In Between Places.

Her favourite places,
Are in between spaces,
Bridges in twilight,
Beaches at midnight...

Her favourite lies
All used to be true,
Her favourite stories
Were lives that she knew,

Her favourite spaces, 
Are in between places.

The Mad Lighthouse Keeper.

Upon a jagged and lonely rock,
Atop a shoddily built old tower,
He looks across an endless sea,
He knows and sees his power,

He delights in murderous storm,
He delights in clashing wave,
Most of all, he does delight in,
Sending men to an untimely grave,

He laughs when he sees a ship,
Floating like a silent ghost,
How he laughs in dark delight, 
When in falls against his coast, 

His light, it is his joy,
He turns it on and off,
At his whim, souls are lost,
Like a candle to a moth.

SKIES WITHOUT STARS

I miss the sparkling of countess silver spheres,
Which reach us by traveling for hundreds of years,
But divine lady Venus, I miss you the most,
And count you the Queen of the Heavenly Host,
You always hide your face, from day light,
But here we cannot admire you,  even at night,

Time.

The early Victorian period is often romanticised in modern literature and film. The intellectuals in that time knew that their world was hellish and romanticised the medieval period.  Which was horrendous,  and in which people romanticised the classical period. In the classical period, they romanticised a Golden Age which may or may not have ever existed.

I pity the poor bastards in the future who will romanticised our age.

Seeing in mist and shadows,
Makes the stars shine brighter,
After lifetime's of darkness,
Endless evenings seem lighter,

Virgin lips and virgin shores,
Hold far sweeter treasures,
Than home's long open doors ,

We upon this Earth ,
Are born always to die,
Human Souls - like eagles -
Were made only to fly.

Moonlight Sentinel.

The stars are black,
And they are falling,

The wolf,  with distain
Is mournfully calling,

Unrequited luna love,
The Sky's unfurling.

Last Nights of Summer.

Bats in the twilight,
Butterflies of the night,
Dance in the bleeding sky,
Watching the sun die,

A gentle breeze dancing,
So silently hailing
The approach of thunder,
To strike all asunder,

Soaring before the tempest,
Smashing the night's rest,
Hammering the sky,
As lightning bolts fly,

Yet storms are healing,
Bringing one a feeling
Of peace, after rain,
Tomorrow, bats fly again.

Hungry

The Vampire does not care
For the clothes you wear,
Or the sweet smell of your hair,

Your beauty pleases the beast,
Lust, it feels at least,
Yet, 'tis hungry for the feast,

When it holds your body tight,
One thought fills its sight,
Your blood, alone, is its delight.

Spectators on The Shining Path, part 4

   She stayed in my fortress for over three moons. As I expected, she worked well, and my men respected her stength and wisdom. We became close, a little too close.
   I learnt to perform most tasks with my left hand and saw her struggle bravely on her wounded leg.

   From the window of my tower, I watched the sun set over the purple fells.
   Molly entered my room without knocking, which was unlike her.
   She wore a fadded grey robe, which she silently removed to reveal herself. I do not expect you to believe me when I tell you that it was the first time that I noticed quite how beautifull she was.
   'I want you,' she said simply,' take me now.'
   My shock must have been apparent.
   'We need to breed more soldiers for the next war,' she explained, as though it was obvious.
   'Lady... Molly... I think not.'
   The change rolled across her like a summer storm. She snatched up her robe, and her pretty face was contorted with rage.
   'Sir, you insult me mortally- and I demand satisfaction,' she said.
   I put down my horn of wine and took stock of the situation.
   'As the challenged party, I have the choice of weapons,' I stated.
   'Yes,'
   'Then I choose hammers which are so heavy that they are impossible to lift... Molly, we live in a brutal age, and sometimes it is good to do impossible things.'
 

The Spectators on The Shining Path, part 3.

   I woke up in agony and could not feel my right hand. When I could open my eyes, I saw the wounded girl looking down on me. I looked up at her icy blue eyes and saw pity.
   'You'll live,' she said,' the healer has worked strong magic.'
   'It's called medicine,' I grunted, then remembered myself. 'How are you, lady? I did not expect to see you again.'
   'I was curious, if you would live or die.'
   'I see...'
   'I too was once a Knight of the Shining Path.'
   'There are not many of us left.'
   'Proably because of their ridiculous policy of forbiding shields.'
   'Maybe... Please pass some water.'
   I struggled to sit up, then drank. Only then did I inspect my right hand. Despite the heavy, bloodstained bandages, it was clear that I had lost three fingers. Only the thumb and index finger remained. 
   'Let's get out of here,' I said,' it reeks of blood.'
   She helped me back to camp and cooked us some soup. After that, I drank the last of my wine and slept.

   It was midafternoon when I woke again. My body was in severe pain, including phanton pain in my missing fingers- which seemed unfair. Again, she was stood over me.  
   'I've got some magic pebbles to help with the pain,' she said.
   I inspected the tablets.
   'They are called "more-fean"' I said, then added,' thank you. I don't even know your name, why are you helping me?'
   'My name is Molly... I'm helping you because when my leg was smashed there was no one to help me, and it was shit.'

