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“Ignoramuses!” she exclaimed. And then added, “Or should that be ‘ignoramii’? She lay down the pen she had been using to mark the essays with. Green, never red. Red looked too threatening. Too much like school. She couldn’t help thinking that judging by the standard of the work she had just been subjected to, the red pen probably wasn’t employed enough at the schools of some of these fools. Spare the red pen, deal with the consequences. Maybe what they needed was a good dose of the red to show them the error of their ways. Or was it perhaps the errors of their beings. She preferred the latter. Sighing, she swivelled around in her scratchy, black office chair to face her computer desk. She noticed she had an email, an internal, urgent, marked red. There it was again. Why was it acceptable for someone to use red on her? She opened the email and read: Read the rest of this entry »
The fluorescent glare saturated even the most olive complexion to a dull moonlight grey. Faces became throbbing orbs of nothing. Blank and white and all the same. Tired eyes, sunken into the skull from the late nights; devoid of fun. Still late though, but only from the spinning boredom. The eyes were dead, glassy like a cold, dead fish, staring through the monotony, blinkered because nothing was great anymore. The eyes had died because somewhere, sometime, they had stopped looking, stopped searching for that great something. The life that had danced in the eyes, animating them with the longing of youth, all the desires and hopes and nightmares and fears were at rest. Long since gone to somewhere else far away. A great brick wall had been built on that old, old path between the eyes and the heart. All links severed, no way through. No way back. They were just organs now. Working in the way all the texts books say. That something else, higher than mere biology, had long since been compromised away. Left for middle age. Read the rest of this entry »
Elusive sleep bestows shimmering kisses
Smoothing willing eyes with her benign
Temptation. Submit, she bids. Abide, she wishes
Repose in Lethe, shroud of forgetful divine.
Hand in gentle hand, she winds her labyrinth
Around the cruel enigmas of your soul.
The spectral cocoon of this drowsy nymph
Brushing invisible rainbow, paints you whole.
But you lie heedless of her gossamer call
A wonderer, wandering darkly through
A fractured conscious, obscure mirrored hall;
Mysterious, worldless, slumberless you.
Clawing at the bleeding dark, wall of words at your head
Velvet tears, light crawls in, illumines numb and weary dread.
Here we go. My blog. The word "terrified" does not adequately describe my feelings regarding blogging. I still can’t even use the word "blog" casually in conversation; despite intricate mental preparation, the word always quivers in my throat, belies my love of Old English literature and firm belief in pen and paper. Nonetheless, I am here. Writing my first post.
I suppose I should explain my aim. I write stories and poetry and I have been convinced that it is time to get some of my work "out there". So here they are, (or at least will be). I hope to have something new here every week, life permitting. I can’t help feeling that doing this is me gradually releasing tiny bits of my soul into cyber-space, or whatever we’re calling it now. Because the things I write are, essentially, me. I think that’s the only way writing can be successful. I hesitate to say my work is "successful writing" but I believe I’m on the right path. So; read, love, loathe.