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Swallowing tomorrow

Havoc and Consequence

Who reads a smiling poet’s words?
Ones that bridge the chasm from heartache to heaven.
Do you care to wash in the tears of the lonely?
Or splash yourself in city rain, dirty from the walk of life.
These moments we catch and keep.
Lock inside where the heartbeats remind us we’re still existing.
Coveting and creating.
Moving and replacing like tectonic continents of sorrow and elation.
Self-serving commotion in a noisy crowd of others.
Screaming to be heard and praying to be forgotten.
Who wants to read a dead girls dreams?
Slashed away like the wrist on a foggy November.
Or trapped in amber to survive generations.
We are the pendulum kids, swinging from north to south.
Mouth and eyes open to catch it all and swallow as we fly by.
With tears in our eyes; not knowing if their happy ones or sad.

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Checkers and chess

Havoc and Consequence

How to topple the king which wears the crown so royally.
Moments and magnesium fill the place of diamonds and gems.
Wrapped in much Fools gold.
And the crown heaves down, rubbing red and raw.
Check
A life long lived with much regret.
Check.
How we turn the heels and fled.
To learn a life in which to lead, we watch the others.
Little eyes through holes in fences.
A voyeuristic violation, into their little galaxies.
That swirl and sway like the black in the white.
Changing from dismay, into delight.
And you take this horse by the reigns, and lead me through the forest.
Through the clearing of my ill begotten ways.
Out of the woods, out of the storm.
Peppering poppies that fill my lungs with such poisonous perspective.
And show me.
That I had been asleep all this time.

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Between the jars – Underneath Europa

Europa my love!

Havoc and Consequence

Covered in ice, Europa is one of the four of Galilean moons of Jupiter. It is slightly smaller than the Earth’s moon, and it is the sixth largest one in the solar system. Named after Europa, the mother of King Minos and lover of Zeus, the moon is the cold diamond satellite on the neck of space.

I say covered in ice, when really its crust is an ice-water combination, rupturing and freezing in parts, scarring the planet in darker slashes that glow red and rust brown from a distance. The temperature of its surface is about -160°C; bone shatteringly cold and uninhabitable.

But it’s underneath where life begins.

Under the ice crust, but not solely to reside, lie the vast ice cities. Forged out of the frozen nitrogen and comet dust, these vast and palatial cityscapes warren through the planets mantel, each one a testament to design and solar freezing…

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White/Blue – Part II

Blue moon language flows in her skin.

Havoc and Consequence

(part I here)

Ice on the edge of space

She slept of course, that’s how she’d gotten there. Trapped in a dream that travelled across sky and time. It wasn’t far really, not within her scheme of things. Europa was really the backyard to Earth’s green and blue house; compared to the places she’d been and seen. The trip was quick, a blink of the inner eye for her. Sleeping, forming, and settling into something new in which to emerge from. No-one knew she had left, she made it that way. It wasn’t sneaking out the backdoor or running away, merely moving to the place she knew she would blossom. Unfold in the weighted gravity and expand like the sea coral in her mind.

Getting there was the easy part. She would not miss her home moon, she was not one for looking back. Too many shards of…

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WHITE/BLUE

Weathering the Spectacular Supernatural! By: Mark Ryan

Havoc and Consequence

(for Naomi and Gina)


The lady of the jars

It was snowing. It always snowed. That’s how she liked it.

The swirling white that enveloped everything, dusting and smothering all in a wonderland. There was more variety in snow she’d always thought. A sunny day was nice, for a trip to the beach or a stroll in the park; but sunny days were predictable, ordinary, and what everyone wanted. Snow, on the other hand created such chaos and difference.

Her cottage was nestled right by the huge stream that swept through the core of the little village of Hamani. It was near enough for her to grab the things she needed from the stores and the like, but just far enough on the outskirts where she could find the solitude and quiet she relished. That’s not to say she was lonely. She was always visited upon by someone knocking on…

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I brought the rain to the hills

Renewed in Malaysia

Singledust

I brought the rain to the hills

I sought the light of the words
away from the darkness of life
to distill the gloom of living

I brought the words for comfort
I sought the solace of rhyme
away from the hurt of memories
to feel the arc of time

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”
– Anais Nin

my view over the jungle hill station Fraser’s Hill Malaysia

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Pluck

Havoc and Consequence

As a prelude to a harvest.
Of beautiful heads and slender stems.
Comes the bloom of life.
The rotting of the old to be buried out by the tree.
The one which hangs heavy in winter.
Topped by snow and sad inclination.
Each flower a moment in time.
Spun forth from destiny on tiny fingertips of the forgotten.
Names not to be held in the mouths of the mortal.
You pluck the rose from the marrow,
and gaze into the eyes of beauty.
While it slowly wilts into time.

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