What Of…

What of the dark hearts
In healthy youthdom hidden?
Sorrow and fallow fields
In apparently solid semantics.

Shadows of secrets
Growing long get cold
On night shrouded lakes,
The silver moonshine strong
To make long
Such secret lengths.

Try to contain your surprise
At senseless voyeurism
Wreathed in atavistic modes,
The unexpected come unfurled
And how bad it bodes.

Illogical grouping in youth
Is seen true little later,
Follies of laconic forever fear
Song bubbles burst like dams,
And a reality so sheer.

Softly Falls the Hammer – a poem

Softly falls the hammer blow,

Like unto

The jaws of crocodile mind

Which snap shut down

So fastly.

Laudanistic reveries teach

Us of the importance in constancy

And dangers in over-reaching

To try and stretch

Past limits.

Paradox in paradigm

Draws comparison apparent outside

Of natural law, of Time,

Away from Kronos’ rule,

Yet never beyond his immortal school.

How Pain Can Change a Person – a poem

Tis a strange thing

How pain can change a person,

Our old resolutions

Stood up and shown

To be straw men

Of hollow sounds.

In light of agony we muse

Very differently

On what we took before

For granted diligently,

As if reason and facts

Were all hunky dorey.

By way of beams

In the self and sanity,

Cracking and splintered,

We can see what we were

And the folly that powered

It thusly.

Becoming a Coffee Drinker Once More – a musing

Greetings one and all!

I hope that you all fare well in your lives and various projects.

I’ve been busy these last few weeks.

Three weeks ago I was rushing to finish my tale of wizarding Triad-like adventures, and I thankfully managed that. Why was I rushing, you may ask? The reason was due to the fact that I was going to be attending an elder cousin’s wedding in London on the weekend. So come Friday morning I was typing furiously and managed to cap the tale off. It may have a sequel, there’s certainly the scope for it, but I needed to finish it because I was starting a new job straight after the wedding.

No time to normalise or take stock or do any of the usual things one would do before a new job. So for a week I typed and got my things ready, both for the wedding and the job.

Two weeks later I am very, very glad that I finished the novel. I do not have the time now, and my rusty hand joints mean that I am in too much pain to write any more than 3/4 nights a week come the evening. Weekend’s are different, but even now (on a Saturday afternoon) I find typing a bit of a trial.

I’m currently in training at a finance company. Would never have thought I’d end up in such a place. It’s good though. Primarily because, despite all of my work experiences, I lacked knowledge of the financial industry.

Loans.

Debts.

IVA’s.

Explicit Consent and Letters of Authority.

All of these terms have become second nature for me to rattle off in the past fortnight, and I certainly have a better grasp of what finance means, and how to deal with it better in my own life.

I’ll be going bond and savings deal shopping with my first payslip.

That, and sending/giving gifts to all of those people who helped me, who stood by me, during the 14 months I spent unemployed. Sure, I was studying too, and got my TEFL teaching certificate, as well as writing like a nuclear powered story typing demon. Oh! Money will be going to the British Red Cross charity, as well.

It’s an Indian custom to use your first payslip to give out gifts.

The drinks machines at my new workplace are all free, and so I’ve begun drinking a *lot* more coffee. Between 3 to 5 cups a day. It’s not bad, and even for machine made coffee.

14 months is a long time to spend out of work, and it’s good to know that, although I am rusty, I can still perform to a good standard.

I’ll be posting a poem after this musing, just so you know I’ve still been busy writing; even if most of the work is in my head rather than on a page/screen. ;)

To all of the wonderful bloggers and readers/commenters who’ve been greatly supportive during the past year, you all have my heartfelt thanks, too. :)

Safe.

Asian Mist.

X

Candy Pizza – a review

“…In the poppy field years of seduction by peace…”

there was a book.

A book writen by a blogger.

Called Candy Pizza, by Charlotte Cuevas.

This is a poetry collection about growing up, about living life.

Prepare for whimsical moments, and lines of poetry that will catch you unawares but happy to be caught nonetheless.

Do you “…ponder… these awful clouds- whether tiny explosions on the sun could’ve caused such rain…”?

The author wonders so, and now I do, too.

The collection is at times inspiring, melodious, wondrous and yet troubling for the thoughts that it evokes.

Is growing up fun?

Not always, but being a kid and wondering why you can’t eat dessert before dinner is priceless.

A great debut poetry collection that surprises and amazes.

In short:

“…   There are things which cannot be written…”

…but you can damn well try!

You can get the Kindle edition here: http://tinyurl.com/candypizzakindle

Her blog you can find here: http://charlottecuevas.wordpress.com/2014/09/09/candy-pizza-is-here-a-video-message-from-the-author/

Highly recommend both.

Safe.

Asian Mist.

X