We create darkness
Where we can’t explain
Powerful darkness
Dark Matter
Holds the universe together
Dark Energy
Expands it fast
But most powerful of all
Dark Ignorance
This will tear us apart
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Dark gathering cloud
Brooding and beautiful
Waiting for the flash of light
The spark
The piercing blue-white crack
And the wind
The raw whipping wind
And the release of rain
and the rainbow
The scarlet of fire
from a barrel
of a gun.
The scarlet of heat
from the blast
of a bomb.
The scarlet of rockets
arcing through
the air.
The scarlet of eyes
shot through
with fear.
The scarlet of fields
and memories of those
buried there.
The scarlet of blood
spilt without care
on brow and cheek.
This scarlet deep
so precious and deep
is of Mars.
The green of the forest
where animals play
without bounds.
The green of summer
and nature bursting
to be alive.
The green of shoots
born by birds
in clear skies.
The green of reeds
by river banks where
we sleep and dream.
The green of the sea
surrounding with safety
our precious land.
The green of fields
where people walk together
hand in hand.
This green so verdant
so desired and calm
is of Venus.
The silver of stars
darting here and there
with lightening speed.
The silver of water
tumbling in the sun
from land to land.
The silver of salt
crusted on the sails
bringing people close.
The silver of an aeroplane
shining in the air
letters written there.
The silver from the earth
delicately stretched and turned
wires spreading far.
The silver of a firework
broadcasting sparks of joy
to gathered friends.
This silver bright
wondrous and bright
is of Mercury.
The orange of sunrise
mighty and full of heart
bringing praise in singing.
The orange of a marigold
around which children dance
and parents’ hearts leap.
The orange of a drink
splashed down laughing throats
a thirst to quench.
The orange of a car
painted by a child
all wobbly and bright.
The orange of a paper
wrapped around a gift
unexpected surprise.
The orange of a mandarin
hanging in the tinsel
succulent and ripe.
This orange happy
bright and full of joy
is of Jupiter.
The yellow of an eye
weary, deep and wise,
heavy with rheum.
The yellow of a page
of a leather-bound book
heavy ancient tome.
The yellow of a contract
signed in years gone by
fulfilled with honour.
The yellow of a poster
faded in the sun
promises long forgotten.
The yellow of a leaf
discarded by the road
crumpled and dry.
The yellow of grass
scorched in the summer sun
toughened by the trial.
This yellow old
filled with wisdom and pain
is of Saturn.
The purple of a cloak
whose owner dazzles all
leaving them perplexed.
The purple of a cloth
on a table still
with artefacts old.
The purple of a box
with secrets held inside
only he may know.
The purple of a book
engraved with secret signs
full of ancient rites.
The purple of a smoke
that grants your heart’s desires
with forbidden fires.
The purple of time
between day and night
where fairies play.
This purple, magical
drenched with ancient lore
is of Uranus.
The blue of an evening sky
and strange signs in the air
for those who look.
The blue of pools
deep unchartered waters
with creatures strange.
The blue of visions
and misty wandering ghosts
speaking from the grave.
The blue of eyes
that hypnotise and gaze
into pasts unveiled.
The blue of lights
shining in the north
reflected in the ice.
The blue of sparks
floating in the air
in the woods.
this blue so mystical
beautifully unexplained
is of Neptune.
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
The gulf between us grows and grows.
I wonder were we ever close?
Is it a myth we tell ourselves?
To give us false kudos.
One looks on one with envy
the other with disdain
But neither can leave the contract
for nothing is to gain?
Still the gulf grows wider
bridges tumble down
Yet the ties are tighter
Deeper runs the frown
Round and round this story goes
Will it ever end
The futile fixing of a problem
That will never end
So we have to ask ourselves
For richer? For poorer?
Squares in squares
for squares like us
Or little robots
Or shining fruit
Or a myriad of penguins
Take your choice
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Silk sliding
Fingertips brushing
Lightly
Warm breath
Close
Tingling
Lips shining
Eyes widening
Hush
Moist close
Pulsing closer
Moving
Reverberating
Boom! Surf crashes on the shore
Golden sand twinkles
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
My heart is racing
Not for love but for madness
It is pounding fast
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
The things that we hoard
Entrance us and enslave us
A lifetime of toil
To sit on an empty throne
Why not take the easy road
Calcification
And aches, these creaking old bones
Have seen better days
A word is a ripple
Spreading through the world
With slow, subtle effects.
Imagine then what a few more, well placed, can do.
Find out.
