Calling the ice queen
Invoking the winters heart
knowing the sting
of frost upon lash and cheek
Numb toes
Wading wading
Through the snow
That fell and drifted
And glinted
Sometimes blue
Other times pink
Often with yellow ambers glint
But mainly grey
To match the sky
Except when it bruises
purple-yellow
And Blizzard is on her way
To cover all
Until a blue sky
Scudded with fluff
Turning snow
To melts
That rush and gush and flood
Or flash freeze at the edge of night
Glass hard skating rink
Unseen and unknown
Cherish the scars it leaves
and know
you are lucky
kiss a fractal dream
drifting beautifully
And perfect to the dirty ground
A wind is sharp
Cuts and slices
The teeth of ice grow
Glacial times
Wrapped and warped
Crushing
kiss the crystal
Love the queen
See the purple stars
And the white drops grow
Winter’s Blooms
It’s beauty harshness
Cuddle up to bring warmth
Waiting cacooned
For the defrost
When she may ride
Free to dance with the stars
In the deeps
Of our lonely galatic skies
In the end
The cold is all that will remain
A frozen moment
At the end of time
Archive for the ‘Space’ Category
Calling the Ice Queen
Sunday, July 21st, 2019A Child’s Story
Sunday, July 21st, 2019In the Beginning
The stars were beautiful
And serene
But then the moon appeared
Scattering crumbs
of Self
in their paths
They tasted and became hungry
Seething with desire
Angry with avarice
at each other
The throng moved as one
Distorted were their
pretty faces
as they became the Doom
They fell upon the moon
Who died without a sound
Distended became stomachs
feasting greedily
They became heavy
Crashing through the sky
They lay in puddles of destruction
Until the children found them
and cradled them
Giving them to their parents
To wind
They disgorged the moon
Which the older young
Threw to the sky
It coalesced and was joyous
The stars played
And danced
until all the lines of hate
that had creased their faces
where gone
And then in happiness
they drifted back to their vault
Where they sat in
Companionship
with the moon
Close Encounter
Sunday, July 21st, 2019Jason couldn’t stop thinking about the man
He was tall, grey, glowing and scary
But he would never forget the energy scan
On waking, Jason was struck by a plan
He had to flee as the situation was bad, very
Jason couldn’t stop thinking about the man
Later, Jason was spooked by visions of Saturn
His imagination had become interplanetary
But he would never forget the energy scan
Jason’s consciousness expanded as he ran
His mind had become uncontrollably arbitrary
Jason couldn’t stop thinking about the man
Jason’s ideas stacked like an endless caravan
Thoughts burned inside like a toxic dictionary
But he would never forget the energy scan
Jason nosedived into a time warp like a forgetful clam
His otherworldly destination felt dangerously necessary
Jason couldn’t stop thinking about the man
But he would never forget the energy scan.
By Jason Conway
Moments
Sunday, July 21st, 2019This is the moment when the clouds that had glowed so fantastically tangerine
Have faded to lead, pinning the once brilliant sky into dread certainty
The moment when the chips that had been so fine and smoothly hot
Are soggy cold and taste of stale fat
We look at each other pondering a kiss to reawaken the splendour of the night
But the fizzy beverages consumed with taste bud exploding goodness
Repeat themselves, and one of us emits an unattractive belch
Sensation is muted and any sex had would be flat or painful
And yet within these moments the remembrance of glory is enough
Moments shift and move
And now the leaden dead sky gives birth to a florid blue studded with ice gems
Tangled grey ribbons fluoresce
Moonbows show delicate colours at their rims
The Tower
Sunday, July 21st, 2019There was a tower
within the tower
fractal within
Models without
Nested ideas
Realities bloom
Stars seen
Astronomy folly
Lonely on the hill
Waiting
Pregnant with itself
Do you
Paint, drawn, write
Explore?
There was a tower
within a tower
Modelled in the tower
and so on and on
Outside a sheep bleats
And the lightning conductor
Corrodes
Numbers and stitch
Craft and design
Inovations rule
Old and new
The tower
within the tower
Is a little worse for wear
So is the viewer
And the within is without
Fractal nature
Learning at school
Will the tower
within the tower
Grow some day?
Creating
New Follies
Old follies
Seemed like
A good idea
The Tower
There are never really
bad ideas
Just different to the plan
A universe
Not bounded
Though it often seems
That way
A tower within
And one
One without
By Saffy
7 billion
Sunday, July 21st, 20197 billion minds encoding the rhthym of life
7 billion awarenesses all wired roughly along the same lines
7 billion idea sharers, pattern seeking minds that search
7 billion lives beautifully unique
7 billion hearts to feel, love… hate
7 billion hungers – some needs, some wants
7 billion people
1 is me – another is you
7 billion potential soar
A sea of blinding thought
Carrying the wave of intent
Now to space, now to the deeps
Or to carry us out of the existence
Singularity is coming
Racing on the crest of population expansion
Snowdrops
Sunday, July 21st, 2019Glinting crystals within my sight
Blood and roses mark the fight
As my eyes begin to sting
I can’t identify this thing
Is this akin to a shame
Do I shoulder all the blame?
