The Nymph


burning_tree_by_azad03-d3cvkrw

There’s a tree in my neighbour’s garden

And inside, I see a nymph.

She’s trapped within

That rough, grey bark.

Frozen.

Heart still beating,

Eyes still seeing,

Mind still racing.

But they will slow soon too.

Years later she will forget.

Another form, she’ll take;

A reverse metamorphosis

Eyes still seeing

Heart still beating.

Only just,

Only then

It’ll beat to the rhythm of her prison.

No more restlessness.

She’ll take her cocoon

Sometimes she’ll remember

A previous life.

It will return like pleasant scents

Mixing in with

Stale odours of bark and sap.

And then she’ll be locked

In, once again

In the body of another.

Stagnant, stagnating,

Moss and lichen,

Vines which wrap and strangle

Until it stops everything,

Until immolation – a phosphorous grenade.

A light so bright

It will give eyes which finally see

After, only after

Blindness takes hold.

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Success in the face of failure


 

sea hagThis year, yet again, I am taking part in NaNoWriMo; that famed writing competition that goads you, that wills you and challenges you write a 50,000 draft of a novel in 30 days. It’s a seemingly insurmountable task and yet, this year, with a full time job, two children and a surprise birthday to get through, I decided to go for it.

I won’t win, but that’s OK. I might get close to 30,000, which will be a massive achievement in itself but again, I won’t be able to claim the 50,000 word winning badge like I had done back in 2013 when I had a cook, a maid to look after the children and no job. I found it hard then too; I remember going on a 10,000 word marathon on the last night and finishing with minutes to spare. I remember just collapsing in a heap afterwards and the absolute elation I felt after I submitted the first draft of a novel that would never subsequently be published. It was like giving birth. The pain, the joy, the disappointment, the anti-climax…but ultimately the pride.

I won’t be able to claim that this year. Although, secretly…I’m still hoping, by some miracle, I might be able to pull it off.

But the success lies in unearthing the desire again. The quiet broodiness and then, the ultimate decision to try once more. I’ll never really be done. And in the act of writing, I find that joy of creating and seeing my world unfold. Who cares if no one outside my blogosphere sees it? I’m making a whole universe come alive peopled with hope and humour.

Click on the link, if you don’t believe me!

The Sea-Hag and the Moon Queen

Bloody Pumpkins Everywhere!


Orange

Don’t you just hate Halloween? I am the Scrooge of All Hallow’s Eve or whatever the f*#£ they decide to call it. This Americanised, bastardised evil which is upon us means nothing to me except, of course, entitled children demanding sugary treats, sometimes accompanied by smug, sometimes tired looking adults, sometimes “in the effing spirit of it all”, dressed up like a sexy cat! What’s all that about? Bestiality or something? Leave me alone to enjoy my evening away from people. Anyway! F-off Halloween and take your crappy, carved monstrosities of the organic fruit and veg isle, with you! pumpkin