The Raven Tide and a small Note from Most Esteemed Six...

 

We twin birds are kings and queens...

of all hence yonder and in-between,

we sail the ocean...

green and gold,

and bring forth rice and stories told...

oh we were the ancients long ago,

and we rid the tide of its' unrequested foam...

 

A hail and a word from the Sinister Meeting Room,

If you do so please...

Ah yes we have returned,

from our roaming of long ago...

A warning,

and a twist of logic for you dear reader...

we have a new guide,

to replace Mr. Green...

whose own short self has presently disappeared,

We looked for him in the wings...

and searched in vain in the deepest parts,

so now we have decided to...

as it were,

to take heart...

your new guide is olde,

and goes by the number Six...

he traverses stormy wilderness,

and uses ants to guide his quest...

but at his heart,

he is at most...

a peculiarly lonely jest-

-er,

Absentesse...

But in regards to our call,

on this most auspicious dayy...

we invite you to stand to your feet,

and repeat the phrase at the top of this page...

 

 

Then hastening so,

for we must not dally...

you must step into your garden,

and scream eighty-two...

if this does not work,

a hole dug by a dog should do...

but one way or another,

you should progress through the ether...

your good guide Six will be waiting for you,

on mountain nine-hundred-and-ninety-two...

with a view...

A doorway into the earth,

will present itself now...

and taking care not to aim,

lest you end up firm in Spain...

you must leap through the opening,

but do not fear!

For Six's purple tail coats shall follow you there...

they will wrap about you and lower you down,

though more often than not...

he does so love to scare,

so please worry not if he lets you plummet for a time...

it's only to get your blood moving,

and to allow you the chance to fly...

Once you have landed,

on the floor made of books...

and rooks,

and old humming nooks...

Six will guide you,

down a road he once took...

  

Though this road be forgotten,

we take it well...

and usher ourselves in to a most wonderful spell,

we come across a forest...

gnarled and old,

where the trees be twisted and story-filled...

well,

that is a guarantee of swell...

Take his hand now,

and he shall blow on your knuckles...

and a peculiar thing shall occur,

a spreading of fire and a questing of thirst...

of lilac,

shall overtake you...

and then you shall begin to run,

with Six by your side,

on suddenly air-like feet...

over woods,

and vales and stormy gales...

We flee the darkness so as to see the light,

and the planets moving in orbit...

in the in-between time,

they welcome you with words...

for Lo the planets speak,

and we turn around once...

to herald the coming leaf,

for one is the same in the eyes of time...

and dear Six,

is only a passenger of thine...

you can be the guide,

and you can be the demon...

or if you like,

an angel to lead them...

we are what we were,

and fate really isn't all bad...

it is merely our perception that warps us,

and leads us to our demise.

 

Take heart dear one,

for in the end...

the strange always leaves us to rest,

in the beds we once filled...

and there is always a home,

to come back to...

though we may not see it,

for the mists that obscur...

and more often than not,

it is many a year before we find that home...

but find it we shall,

and They shall be there too...

and we shall sing the song of dear Six and Eighty-Two,

once again.

 

 

 

  We are falling...

and lately I seem to be more than in the past,

though even then I fell.

 

  These Blogs really do heal me in a lot of ways, and please...a merry greeting to you dear ones on this...the second last day of January. Hope you all survived the storms, and as always...

  

   Much Love,

   Miss CLScarlett xx

 



Tales of Washed up Bicycle wheels, Mismatched tides and Burnt feathers...



 

The sea has invaded the land...

an experience,

a feeling...

that the rain is proof we should be alive,

that I should...

when it changes,

and shifts away all pretenses of our spirits...

we are lost in its' swayy,

and really what is so wrong with being lost?

 

A long time ago in my spirit...

but a short while ago in time,

I heard music played through...

the support beams on an island I lived upon.

 

A thousand memories of mud and rain that define me...

 

Of lying amidst grass and tiny wildflowers as the rain fell,

and the wires chattered...

a scent of sadness scattered with the falling drops,

and a numbness that invaded my soul with the cold...

and did not leave for many years,

Of racing my memory boys...

 through a drenched and freezing night of long ago,

laughing madly and not caring if we slipped...

so free and barely able to hold a cup of milo afterwards,

for the tremors in our hands...