   The next day, I went to the tourney market and bought a pair of metal gauntlets. They served to both hide and reduce my injury.
   We live in a brutal age, and must hide all weakness.

   When the tourney was over, we were on the road again. It was logical to travel together, and I had offered Sir Molly a job as guard and enforcer in my holding. I would need another pair of hands, and knew that my men would respect her experience. 
     

The Spectators on the Shining Path. PART 2.

   

 
I woke at dawn and doned what passes as armour these days- a steel breast plate, helmet and leather glooves. I ate a few sausages for breakfast, then sharpened my axes. Not that they needed the maintanance, but it was a ritual I favoured.
   At midday, I was to fight in the melee.

   "Ladies and gentlemen, in the red corner stand Sir Karl, Knight of the chalace. In the green corner, Dan of Suffolk. In the blue corner, Sir Mary, knight of the Golden Light. In the white corner, Grace the Tall. In the silver corner, The Namesless Knight of the Shining Path."

   That was I, a Knight of The Shining Path, stood in a corner of the Melee Pentagon... waiting for the crowd to stop cheering so we could start butchering each other.

   The problem with the melee is that someone is always going to be outnumbered at the begining. Maybe 2-3 or 2-1, but it's always going to happen. 
   Which was exactly what happened to me when Sir Mary and Grace the Tall decided that I was an easy target. Sir Mary came at me with round shield and sword, and Grace with her massive spear.
   I'm still not comfortable with the idea of fighting ladies... but maybe that is just an excuse for how easily they thrashed me. Grace maimed my hand as I lashed out at her spear, and Sir Mary side stepped round my guard and knocked me out cold.

The Spectators on The Shining Path

   I arried late to the tourney. Tardyness is normally something which I would avoid like the plague, but I was waylaid by brigands on my journey, and a fellow must play with the cards he is delt. Because of that, I was forced to pitch my tent at the rear of the grounds, with the servents and peasents.
   Haing struck camp, I relaxed with a sack of wine and took a good luck around me. 
   To my left, a buxom serving girl was roasting a huge quantity of ribs. To the right, another girl was sat by her camp fire. She immediatly caught my eye.
   'Are you here to compete?' I called out to her.
   For we live in a brutal age, where women must defend themselves through feats of arms as surely and stoutly as a man.
   'No sir', she replied.
   'You suprise me,' I said, as she had a fierce look about her.
   She gestured subtly to her right leg. Between her britches and boots, was a scar. In fact, it was the most horrendous wound that I have ever seen on a living body, it was asthough her flesh had been torn apart then folded back together.  
   'Why would I try to do something impossible, when I cannot even do something simple?' she said.
   Then she hobbled off to collect firewood.
   Being weary, I fell asleep before she returned.

   To be continued... 

Everything is forever,  so nothing is forever.

TUNNELS UNDER KENDAL, PART TWO

By her late twenties,  she had already abandoned Christianity and flirted with then shunned Buddhism. They held no solution to her deep, dark terrors. She was, she believed, alone in a godless, meaningless and terrifying universe. Nothing, not even fear, mattered.

Thus, she found herself ready to face her fears, her demons, her tunnels under Kendal.

Finally she was ready to face the darkness under her town.

That was how she found herself crawling alone in the dark on a chilly spring morning. It had not rained for days, so she had opted to explore the tunnel where Blindbeck, now just a trickle of water, disappeared under the streets.

After only a few moments in darkness, she heard a shrill fluttering. Seconds later, tiny wings and claws scratched against her face. It was gone as suddenly as it appeared and she was alone in the darkness again. She crawled onwards.

And onwards, and did not return.

THE KINGS OF THE NORTH, part 2.

   Once, in his youth, he had marches beside Bonnie Prince Charlie. He had seen The King Across The Water- The Pretender, the King of the North- lead his Highlanders from the front. He had seem his king throw away his scabbard as he rushed into battle. He had, then, seen his armies crumble and fall.
   Now he was always waiting.

   "Why ever not?" his friends were tired of him saying. "Why not a King in the North? Why must we be ruled by Southerners, Saxons?"
   And he waited, and kept his pistols loaded and his sword sharp.
  
   As he waited, his king grew old and debauched. The Bonnie Prince drowned his sorrows on French wine in exile. He drowned his lust whoring on French beauties.
   
   And his loyal servant was always waiting.   

The Silver Elephant, part 3

It is wrong to steal, and know one likes a thief… but as my uncle always says,’ treasure is treasure.’

That little elephant became mine, and I was wondering what was so special about it… when the Ninja struck.

She swung up from the trees and landed- katana at the ready.

She lept towards me and I dodged aside.

She stabbed at me and I jumped away.

Then the cage began to rock.

