A status quo. Stagnant water. A sterile dish. A society just going through the motions. All of these are calm, and at least two of them are dead, or unappealing to life. But ‘Calm’ isn’t the problem, it’s stasis. Let me show you.
An elephant on the long walk to water. A jogger, out for their morning run, or Gorillas grooming. All alive, all activities driven by purpose, desire and movement, and all as serene as the swan appears to be. Sure the runner gets hot and sweaty, the elephant thirsty and the Gorilla, bored, but there is calm in repetitive, necessary activities. Unneccessary repetition becomes maddening, maddening, maddening, maddening, maddening maddeningmaddening you get the idea.
So over the festive period, when you are sat still, brooding over debts and decorations, think of that elephant in its long, steady plod. Maybe even admit you admire that bloke or lady that runs past your house every morning.
Stasis brings a destructive calm, the inertia of the corpse. Stable movement, motion, even if only of mind, grants one creative, productive calm. Remember this, and use it.
the recently Dead
or asking about:
prison life, from an ex-prisoners lips
war from the warriors
business, from the bosses
drugs, from the junkies.
Or the facts that:
cosmetics kill animals
mobile phones destroy the earth
facebook owns people’s time
some poetry rhymes
most stories are written simply for a good time,
academics invent words to hide their simplicity
there’s something inherently wrong with man’s big cities.
Every one of these subjects is taboo, not talked about,
because no one wants to admit out loud
no one takes, the longer view-
that our biggest mistake is not talking about war or what we did on the loo
our biggest mistake, is, frankly, Taboo.
Chand Baori, what’s your story were you made, so great, in need, or glory?
structure sublimely sliding away leads the eye, gently, to wander, to stray doubtless unintended, now, marvelled at artistry aligned with lives, compact for a moment drawn together in life’s communal act water, the grease for people to interact.
Exact, are your steps, proportions and stones intact, you’ve kept, your allure’s grown let us learn from your life-worn, well made sides life’s necessities surpass petty divides.
Wandering the moonlight maze
lost in shadows adrift in dreamy haze
She sought an escape to dreary dull days
This powder, that pill
contorted her will
till all her coins, her money did spill
into dealer’s hand who sold her fill
of this pill, that powder, stuff to time kill
till debts brought trouble, pain, the old Bill.
Thus in the dark of graveyard cold
in a street of the dead she lay on the mould
bruises sore, though many weeks old
cover by her feeble blanket unrolled
healing slow as on the stones she lolled
done with deceit and being controlled
for death she waited, calm, foretold
of freezing death, and to death she sold
her soul, on life she released her hold.
Shivering dark descended
vision clouded, thoughts distended
misery’s avatar she waited to be ended.
“Not this night, my dear sweet
your not meant for this quiet street.”
One stinging touch on gentle flesh
she clung to life, renewed, a-fresh
for the reaper’s scythe had other souls to thresh.
Dedicated to tales, not just the story, but the telling too. That is what this blog is for. Read on to peruse short stories and extracts from larger ones….see any you like? LIKE them! Ratings are good, like chocolate…
Some will be real-life, some total fantasy, others somewhere between the two. It’ll all be here eventually, as many tales as I can imagine, as many mad dreams as I can type up.
So sip your drink, get comfy and wander the many worlds I present 🙂 I hope they move you, scare you, fill you with love and carry you floating into wonderful dreamy worlds of wit, wisdom and whirling colours. My promise to you, dear reader, is this; nothing posted here will be normal, nothing here will be as you expect. This is my promise 🙂 enjoy!
P.S. Stories will be the start. There will be more in store….