Employ your words well
To communicate
Not condemn
Listen to all the depths of meaning
Conveyed
Instead of correcting
To shore up
Your sense of superiority
A ring of solid light
Hovers just above the ground
Spinning with infinity
Casts glamour all around
This is
Where the white wolves dance
It is said the be the child
Of the seed of forbidden fruit
Born from secret knowledge
Found on a hidden a hidden route
Around it
The white wolves still dance
The colour pulses wild
Blue, silver and pure white
Dragging hearts round and round
Beneath the starlit night
And so
On the white wolves dance
In a time-worn trench, they dance
Circling below the light
So deep the light they cannot see
The circle is out of sight
Yet still
On the white wolves dance
The circle has been burnt
Into their very eyes
So while the dark wolf dreams
And while the dear time flies
Onwards
The white wolves dance.
So high upon their mountain
On an island on a lake
Isolated and secure from
The world they do forsake
This is
Where the white wolves dance
Anyone in this corner of the blogosphere had any experience or success with Amazon Marketing Services? Wondering about dallying with it to boost the ailing sales of my books?
In the froth and the spray In the spume and the churn In the majesty of the mightiest wave And the receding tide Shines A drop of water A single drop That one day Will hold the heart Of a child
Notable
For nothing
Our generation
Afraid of our legacy
Creating
Empty copies
Of the past
Where’s the new?
The optimistic
These days
It only grows
Where the ground
Is composted
With greed
I don’t know if that is the correct collective noun but it should be 🙂
Here are a few reviews I have accrued over time.
Thirteen Tales (of Ghosts)
Excellently Eerie! AAA+++!! 30 January 2018
Witty, scary, creepy, delicious, and not without a deft touch of wit! Well-crafted visions of the dark side! So refreshing to discover such beautifully told, original material! If you love ghost stories, this is for you! JanO
Tales that take you to some very different places, some are very dark places. 26 January 2017
All the stories in this collection are very different, savour them one at a time. I was very taken with Cycles, an astute tale of teenage boys, with a twist of course. Fire and Ice takes us somewhere deep… Terminal is a very modern tale, Shipwreck not for the faint hearted. I loved A Ghost Scene, one to amuse. Don’t read The Church at bedtime, be sure your past will catch up with you in ‘Suspense’ and you will not want to live in the country by yourself if you read ‘The Valley. Mother completes the collection with a very dark ending. Whether you like to be entertained or wonder what really lies beyond, this is the book for you. Janet Grogerty
A Spring of Dreams
A clever and insightful book of poems 21 September 2015
Great concept to write a poem a day for a year and provides an insight into coping with difficult family circumstances – a recommended read for anyone who has struggled in such situations. Some poems were obviously more personal than others (my favourites were those when the writer cherishes the ‘small moments’ in life such as going to a fireworks display with his wife and son) but he also branches out into more political territory. Look out for the funny poems scattered throughout the book too, one, in particular, made me laugh out loud! A good read and Scott Bailey shows talent as a poet. Recommended. M.H.Beton
Mankind Limited
It feels like us, it acts like us 20 August 2015
This book should be a movie. Somewhere in Hollywood right now there are actors waiting for their agents to deliver this story in script format to them. The makings of all action-packed adventure films are here. I can see the film in my mind’s eye.
But this one is different.
It’s not fast-paced for the thrill of it alone. It needs to be to get the message across. Mankind could be on the threshold of just such a future.
This one could be us.
Maybe a few years down the line yet, maybe already almost there in some similar format. Change a few details. Replace one group for another. Look behind the motives in politics and corporations. Stretch the reality just a little. Ask ourselves questions looking through the light of a different lens.
It feels like us, it acts like us, it may very well come to be.
It could be The Secret we all hold and may one day need.
The future may be closer than we think.
It only takes a small leap of imagination to take us from where we are now to Mankind Unlimited.
Scott Bailey is a writer I follow through his WordPress blog.
I downloaded his book a few weeks ago after reading an excerpt from it on his blog. It wasn’t until this week that I finally had the chance to read the book. I like a good action-packed adventure as much as the next one but I liked, even more, what Scott communicated in the story.
I believe there is more to follow and I’ll be waiting. If we have time and I’m still aware… anniehy
Excellent book 21 October 2013
I really enjoyed reading this book and could barely put it down. It is pretty rare for me to get so engrossed in a book, so if you like books about a dystopian future then this is worth a read. Now I want to know what happens next! RuthJ
Fantastic Read 9 September 2013
Really good book, well worth the money could not put it down at times, sad when it got to the end.
I will be reading it again, dont do that with many books. Amazon Customer
There were some friends. And a hall. An infinite hall, with marble walls and pillars that stretched forever into the distance.
And there were tables. Row after row after row of tables. On each table was a never-ending supply of a single dish. In that hall, on those tables, there could be found every dish that had ever been imagined, concocted and served up in all of human history.
With a thought you could be sitting before any dish you could think of. Or you could ask your neighbour for a recommendation and try something new. The name of the dish was enough to take you there.
