Time… #Poetry

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

Time

I remember when I had wings
Before Earth became my home
When days were young
I had not yet leaned that time is my enemy
A parasite, my own personal stalker
Stealing moments of my life
Memories slipping away
Turning my steps slower
Empty space in mind
Filled with strange thoughts
That do not belong to me.
I feel I have twinned with another mind
Maybe one day, they might tell me who they are
I have learned many things in my latter years
That I never thought to put to mind
Mind, like an empty room
Has space for so much more
Why did I not know this when I was young
When time was still on my side?
I feel like a greedy child
There is never enough of the things you like
The heart and mind, wanting more
Wandering from place to place
Still looking for that special something
That eureka moment
that tells you nothing really matters
All thoughts turn to dust
Only the moment holds the charm of life…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#Friday Flashback ~ Out of the Shadows and Into my Book…

people-925235_1920

This is how Silent PayBack began…

For more than a week now, I have had this new character in my head. He has been following me around, watching my every move. I have tried to talk to him, in my head, you understand, but he has this enigmatic smile, and that’s all I get from him.

I think he wants me to figure out what to do with him, guess what he wants to do but so far, my brain is siding with him and refusing to cooperate.

This morning, I decided I would try to interview him, something I have done before with several of my characters, but you guessed it, he wouldn’t even sit down!

All I know so far is that I do want to write about him, and if I must go through hoops to do it, so be it!

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod just then, so it would seem the game is on…

At first glance, he seems an unlikely hero, at least for one of my books. Not very tall, and slender with dark eyes and long hair tied back in a ponytail. Simply dressed in a dark shirt and jeans. But there is an aura about him, he could be a magician, magically producing doves from balls of tissue or flowers from thin air.

He has moved a little closer. I seem to have his full attention…

He is probably something in law enforcement, a police officer or detective, or why would he have turned up on my doorstep? I get killers too, but somehow I know he isn’t one of them. I hadn’t intended to write another crime thriller, I fancied a change, something haunting or spooky perhaps.

There is another character in my head, and although this one looks harmless, all blonde and attractive, the boy next door type. But I know instinctively that he means trouble. Are these two men destined to cross swords? I am beginning to think they are…

I have a lot of thinking imagining to do and to save confusion; I will call the dark haired one David and the blonde William. I already know they are two very different people, and discovering what they are about will be very interesting…

And the rest, as they say, is history…

©Jaye Marie 2020

Jaye’s Week… still waiting…

The days are dragging by with no word from the hospital. They say that no news is supposed to be good news, but that’s not the over riding feeling in our house. Hopefully, it means there is nothing serious to report.

And just when I was sure life couldn’t get much worse, my arthritis decided to prove me wrong. It is always there, but usually nothing a few pain killers and analgesic cream can’t control. Over the weekend, it decided to test the waters, so to speak. I didn’t mention it, as I didn’t want to complain or worry everyone, but my sister’s eagle eyes miss nothing.

We have been lucky over the years, never managing to be out of commission at the same time, so if I wasn’t feeling bad enough already, every time the pain screwed my face up, I wished it were mandatory to wear a mask indoors!

We have always wondered which one of us will shuffle off first, and these days, I wouldn’t take any bets on it!

Interview with a Legend…

I am sitting in front of Jaye’s computer, looking at all the things she works on, wondering if there is anything I can do. Maybe I could try an interview.

I went back to my pen and paper.

Jaye was gardening, so I stayed in her seat, which made me wonder if this had anything to do with the strange feeling creeping over me. Someone stood behind me. I could feel the energy, like pinpricks on my skin. I could smell the wild woods, all the strange scents he brought with him.

I felt afraid to turn.

I knew Merlin stood behind me and didn’t want him to vanish. I wanted to see if he had a long white beard. That’s when he spoke.

‘No beard, no pointy hat, I do have a staff.’

I pulled out the chair beside me, the one I sit in when giving Jaye my work. He sat, and I was looking at a legend. My breath stuck like a hot potato in my throat. I am looking at his blue-green eyes that should be in the crown jewels.

‘Ask away,’ he said, with a voice that will replay in my mind forever. Forget Chopin, Brahms, Beethoven, Liszt, this voice is music.

‘Why Camelot?’ I asked. ‘Why make a King?’

As he answered, I saw the light in his eyes change, like strobe lightning.

‘To rid the country of Roman law, to unify the people.’

I held the moment, asking about the Roman blood running through the veins of the British people. ‘You cannot be rid of all the things they leave behind.’

His body went rigid, and I think I have offended him.

‘What they leave behind will soon be forgotten.’

I didn’t want to comment again for fear he might smite me with his staff. I noticed the slight grin on his face, forgetting he could read my thoughts.

‘If you could do it again, would you do the same?’ Again, that voice, the dancing light in his eyes, made me wish that I had a thousand questions to ask.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘The same, yet different. I would take my time, make sure there would be no betrayal of Arthur by a French Knight. There would be no need of the grail.’

I tried not to think about his answer. I could tell he knew by the shifting of his weight in the chair.

