Beyond Words

The perfumed garden
Smudged glasses perched on nose
Paisley-pink passion
With warmth and understanding
A well-thumbed book that falls open
On a pertinent page
     Virginia Woolf

In search of the truth
The truth cannot be found in broken images
The cracked reflection
Lonely in a crowd
The silver breast-plate
Invisible but present
     Virginia Woolf

Waking up from the dream
The poor boy drowns in her arms
Strangled in seaweed
The cracked reflection
Weary, heartfelt and true

Toes curled
In the dark wet
Deafening silence
     Virginia Woolf

The copyright of this blog belongs to Claudia Anne, Terry and Teresa 

The Star and the Satellite

The star awoke one night ready to glint in the heavens, secure in his place in the firmament.
"Look at me, here I am, nights light with my burning core. I am confident. I am suave. Watch me as I wink at you brazenly through night's curtain, watching you when you think you are alone. I see your private moments and know you want me. I am the beauty that you wish upon."
But on this night as he gazed about his celestial brothers and sisters he found a new prick in the firmament. A man-made shimmering object that did not blink but stared with the open eye of a God. It seemed dazed, surprised at its own existence, not knowing of its own birth or creation as stars do. Its capsule form adorned with grated wings absorbing energy from the sun in osmotic ignorance.
How could the star envy such a creature as this. His life was not threatened. This object had no power of its own, it was a parasite of the sun. It had no burning heart, no brilliance, no life force, no pride in its time and place in the galaxies. It was an overrated ogre hanging in space, its life abbreviated by man's changing desires and the limits of his hardware. This satelite was no celestial being.
And yet, he had appeared unbidden and portentous in the sky, an extra unblinking button on Orion's Belt. Children would stare up enchanted and unknowing at the firmament wishing on this most constant of stars.
"Daddy, what's that one? It is so bright."
"That is a satelite, see how its light is constant."
Constancy, dependability: prized above all else by children craving stability in the tumultuous lives they lead. They do not know it is wrong to wish on space hardware thus the star is put firmly in his place.
The star bows in the orange light of morning to the satelite still shining. He knows he can have no satisfaction in dialling with one such as this and turns away chivalrously
"I will burn forever in the firmament but for now you have the stage."

The copyright of this post belongs to Holly Khan

Complete

Complete in itself yet fractured, splintering light, reflecting this realm of nothingness, of dream work.
Your destruction reveals the archaeology of your heart – fury veined like a green and lilac bubble, serenity drawing the line and moving on.
Quantum clouds of chromophores drift quietly through the planes and interstitials of your imperfect jagged form. Dragged from the earth – yet you behave in accordance, do no harm.
Your flawed clarity keeps its secrets, reveals nothing; says ‘Just make a wish!’