Of the coldest place imaginable,

high upon a mountain range...

in the smallest of towns,

for a mere festival...

we braved the ice and steam and dreamy things,

to wander in the mist...

 

 

All my broken hearts are jointed to the rain,

and then...

there were the warmer times,

when magic breathed like a scented dragon...

of Balinese days,

a home-calling...

in which the drops were transformative,

and we rode through an early night on the smallest of bikes...

rain was not to be feared then,

it was never so...

but,

Instead it brought out the night creatures...

and the enchanted beast faces,

the mur-people...

the shadows drifting into melted streets,

and dogs with their coats matted and wet...

guarding their stretch of sand,

of fishing nets in a heady sea...

where the people walked along the waves and coral,

a path that wound by the sea...

:]

a trancendental path almost,

men with shotguns are the norm along it...

ancient half-smiling dragons that guard buildings,

to disguise the true treasures they protect...

a trail that led to a thin forest,

where all was swallowed by the darkness...

  

 

But our eyes were lit,

from within by cat-light...

and we pulled ourselves forward through the forests' wayy,

to arrive at an abandoned shopping village...

late at night as it was,

where a final bus would only come by...

in the last scraggly hints of time,

while I swung upon a creaking swing-set...

two women,

joined me there...

they were both wise and young,

beyond their years...

with eternal sun smiles,

and a way that proved they knew me...

though we had never before met,

A vow I made and a knowledge I recieved...

that somehow this place I knew,

and was home...

in another time,

and another dimension...

Remembrance.

 

 

Still the darkness wavers and hints inside of me...

'illegitimite child' he/they purr,

how can you be...?

When every breath and step and waking hour you take,

is built trembling with an undefined disatisfaction...?

The moth gnawing will one day consume you,

so hold tight changling...

to those memories of yours,

they will light your way through the dark...

for we know that death is not tired of you yet.

 

But there is and will be peace,

in that place waiting...

alone.

 

 

 

  I've been dreaming of better things and feelings...though the dark still invades.

 

  Much Love and yearning for rain and not,

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 



A Sailing through Wind-Time....

 It's only a dream...it's only a dream...
Isn't it?

Some things merge so much that reality even becomes blurred.
In saying so...sometimes it is merely that I am just so caught up in my own thoughts that the outside, real world becomes lost to me.
And a warning...
A quote I read in the Stephen King book, The Shining...

'The sleep of reason breeds monsters' Goya.

        It reminds me of the other bits and pieces I've read and watched that tell of how getting too deep into ones mind can allow the monsters that birth there a way to grasp hold. You have opened the doors to the fathoms of your own soul, and it in itself is endless and an eternity of depths...
so how can we be surprised to find darkness and creatures lurking in some corners.
We are an ecosystem...a whole other world, where life - of a sort - grows.

That's what I long ago started believeing at least.
 



 

It's more the idea of things that I find romantic and fascinating.

When it comes to actually experiencing it, I am less happy.

Maybe it's that expectations grow too much over time,

but...

it makes for poor living when all the guises and fantasies come to an end.

 

            I was always enthralled by the idea of waiting for someone who spends there days challenging the seas.  

                  What better way to live than exchanging the act of running the guantlet in the system to running the gauntlet against nature itself?

 

Sail little ship,

sail far away...

to where the stones don't rust,

and the air is quiet...

and we don't have to hurt ourselves anymore.

 

 

Discordance has lighted my life at the moment...

and in what way, you may sayy,

A side note first, if you please...

I admire the cat greatly,

because She - the feline - reflects how I feel to be...

cats, when they are injured or about to die,

will go off by themselves to heal or die alone...

it sounds quite depressing when you say it that way,

But...

what a creature!

Mayhaps it is pride...

and I know most of you will say that,

but surely it is heart?

That a cat will spare you the heartache of seeing it die

(if you hold the feline in your heart, that is)

and deal with it by itself.

If I was dying why would I tell people?

The only reason would be to make others suffer along with myself...

where is the heart in that?

 

But I'm not dying...don't worry.