‘You think I am wrong?’

Looking sideways at him, I said, ‘Maybe. It could be a more modern idea that would be relevant in the now. I know some of your ideas were good. Chivalry, Valour, truth, they should be shown differently. We have too much machinery, kids with their eyes on the future. How to be famous, how to be rich. You need a new game, Merlin. One that can combat the invisible while you’re at it. We have too many germs. Too many people are trying to get rich from disasters. Little has changed since Arthur’s days. The crafty always know how to make money from misery. Often as not, causing it in the first place.’

Before leaving, Merlin said he was glad he popped in. ‘I have much to think about before I visit again…

( Next time I will be ready for him. I will have my questions written down!)

#ThrowbackThursday : CrossFire by Jaye Marie #CrimeThriller #Fiction

fffrt.jpg

DI David Snow has another killer to catch, a killer as mysterious as the crimes he commits. 

Betrayal and lies come to the surface as Snow struggles to find the truth, but is he looking in all the wrong places?

Can he outwit the killer, or will the truth cost him his life?

 

Excerpt from CrossFire

‘Do you know why we have brought you here today, Ann?’

Ruth thought she would ease her way in, rather than accuse her straight off, for triggering any hostility wouldn’t get them anywhere.

The woman stared at Ruth, her pale, colourless eyes searching for clues. ‘Nah… but I ‘spect you’ll get to it pretty quick…’

Ruth indicated a brown paper bag on the table beside her. ‘We found a pair of work boots at your house, Ann. According to your husband, they’re not his. Are they yours?’

Ann Taylor glared at Ruth. She seemed to be enjoying the interview, her arrogance showing through the previous nervousness. ‘Dunno, can’t see them can I?’

Ruth undid the bag and placed the dirty boots on the table. Most of the mud had dried and fallen off, but still didn’t seem like the kind of boot a woman would wear. ‘Are these your boots, Ann?’

Without looking at the boots, she shook her head. ‘Nah, I don’t think so.’

Ruth looked at Snow, but not for confirmation. She wondered why he was choosing to stay silent. What was the point of sitting in if he wasn’t going to contribute? Not that she cared, one way or the other. She had only looked at him to signify inclusion.

She looked back at the woman. ‘Are you quite sure, Ann?’

The woman shrugged her shoulders and refused to speak.

‘For the benefit of the tape, Ann Taylor has refused to answer.’

Ruth decided to read out the coroner’s report, detailing every bruise and damage to the child’s body. When she read the part about the boot imprint on the child’s back, she slid the photograph across the table in front of the mother.

‘Did you do this, Ann?’

When the woman didn’t answer, Ruth decided it was time to play the ace card, and she looked forward to it. This cold-hearted bitch of a woman was about to be arrested, but not before Ruth had enjoyed herself. ‘Are you aware that the person who wore these boots would have left significant DNA inside them?’

Ruth paused, watching as the realisation sunk in.  ‘And are you also aware that we have tested your DNA and it has been proved that you are the owner of these boots?’

The fear and shame were beginning to show on the woman’s face, and Ruth watched, wondering what she would do now. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Ann Taylor’s face seemed to implode, as the terror of being found out took effect.  ‘I swear I don’t remember that part… I know I were angry, but when she fell over and banged her head, I thought she were dead…’

‘So what did you do then, Ann?’ Ruth knew what had happened next, but not which one of them had done it.  ‘Were you aware that Amy was still alive when you dropped her into the canal?’

The horror was all-encompassing, as the woman realised the enormity of what she had done. She looked around the room, just once, before she started screaming…

 

 

 

Jaye’s Week ~ Time for a change?

We are constantly told that reading more will make us better writers and that we should blog with enthusiasm to build up our presence on the web. But I find that some of the things we need to do seem counterproductive and time-consuming. Confusion is not a happy place to be, so my brain has rooted out its thinking hat. Not sure if that might be an oxymoron!

Don’t get me wrong, reading does make me think, and probably improves my vocabulary, but sometimes this can be counterproductive too in that I end up reading too much, taking time away from my writing. When I first started blogging, I read everything I could get my hands on, desperate to learn the secrets of the black magic box of the blogosphere.

And admittedly, I learnt a lot.

Just lately though, I have noticed a slight change in my attitude to all things blog related. It suddenly dawned on me that as bloggers, we are trying far too hard to be the best at what we do with our constant searching for the golden egg. And because we are so busy running around like headless chickens, we are losing sight of our focus, the real reason we blog in the first place. We might even be missing the plot or choosing all the wrong moves.

Lately, I have been worried that there doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day to do everything. What with the increasing amount of emails and time spent on social media, there isn’t much left for writing or blogging, come to that. Not to mention any new ideas that need to be explored, or any of our other interests.

Apart from the reviews, I haven’t read a book simply for the joy of reading it in ages.

It could be time to step away and have a long hard look at what we do. Time to prioritise and cherry pick what we really want to concentrate on. Don’t ask me what, for my brain hasn’t got that far, yet. I just know it is time for something new, exciting even. How about that?

