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.

 



 

 

 

 

 



The Flip-Side of the Ocean and the Nine-Billion mile pathway to...........................THERE.

 

 

 

'Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its' goal;

Dust though art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul.'

 

[Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - what a name]

 

Ware, ware!

Doctor Watson I fear we are far from the maps...

far from the maps indeed,

we Tip over the edge...

and to where we fall we do not know.

 

There are leviathans in our midst...

they take the shape of what we least expect,

the subtle shifting in the side-by shadows...

the white noise in your head,

they are the incredible word you never expected from a friend...

and the whisper in your ears,

telling you to press harder...

press harder on the pedal,

let yourself fly crazily along...

indeed wouldn't it be incredible to see the sky upside-down?

 

Step through into dusk...

shooting stars and a seat for me,

and a seat for you...

 

We were swept up by the waves,

taken captive by the sea...

we flew to Mercury,

and had a cup of tea...

we burrowed our way into the tunnel's of the earth,

and nestled between its skin and heart...

we saw the blind creatures crawl up from beneath,

and we heard their shrieks...

felt their cold iron breath,

we dug so deep until the light it blinded...

and things swam out from the hidden brilliance,

chortling in an array of sounds...

the beginnings of sorrow and the eve of fury.

 

The wind it whispered to me last night...

there are things you need to know,

secrets we kept well to give...

we give to you as this,

Listen...

hear behind our wail,

the smallest of tiny drums...

beating out eternally through the midnight hours,

we tug and jostle...

and prance upon the highest point,

to scream what could be what was what is...

and it is this,

They are coming...

for your deeds and words and heart,

a plague of soul-eaters...

a darkness that grows with the ticking of time,

with the years that crumble away...

from you,

 

 

we don't speak its' name aloud...

yet we hear it in our bones,

resounding out an echo of dust...

what did happen to those worlds?

 

The planets they spin...

they whirl,

they burn...

yet it is the fractures of forgotten societies,

 that lace those other worlds...

tombs of memory,

spinning and spinning for eternity...

mayhaps the stars will throw themselves from the skyy tonight,

perhaps they will reveal the most beautiful of voices...

mayhaps the wind is the sweetest of caresses,

who could ever love a faceless creature such as the breeze though...

and yet what other being dances?

To know of the wind is to know of love...

of frightful, ferocious heart,

 

My dear I have become certain...

that it is not the sort of love I desire,

to be clung to and wound up amongst invisible blankets...

no,

I would rather not be someones whole world,

give to me the adoration of the tornado...

the whip and club of the wind and rain,

the scream of the lightning in my ears beneath tin...

and the violence of the storm,

the cold distance of the moon...

that forever gazes down,

and the sea which breaks apart what we are and promises nothing...

these I have bound myself to in ways not spoken,

and I realised that that was what I wanted...

forget the flimsy love of those we know,

and take instead the eternal...

 

I sat in the dark,

sometime past midnight last night...

and it came to me two choices,

a pale slender hand reaching out against the regular path of life...

to me,

to follow your soul...

to follow your heart,

the only choice you know...

is that you can't live one life alongside the other,

the dark and gloom and figures you birthed...

that live between your skull,

will slowly tear you apart if you choose an appropriate life...

and the loneliness burns away like acid if the heart we follow,

better to run...

better to scatter,

better to let your feet cut to ribbons...

and the earth to take,

we are creatures of our own demise...

bound between fates encircling hands.

 

Yet oh the colour...

we have never before seen such a colour,

of beyond beyond the beyond of us.

 

   Heyhey hello dear creature who has decided to read this...

      My nights are becoming so strange, but I fill them with writing and whatever other poisons I can find....to pass the long hours till morning, until it begins to feel like the dreams and sleep I catch are much the same as the time that I'm awake. Things blur...things change, and our minds deceive us. But oh how sweet the lies we feed ourselves...until we forget that they were half-truths and illusions altogether. Then the madness feeds and begins...and once you let it in, there's no back door, no way to kick out the darkness that has taken root.
   
    Why would it leave when it knows how addicted we are to its' gloom?