More, someone who has broken apart my family and my own life for years and years...

through no fault of her own,

is leaving us...

the straign has become too much and this disease is killing her,

and we...

can't watch this happen.

 

 

I'm sorry I'm being so mysterious,

but...

I can garuntee,

that a great part of the gloom will have lifted by March...

just a month or two to go,

then perhaps I will tell you my ailment of late...

 

My skyy is scattered with storm clouds,

while grey mists lace my thoughts and ways...

my greyhound curls into impossible shapes,

and a brightening of eyes and lengthening of my mind...

comes to me with this rain,

there is an awakening in this air...

that sweeps across our land,

the streets take on new faces and masks...

and winter invades again,

we cross bridges with our souls perched...

in the darks of our eyes and the hollows of our bones,

seekers seeking a wanted thing...

that we have both feared and longed for,

the ocean writhes with kraken...

and he sees between our fears,

of darkest nights and murky depths...

a blue murk that stretches from sea to sea,

an ear to hear...

who has?

We wish our wishes away,

and follow trails...

between ails,

what does ail?

Us.

  

 

A quiet breaking of bread and late Christmas warmth to brighten your way...

dear friend.

Be well.

 

 

 

Much Love dear ones on this rainy morning,

 Miss CLScarlett xx

The Eleven Dark Islets that float in my Sea...we are washed away, we are washed away...

 

'Theres something in the look you give,
I can’t help myself I fall,
I can’t help myself at all,
Theres something in your touch when we kiss
I scream God forgive me please,
‘Cause I want you on your knees,
I don’t wanna think about it now,
I know I wont get out if I fall in,
So I dont wanna think about it now,
It’s dark in my imagination,
It’s dark in my imagination,
Theres something in the look you give,
Are you giving it to her ‘cause I’m not entirely sure,
Can’t help but wonder where you’ve been all day,
Just say when im so far away that you give yourself a taste,
‘Cause I dont wanna think about it now,'

         
          This song has been playing on my soul lately, and if you're curious to hear it, then I invite you to watch the video I've posted at the end of this Blog. It's a song called Dark in My Imagination by Verona, I believe. The first time I listened to it, it echoed out to me...and brought me again to that other place...through the doorway to eternity for a while. Perhaps the only downside is that everything else is seeming stale compared to this song, which is a weird thing to say, I know, but it's the effect it gives to me.

However...
onto lighter matters, as one could sayy.
 



 

I travel back to my time....

Have you ever felt that you were outside of time,

or that more and more of the world is leaving you behind?

Why is it...

that we are born fractured?

and that those fractures grow the longer we allow,

 the web of the world to bind us in its' suffocating embrace...

 

A small summer tune to light your way...

tendrils curl in the sky today,

Eaves  are swayed with the dust-wind that blows...

and long grass stalks are all you know,

Heated cement cracks beneath the light...

of a beyond-blue sky,

and wider moons at night...

Snails trail the paths through grit and earth,

while melodies carry to lands beyond earth...

white-washed stones lead to a road by the sea,

in which you call to the myths there through the holes in the piers...

Ice water embraces you through swarmy summer haze,

while cockleshells and Mir-green shawls swim about your ankles in the waves...

a current tugs you to a tiny inlet,

where rainforest's droops and sand is gold and felt...

Quetzel's dance in the trees above,

and starfish dream of the ocean that they have been thrown from...

A way it presents itself through the brush,

scattered with precious stones and tiny bones...

regal offerings of life and death,

which insure that your journey is granted, blessed...

You happen across a cave,

spun with Jasmine hue...

and inviting you in to a cool blue gloom,

you wander along a trail that sparkles...

with fractured mirrors built into the walls,

and suddenly you come across a well made of pale stone....

and into its' depths you cast down your eyes below,

A scattered image of your true face...

and then a flare of brilliance down there, unknown, in place,

It races up towards you...

as if it knew you were there,

 

 

 

In a minute you experience a sensation of charm...

of knowledge and understanding,

and a returning home...

you understand finally that being lost is not being gone,

and that the road to heartland was just obscured by shadow and gloom...

we are never truly gone indeed,

just lost in the labyrinth...

of our own screaming thoughts,

then the light is upon you and you pass by all of that...

as the Brilliance it fills you and then spreads to the earth,

the machines cease their creaking...

while the farmers stop in their fields,

the sun and sky grow quiet...

and the trees begin to sigh,

Father time gives us a century or two...

to while away the hours,

and release our glooms...

and then you are back on the beach,

with someone you know...

a candle to keep the dark away,

in your own small life...

a hut tilting into an ever-present breeze,

and a place to lay your head without unease.