By Scott Andrew Bailey
The hunter is hunted
Twisting between the trees
Turned into doe from nymph
Trailed by her lover’s bow
Tumbling through the forest
Two golden horns that shine
To rise into the skies
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Two men wake
Two men go to work
Kiss their children goodbye
Work
Earn their wages
Provide
Come home
Love their children
Make love to their wives
Sleep
One man sends the other
A bomb in a package
Nothing between these men
But a thin fence
And hate
Dressed up as ideology
As fight against injustice
As religion
As revenge
But it is nothing
But the empty
Hate
Of little men
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
So many connections
So many lines
All taut and humming
Junctions and switches
A house of cards
Delicately balanced
Systems
Working to full capacity
One break from collapse
Such is life
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Copper
The poor relation
In the metal family
First to be used
Didn’t even get an age
Rich, lustre
That draws you on
Emboxed
Entrenched
Inside our own little
Echo chambers
Not hearing
Views
Not seeing
Sites
Shouting
Only our way
The world wide web
Tightens
Promised to widen the world
Instead
Narrowed our minds
Marriage was forbidden
Mortal husband taken
Masked in a veil of shame
Must watch her husband’s pain
Most faint in the heavens
Marred by following love
Misty those lives above
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Archibald the Wizard
Is a very dodgy man.
He seeks out naughty snowstorms
And sends them to Japan.
He’d like to paint Picasso
Or Cézanne if he could.
He sends up purple smoke signs
From a tower in the wood.
He strums a harp a little
And bangs an old tin can.
Has Beaujolais on chips
According to the plan.
He strikes an unheard chord
In the hearts of all he sees.
But still he sends those snowflakes
Over oriental Seas.
Cross him at your peril
As many have found out.
Beneath his smoking jacket
Lies a sherry lout.
He doesn’t care for you or me
He doesn’t care at all.
He plots and schemes and gurgles.
Behind his wobbly wall.
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Fleeing from killers
The child runs desperately
To fill out a form
Mother of he who brought
Music up to the Gods
Malice turned to justice
Magic cascading from
Mother of the world storm
Mighty God of the earth
Must meet a mortal end.
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
They undertake
The task of taking
Us from one world
The the other
When we are finally
Overtaken by life’s
Final act
A grave undertaking
If ever there was
Ever shining bright spark
Equalizing her rage
Encompassing justice
Ever seeking revenge
Endless pain unanswered
Echoing from murder
Electra takes her aim
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Forest
Verdant, alive
Roots reaching out and down
Branches stretching up to the sky
Spellbound
#Cinquain
Fastidious and precise
You know
Like the song
Only not nice
For no Queen here
Just the killer
Trawling in the dark
The icy deep
Caressed by the wide sea
Corals catch the new child
Carry her to the shore
Colliding with bright fate
Climbing into the sky
Coronal light shines out
Cascading to the sea
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
The urge to straighten
Is the craving for perfection
The mark of human striving
The inspiration
And the curse
That will save or damn us
A nymph darts between trees
Afraid of the hunter
Always close behind her
Away she flees in haste
Another danger lurks
At her feet as she runs
A butterfly is born
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Every hug given
Imparts a part of you
In return for a piece of another
Those who embrace the world
Shall be more of it
The blood of stars
Drives the magic of our dreams
Bound in dragon tears
Flames flicker
Time ticks
Down
War draws
Nearer
For the quick
End of time
Draws near
Who will heal
The rifts?
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Blue star beam
Slides by a smoky moon
Dances through Saturn’s rings
A lone abyssal tune
Lingers by the Jovian storms
Then on to lunar dust
Down through cool and silent sky
Drawn down and down like lust
Brief it touches silken skin
Pauses for a spell
Then down into the darkness
Of the iris that does swell.
Crisis everyday
When did this start?
When will normality
Return
Is this the price
Of years of hard work
Maybe I should just sweep roads
Noble simplicity
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Red
Swathes in fields
Too many
Black and white
The headlines
That sowed the seed
Grey
The problems
The ethics
The guns
Yellow
the gas
and the memories
Red
Remembrance
and ledger
Eyes
Red and raw
Seen too much
Filled
With work
and bills
and tears
Clang, chip! clang chip! Clang chip! Blow.
Scratch, dip. Scratch, dip. Scratch, dip. Flow.
Block, press. Block press. Block, press. Squeeze.
Click, roll. Click, roll. Click, roll. Please.
Clackety clack. Clackety clack. Clackety clack. Slide.
Tip tap tap. Tip tap tap. Tip tap tap. Pride.
Stone to scroll to press to type to screen.
Where next the word?
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
There was a young diver called laurel
Who spent her life in the coral
Of the men of the land
She dismissed them offhand
As she found them just far too amoral
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Scott Bailey skillfully wove a tale of intrigue and suspense with just the right amount of dystopian dread. Bravo!
In the Author’s Words:
“Trapped. In a world where everything is measured and control pervades every area of life, four people begin to break down. Instead, they break through the walls of deceit and propaganda and into a world of revolution.
Each, in their way, vow to overthrow the established order. They embark on a journey against the forces arraigned against them, forces of the state and self-doubt.
Ultimately their paths converge on a dangerous road and the discovery of an ancient secret.
Four people, four rebels. Four journeys of self-doubt and discovery that converge on the road to revolution and the discovery of an ancient secret.”