Underneath the winter snow
Where the snow drops wait to grow
Here I wait for my doom
Twilight shadows begin to loom
My heart it twists and spins away
They say that I have gone astray
In my heart strikes the pain
They’re telling me that I’ve gone insane
Underneath the winter snow
Where the blood drops wait to grow
Images swirl within my mind
They’re seeing less than the blind
Feeling sick within the night
Searching, blinded by the light
Trapped within eternal dreams
Who out there will hear my screams?
Underneath the winter glow
Where the blood drops wait to grow
And so the beast from the cave
May bring us back from the grave
Who wants that within this age?
When pain and blood score the page
Hearing this may bring to bare
How we break for those we care
Underneath the winter glow
Where the blood drops begin to grow
Pain is striking from behind
Love and life are there to find
But for those who are lost
Lie behind the veiled frost
I want to show them this scene
hidden minds behind the screen
Underneath the moon’s winter glow
Where the blood drops begin to grow
Hurt is laying behind their eyes
At the words no more than sighs
Fear within begins to grow
At the knowledge that I know
They are lost out of sight
I wish they could see the stars so bright
Underneath the moon’s bright glow
Where the blood drops begin to grow
As the light slows and ebbs
So we must all to bed
I whisper songs to the air
Casting looks at those who stare
Pain and love go hand in hand
There to make a final stand
Stand beneath the moons bright glow
Where the blood drops begin to grow
To a river wide and bare
Waters run bright and rare
Hope to see the midnight sun
When all the colours are as one
This a song of despair
But no more for one who cares
Stand beneath the moon’s bright glow
Where the blood drops begin to flow
Moon Phase
Sunday, July 21st, 2019
I am of a blood red moon,
in the month of my woman
I am a howling she,
A praise be.
I am wolf and moon and blood,
I am of bitter truths and lunacy,
I am of wide-eyed raptures,
Finger tapping on white glass
And reflections on past,
When I call her.
She answers in her early rise,
Dinner-plated eye sized,
Remains, when sun adjoins again
At morning break,
She is glorious and stays.
She is holy and revered,
By all in love,
And lightened at the blackened pitch,
A candle in ginormous wick,
And wax and wane,
The fact remains,
She nightly nurses us all to health.
A Poem by Tish Camp ( c ) 2019
The Girls Room
Sunday, July 21st, 2019Mary and Jean’s room is such a mess
You can’t see the floor
As they have so many toys
Toys they have galore!
There are teddies, dollies
cars and trains
and don’t forget the spacecraft
and the planes!
There’s coloured blocks
buried beneath bar sheep socks
And Jean’s collection of interesting rocks
There are soft blankets to snug
Iridescent glow in the dark slugs
Dragons and monsters and more
All stuck as stickers upon the door
Plus a papier mache castle – cor!
There are dinosaurs and tigers,
butterflies and flowers
Dress up cloaks to give them super powers
A clock with brightly coloured cogs
Floppy cuddly big eared dogs
Not to mention the jumping frogs
The scattered board games
And a computer that has been tamed
A picture of a black bird framed on the wall
Books full of adventures cascade
And then as the day light fads
Two explorers find sleep hard to evade
Curled up in dozy dreams
Within a time machine
Made of blankets and bunk bed beams
It’s time for snoozing and some epic dreams!
The Dream
Sunday, July 21st, 2019The Landscape is fetid
Pustules rise from the ground
Pulsing with sickly green
I avoid them
Skipping on stockinged feet
Stripy and saggy
Toe elongate
A large witch’s hat
Looms as a cathedral
On the horizon before me
Purple velvet
The pile deep and luxuriant
The tip a spire
Reaching to a sky of pink transparency
A silver staircase twists its way up
I follow it
Dress skirts flapping with each step
At the top I stand on the tip
Balanced precariously and look
To the tangerine skyline
Where six white sales glide
Above yellow sulphur waves
Each the crescents of moons
Waiting for me
I fall and fly
Peak forgotten
I fly to them
But they are transient features
Fading before I can reach them
Leaving me fatigued above the turbulence
I fall an Icarus of this strange world
I fall and the waves reach up
Cradling me
I awake to a world – far stranger
And much more disturbing.