It was time for the friends to eat. They entered and they took their paths through the hall. They commenced their lunch.
As they knew – it was a once only meal.
An hour later they reconvened, look each other in the eyes and assessed their time beneath the infinite arches.
The first spoke.
“I tried as many different tastes as I could. I jumped from table to table and I can honestly say that I know of no one who could have filled their time here with as many different flavours as I. Yet. Now I am here – wonder why? I stand here before you proudly stating the number of meals I have partaken off – yet I wonder why does that matter? Not one was complete. Have I missed the joy of a meal.”
He hung his head, deep in thought and regret. But the second friend spoke.
“You make me wonder. What taste did I miss? I did not try many different meals, For quite soon I found one that I really enjoyed. I sat down and savoured the taste. People around me did the same and we discussed the meal and more besides. I do not regret that – no it was heartwarming – but I wonder at the tastes I missed. Was there a better meal still that I could have savoured with more relish?”
The third friend looked haunted.
“I did not eat. I wanted to try everything but I realised this was not possible, that it was a dream that could only fail. Yet I felt that to just sit down and eat was an insult to the great hospitality and variety that had been laid before us. I fell in with a group of other like-minded people and we were determined to resolve this dilemma with the gifts of reason we have been bestowed with. I have been a fool.”
“You are all fools!” said a fourth friend.
“I knew the way – I understood the correct combination of meals that would allow perfection! I tried to tell you but you would not listen! So many people did not listen! Fools! But there were some and we understand that we have eaten correctly and that we will be rewarded for that. I pity you – you have wasted your lunch hour.”
Somehow – I missed last weeks prompt completely. I think by Thursday night I had, had enough of the week. This week has not been much better – so I am recycling again. Using one the picture suggested to me.
Light falls
Through the ancient arch
How much light
Has fallen
Through the years
Upon
Lovers joined
The dearly departed
Those welcomed with blessings
Of water
The cold
The hungry
The repentant
The angry
The sinners
The light has fallen
Age has won
All those lighted memories
Nothing
Now the vessel
Is emptied
And ruined
For Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo prompt Another old one- it’s been a very long day but when I saw the picture I gain knew I had a perfect poem to go with it.
Wide, water wash
Grey beneath the early morning mist
Chance sunbeams bounce and sparkle
River banks lost and blurred
Returning to their ancient ways
Unbound from man’s constraint
A gentle reminder of the eventual winner
Water wandering where it will
Free and unordered
Rolling seeping or swelling to the sea
Grasses, shrubs and tree swimming
Mirrored in their sudden still lakes
Expanding
Memory is an odd thing. Things you thought you had forgotten can still be in there buried deep.
I can remember the first book I read – I mean the first proper storybook rather than just a kids picture book or short fairy tales.
It was an Enid Blyton one – probably not so well-known as her others but the title and the cover stuck with me ever since.
It was Hurrah for the Circus!
Of course over my childhood it eventually got lost – maybe passed onto my younger brothers. Whatever happened to it I always remembered the feeling I had when I finished it. Like a loss. It sold me on reading for the rest of my life.
Even up until now I could remember the first line of that story.
Oddly though – nothing else – not the story, the characters – nothing!
About 10 years ago – maybe more, I spotted it in a second-hand bookshop. An identical copy of the one I had! I snapped it up!
It sat on my shelf for years. I never reread it – well it was a kids book and I had way too long a list of other books to read.
I would, I thought, read it to my kids one day. If they wanted me to.
Well, last night was that night. My son wanted me to read to him I had exhausted his many books – most of which involve Minecraft and lack any real story content. Tonight I decided to read him a proper story.
I still had no idea at all what it was even about – completely forgotten.
But as I read it – nearly every single sentence was instantly familiar. Though I could not tell you what came next – I remembered what I was reading with a vivid recollection! Remembering where I was when I first read it and how I felt and the images that were being conjured then came flooding back! It was incredible.
I only hope that my son gets the same from it, that it gives him the same passion for reading, though I suspect he is already there on that score.
I am in need of a mnemonic
For my life
Memories slip away
Photographs
Have no justice
Trying to cling
To long lost joys
The answer
Make new ones
Instead
It is inevitable
A child will arise
And topple
The obstacles
You put in their way
Grow strong in spite of them
Grow strong because of them
And set the world aflame
With angry hope
Think on that
And tremble
Note – this was inspired by Colleen’s Weekly Tanka Tuesday challenge – but doesn’t qualify in any way. Not sure how can credit her without creating a pingback. Check out her main site and you will find the challenge section. This is not in any of the forms required but came to me in a flash and I liked it so I am putting it out there anyway.
Disappearing into the gloom
Undulating side to side
Alien but of this earth
Slow, cold life
In the deep deep dark
So far from the hearth we know
The strange eel like creature
Eases in the deepest cold
Leaving divers dumb
Our boy is a bundle
Of boisterous fun
But he doesn’t know
When to stop the fun
And hurts someone
(Rarely himself)
Because of his mental health.
What to do?
What to do?
I am no expert
And no expert
Seem to know
What to do.
