Seeing the Reflection Backwards...

 

When the pink blossoms turn...

and you lift your mask,

we can slip through the shades and angles...

to find our true heart.

 

[The smallest of proverbs...ring true ring true...]

 

The lights are all out tonight...

and we have chosen to stand alone,

to step into the grey beneath the wires...

and stare into the storm,

we hear it coming through the ground...

a tremendous rumbling threat,

of fractured clouds and tearing heat...

the vicious suffocation of weighed down sweat,

we bear to ill...

until the sky breaks apart,

and we fall within....

as the acid washes away with the wet,

singe this old city black...

as it crumbles and frays into another kind of life,

'Can we have your heart?'

The stones whisper to you...

'Can it we devour?'

The alley cats hiss too...

You find your way to the wharf by the sea,

where sea monsters eat the dredges of fear...

where coral chokes daylight from the reef,

and pale creatures swim through our dreams...

 

Leap up from the water,

 and across the rooftops with me,

fly above the city dust...

Feel the ice hardening on the power line,

and the bronze cooling in the rust...

the hearts we have lifted up,

and a small story we have to tell...

whispered to hidden ears above the arch,

where shadows screech and forgotten thoughts lurk...

 

There was a creature destined to die,

and a moth that wanted to live...

I remember a wing being crushed against the ground,

and a heart slowing its' breath...

I know its eyes were bright,

and that the murk upon its' wings hid colour...

that a moth is really just,

the song devoid of image...

a silent symphony,

called Shudder.

 

The meaning of this has been lost to us...

and we forget the shape of our hands.

 

The width of our heart...

and the length of our breath.

 

I have rung the bell....

so that we can pass forward into the river,

and find our shadows amongst the depths...

so we can see our blood let from the touch of cold stones,

and feel in us alive...

something we were before.

 

We run barefoot through ice-heavy fields...

and through dew-eaten logs we sneak,

to find slumbering beings...

old as the earth,

old as time...

whispering through the twigs,

We see the One...

We hear the One,

and we know the One...

who calls us on,

through the amber glades...

and always-dark brooks,

where eyes peer up through water reeds and gloom...

secret secretes its weight on us,

as we swarm to places further...

 

 

The rain is heavy,

the rain is heavy...

it makes for us a bed between the branches that sway,

as the grey clouds close in tight...

and the cold wind reaches through,

to touch and caress your rib cage with icy fingers...

Sweep us away and beyond,

what time has decided for us...

so we can remember again the hows and whys of our reflection,

take us down to rest...

against bare sand and glades,

where small trails lead to small shells...

and the smallest of homes for our tears,

sent away from here.

 

To beyond There....

 

  Hi There dear others...

    Time is falling around me...and time is stopping. It's peculiar...the last day I spent in Airlie. My alarm clock broke so I decided to wait the night out. I remained awake for over a day...and it's incredible what my mind dragged up for me to think about. So many thoughts and ideas and theories and possibilities...endless and unceasing. Eventually you start to see a light, but one that is wholesome or not sometimes escapes me.
   I'm also reading Duma Key by Stephen King...and it has made me think of Lindeman again...again. So many ghosts on that island.

   I hope you are finding a good light in your own lives...

   Much Love,
Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

Of our Dark and Forgotten Thoughts and a Small Slice of Paradise...

We caught the moon in the trees the other night...

we stole its' place in the sky,

we bled it of its' inky blue...

and chained it to the earth,

it cries its' silver tears...

every evening and morn,

whispering things that we have forgotten how to understand...

and humming its' eerie song,

we had lost our hearts you see...

and had forgotten how to feel,

we felt no pity for the moon we had ensnared...

we did not know that we were wrong,

we watched it age...

as the years they decayed,

and our hair grew white and long...

we saw it there as the rocks and land were worn away,

and when they too forgot who we were...

Now our children sit on the bare earth,

and stare up at the chained moon...

they tell each other how monsters trapped it,

chained it down...

how perhaps if its' light was freed,

the world would heal again...

Then one day a soul decided that something had to be done,

he was in love with the moon you see...

and it tore his heart apart to see her in chains,

yet her bonds' were like ice...

and unflinching to his touch,

and so he screamed to the dark skies above...

'create me as something else,'

the world it heard his cry...

and the forgotten language came to his ears,

'we will grant your wish earth soul...

if you would feed to us your heart,'

the man it was said cried then...

for it was more than he expected to give,

yet his love was true and as he turned his face up...

he whispered once more,

'let me become what I will...

yet allow my actions to free the moon,

untie her from her chains of steel...

and allow her to fly,'

a ferocious heat came over the man...

and he felt himself becoming more,

losing his skin, his heart, his lungs...

and being lifted into the sky,

he saw a fabulous light burning all around...

and after a while he realized that it was him,

he had become the sun you see...

and for the only time in history,

his heat touched the moon...

she had been an unblemished pearl surface before,

yet his touch burnt her deep...

the fire that surrounded him ate through her chains,

and at last the moon took a breath...

yet despite the love he held,

there was too much pain for them to be near...

he could not bare to hurt the moon,

and so a new bargain was struck...

the skies and world whispered to him,

the words that would set an eternity....

