Out past the blinking lights of electric existence, far beyond the polluted horizons- A single cry echoes across the clamouring earth. From the dirtied, used, ruined bellies of haggard mistakes falls an angel. Never has anything purer graced the soil upon which that miracle lays- For this glorious moment, all of human filth, destruction, hatred, … Continue reading Children Of Men
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A Fictional Letter Of Unrequited Love.
My dear, how do I tell you I love you so that it rings truer than any other triplet of words you’ve heard? So that the sincerity, the profundity, of my honest convictions can permeate into the depths of your well-kept soul. This conundrum would deprive me of countless nights of summer night’s sleep during … Continue reading A Fictional Letter Of Unrequited Love.
Tired
Sat down at a creaking desk, With a broken pen and rusty hands, I write this down; The draft from the window gives my skin a texture, My coffee is cold. It’s raining outside again - I’m yawning once more Huddled in a borrowed jumper, I’ve almost found the right words – But not … Continue reading Tired
Pray For Rain
I think perhaps I may have prayed too hard for rain; The white clouds have been bruised, beaten purple with my insistent demands Water squeezed, stolen from the pores of the empty skies Terrified fling themselves to the Earth - No, it is not water that falls, but tears Tears falling down from her heavenly … Continue reading Pray For Rain
An Existence In Art – Chaos Theory
I watch as the stars swim in and out of existence, serenely oblivious to the screaming disarray on Earth Silently dipping, twinkling, dancing across the vacuum of infinity just above me. I bring my eyes down to the chaos beneath my warm fingertips, but even this mess has an order Everything I touch has a … Continue reading An Existence In Art – Chaos Theory
Ashes to Ashes Dust to Dust
Walking through wildflowers in spring, My throat red-raw from screaming your name. Walking in the footsteps of ghosts, Running my fingers across the bark that you touched. Echoes of us still swirl around in the wind, Or at least in skies in my mind. For each twig snapping, leaf moving, I turn around expecting you … Continue reading Ashes to Ashes Dust to Dust
Continuation of story part two
Chapter four The week my father was home passed so quickly I thought I had only imagined that he had been here. My Grandmother had been preoccupied with writing letters and organising my entry into polite society – although a little late for my age (19) she still felt it was necessary and proper, but … Continue reading Continuation of story part two
Continuation of story
Chapter three We were met by the Addie –Adeline-, our handmaid at the door, she was a sweet plump woman with curling grey hair and nimble fingers, and she smiled fondly at me and nodded her head with respect for my father as she took his bags through the door. As we walked through the … Continue reading Continuation of story
Continuation of a story
This is the end of the untilted experimental introduction and the following chapter. I met the cart where the path met the gravel in front of the house, just in time for my father to jump down and bring me into his arms. I breathed in his familiar smell and brushed my nose against … Continue reading Continuation of a story
An experimental introduction
As I lay there on that cool grass, the sunshine pooling around my bare feet, with a battered book face down on my chest, I closed my eyes and breathed in the honeyed air of the summer and just was. Inhaling the clear watery notes mixed with freshly cut grasses and the comforting scent of … Continue reading An experimental introduction
Alicia Jones Poetry 