Time passed

talk to me by Julia Skobeleva

Clouds pregnant with rain,
An omen for the new day.
Shadows of memory
On the cusp of lost love.

Love will end today
As it began, a shower
In spring then, now fall.

We fall, like those million droplets,
From great height to a bottomless chasm
Two as one become two again.

Again, the sun will shine
like summer, warm on my skin
in a new dawn forever
when the clouds part.

We grew apart. (Is that growth?)

Until that day, I’ll remember
The wind coursing through my soaked hair,
The hair he touched, he kissed,

When we loved.

The Annethology is complete …

woodnymph

… I think. I just finished editing the 18 short stories that will make up The Veil of Sheera and other Tales. If you are one of my regular readers, I’m looking for one person to beta it. I’ve had comments on the individual stories, but not on the collection as a whole. Let me know if you are interested in a comment below.

I’m also looking for cover art. (I can’t use the pic above, sadly.) If you are interest in contributing a photo or drawing, preferably of Sheera in a chair under her veil (You can read the story on this site.), send me some ideas.

You never forget how to ride

Banana and Cherry by niguin (hide)

For just one dollar, you may ride our fastest yellow bullet train.  Yes, we invite you to be a passenger on our pink submarine.  Ooh, damn, my knickers are in a twist, all twisted up, left under the bed, lost and dusty, as I watch the funeral donkey pass, widow in black, soul in white.  Or is that a blackened soul and a passing white ghost – a white witch under Dorothy’s bedroom.  Uncle Elmer left me with a dollar in my pocket, just in case.  Take her back to the North for a dollar, save her from Dot’s wrath, give her Dot’s rash, run time backwards – feet curled up in stripey stockings.  Mine under the bed with my knickers, discarded after my last bike ride; he ruined them again. He ruined it, me, forever and ever, one nation … am I allowed to say that?  What does Congress say, the right wing red necks banning my ruby slippers, grounding my balloon flights with that sham of a wizard.  I’d rather fly with the monkeys, fly to the moon, to the stars, as the gold sun declines on the autumn horizon.  Soul and body fresh in the failing light and clear sky, dancing to the funeral march.  Laughing at the silly witch who got mixed up with her stripey twin, as our black cousin cackles in her black leather knickers, whip, and flaming broom.  I led the cortege through the creaky gate, naked as the day I was born – no, created – no human could bear me, especially when I haven’t taken my medication, today’s white pills sold for a dollar, I’ve doubled my money, so I can buy a blue, pink and white bomb pop, and drop it on Dorothy’s crushed house, riding my bike backwards, we go both ways, he said I’m ambidextrous, foreplay, afterplay, time in two directions, making the corn taller as it wilts.  Green stalks from green shoots, bang!, killed the white witch before Dot’s house landed on her, tied her up in the coffin – witches don’t die – the black witch cackles – watch witchy dig herself out of this one, buried in the cornfield on the horizon.  Make her walk home in her dirty white dress hiding her tail between her legs, her mother will scold her as stripey witch jumps up and down with glee and blacky strokes her monkey.  I’m curled up in bed with my bike, having forgotten about my knickers and socks, playing submarine – up periscope!

Mine removed

Image

I knew he would come,
our place since the beginning of time,
our time.

This is our watery garden,
our Eden without that damned tree,
pure and untouched.

He knows not why he is drawn,
pure as the driven snow,
in his dream.

When he last visited,
it was my dream,
his beautiful flesh,
my paradigm.

My spirit sat on this log,
here since ancient times,
but he couldn’t see me then,
not like now.

He can’t help noticing a woman,
naked,
the most beautiful he has ever seen,
as we were created for each other.

Forever I wait for him in the mountain tarn,
fed by a waterfall, borne of a force,
an underground river
bursting from a cliff face.

This lake is our love,
still and pure,
with its source from a higher power.

I will always love him because
I remember.
Everything.

He forgets until he sees me,
wonders at his newfound love,
One that he understands not.

Natural, yet he is Earthbound.
I will teach him again,
but when he awakens,
he will marvel at his dream.

He’s had one like it before,
I know because I know his thoughts.
They are mine, removed.