My Recommendation:
*The author provided me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review which follows*
I have never been a fan of dystopian novels. For me, they were always too dark and miserable, filled with human misery and oppression. You can imagine my joy then when I dug intoMankind Limited to find a book filled with characters who were well-rounded and human, flaws and all. I even found an element of hope buried within the pages that drew me further into the story.
In a time, possibly not too far in our future, the MOD has assumed complete control of the government. Nobody crosses them or even attempts to. People become automatons, there but for one reason – to earn money. Individuality is frowned upon. All you are allowed to do is work.
If you lose your job, which is considered a public failure, you are allowed to stay on welfare for only a very short time. The possibility of getting another job after that would be slim to none. Once an individual falls off the bottom of the Personal League Tables, they become illegals, forced to live on the street. Tens of thousands of illegals are shot in the act of criminal activity each year, simply trying to survive.
The government has found a way to manipulate and drug people so they can control them. The MOD believes a docile employee will work hard and earn more money. One such man, Marc, finds himself struggling to survive in this world. It is as if he cannot adapt. Eventually, he loses his job and his wife. He finds himself part of a fringe group of illegals hunting for information about a MOD program called Noah’s Ark.
Richard and Jane, brother and sister, along with their friend, William, welcome Marc into their group of illegals. One day, during a reconnaissance mission to a laboratory high in the mountains, the group comes upon a secret so deadly, it could spell the end of the world for them all. Evidence must be destroyed, so the group plants a bomb to insure the secrets are never used against humans.
As they make their escape, they discover the President is on his way to the facilities for a briefing. The bomb blows the research laboratory and the President to smithereens, branding the illegals as murderers on the run.
Now, this is where I found the story got really interesting. This series of events leads the foursome on an adventure of self-discovery. Each person deals with the trauma from their life decisions, leading the reader to a culmination of events at the explosive ending where the secret is finally revealed.
The plot and characters were superb. The only thing I found I had to get used to was the way the author switched scenes and characters within the same chapter. This was done, I am sure, for perspective and as a way to show what was happening to each character all at the same time.
I must admit, I was surprised by the ending. Scott Bailey skillfully wove a tale of intrigue and suspense with just the right amount of dystopian dread. Bravo!
Character Believability: 5
Flow and Pace: 4
Reader Engagement: 4
Reader Enrichment: 5
Reader Enjoyment: 4
Overall Rate: 4.0 out of 5 stars
In response to my daily prompt Activity
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday
The fat white man
Built a castle
And ruled within his walls
Lived with impunity
and flowing wealth
A harem for his use
and other toys
spiced and prepared
He slumps
In his foetid
white
flesh
Those without
devalued
cheap
Turned cheapness to gold
Built better
Bigger castle
The fat white man
Never noticed the decline
The decaying walls
The deserters
The fall
Time
is
Up
Tarns tributaries tumble down
heather cloaked hills
red-brown tufts twitching in the wind
Cold water, cold air, eagle riding the high winds
Wolves range over moors
Sheep shiver, shepherds huddle
Fire crackles, broth steams
Tarns tributaries tumble down
heather cloaked hills
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Electron around and around an atom’s core
Atoms around and around each other
Mass around mass and air around rock
Rock around and around rock
Moon around and around earth
Earth around and around Sun
A billion suns around galactic core
Spiralling into the dark
A billion galaxies dance their endless dance
Around and around and around
I stand still
(A triolet)
Hand in hand we all walk tonight
Mother, Father and loving son
Watching darkness bursting with light
Hand in hand we all walk tonight
Sky flowers blooming burn our sight
This time of year is always fun
Hand in hand we all walk tonight
Mother, Father and loving son
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Life gives us all gifts
Wonderful, tearful, joyful
Death gathers them back
A silent sunset
Calm waters ripple slowly
Dark storm clouds gather
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
The carnivores
Cruising
Among the vegetarians
Only the toughest
Weeds will survive
This
Trick or treating
With our son
For the first time
Wishing the other
Were here
As the demons cavort
and dance
Gathering their loot
Doing their worst
Other flesh freezes
Starved of food and hope
Is one man’s fun
Another’s murder?
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
A pounding headache
The fruit of today’s labour
Now going to sleep
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Tiny starbursts
The peak on tiny waves
Deep green over yellow
Swaying weeds
Dappled stones
Dark fish darting
The scent of rich water
And reeds
Time to watch
Relax
The life I crave
Instead
Work, bills, sleep, stress
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
Celebratory
The warming rays of the sun
Making the waves dance
#haiku
Time for the flowers to bloom again
Red
Like blood
That was shed
A century ago
And every day since
One day
They will be white
Originally published in A Spring of Dreams
If I am a student
Of life
The lessons
Are lost
On me
As I can change
Nothing
Stuck
In the proverbial
Mud
Scott Andrew Bailey - Author 
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