The Hourglass She told him, 'I don't want the scraps of time you happen to throw my way, give me your small hours, and your joys enlarged - then I will come.' Alas, he was glass and wood and dirt. He had no ears. With a fistful of shakes and turns, she left, and took …
The Quiet Tragedy of a House
The Ladder It ascends into the darkness, beyond the frame, where the eye may not follow it. Its steps, solid near the cobblestones, grow ghostlier as they meet their shadows in the entrance without a door. The men must have built it out of their fears, and the sun must have cast its twin out …
A Postcard for the Unseen
For today's challenge I used a postcard reproduction of Filadelfo Simi's The Flowers of Capri, of which I talked a little here. The Roots She lurks at the grassroots, unholy like a suicide - who is she? why is there no ribbon bearing her name, no marble dog laid at her feet? And yet, undoubtedly, the …
A Postcard for the Lyrical Astrologers
The Mutable Cross Shadows peeped from under the skirts of the fountain to wonder at the city into which they had been born without notice. The whites of the sky descended in unison to muffle the farers' smouldering voices. The pocketed buildings trickled upwards, towards the love of their chimneys or the firm passion of …
A Postcard for the Travellers
A little tanka, hopefully in keeping with the postcard. 航海 "Once upon a time" - is that not how it should start, mercifully far? And yet, all the adventures, all the wounds, grow cruelly near.
A Toy Story (Not Disney’s)
But what was that story now? No, really. The Bonfire There was a story about toys, and books, and the comfort of pajamas being thrown into the fire when the little boy got well again. It stomps through my memories sometimes, for no reason. I hear the teddy-bears and wooden soldiers crying as they burn, …
One for the Dreamers
On the Last Day Of the moon and sun only the myths are left; words fill the sky instead of light, and the clouds have turned the colour of well-fingered parchment. Today is the day when lies finally triumph, cardinally bound, set to trample reason. No more high seats for pragmatic action: the fire-birds have …
Hodie Mihi Cras Tibi
Finally, the skull! This grim little piece is dedicated to my friends who, I'm sure, will appreciate the joke. 🙂 As I am now, so shall you be unblessed, my failures stuck between my teeth, eyes wide and unfocused in numbness, the fires of my determination burning elsewhere, consuming me no longer, lighting my path …
A Postcard from the Wanderer
Today's is a postcard I bought on my first visit to Prague, and it shows a street from the old Prague ghetto. Ahasverus Prague is a weird city. I remember the puppets, the crowds, and feeling that the caryatids wanted to crush me with their wounded glory: "Embrace us! Embrace us!" And I was stunned, …
Still Life No Longer
Today I decided to enlist some help, so as to make the challenge a little more exciting: I presented my significant other with a selection of postcards and I asked him to choose one for me. Negotiating his way through various skull-featuring pictures (you'll see!), he finally settled on a reproduction of the painting The Poulterer's Shop …
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