Move him on
Move him on
Is all we get
But we will not give up
Like them
His challenges will be his victory
If you are stuck for ideas – here are a few. They are original and different – plus being ebooks they have the advantage of not being hindered by delivery issues 🙂
Mankind Limited
Marc trudged on with life, marching in line with his fellow workers. Weighed down by the everyday burdens of life, the pressure to conform, to succeed or face destitution.
Yet he knew, in his heart that it was all wrong, the questions squirmed like fiery dragons in the pit of his heart, beneath his deepest darkest doubts.
Until they grew and burst his sanity, set him on a path of defiance and rebellion. A path that would cross three others – all like him seeking answers.
A path of danger and adventure that would see him marked as a terrorist and fleeing for his life. It would see him find love and heartbreak, hope and despair, Most of all, it would open his eye to the possibility of an ancient and powerful secret that might answer all his doubts and fears.
As the title says – thirteen tales about ghosts. Yet, while ghosts feature in them all – not all are traditional ghost stories.
You will find the vengeful spirit but also the plaintiff one. The haunting message from the past and the playful spirits capturing the joy of their past lives.
Some of these visitors from beyond lead the haunted to peace and joy – others take them on much darker paths to places with no return.
Three hundred and sixty-five poems in all shapes and sizes, sprung from dreams and emotion. Published day after day for a year. There are haiku, sonnets, katauta, lanturnes and many other forms – including free form. The moods are as varied as the forms and often reflect my mood on the day. There is sadness and grief, joy and love.
If nothing else – these can provide a small moment in everyone’s stressful lives to stop and contemplate the world in a different way.
I couldn’t get that episode out of my head – so I didn’t think I would end up writing anything. In a way that’s still true – I am just waffling here.
But the tenuous link is the kind of elevation that can be experienced when listening to a particularly good piece of music. Tonight a good piece has been returned to my consciousness courtesy – of all things – to Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2!
Now it has many good tunes some of which are on my regular playlists already. But watching it tonight one jumped out at me – that I haven’t heard for a long, long time. It grabbed me and lifted me and I didn’t even wait for the film to finish before I was on the phone downloading it! (Og the wonder of the internet!)
Yep – My Sweet Lord by George Harrison. What a simple but beautiful song. Perfection. Elevating!
“This book should be a movie. Somewhere in Hollywood right now there are actors waiting for their agents to deliver this story in script format to them. The makings of all action-packed adventure films is here. I can see the film in my mind’s eye. But this one is different. It’s not fast-paced for the thrill of it alone. It needs to be to get the message across. Mankind could be on the threshold of just such a future. Time is racing. This one could be us. Maybe a few years down the line yet, maybe already almost there in some similar format. Change a few details. Replace one group for another. Look behind the motives in politics and corporations. Stretch the reality just a little. Ask ourselves questions looking through the light of a different lens. It feels like us, it acts like us, it may very well come…”
“Great concept to write a poem a day for a year and provides an insight into coping with difficult family circumstances – a recommended read for anyone who has struggled in such situations. Some poems were obviously more personal than others (my favourites were those when the writer cherishes the ‘small moments’ in life such as going to a fireworks display with his wife and son) but he also branches out into more political territory. Look out for the funny poems scattered throughout the book too, one in particular made me laugh out loud! A good read and Scott Bailey shows talent as a poet. Recommended.”
“Great concept to write a poem a day for a year and provides an insight into copying with difficult family circumstances – a recommended read for anyone who has struggled in such situations. Some poems were obviously more personal than others (my favourites were those when the writer cherishes the ‘small moments’ in life such as going to a fireworks display with his wife and son) but he also branches out into more political territory. Look out for the funny poems scattered through-out the book too, one in particular made me laugh out loud! A good read and Scott Bailey shows talent as a poet. Recommended.”
I am deeply honoured that poem of mine – topical for today – has been featured on the Thanet writers website.
It was originally written for Armistice day – then later a friend and I adapted it as a song and this is the version they have featured.
While we are remembering – we also said goodbye to some more legends today. Robert Vaughn – the Man From Uncle, and also one of my favourite all time singer/songwriters – Leonard Cohen.
This is my favourite – and with apt lyrics for today.
The media lies. We all know that. Sometimes, though, it is very subtle.
Like what it tells us about being a man.
Everything we see gives us the same message. The brash businessman dispensing his wisdom, the cocky chancer charming the ladies, the whisky guzzling spy or DCI. Even the greedy bankers and the corrupt politicians – who we all condemn but are still reaping their rewards.
They all tell us the same thing – to be a man and be a success – be strong, take what you want! No one will give it to you so grab it with both hands.
Far more subtly than that but that’s the message.
I have come to a different conclusion lately. To be a man, properly (and I don’t claim to be this by ay means) you have to learn to give. To give of your strength – and to keep giving when your strength has run out. Give your strength to those you care about.
When you’re in love Nothing matters Yes, there are annoyances Sacrifices Anger Even tears Nothing matters Savour the moments Bask in the sunlight of her smile Be warmed by her touch And keep on giving Your strength