For better days and nights to all of you,

   Much Love...
Miss CLScarlett xx

 



The Bell that Whispered in the Night.......hey you, you forgot to fall out of Bed.

 

'When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood's run stale

I want to hide the truth
I want to shelter you
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide

Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide

When the curtain's call
Is the last of all
When the lights fade out
All the sinners crawl
So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At the mess you made

They say it's what you make
I say it's up to fate
It's woven in my soul
I need to let you go
Your eyes, they shine so bright
I want to save their light
I can't escape this now
Unless you show me how...'

 

[Parts of the song Demons, by Imagine Dragons]

 

A whisper by the street-side,

shadow eyes amongst the shadows...

the shudder of wings,

against a cobblestoned walkway...

the smallest of threads,

running through the mist...

a waving hand,

reaching across an abyss...

a silence that stretches with the tide,

a sudden swirling in a silent pool...

the smallest of fears in a tiny breathing fern,

we watch ourselves turn to dust...

knowing that we will live again and die again,

trying to make it right...

trying to make things different,

when we are destined to make the same mistakes...

wrought from blood,

wrought from our self...

that we deny,

a shade softer than the grey...

the briefest of outlines on a blank wall,

in the shape of a door...

memories chipping away,

beneath a billion miles of fractured wood...

discarded highrises,

and dead rooks...

we flee as our feet bleed,

from our shadows...

which we forgot belonged to us,

and from the candyman...

the candyman can,

the candyman cancan

the candyman can eat...

us,

while we run...

eating on the run,

 

Waves beat away patterns into the bones of the earth...

drum beatss creak out between the fractures they make,

and the old charriots and their horses awaken...

to prance and dance their way through the midnight of all towns,

as we try not to watch...

Grit and pebbles and chilled water grasping at bare ankles,

we watch our old skin be torn and swept away from us...

silted into dust and thin wool,

so that we can create something new out of what remains...

let it not be banished,

merely strengthened...

and straightened into something that can be accepted enough,

to be ignored...

and left alone,

deeds done...

words said,

burn baby burn...

scream and cry and festoon,

oh dear oh my our Scar's a witch...

oh har oh harharhar,

 

 

The tiniest of bubbles rising into the sky...

If the soul had wings,

well then perhaps we all would fly...

a slow movement amongst the leaves on a path,

a dry dusty whisper...

calling you forward,

you step into the dark beyond...

the light sparkling behind you,

and a sudden dropping in the blood of everything...

a breathing and familiar embrace,

of cold and black ice...

and rivers running dry,

we drink our own misery...

for it is to our taste,

we compare our misfortunes to see the deserving of the two...

while Sir fate sits there laughing,

as we tear ourselves to bits...

In the firmest of holds the ice grips and reaches,

crawling its way throughout and beyond...

blasting open the passageways of the mind,

it whips sense into the irrational...

and makes irrational sensibility and pride,

cold arms...

dark arms,

embrace me tonight...

fear not silent creature of bone and water,

sink into the cool deep...

and there'll be no more,

no more struggling or complaining or darting around...

just silence,

and the close-knit net we weave about and through you...

feel our ten-tonne weight pressing down,

surrounding...

don't be afraid of the cold,

once you stop fighting...

it becomes so very warm,

so very warm...

and sometimes the stars sway,

and  sometimes the stars grow more ferocious...

and sometimes the stars are more cold,

and it seems that our planet really is billions of lightyears away from everything...

we dream....

...

..

.

.

 

 

  Hi there...

    It's been a while, hasn't it? Do I sound morbid...? Well yes Scar, yes you do. No matter.

 

I finally recieved my critique back from the company I sent it to. It's marvelous, but I have a lot of work and a way to go to finish it, but as they say...RAWWWRrrrrrr I so don't care, I'm doing it anyway, harhar harharr... XD

   I may be a bit more absent though because of this but my dear Sirs and Madmadams...just think, in two years time, if my plan goes right...I may just start popping up in bookstores. Who indeed...whoo indeeeed, can tell?? :]

 

   Miss Scarlett has to step out for a while, as I'm losing my mind at the moment, so with all my love,

   I wish you a fabulously adventurous and thrilling winter.