Life might be different when the dust has settled, but hopefully better. We have to concentrate on what we can do and do well, instead of chasing so many rainbows…

What does everyone else think?

12 Bloggerz! May 2021

Every minute of the day someone is asking a question of someone else …. you know?

I rest my case.

12 Bloggerz is a once a month question feature where l will …. ask you questions … 12 of them!

If any of my readership wishes to pose a question to be featured within 12 Bloggerz in the future episodes – please drop me an email to
 aguycalledbloke63@gmail.com

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is Sig-Banner-12-Bloggerz.jpg

https://aguycalledbloke.blog/2021/05/06/12-bloggerz-may-2021/

Rory is offering up his “12 Bloggers” thing he does once again this month. He poses 12, oh I don’t know, irreverent questions. Here are our responses!

  1. When was the last time you were totally lost?
    [Be this physically, mentally, emotionally, or so on, interpretation is yours.]

I will never own up to being totally lost! If that day ever comes, I will make for the hills. Can I be a little mislaid instead?

  • Do you think that we, as viewers to the entertainment industry, have much higher and perhaps unrealistic expectations to the content that we read, watch, or listen to today in comparison to previous years and or generations?

I do think we have become highly critical about almost everything these days, and that, I believe, is a good thing. Why should we settle for anything less than perfect?

3. Does money ‘really’ make us happy or is that just a myth and more importantly it is ‘what you do with it’ that makes you happier?

Personally, I would be ecstatic if I had pots of money. Think of all the good I could do with it!

  • How important to you is it to be right?

These days I am hardly ever right, thanks to my diminishing grey matter…

5. How often do you find yourself completely confused with life and the way it is changing and has changed over the last ten or twenty years?

I have given up worrying about all the new changes. I don’t like confusion or change in any form, so I just stick my head in a real book and let the world carry on without me.

7. How many emails do you get a day [roughly] and from who do you get the most?

We get over 100 emails every day, and most of them are begging letters and deleted immediately.

6. When out shopping and carrying your goods or groceries, which do you prefer to use more often – paper or plastic bags [reusable] or cotton totes or something else?

These days, thanks to Covid, I don’t go out shopping any more. Everything I need is delivered to my door!

8. Have you ever made for yourself ‘homemade wine/spirits’ and if so, what was it made from and how was it?

This is something I always wanted to try. My granddad made parsnip wine and it was lovely – but lethal!

9. In your opinion and from no ‘fixed time period,’ what have been in your eyes the top 5 most memorable television series you have ever watched and what made them special to you?

I love medical dramas, so ER and Grey’s Anatomy are favourites. I also enjoy good crime thrillers, as I use these as research for my books.

10. What’s wrong with today’s music as opposed to the music of your yesterday’s – do you consider the music now to be far worse or greatly improved and why?

In my opinion, there is very little ‘music’ around these days, just noise. Yesterdays music is better by far!

11. Does world history really matter to our daily lives – is it that important – l mean it’s not like we can change anything right – what do you think?

I won’t comment on World history. Most of it is false or distorted beyond all reason.

12. Do you believe that a good night’s sleep and waking up refreshed the following day helps you make better decisions or worthier improvements to your life – or it makes no difference at all?

A good nights sleep is important, our brains really need a rest these days. I know mine does. It’s almost like starting over each day with a clean slate!

We are looking forward to read your responses too!

Jaye’s Week… Growing old Disgracefully…

I am not fond of the house we live in.

It is a vast improvement to where we lived before, and why we moved.

But…  life here is getting harder. The stairs are a struggle for my arthritic knees. It gets too hot in the summer because the insulation in the loft is ancient. We freeze in the winter because we only have a few ancient storage heaters.  Parking is another nightmare because we live on a busy and noisy main road!


Just lately, I am feeling an infinity with the place as it starts to show its age. Which leads me to wonder how much longer we can live here. I long to live near woods or water, preferably both…

Serious cracks are appearing on walls and ceilings, and ominous creaks follow me up and down the stairs, and not just from my knees!
The chimney stack on the roof is supported by steel bands, but chunks of brickwork rain down into our yard on a regular basis.
Doors swing closed all by themselves and the bathroom floor slopes like the Swiss alps.

This house was built in 1887, which makes it 134 years old. So, how old is too old for a domestic domicile?

I suppose there will come a time when the cost of repairs or renovation will become a bridge too far. A bit like me?

I take vitamins, fish oil, turmeric and as healthy a diet as I can manage, and attempt yoga every day, but am I doing any good? And when did I switch from being a silver surfer into a mouldy golden oldie?

How long before I get condemned, along with the house?




Dark Gods… #Poetry

Dark Gods

There are Gods that have no light
They live in darkness
Dwell on sorrow, feed on fear
They drop nightmares like rain
We never feel them enter our minds
We never see the dark shadow
that falls across our soul
Nor hear the dark composer of our thoughts
When fear calls, we stand to attention
Dark whispers scratch the mind
Push us forward when we should turn away
How hard is it, to just say no…?

© anita dawes 2020