'oh burning child we commit to you,

this our promise of the truth...

for the life of this earth you shall guard as the day,

while the moon shall watch the night...

not once can you touch,

or be together again...

except for the briefest of moments that we ordain,

yet she shall live and you both shall forever...

no fear no fear,

for you have no heart to feel...

just memories and glimpses,

of what could have been...'

An eternal love story,

an eternal regret...

and the hope that he might glimpse her,

 one more time.



  Hey there pretty people,

   I've been off in the most gorgeous whitsundays (and still am), so I haven't been given a chance to write more Blogs until today. My holidays are stretching out and I am regretting my present poverty...but I'm slowly forgetting the things that plagued me...though they'll be there waiting when I get back. Here the demons have different faces and names, but I know them and they know me, because really it's my head I'm running from: there's no escape from that.

   Sorry for the downer last note, it is nice to be back in party central and drinking myself silly each day and night. I found the tiniest of cocktail bars that sell a poison that they've deemed to give the name: the Dark Side of the Island. Reminds me of the dark islands I've been to, and coincidences? A book has also beckoned to me at the little book exchange store here...Duma Key by Stephen king, another story about a dark and beautiful island.

   I shall drift away now,

    Much Love,

Miss CLScarlett xx

  P.S. Here is a small slice of blue watermelon and a frog for you dear reader...to make you feel tropical.

A Reminiscent Thought of a Deep Sea Octopusss....and the dreams he Held....

 

Can you hear it?

 

There is a certain darkness out tonight....

it has pulled on a special hue of shade,

it is calling out to us now....

to a peculiar kind of type,

It calls to the people of the night....

to your door and land,

open your mind wide....

to the ones without fright,

I see them as I spirit along....

through a midnight of a thousand colours,

come ride with me....

see the eyes glinting out from electric flames,

and smoke poured into the freezing blank air....

lines quivering over bridges and rails,

to pierce the water far below....

we are swept into the embrace of the cold,

yet we don't mind for ice fills our blood....

we can walk through a fixture,

of what people see....

yet they don't see what is before them,

and the grimy diamonds that dwell in plain sight....

we are the ones you have lost you see,

the villains of the tale....

the ones to whom time has swept us into ourselves,

 

Time is a seahorse....

and a seahorse itself is the symbol of strength,

a creature this small endures the storm....

clings to what it can hold and survives survives survives,

unto death....

we are the people of the seahorse,

and the ones of the lost names....

we fill the gaps where you blink,

and the corners shrouded in grey....

we war against ourselves,

and burn our symbol into the earth....

we impress upon the wind and the leaves,

a miniscule section of our soul....

yet when we die we continue on,

we travel far and wide....

we haunt the people we loved amidst the rain,

and the parts of ourselves that we have banished inside....

we are the wolf that runs,

flashing our teeth and tearing to pieces....

 what we once admired,

we kill because of our nature....

 

because of who we are,

I would rather loose my fingers to the winters blue gnawing....

than endure the suffocating blanket of warmth that is to belong,

to another....

we tear off these shackles,

so that we may see the scars we made....

and in the end,

once our darkness we face....

we can pass into the pale,

into the dawn light....

where a city rests in the waves wake,

there is a sound we all hear then....

as we step out of the sea,

a familiar tune....

that embraces what we are,

and draws us to right here....

where the dust will be swept away,

and then not once touched again....

where we will grant all the parts of us,

the ability to live again....

and the stars will speak their words to us,

 from deep within the black....

a whisper of the name of our home,

and how to get back.

 

  The seahorse is the key....that's the only clue I'll give :], to do with my books. But.....Miss Scarlett is on holidays' babyyyyyy :] I'm even travelling back to Airlie beach....to experience that sort of life again. Why go back....why go forward, when both hold memories? Find me a place, where there are no burdens like that.

   I'll try and write more Blogs, and hopefully by the end of this time I will be close to finishing the critique, what has been sent to me...

  Hope you are all faring well and that life hasn't treated you too badly as of late,

    Much Love....

Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

 



 



 

 

 



A SnoooooooZe through Space........

Reaching out through the wires....

we reach,

Staring out into the stinging salt and blue....

we stare,

I saw the world raging the other night....

sometime past two a.m.,

Stood in the swaying wind....

and saw the trees dripping tears,

while the rain gently swept,

away.

The sea is seeping into our soul....

into the land and earth,

one day perhaps it will cover us here....

and enable us to forget,

We are shattering....

within our walls and on the thrones we build,

our faces hide the masks that we wear inside....

a million different faces staring back,

I pull aside curtains...

look through grimy windows,

and see them....

in the reflections of our self,

when we close our eyes....

a million different masks creep and look back,

 

 

I had a dream....

that my heart had become a stone,

that my arms were covered with scratches....

from trying to find a pulse,

they have faded you see....

and we have been worn away,

I can no longer see for the fog that covers my eyes....

or for the voices that whisper in my ears,

winding down....

tunes wind back up,

to touch what is left....

of us,

I close a door....

but there's always another to close,

plagued plagued plagued....

we are by the trailing twines,

that shackle our limbs....

and tear us ever towards the ground,

here's the deal cries he[fate] who built the twines....

keep running and scampering,

because if you fall you'll be dragged through the rough....

and if you stand you are dragged closer to death,

Tides turn....

and we are swept away again,

Travel down river with us....

beyond the streams and the gullies,

and the small nooks and coves that lace the world....

travelling through a bend in time,

to where the elephants are white....

and the sea breaks gently,

on pale stone....