 

Welcome home,

go ripzinma oxpsu...

we have always loved you.

 

 

Just wanted to say that all the artwork I put on my Blog are small sparks of light that I have found here and there on the Internet, none of it is mine, and I love all you artists out there. xx

 

 

 

  Hoping you are all surviving whichever season you are in both in the world and yourself.

Have a wonderful January of this our 2013.

 

  Much Love,

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

  P.S. If anyone, at any time wanted to email me about anything, from the desire to go unicorn-hunting to just desiring to have someone to talk to, email me on: C.L.Scarlett@hotmail.co.uk

 

 

  



 

 

The Labyrinthia Wireless Tale-Teller...

 

 

Wings...I give to you,

a vow...

a misguided promise,

Will you run away with me?

 

Life,

the time-moths...

are wearing down at my bones,

and each hour and day...

the chaos grows in both my ears,

A wall of hatred and confliction...

emotions that are too vulgar to be mine,

 

We are conflictions and paradoxes...

We are tired.

 

The stolen moon looks back down at us,
as we sleep....
and grow our night-wings.

I was once told a story...
that every child has a bird that nests in their heart,
and that whenever they fell asleep...
it would emerge to watch over them while they dreamt,
Only sometimes it leaves...
when we grow older,
or it is taken from us...
and I wonder,
at what point is it that our hearts' bird decides to leave us?
Maybe it got too crowded in there,
with all the other gloomy emotions that build up...
but,
I feel that sometimes...
it still visits us,
and allows us to remember...
again.

Have you ever...
visited the village by the wretched sea?
Broken bread with a merman?
Played Russian Roulette with the shadows and darkness?
Heard the drums of the earth?
Waited for Jack Frost?
Been so cold that you were soo warm?
Heard the Rain-wolf cry out?

I shall tell you another story...
that of the Rain-wolf.
He comes in the in-between moments,
in the flashes of spray made by large trucks, road and pouring rain...
the glimpses of otherly things,
and the terrible screaming...
when the door is left just ajar in a high-wind,
is his cry...
He pulls his way through sleep shadows,
and garden mist...
to stand beside us through all,
He is the guide for the wayward soul...
the lost child,
the frightened kid...
the moody delinquent,
He cares not for what you've done...
he is only there to guide you to where you are going.




 

 

 

       Missing and loving wide air and Christmas carols and the meditation of writing for hours on end. As is, work is so intense that I seem to just conk out whenever I have spare time. So these Blogs are in-between-breezy-ones, and I do apolagise for how inconsistent they are.

 

   I still love you all, and I promise you that February is going to bring a lot of new material that I'll be posting up here, including....ba, ba, ba....my 21st birthday. :]

 

 

    Much Love and ten-metre-wide-lollipops,

 

   Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 



A round of Chesnut Bolters and a miriad of Human fidlings...oh my oh may

 

 

Alive, real...

 

 

You can feel it in your blood...like a whirring, fizz-burst pulse,

 as though your lifestream were a schnapps drink...

an absentmindedness.

It's funny, what constitutes as real,
or as reality...

Take the idea of the sky, or the sky itself.
We know that the sky is blue,
and that it really is only a result of a magic trick of light and particles...
but what if,
the thing we believe is blue...
is actually red?
What if blue is red,
or that when you see blue I see red?

I mean we can't know for sure? Can we...:]

Of my life right now....
a collection of fragments;

Alpakas that can only partially be built,
greyhound skin against earth,
discarded cider bottles and...
brief sparks,
flashes and reaching growths,
of the branches of the trees that nest in my skull...
illuminated doors into eternity,
flare to life...
dragons watching me from beyond my computer screen,
and from between my thoughts...
cats that wrap about my feet and,
dreams...
Shadow thoughts chase delusions through my labyrinth,
and pinpoints of flame and vision illuminate my way...
despite the darkness,
and he is there...
a thousand different faces but in the end,
only one.