 

And, a glass raised please to many more future Blogs and letters to you wonderful readers, I LOOOOOOVEeee you all.

 

    xx

 

 

 

Demons...Imagine Dragons........ROCKSthe socks off!

 

 

Or...

 

if this is way too depressing for you in a video,

listen to THIS one by Imagine Dragons...

 

RADIOACTIVE...dumdumdum

 





 

 



 

 

 



 

The Weaving of the Cats Feet and the tinieSt of Early-Winter Wishes...

 

I met a cat one starry night...

in a small village by the sea,

we were drunk and swaying at the early-night inn...

and then we travelled and scattered across roads to the bars of Ireland,

there we drank from teapots and soup dishes...

and snuck smokes in the alley back that wayy,

like haunted feline we entranced and danced...

singing our blues away,

we headed South...

across country and bone,

seeking a new path to lead us from home...

for we were wild of spirit and shunned from the righteous,

and so we ran and laughed and fled to alone...

Heaven help us give us wings,

we spirit along to commit the deed...

We fled down alleyways,

we skittered across twine...

we were touched by moonlight and devoured by shadow and mire,

Scarlett...

would you race a storm?

Friend...

would you chase and embrace a storm?

 

 

we crept beneath hedges...

and down secret ways,

through torrential rain and soot...

abandoning our hearts in the puddles and drains,

eventually we came to the end of our strength...

at a place where ivory grew,

it clawed and strangled its' way up pale white walls...

and crippled the chimneys of homes and saloon,

there we sat in the sudden grey quiet...

by the side of a silent pool,

we gazed and stared into its' saphire depths...

and saw the setting moon reflected grinning back at us,

we cast our souls into the darkness of its' deep...

until we found that we were floating,

two creatures of forgotten lives...

we dove and sunk with the eddies,

we were swept up by the tide...

and squeezed of breath by hands of ice,

we were jostled and thrown and tossed to and fro...

until that water,

it vomited us up onto land...

we had been battered and re-made,

by the cold and the wet...

our minds hammered down,

and our souls deeply nest...

between the paths of us,

 

and out onto red dust...

we saw the hills,

heard them swayy...

and we knew that we had to run and fly awayy,

so upward we took...

on the wind and burning sand,

whipped up high and darting down the lows...

we raced the sandman,

the sky blue ever above us...

as we wove with our new wings,

until eventually we paused...

on the very top of a dune,

and gazed out far...

towards the new morning sun and there,

a sudden glow...

a brushing of gold,

moving and billowing high above the desert horizon...

it moves and shifts,

flaring larger...

dipping down from between the few clouds,

a Brilliance we saw...

of otherwordly light,

that screamed with laughter and wept with delight...

It sunk and reached down towards us,

vibrating and whispering...

a cloud of galaxies and suns,

grasped us and whistled us up and away...

we travelled again for aeons,

or what could have been mere seconds...

in the embrace of that Brilliance and splendor,

that darted around us...

until eventually it set us down,

as gently as a kiss...

onto the pale earth of Dwarka,

where we knew we would be safe...

we bounded to the city,

and heard tales amongst the eaves...

chatter in the markets and bays,

oh city of palaces...

the lost wanderers have come home to stayy.

 

 

 

 

   Hey there wanderers....

 

       Things are still spinning and colliding, and sometimes I know that if you pause, and if you lose focus, eventually the madness that you took to escape the worse madness has become the new prison and chain around your neck. Things creep up on you...and they won't always wait forever.

    But....there is always that hope, still curling somewhere beneath the murk.

Ah! I also wanted to relay a message from the Sinister Meeting Room....they, wish to thank the people that have been adding me on google lately, and all the people who still read this mumbo-jumbo rhymsical nonsense. We tip our hat to you good Sir and Madmadam.

 

     Much Love and Light [or something close to it]...

  Miss CLScarlett xx

 

     P.S. I've been glimpsing Sodom again....it seems he's decided that he missed me and has as such started to haunt me. Jolly good Mr. White n S....at least the company I keep now is humorous.