The copyright of this post belongs to Clare Elstow

The Light

In space, stars collide, expand, implode. I am the light, I am truth, I am knowledge. I am held, a kernel at the centre of all things, at the molten heart of the earth. My journey begins.
I worm my way from core to mantle and come to rest on scorching sands beneath innumerable moons where I watch the march of stars, the paths of heaven, understanding love, truth, beauty: the eternal trilogy.
It was here, in the dunes, that I was found by the Jin of the dessert who was filled with wonder and fear at what he saw in me. In his limited wisdom he saw fit to hide me from the world in a gold filigree box, afraid of man turning my power to his own purpose. If his mind had not been clouded with sandstorms and desert desires I could have shown him that mankind already held me at his heart, as all matter did. Man had always been free to chose his own path. But like mankind, the Jin's mind's eye was stubbornly closed and double lidded like the camel that bore him, so he used his magic to bury me in a cavernous cathedral beneath the sands where no mischief could find me.
I glowed quietly beneath the sand, biding my time imparting my truths to the pillars of earth. I leaked in to the soil, feeding the plants that grew from their richness and in turn to the animals that fed on them. The creatures of the earth understood by this that their was a balance to all things, a reason and a purpose for everything.
But then came the rise of men. Some men understood the balance, the laws of nature. Their hearts were open. They knew that from the lowliest insect to the leviathans of the sea all were equal, born of Matter and returned to Matter. They respected the path and did not seek to own or rule with a power imagined for themselves. But the others, the majority of men, sought power, land and sovereignty to inflate their vanity, believing themselves more important than the other creatures of the earth. They waged war on each other to prove their superiority, heedless of the damage. They enslaved first animals to their will and then other men. But what ever they gained they were never satisfied. Blinded by greed, not realising they were straying further from the true path they blundered on causing unimaginable destruction.
The Jin saw. He could not hide in the shade beneath his date palm oblivious to the progression any longer. He put his head in the sand and called for me.
"Truth! Knowledge! Come Forth and turn the tide of men from their own destruction." Such was the Jin's magic I could not reveal myself to him, so I whispered to him through the wind.
"Find a man of power to bring together the elements. Do this and the way back to me will be made clear. Bring with him another, a man of pure heart, for only he will hold the key to my
release." The Jin did as I asked and whispered honeyed words in the ear of the Kings Vizier and sewed a seed of desire at his breast that swelled with every greedy breath. Unknown riches would be his if only he sought the cave that held the Heart of all Matter. Imagining chests of gold and the power to manipulate all men to his own desires he wasted no time in bringing together the elements. Finding a man of pure heart was more of a challenge to him as his mind had been poisoned by greed and manipulation for so long that he could not see that a diamond was still a diamond even in the rough, but after many days, and some help from the Jin it was accomplished.
Today they came to me. And the Jin whispered again to the Vizier, "Seek only the lamp and you shall prove that you are worthy of the treasure it holds." It was a trick of course, to give the Vizier one last chance to see if he was worthy. But he was not.
The elements were roused; water washed along the dry river bed for the sun to bake a dry path then the winds blew the dunes apart revealing a hidden door to enter the cave. The door was of heavy stone and carved with many cuneiform symbols. The Vizier tried many words of power and a great deal of brute strength to unlock it as the Jin looked on smiling to himself. Then the boy, curious about the symbols, laid his hand on the door and it unlocked and swung open at his touch. At this the Vizier remembered the Jin's words and saw that the prophecy must be true. Hungry and lustful for the riches that were to come his way the Vizier instructed the boy to fetch the lamp. The boy was simple and willing with no device or cunning and did as he was asked. He brought the lamp to the Vizier who snatched it from him throwing the boy back in to the cave as it's door disappeared into the shifting dunes. As the Vizier watched the door disappear the lamp turned to ash in his hand and he yelled in anger and stamped his feet upon the earth. I kept my word though, he received the unknown riches he so deserved: I unlocked the door to his deepest mind and relit the spark there. Humility, love, a thirst for knowledge, generosity, kindness and thoughtful curiosity, gifts that had been previously lost to him were all open to him once more.
And what of the boy? My voice led him to the filigree box that I had called home all these years. I shone brightly from within it making a display of dissonant stars on the walls and roof of the cave.
He picked up the box with tender curiosity and caressed the years of dust from the lid and as he did so the Jin appeared by his side.
"You are a rare boy with an open heart. I was afraid for mankind but I see in you a hope I could not have dreamed of. This is the light of the world, of knowledge. It can show mankind the way. I wish of you three things: take it into the world, be guided by it and let it be seen by others. Man has been lead by greed and envy for too long, he must be shown the light. Will you do this?"
"But who will listen to me," said the boy, afraid, "I am no-one."
"You are everything. If you carry the light, you carry the hope of salvation with you. You are Salah al Din, righteousness of faith. Let the light shine from within you, and all who have good sense and seek truth will know this is the way. Will you be the vessel?"
"I will try" said the boy.
So the Jin released me from the cave of wonders to take root in the boy's heart, shine from his eyes and pour golden truths from his lips that all men could find the path of light, of truth and knowledge. I reside still in the hearts of men to show them the true path if only they will take heed. The boy, Salah al Din, returned to dust in time but his story lives on in the legend of Aladdin.