'We are a cursed breed Dr. Watson,
a cursed breed...
we do what we don't
and we don't what we do...
and neither really matter,
because the more we loved the more it was taken...
yet some part of it still remained,
and that mattered.'

I had a thought,
to collect every cider bottle I ever drink and do something with them.
To not just let them be scrap and old and worn things,
but something that could change and survive...
new ideas are coming to me,
and lately what has filled my heart has been whinnie the poo.
(Other things - a certain friend too - have also filled me).
But it's such an older and lovely tale,
and there's so many truths about what the characters say in it...
such simple beautiful truth.

Of the earth I miss these things:

a creature I love which was taken by the darkness.
a ghostland I love but was moved from my sight.
a friend I love but who is miles away from me.

One day everything we've lost will return to us.
But until then the monsters still lurk...
But we continue.

Much Love,

 

  and hoping that my computer will soon be fixed and allow me to upload more pictures here.

 

Miss CLScarlett xx

 



La La Luna...

 

 

A small bow of greeting,
to you dear friend...

a pat on the back and a gift of choice,

to listen to these few words I will expell...

to you,

'I happened to be floating on a cloud the other week,

dots appearing on my hands...

I stepped down the staircase of atoms and ice whisps,

and made my way through the lands...

A kite it soared in my head every evening and dawn,

while the sparrows collected tears and bees...

and the moths sung softly to my ears,

The moon was a neon sign...

and it pulsed with pure silver light,

alive and magnificent...

imprinted in the space between my mind and skull,

Music was a yarbling force that snuck into my pores....

Curled itself up in the finest of ways,

and then I fought my demons...

a worrying bunch,

a pale man in a white suite...

the colour of small crushed bones,

his legs were like a spiders and three metres long at least...

or most,

A face frozen solid he scattered around...

but left me be for a short time,

then came the boiling mass...

a shifting chaos of dark limbs,

But no hands or feet or body parts,

just these limbs...

when black suite becomes the very skin,

whatever I envisioned appeared in the mass...

an eye,

a grasping hand...

then it too swirled away,

and look who decided next to play....

a grotesque version of my dear Sodom,

Thinly stretched like phantom or gouel...

wavering slightly,

violently...

as though he were about to move,

his eyes faced ever at me...

with a yawning grin of teeth like razors,

an impossible grin that would make one scream...

He stared at me and he wouldn't let me go,

and in his right hand was a mannequin doll...

that shone a horrible bright white light,

a cold light....

Eventually I escaped the chaos and noise,

to a more peaceful spot...

of green and gold,

I shall be absent for a short time...

no longer than a breath,

but I daresay you my friend...

will be far more older,

set firmer in the earth.

 

 

  Love, love, love you all,

 

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 



A Jolly Good Revolution Mr. Jones...a jolly good old one, harharharhar



I have been struck with a vision...

 

   Maybe it was part of what I was born to do...and I don't even know where exactly I fit into the picture in regards to the whole subject I'm about to talk to you about.

 

And I know you guys - my beloved readers - don't like too many deep and heady subjects...

 

      I don't even like it too much, though I do seemed to be plagued by notions of gloom and end-time scenarios and so on. Meaning, even though a lot of this haunts me so much...I find that mainly one of the only ways to cope is to write and choose to look at it all with a mindset that is familiar to me.

 

What I mean...is that I want to really start something...

 

      Do you ever feel like (putting aside the fact that so much of the media is yabbing about this subject all the time pretty much, as well as various websites and books.) everything is beginning to clash together, that something in the way the world and everything is is reaching a tipping point? That things can't keep going on like this...that the noose is tightening a bit more heyy?

 

I'm not trying to be religious or stuff anything down your throat...but what I am trying to do is just say this stuff...so I don't go mad and so that there feels to be more of a possibility of being prepared if something happens.

 

Things have been happening.