As the floor swung under us, I fell. The Ninja fell on top of me.

With on hand she begun to strangle ne, with the other she reached for the elephant.

The cage swung again and we fell apart. I rolled out and fell down into the lagoon. As I fell, I lost my grip on the silver elephant.

A moment later, I heard the silver elephant singing to me.

Immediately, I dived down for it..

Through that clear water, past those strange fish, i saw to the elephant. I grasped it, and swam up again.

There was no sign of the Ninja, so I swam to shore where my family were waiting.

It was a pretty little thing, that elephant. It was a bit bigger than my thumb and beautifully carved, but I could not see why it was a ‘Great Treasure.’

‘This is not THE Silver Elephant, lad,’ Uncle bloodbeard explained,’ but it will lead us to the real one.’

Back on ship, Aunty June put the elephant on our map of ‘Out East’ Then she began to sing a slow, sweet song in a language which i did not know.

That little elephant sang back to her and started walking across the map. It was- at that time- the strangest thing which I had ever seen..

The elephant did not have far to walk. It soon sat down on an island not far from us, and stopped singing.

‘We’ve got it!’ I shouted.

‘Only half lad,’ my uncle reminded me.

The name of the tiny island where the elephant sat was ‘Monkey Island. That was where we sailed. Castaway Island did not have real castaways, so I wondered if Monkey Island would have real monkeys.

It did.

As soon as we landed on the shore, a family of monkeys ran out of the tree line, showing their fangs and screaming.

My family easily eat them of with the spades they were carrying, but the monkeys were almost as big as me. I was wrestled to the sand. O held it by its neck and kept it at arm's length. Then a second monkey started scratching and biting at my leg.

Luckily, Johnny came to my rescue. He fired his pistol into the air and scared off the monkeys.

As my aunt bandaged my led, I looked around the island. It looked about a mile long, was covered in palm trees, and had a steep mountain in the middle. I hoped that my family did not plan to dig up the entire place.

Fortunately not.

Bloodbeard took the silver elephant out of his pocket and put it down on the sand. As soon as aunt june sang to it, it started walking. We followed. It had tiny legs, so we followed it for hours.

I hoped that we would find the treasure before the Ninja attacked again.

We followed it up to the top of the mountain, where it stopped singing and sat down. Then we dug.

It did not take long before we hit solid silver. We dug carefully around it.

Down and down we dug. Wider and deeper. Hour after sweaty hour.

Then it was finally there… in a pit, 3 yards deep and 9 yards wide…

A life sized silver elephant.

‘Wow!’ I gasped. ‘The greatest treasure on Earth!’

‘Yes, and we found it,’ aunty june smiled.

‘Quite an adventure, eh?’ Uncle bloodleard roared.

‘Aye, but how will we get it back to the ship?’ I asked.

‘What lad?’ Aunty June asked.

‘It must weigh 20 tons, how will we move it?’ said I.

‘Don’t be daft lad, what on earth would I want all that silver for?’ said Bloodbeard.

Johnny and Aunty June laughed.

I could not see the joke.

‘It’s all about the adventure, lad,’ Johnney told me.

‘What? Why did we go all this way? I could have died… Why?’

‘For the adventure,’ said loodbeard. ‘To find the treasure. We got the whole lot, not half! That can very be taken from us,’ said Bloodbeard.

Aunty Jane and Johnny nodded.

That was that. We went home.

I did not understand my family in those days.

We were different from other people.

The End.

Tunnels Under Kendal

It was the sinister uncertainty that bothered her. The dark possibilities under her feet.

It started with rumours  in her teenage years, and grew through analysis of the local geography. She observed the rivers which appeared and disappeared, and the limestone which was so prone to forming caves. She also studied the history and folklore of underground tunnels and secret passages.

And always more rumours… of tunnels under Kendal.

The tunnel from the castle to the old dairy .. the tunnel from the river to the market. .. the points where Blind Beck disappears... the abandoned bomb shelters. ..

How many more where there that she had yet to learn about?

More importantly,  who or what could be under her feet at any moment?

At night, she heard scraping and scratching in the darkness under her bed. By day she expected the ground to collapse under her feet with every step.

By her early twenties, she avoided walking along the river, or on Wildman Street or Lowther Street,  as both were known to be above tunnels. She also never slept on the ground floor of any building.

But on the other hand, she became more and more obsessed with researching the vaults and buried streets of distant cities.

Edinburgh, in particular, fascinated her.

Yet none of that gave her much comfort.  Paranoia and the exhaustion of sleepless nights gnawed her heart.

To be continued.

Life without love is like a rifle with no bayonet, in that there is no point to it.

Tree of Lost Souls.

Tree of Lost Souls, my illustrated story for children, is finally finished and available to order.
It follows the spiritual journey of a Vietnamese girl through a haunted house and her own fears.

Forest's Abyss.

Recently printed this book of poetry and art with Ash Turton. On sale for £10. Email aki198371@gmail.com for more information.