The copyright of this post belongs to Holly Khan

Ready

Ready
On this day of happiness- you with your beautiful spiky hair, forged paperwork, the taste of spunk in your mouth: me in my cotton dress and crinoline petticoat, looking like something out of the “Sound of Music”. We are ready to catch the moon. You tease me by whistling a tune I know must be significant as you wink at me & then you lose the sound as you cannot smile & whistle at the same time. What is that tune? Suddenly I know- “Raindrops on Roses & whiskers on kittens”. You ask me to lean against the crenulated wall so you can take my photo. You catch me with the sun filtering through my long corkscrew curly red hair- my halo, you say. You love my hair. You say it’s the craziest thing about me- the only crazy thing about me. You do not understand how bendable I am. Some things we cannot see. You cannot see that I want to be spanked like you are spanked. I don’t want “Bella, Bella”. I want something wilder. I want to do the Buddha dance, to shake off the sadness. I don’t care about the spill of birdsong on a summer evening. I look at the bruised tinfoil dish, a fisheye in the sky. Can you equip me with what I need so I can be your equal on this equinox? Show me the way to your dangerous world.



The Journey
Show me the way to your dangerous world. I am ready. You found me as I stood on the edge of the rocks. I was hypnotised by the waves crashing on the umber rocks at sunset, sending spray into crystal sparks. I stood there- my euro railcard ticket & my last £40 gone. All I owned was the clothes I was wearing. You approached me cautiously and gently asked my name. The spell of the sea was broken and what I had been about to do escaped from me. “Esther”, I whispered. I was unaware that you already knew who I was, that the course of my life was about to change. I know now of course what it is to love a thief. The first night you took me through the curtained doorway, unknown secrets within. The very beautiful Juliet Wilderness was sitting at a little table- a kind of makeshift reception. She smiled graciously as you introduced us. “We need to think of another name for you”, she said as she reached under the table and fitted a plastic foot over her stump as if she were doing something very ordinary like putting on boots. She took us through a courtyard to a little salon at the other side of the building. I caught a glimpse of a pale naked body catching the last of the light of day as the sun disappeared in the tree growing tall in this open courtyard. Where had you brought me I wanted to ask, and yet deep down I knew. We entered a dark room and you introduced me to John Good, the son of a preacher man who most certainly did not live up to his name. He would help teach me my craft. He spoke in riddles. “There is treasure hidden in the cave”, he said as he dipped the fingers of one hand into a pot of golden liquid, his other hand expertly undoing my buttons.”Honey can be used for many things”, he said. I heard the clink of metal like the sound of keys clanking together. “A ring is many sized,” he said. I was not to know at that stage that I was there to replace Sally Mustard, the wild hot tardy girl who was trying to banish old age. For me at that moment I was only grateful. He held my face in his hands and said “Thank the Lord God for this day of happiness”. The journey had begun.




Advice from your mother
If I were you I would keep your hand on your ha’penny. You’ll make a good farmers wife one day. You’re always busy and nothing ever tires you. You’ll not be one of those exhausted mothers, children hungry, babies screaming and not able to cope with it all. Now pass me that lantern and stop looking at yourself- you are beautiful but we need to get going- it’s off to work we go. I wouldn’t wear that necklace if I were you, though. When we go out, I don’t want you to listen to any man who says “I am your brother”, or tries to entice you into his shop of aromatic spices, or one who asks, “How is your complexion?” These are sorcerers and tricksters. You must listen for the man who is whispering to himself, “It is the hour to pray,” the man who is always composed. This is a good man. If he has land, this is even better. Do not wait for the moment when the birds fall silent. This is too long. We must match you when you are in your prime. So- as I say- it is off to work we go. We must display you if we are to find a good husband but you do not need expensive creams for your face or fancy necklaces. We must take care with what little we have and use it wisely to our own

