genesis

 

Here we are now

You

and

I

beneath our

broad and

bounteous

sky

our

firmament

of

roaring

stars

on this

fragile

globe

of ours

this realm of fire

and dust

and space

this

elemental

human

race

as far as we

can know

or see

there’s

no one

here

but you

and m...

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Bay 3

 

He would come to her mostly at night. Sloping down the long corridors

of white-tiled darkness. The easy smile, soft words.

A touching of hands. Close and quiet; fixed

in their yellow cone beneath the anglepoise.

 

Some nights her eyes were seastorms. A fury of wind

on black waves. A craze of hot, white lightning

against the pale wash of turquois...

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Just a reminder that voting closes this Friday, so if you haven't already voted . . .

The entries were:

Tigerella Warrior by Laura Taylor - http://www.writeoutloud.net/public/blogentry.php?blogentryid=26019 BE GRATEFUL by M.C. Newberry - http://www.writeoutloud.net/public/blogentry.php?blogentryid=26018 The Berry Bridge by Francine - http://www.writeoutloud.net/public/b...

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Visiting Neil

 

Hello old friend. I’m sorry that it’s been a while.

I can’t pretend that this cold place is easy on the mind.

But nonetheless you’re always there, somewhere,

underneath and in the darkness; thinking through philosophies,

searching out those sparks of why and wherefore

to eternity.

 

Who me? I’ve done OK, The usual, you know - job, house,...

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social

 

They’ve pulled down the village club;

all that’s left’s a stone and plaque to war they said was great.

Starter homes now stand between the one-time shop and pub;

the first grey tentacles perhaps, of yet another sink estate.

In the shadow of the quarry face the limekiln chimney’s long returned to dust

and railway veins to all the world are gone to rot and rus...

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Beyond the Equinox

 

The land sleeps,

furrowed, cold and still.

Each field edge mourns

in widow’s weeds.

The flocks keep silence

on the hill,

while nature weeps

tomorrow’s seeds.

 

Penitent

in golden cloak,

the woodland

whispers overhead

and through the mist,

like incense smoke,

sheds slow confetti

for her dead.

...

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"John"

 

What worlds turn behind your almond eyes, that ready smile,

that childish innocence that lingers long when you are gone?

I feel your warmth through chubby hands and stubby fingers

of a child. You will not make old bones in this cold life

of sticks and stones and superstitious fears. Some careless god

cut short your years; played blackjack with your chromosomes

in a game that ...

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lifelines

 

she sits

she knits

the needles click

as strand by strand

in cracked crabbed hands

each stitch

might haul them

back to land

 

her days, her nights are one, the same -

a gift of darkness borne by grief

to wounds already salted well.

lips taste each quarter

of the wind; she hears the tides

advance, retreat -

as if in echoes from

some  ancient stranded shell.

she feels t...

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  the doomsday man

 

surprisingly enough

each new day finds you

sandwiched here

between Burger king

and vacant lot -

thrice times woe man with

your brimstone smile.

slow dog-paddling

against the apathetic tide

that scours

these caves of Arndale.

your hand a flush

of trump card pamphlets,

useless

in this game

of patience;

black aces of repentance

neatly sidestepped

as the ...

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                           I am element earth and ore,

                   the twinkle in the sawdust floor. I am the brass that’s

              pressed and minted I am the note that’s newly printed. The rattling

                                               change and ringing till, the dirty, dog-eared dollar bill, the jealous         

                        gre...

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