Red is the filter of this placethe clay, the blood, the heat.A silent film that covers all.A nuance to the breath.A rusty song that lulls a hateThat spreads across the veld.A lesson to the children,to never soak their feet.
A moment… GONG!Split second perception,of a thing profound.Love is gone.A phrase contrite,but no less sound.My invisible hole,A withered chasm,Neatly chopped.I see two hearts,Yours still beats,But mine has stopped.
We’re in a cosy little tearoom, appropriately named the ‘Stop-Gap’, and Ms Semicolon is reclining on a luxuriously upholstered chair. Her curvaceous bottom half folds elegantly over the front edge and her full round head rests gently against the back.It seems incredible that some have called this fantastic punctuation mark old fashioned but this is … Continue reading Pause for Thought
#1Many of us will recognise the word ‘woot’ from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, as in: “And wel I woot, as ye goon by the weye” Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales, General Prologue l.771 It translates to ‘know’ in modern English but did you know that ‘woot’ is still in use today, although the meaning is very … Continue reading Philological Fun Facts
Living in the economic hub of this little country is sometimes a little daunting. The pace of life is breakneck and in my work as a freelancer I often have to work like mad for months at a time to make sure I can get through the slower months of the summer. When insanity threatens, … Continue reading Wallonian Wonders – Monks, Boats and Industrial Inspiration
A raven on a tree branch Devours the mouldy flesh Of slain and ravaged burger buns And processed meat long dead His world is all of silence While we below sigh and scream His needs are few as we discard More food than he could eat The raven on the tree branch Invisible to all … Continue reading #NaPoWriMo #4
A bit late but here goes She took a feather Ripped it up To show the birds Their weakness The birds replied With beady eyes And beaks and claws And bloody jaws That skin is so much softer And easier to tear Than a single unplucked feather discarded on the air
millionsmillions: Writing a novel is an all-consuming project, so can you imagine not telling anyone? At The New York Times, Alice Mattison discusses keeping her novels secrets until at least the third draft. “If I talk about the book, I believe — I cannot help believing — my characters will be angry, and will no … Continue reading
Sanding away the varnish of another glamorous lie It was a night for revelling yet I was the painted fly who sat on his gorgeous petal as the ladies butterflew by How they dance to his dew scented tune How they spiral around his lust But me, I sit quietly My thousand eyed stare Turning … Continue reading #NaPoWriMo 2
Bring to my boundless conscience a song to soothe the bleeding drown out the din of conformity challenge that breath of ice that chokes the ashen attempt to live