The copyright of these three pieces belongs to Jean Durrand

A Day of Happiness

On this day of happiness the crinoline skirt entered the room. It was so vast the chocolate man melted leaving a puddle on the floor. The white skinned, black haired twins, with their impeccable coifs, dicky bows and white shirts crawled on all fours to lap at the chocolate, like dogs at a puddle, revelling in the moment. A spiky cackle burst forth, fearful, passionate, anarchic with malice, as the witch stepped forward. A halo of red dust fizzed like crazy over her head.
‘Bella!’ she exclaimed.
Bella the beautiful turned slowly, swishing her wide skirt round. She was equal to the witch, or better than, as she had no need to achieve reflected glory. Her glowing face promised new life for the coming times. The twins, Spank and Spunk, paused in their greedy licking and looked up, two identical faces happy at the promise of a battle.
Bella arced her arm and tears fell from the glass domed ceiling. The dancers stopped to kiss each other in the warm rain, equipping themselves with happiness for what would be. Nobody knew what would come to pass at this moment, this equinox of light and life. The tick-tock of each of their beings was a metronome pushing its way through space into the unknown.
The crinoline lifted to form perfect crenulations and out poured an army of dwarves waving spades.
‘We dig to reach victory,’ they cried as one, rushing at the witch.
Sensing defeat her halo wobbled and flew away in a v of dust.
‘Bend,’ shouted Bella, ‘or break.’
‘I am not bendable,’ the witch retorted, snapping into two pieces, which took flight shattering the glass ceiling as they escaped. Surrounded by the red dust they flew away like woody, winged sticks flying into the setting sun of a hot horizon.
With a noise like the crack of thunder the glass fell from the atrium roof in rainbow sparkles. Bella muttered a softening spell so the shards were transformed to melting ice. She turned to Constantine Merryman, who was sandwiched between the twins, a bright spot of purple velvet, between their dark towers.
‘Go,’ she said. ‘Quickly find me the blue book which holds the golden story.’
Before he hurried away One Eyed Melvin, the witch’s’ cat, guffawed loudly.
‘Ha, ha, all the magic is held within the halo. You don’t stand a chance, she will be back.’
Bella beckoned. From behind Spank and Spunk came Epsilon and Cosima. Epsilon glowed as brightly as a shimmery, glimmery star forcing the twins to don their Raybans. Cosima spoke first but her voice was so soft the air swallowed it whole. Epsilon spoke for them both.
‘There is always magic. Mystery is a life force. Our happiness is within us. Look for the mirror within mirrors, step inside and retrieve the magnifying glass, for there lies the book hidden in the frayed pouch. Bring it to Bella.’
‘Be quick,’ urged Bella, ‘for this is an inside out house with eyes on every window.’
Constantine darted off on his mission. Slow music started up to embrace those waiting on the ballroom floor. They clung to each other tightly, soft lips meeting in a gesture of solace. All, except the twins, who were tainted by theft. They jumped in and out of the puddle of chocolate,
laughing ecstatically, unconcerned while chocolate splattered up their carefully creased trousers. One Eyed Melvin nipped between the dancers causing chaos as they tripped and parted from each other. Particles of red dust dropped through the hole in the ceiling and One Eyed Melvin mewed with satisfaction.
Bella was on the point of tipping her crinoline in another direction, to summon further aid, when Constantine returned blue book in hand.
She began to read and the red dust bent its head to listen…
‘Once upon a time on this day of happiness…’

the copyright of this post belongs to Moira Cormack

Triumphs and Gardenias

She cut a swathe through the warmth of a night filled with the smell of lemons and Castrol R. The Triumph a throbbing pulse beneath her. The gentle throaty burble of the powerful engine chewing holes in the silence as she sped to the sea.

They needed to make plans, however, there was another need to be satisfied first.

Upon reaching the cliff edge she turned west and eased her fiery steed towards the ramshackle shelter on the very brink. The tidal swell lazily caressed the rock strewn beach adding salt to the lemons and replacing the mechanical music with a sensuous cacophony of gyrating water.

Killing the engine, the rhythmic waves increasing her awareness, she flicked her eyes over the dwelling for signs of life.

He would already be there, she sensed his powerful presence with mounting excitement. The opiate of his magnetism invaded her being, and her brain dissolved.

With an athletic swing her leg cleared the saddle and she parked one throbbing beast and headed for another.

The door was invitingly ajar and she leaned, following the progress of the peeling paintwork into the seductively dingy interior. An all pervading smell of damp warmth oozed over her senses and something else, indefinable. She held her breath. He was here, he was here, her heart beats echoed. One shadow detached itself from the others and engulfed her in an embrace with all the practised skill that she found irresistible.

His touch was as the caress of a silk nightdress and slithered over her body taking her breath away. Surrendering to the inevitable, the animal warmth between them poised to strike with the passionate joy of an exploding Gardenia. They wasted no time exchanging words, but cleared the table with the swipe of an arm, employing its surface with an efficiency born of haste. The night became one of simple urgency. Ideas would come later.

The copyright of this post belongs to Geneva Grey