Category Archives: Otherworldly

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #225 Strike&Hunger

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Let the clocks strike twelve

then the hunger will begin

that the hordes may feed

 

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Filed under As you read it, Haiku, Inspired by fable, Otherworldly, Self compositions

Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Bone #writephoto

skull

Over the western hills the sparse, silver clouds are tinged with  red. The sun, not yet set gives up it’s daily battle with the revolving Earth.

A slight breeze starts vibrations in the tall grass heads previously still  in  the heat of the day as the first chill wind from the shore  heralds the onset of evening.

The rain-washed,  sun-bleached skull lies on the path of low foot-worn grass between the heather tussocks.

Tonight there will be no moon to cast it’s glow over the silent tors. The evening air remains curiously warm, almost sultry.

Imperceptibly, as if guided by some gentle, unseen hand the skullbone is turne to face the darkening  Eastern sky. d

In the distance,  a low unearthly sound as of the moaning of the wind in the mast of a storm-tossed sailing vessel can just be heard. The skull shudders and begins to roll to the side of the path.  Like the growth of moss but vastly accelerated, a black downy growth begins to form a shadow on the stark, white surface. The black down grows longer until it resembles the short, thick fur of a dog. An impression helped by the impression of long limbs and thickset body of a hound which appear  to be forming around the single skull.

At last there stands a large hound. Saliva drips from the muzzle as the jaws open showing a row of strong teeth where once were just sockets. Red, unblinking eyes like cinders stare out as snorting nostrils flare and a snarl escapes the shaking head.

Darkness reigns but the black fur is embued with a dull, green lustre. If anyone was near they would start to sense a foetid smell,  increasing in strength with each shake of the thick flanks.

While out over the darkening hills the previous low moaning is now distinguishable as the baying of  a pack of hounds.

The newly reborn beast raises it’s head turning to the right and left. Upraised newly grown ears point straight up, cocked, listening.

With a snarl and a huge leap the beast  runs off in the direction of the approaching pack.

Across the moor a dark-cloaked rider sits atop a heavy black steed. His hood rolls back  allowing a glimpse of a white, gaunt cadaver-like grin. He frowns. he struggles to control his rearing horse, while in his free hand he holds a horse-whip which with every flick emits a stream  of red and gold sparks. Around the horse’s  feet a pack  of identical black hounds snarl, circle and fight, cowering  at every crack.

Soon the pack will be complete again and the Heath hounds will start their nightly hunt seeking out the souls of the wicked.

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Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, Inspired by fable, Old knowledge, Otherworldly, Self compositions

Museum exhibit four hundred and thirty nine

Having recently heard of the recent death of Rick Turner, the archaeologist who played a major role in the identification of Lindow man, I thought I would post a relevant poem.

For me no stone at head or feet,
Buried ‘neath the sodden peat,
Full three times I died at the hands
of former dwellers in this land,
messenger to the gods my fate,
my kinsmen’s problems to relate
our hunting failures, weather woes
humiliation by our foes,
my message to our Gods was clear
but they pretended not to hear,
With wrists behind me tightly bound,
A cord around my neck was wound,
a rock against my temple dashed
then with a knife, throat crudely slashed
my patriotic chore now done
in Eden’s glade my spirit runs,
though from the earth my body raised
my final bed a tomb full-glazed,
and as I lie in endless slumber
my name forgotten, now just a number.

 

 

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Filed under Factual, From the heart, History, Inspired emotion, Old knowledge, Otherworldly, Self compositions

#Weekly Tanka Prompt #Poetry Challenge – Week 114 – Emotions & Healing

Aroused emotions

yield to the healing powers

of quartz and crystal

with just one touch of the stone

regain peace and harmony

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Filed under Old knowledge, Otherworldly, Self compositions, Tanka

Sue Vincent’s weekly #Writephoto beach frolics

sea-mist1

Listen to the torpid, turquoise waters,
langorously lapping at the sun scorched sands.
Imagine the tall, curving, coco-palm trees
casting welcome shadow over gay steel-bands
Parasols swirling, laughing ladies, clutch their
high, iced glasses in painted, long-nailed hands.
Gaze upon the lithe, lissome half naked bodies
in their bold, bright costumes, showing golden tans.
When the bright golden sun’s rays turn to crimson
driftwood is gathered and barbecues are manned.
As the fading light becomes tropical evening
everyone’s dreams and pleasures on demand.
Tuned dustbin lids polished, glowing in the fires
while stamping  and dancing capture the rhythm of the land

 

 

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Filed under Otherworldly, Self compositions, Temperatures rising, Whimsical

Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto #tanka Sky swimming

 

dawn

Swollen scarlet shoals

swim in the pale blue waters

framed for an instant

the golden halo stretches

out it’s hands to cradle them

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Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Remains #writephoto

O hear me, ye faithless for I have a warning to retell.

My name is M’neptah and I was formerly the tutor of the son of my sovereign master Thutmose, Lord of all the dominion of Egypt.

On the night of my death I boarded the barge that traverses the Land of Nut and was brought before the one they call Anubis, before whom I knelt in subjugation.

He placed before my bowed head a finely wrought gold balance and with one swift move placed his hand upon my breast. From within he took my heart and laid  it gently upon one of the scales. From his head-dress he plucked a feather and placed this on the opposite scale.

To my horror the weight of  my heart was greater than that of the feather. I begged forgiveness for my unknown sins, committed whilst upon this Earth. It was to no avail . My heart was cruelly thrown into the jaws of the crocodile Ammit to be devoured and thus prevent me continuing my journey to the afterlife.

That is why you see me as I am now, devoid of flesh and condemned to lie unburied for eternity.

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Filed under Factual, Flash fiction, History, Old knowledge, Otherworldly, Self compositions

Sue Vincent’s weekly #Writephoto Waiting

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Kellerman looked at the huge, carved head in awe. A whole gamut of questions flowed through his mind, the first and most important being who had carved the giant edifice and what did it represent? It could have been a dog, perhaps a stylised vision of it’s creators or even more intriguingly a true to life portrait. The only way to get any answers was to don his safety suit, and take a ride in the exploration module to have a much closer look. Despite some trepidation he knew that this is what they had sent him here to do, although finding evidence of other life forms had not been on the agenda.What alarmed him was the absence of any clearance from the control base. The last vicious lightning storm had closed down any possibility of microwave communication in the foreseeable future. Yet this was an opportunity that could not be missed, the thing had appeared undetected overnight and could easily disappear in the same short timespan. There was no point in waiting he thought, let’s get on with it. He walked through to the robing room and started to don his life support and survival suit, ready to embark on what could turn out to be the most momentous day in his and the whole of martiankind’s history.

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Filed under Alternative history, Flash fiction, Otherworldly, Self compositions