    America...falling slowly over the cliff towards what will most probably be another recession, a police state almost becoming what we are in the West, with how insane and small all the laws are that can damn us in the most humiliating and excessive way. We are a herd of cows to them , providing our money and them trying to ensure that we can be as miserable as we like...just as long as we don't die and continue doing what they want us to do.

We are living in a prison...and I can't bare where I feel this all to be going.

 

So....

 

    If you're somehow still reading after that dark and depressing rant, I wanted to say that there is also a way to still have freedom. What if I called...to all the mad men and women, confused lovers, artists of all kinds, dancers, wearers of long and shameless hair, those who are considered less and those who are considered more, those of the light-filled mines and those haunted by shadows...all those that are the different and lonesome.

If I called to you, and you answered and we all vowed here and now...that one day, if it ever gets really bad that we feel something truly must be done. We will hold freedom in our hearts because we will answer the call. That if things became like that we would still remain unchanged and people who own their own minds and that will find a way.

 

What is lost is merely hidden by a few turns in the road and shadows...a mere trick of the light...

it is only continuing to search...that will enable us to find.

 

Make your own small differences and rebellions.

     I'm not talking about going out to a store and refusing to pay the GST because its' a useless and evil tax. It's nice to glide through though. I'm talking about the sort of bad where free speach and right has been taken or squashed down to almost nothing. It's the enemy of art, and we must continue...despite that.

   If the officials of then in our future wish to beat me over the head because I wrote something that was considered politically-incorrect I think I'll bare the punches with a grin.

 

:D

 

   So....ahm, aside from all of that, my 2013 so far has been one of inspiration and ideas...and an increased feeling of time speeding up. But, amongst those ideas is one that I have begun to believe will be the magnum opus of my written works one day: aka, when I'm published. I can't tell you what it's about, as it's, ahm...top secret, hush hush but what I will say is that: think of one of those magnificent trees...that has roots that go down to every point of life and the globe...an everything tree.

If you can envision that, you can envision something of my book.

 

 

     I'll leave you with the comment that I had a magnificent day today...with a dear friend who here I shall call Rose :] , and who with I saw the movie les miserables today, an equally magnificent movie that reconciled me in so many ways of heart and mind. :]

 

 

    Much Love,

 

   Miss CLScarlett xx



 

 

The Regal Emnity of the Numeral Three...

 

Every story has a start...

and this is mine.

I have decided that the numeral three is important here...

hence why I have Blogged first in 2013,

on the third day of its' reign...

There are places I wish I could return to,

or people that I was before...

this.

The time-moths were quieter back then...

and I never quite felt myself,

who I really was...

despite that,

There was one season,

around about Easter...

when I spent a few nights at a music festival,

we stayed in little blow-up tents...

and it was so cold,

that it was like a physical being...

one became so chilled that,

it was as though part of our soul had been blown away...

I'd retreat often to a place called,

The Chai Tea Tent...

where they'd serve such a delicious version of the drink,

in little paper cups...

the tables were low and surrounded by cushions in there,

and you could listen to unknown local music...

for hours at a time,

These were the lonely days...

of rain,

and long walks down abandoned roads...

or running without knowing where I was headed,

Painting walls and dreaming of ghosts...

the fear, the ecstasy and the sadness,

kind of all merged into one...

you know?

But things shift...

and change,

and right now my life is quite light-filled...

but even with the gorgeous light added to my life,

there are still the shadows.

 

 

I also, have discovered the resolutions for this coming year I wish to complete:

 

- Have my first book in my series edited and sent out to publishers and agents by the years end.

- Finish the last few items on my end-of-world list (aka, getting or starting to get my licence, inventing something, running again, and a few other bits and pieces...)

- Change the way I feel about the world and life at the moment, to something better.

 

 

  They're just a few....but you know, it really does seem that whenever I write something down or say something...it comes about. You know, words are powerful and all that. :]

 

   Going to see les miserables tomorrow with a dear friend, and wanted to leave you with this thought:

 

    Run the race. Forget the shame.

 

  

  Much Love and luck with your own resolutions...

 

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 

  PS. Sorry this hasn't been a better Blog, just wanted to say heyy...shoot the breeze for a bit you know?