 

It is always here we fly to,

always here....

where the sounds are quieter,

and the soul stiller.....

still.

 

 

    Well I have decided that I am going away for three days soon. I shall hop on a plane and disappear for a while. Won't say where but its' what I need. Feeling outside of myself lately...un-tethered.

 

 

     Things come about....always.

 

Much Love and risk....

   Miss CLScarlett xx

 



 

 

 

 

 



The Burnt Tide and a Few Fragments of Silver....

 

 

To you dear washed up seafarer...

I give to thee,

a lie and a truth...

to be discerned by thee.

 

A moth clung tight to my jacket as we rode through the dark night,

silver glances through grey puddles to some other...

flip-side land,

Crumbling boardwalks...

make a stage and way for the ever-devouring and approaching sea,

she cannot find enough...

cannot desire enough to claim,

she the ocean...

a memoire of a memory,

and we fall into it too...

The lightest of silver pieces engraved with a crow,

found me the other day...

in my pocket,

I don't know how or why...

but it keeps me up at night,

that question...

Mumbles from beneath the floor,

statues caught in time...

a whisper down a winding corridor,

a telescope to see the true skyy...

a space opening within the blizzard,

a pocket beneath the warm earth...

travelling down and down,

to the deep...

we sleep,

Trailing embers through ice-cold soil...

muddled footprints,

left behind...

for we who remain,

forgotten...

 

I heard the wind talking the other evening,

as the ice gathered dust at the tips of my toes and eyelids...

the darkness and hues swam,

tugging me into the Between...

between the shadows and the grey,

so close to the old walls of this place...

that you can hear something in there breathing,

gasping like an ancient trapped spirit...

as I dream,

I feel things winding and merging with my skin...

that each time I rise from the darkness of doze,

a small part of the gloom inks its' way into me...

It's so sweet,

the bittersweet...

of it being so terrifying in its' vastness and its',

ability to wait there for you...

gaping and yawning,

so lest we forget...

that if we stop or go back or glance back,

it is there waiting for us...

and bit by bit,

it grows stronger as we tire of running...

until like rust it turns our gears and sparks of light,

 into broken mechanics...

and we fall and cannot move our bones to get back up,

to where we were...

once in the sunlight,

 

 

Look across a thousand miles of sand...

stretching into faded light,

and salt-worn bamboo...

by waters that stir out the rituals they have learnt  from their soul,

mayhaps we too could create patterns and new worlds...

if only we were to know the pattern of our soul,

and in the end...

I recalled why,

we were lost...

why the lights flick off when we walk below them,

one can tell so many stories...

that eventually no one believes,

which is when the monsters show their faces...

when the strange steps into the cold light,

we are real...

gasping,

desperate...

but only seen by those who cry wolf,

The dark wolf is galloping through the corridors...

that have grown within me,

its' claws left marks...

behind,

as we and he and she race and race and race...

to what we believe we're looking for,

we believe we've lost something?

Don't we...

some fragment that it's worth our heart and lifespan to seek out,

Some things are not a choice...

we are bound up within so many razor steel strings,

by fate...

going the wrong way only cuts us to the bone,

and in the end...

when you know that you cannot have what a normal person should,

 

Think of a mirror...

simple and glimmering on a wall in front of you,

you walk forward...

towards it,

closer still...

you stare into its' betraying depths,

you stare and stare...

and something sparks out at you,

a peculiar tune and the smallest of lights...

press your hand against its' surface,

at the cold foreign feel of its' touch...

let it all consume you,

and see yourself as you actually are...

pull aside the veil,

and see...

hear,

us...

as we swirl away.

 

 

   Hey there traveller...

I've been missing this, and strong feelings....feels like I've taken an emotion-devouring medicine. Harharhar....Life is travelling along like a one-way train and I'm considering taking control of the controls, hi-jacking this train. If I can creep enough...then perhaps they or he will turn a blind eyeee.

    Hohumhohum....to the bottle of rum and dandy suns we go we go we go.

Thank-you for still enduring my oddness-of-mind,

   Much Love...
Miss CLScarlett xx

   P.S. I am thinking that at some stage in the near-distant future, I am going to perform the first and only magic trick I shall ever pull. It shall be epic and bizarre and final. [A small mystery to keep you frustrated, and a tiny heads-up]. No more clues though hehe xx



 

 

  My List of Curiosities (or a couple of them):

 

     - A spiral medallion that appeared in my letterbox.

     - An African Tin sculpted head of a woman without eyes.

     - A silver coin with a crow on it that I found mysteriously in my pocket one day.

     - An envelope of tiny paper origami stars from a night-to-remember long ago.