Vicious – poem

Play your cards.
Leave no trace.
Pick a time.
Pick a place.

Keep your fire
smouldering low
until you strike
a cruel blow.

Guide the gullible.
Keep them blind.
Trick the trusting.
Destroy the kind.

Vicious, vicious.
You cannot win.
For life supports not
the treachery within.

Courage, courage.
Get up, get up.
I will help you.
Drink from the grace-cup.

Muddled mind,
the waters will clear.
And you will see
the savage dears.

Kind, kind.
Do not despair.
I hear and heed
your caring prayer.

From Strange Words

Circles of Separation: Make-Overs and Move-Ons

Beautiful things come together one stitch at a time.

Chapter 37: Decorating Skeletons

Amira was walking along the main street of Waldmeer, greeting the locals, and looking into the shop windows to see if any of the familiar places had changed. It was her first visit back since moving to Darnall. “Hello,” said a lady outside the Op Shop. Amira didn’t recognise the woman but, on closer inspection, realised it was Amelia.

“You look so different,” said Amira. Continue reading “Circles of Separation: Make-Overs and Move-Ons”

Circles of Separation: Outer Circle

The Dream Maker is here by consent of every person who ever came here.

Chapter 15: Scammers and Scanners

“When you enter the Outer Circle,” said Lan-Lan to Vera, “the most pressing problem is recall. On moving into its atmosphere, you will forget who you are and why you are there.”

“If I cannot remember who I am, I will be very vulnerable,” said Vera as she backed away from the entrance at the top of Long Hill. Continue reading “Circles of Separation: Outer Circle”

Today I Will Be Happy – poem

Today, I will be happy.
Today, I will look up.
I will see the sunshine, the rain, the sky.
Vast. Giving. Forgiving.

Today, I will be happy.
Today, I will see.
I will see you. You who changes clothes,
changes colour, changes history, and changes destiny.

Today, I will be happy.
Today, I will remember the hurt and forget the pain.
Those long-loved; loved still.
Those now-loved; we’re blessed.

Today, I will be happy.
Maybe, I wasn’t happy yesterday.
Maybe, I won’t be happy tomorrow.
But today, today, I will be happy.

From Strange Words

Together: Writing as Co-Creation

One of the wonderful things about writing fiction is that we have complete freedom to be as honest and blunt as we feel is necessary to get across an idea. The reader never knows which bits of a story are fictitious and which are true. There is an immunity to story writing which nonfiction does not have. The latter can, generally, not maintain the same sort of freedom due to concerns of hurting others or defamation lawsuits. Continue reading “Together: Writing as Co-Creation”

Together: Unforeseen Circumstances

Chapter 18: Laughing at a Funeral

“Guess what, Amira,” said Gabriel excitedly on the phone.

“I don’t know. It sounds good,” said Amira enjoying Gabriel’s happiness.

“Come on,” urged Gabriel. “You’re a healer. You’re supposed to be psychic.”

“Only sometimes.” Amira smiled. She had no idea what his good news was but not wanting to spoil his fun she ventured, “Hmm, my powers are telling me that…,” she paused waiting for a suitable idea to pop into her mind. “You sold your painting for a small fortune.”

“Nope. Guess again.” Continue reading “Together: Unforeseen Circumstances”

Waldmeer: Change / Happy Moments

CHANGE

Chapter 49: Loss

For the past week, Gortaithe had not been himself. He was restless and jumpy. He kept barking into the empty night even though Maria assured him that everything was fine and, when that didn’t work, commanded him to be quiet. When they walked in the laneways, he wouldn’t relax. He alternated between pulling on the lead and hiding behind Maria. Today was no different. A truck backfired and he pulled so hard that Maria had to let go of the lead or fall over. Worse, he then ran off. Continue reading “Waldmeer: Change / Happy Moments”

Waldmeer: Men

Chapter 44: Hierarchy

Maria’s dog, Gortaithe, was coming along well. He had relaxed into his inner city, household life; as relaxed as a German shepherd like him gets. He had stopped looking aggressively at people and even let them pat him. He wasn’t overly enthusiastic about human attention, other than his own human, but he tolerated it with relatively good grace. Continue reading “Waldmeer: Men”