Infusing open hearts and open doors;
A penguin, touched, recites a poem, while
from open pages a wingèd spirit soars.

.............................................O pretty Faeria!
The souls that circumstances kept apart,
You bring together. How your mission shines—
A haven for expression of the heart,
A celebration of diversity,
A sanctuary for all creative minds,
A conflux of divine activity.

My friends, let us with one united voice
Renounce the dross of shallow vanity;
In friendship, truth, and love let us rejoice,
The golden warmth of true humanity.

Almighty Lindens! Aid us as we strive
To realize our dreams in Second Life.

Catherine Moody, 2007-5-23.

Nonsense for my friends

I hope to write more complimentary stuff in the future! I love you all.... -Catherine Moody, 2007-5-23

You're a wonderful friend to us, Mykyl,
And I do enjoy hearing you spykyl.
But when you start on mythology
And gossamer-ology,
I'm afraid that to me it's all Grykyl!


On Winning an Imaginary Game of Chess against Alphonsus

Alphonsus Peck! Alphonsus Peck!
Despite your fearsome intellect
And wise grey beard, I do suspect
You're in hot soup up to your neck!
Your pawn formation is a wreck,
Your queen is gone, your king's in check:
It's mate in three. Am I correct?
I'm stopping here, 'cause what the h*** —
There's nothing else that rhymes with "Peck"!


Our dear sister alphaTest03
is a genius at scripting and poetry;
I propose that we vote
alphaTest to promote
To the office of Brotherhood Notary!

Assorted Nonsense

Hamlet to himself said he
in delirious soliloquy:
"Am I to be, or not to be?
Is this a bee I see by me?
A bee? Two bees? ... Or is't just me?
Do bees, too, mock my misery?"


Trochee! trochee! List' to me,
William Blake was fond of thee.
"Tyger, Tyger" starts with three...
Oh, scrap this silly parody!


Wyllyam Blake, he wrote so well,
But I must sai he could not spell.
Nor could he rhime. Have you read hys
"Mercy, Pity, Love and Peace"?


Catherine Moody, 2007-5-23

HelloMultiTool-v6 (hug/kiss/goto/etc)

Of all the things I've seen in life,
The coolest of the cool
Is Jester Spearmann's (version five)
HelloMultiTool.

This small device is pretty neat.
It fits both guys and gals,
It helps you rez a magic seat
To take you to your pals.

If you say "exclamation ping"
And name a nearby friend,
A pretty stream of colored things
To him or her you send.

Or if you're in a jovial mood,
Try "exclamation stand":
Ta-da! You're up on her caput---
I just love that command!

This gadget gives you lightning speed
To fly from place to place.
Be careful with it, or you'll need
a TP back from Space!

But here is why I recommend
the HelloMultiTool:
It lets you hug and kiss your friends!
Aww! Isn't that cool?

Prefabricated feelings in
convenient freebie packs...
I wonder when they'll come up with
prefabricated sex!

Catherine Moody: the story so far

I was born a confused little newbie on Orientation Island. After some pleasant and unpleasant encounters, I found my way to the Shelter in Isabel, and spent many happy days there. But eventually I realized I didn't fit in, that it was not the place for me. The cat that Midel had given me attracted a lot of attention, and maybe that made people jealous, too.

I wandered the vast, empty world in my little red car and my black-and-gold hovercraft, looking for inhabited places, and eventually I came across the B-Dazzled shop --- then in Daikoku --- where I met Loren Fitzgerald, alphatest03 Yohkoh, and FD Spark, camping at the Scramble center.

Scramble was fun. But it felt like an empty pursuit. I signed up as a member of the poetry guild and attended some meetings, where I met mindserfer, Phorkyad Acropolis, and J1mmy Weiland, who were giving out food for the soul.

The classical music group seemed to be dead; but one day someone posted an invitation to the Classical Music Aficionados group and a landmark to her new garden, the "Truth and Beauty Assembly". I decided to visit the garden, and soon I came across its owner, Tyrol Rimbaud. She helped me start a musical career, and with her poetic friend Pat she was thinking of adopting me. But no longer. I must have said or done something wrong. Now, it seems, I'm left out in the world to fend for myself. A little gypsy girl come full circle. It hurts.

I'm lucky that my kind friend FD Spark invited me into the secret Brotherhood of Twisted Prim. Our summer headquarters are a hidden spot for artists to seek refuge in. Yesterday I met a writer, Mykyl Nordwind, who built a cozy little village with a few houses and shops. Maybe it will be another source of warmth and comfort in this journey through life, on the way to that final resting place.

Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
Breath's a ware that will not keep.
Up, [lass]: when the journey's over
There'll be time enough to sleep.
- from "Reveille" from "A Shropshire Lad", A. E. Housman

With grateful acknowledgments also to my loyal friend Cricket Crabe, whom I met at the Shelter; to my dear eccentric Zin and her hangers-on; to Slim Warrior, Anoron Hanson, Celeste Stardust, Tony Bouchard, and Muli Basiat for organizing concerts, and to Ged Larsen, Seeron DeVinna, Desire Jacques, Alphonsus Peck, and Princess Ivory for enthusiastically supporting me; and to all the other people who helped make my life more livable.

C. Moody, 2007-2-20.

Snow

Snowflakes fluttering down from heaven,
shrouding joy and sorrow in clean, white monotony ...
Solace for a while.

Catherine Moody's real life alter ego, 2007-2-15

Club Extreme

I saw them at the Shelter party
A happy snowman, a furry wolf,
a giant cat, an elephant dancing,
Dancing the night away.

I saw the folks at Club Extreme,
Supermen and wonder women
a fantasy of color, pulsating and dancing,
Dancing the night away.

I saw my friends, the Hellbound posse
Rocking and rolling to eighties numbers.
The drums are pounding, and we're all dancing
Dancing the night away.

The bombs rain down, the flames go up,
Children scream and stray dogs whimper.
But the night is young and we carry on dancing,
Dancing our lives away.

Catherine Moody, 2007-2-15

Rez Me

Rez me a sofa, a table and chair,
Rez me a package of long flexi-hair.
Rez me a ball gown of silver and gold
To make Princess Moody a sight to behold.

Rez me a castle high up on a cloud,
Rez me a garden with magic endowed.
Rez me a chamber with pose balls galore
And ban lines and scripted things guarding the door.

Rez me a stallion to carry me quick,
A butler that serves me when on him I click.
Rez me a close friend who's willing to chat,
who loves and consoles me. Or can you not do that?

Catherine Moody, 2007-1-1. Edited 2007-5-11.

For Lizzie

Sometimes you're a princess
Astride a handsome steed,
Sometimes you're a leggy cop
Helping those in need.

Sometimes you're on a frozen lake
On shining silver skates,
Gliding around the silent swans
In graceful figure-eights.

You surprise me with your ever-changing
Clothes, and skin, and hair,
But one thing always stays the same---
For all your friends you care.

Lizzie, I fear my second life
Is drawing to an end.
Before I die, please let me say
Thank you for being my friend!

Catherine Moody, 2006-12-30

Midel's Gift

I know a funny little elf.
His first name is Midel.
He helps out little newbies
at the Shelter, Isabel.

I told him I was lonely.
He said, “Well, here's for you
A tiny little pussy cat
That'll cheer you with its mew.”

The kitten hung suspended in mid-air.
I wondered how
To make her feel at home with me.
At last I got it. Now

She sits upon my shoulder
And meows all night and day.
But still I love her very much---
My kitty's here to stay!