Celebration

Bonsoir tout le monde. 

I wish to update you all with a celebration of my publications and awards- now updated with the most recent addition:

PAPER MIRRORS


The full celebration of publications and awards can be found on slide-share - follow this link!

The Lost Voice

I have laryngitis at the moment, following acute bronchitis, which is ongoing. Consequently I HAVE LOST MY VOICE.

My speaking voice that is. Not my writing voice!

Now, that might be seen as a welcome gift to some (taking a break from chitter chatter) but it has proved to be extremely upsetting and exceptionally frustrating to me.

I have figured out that I quite like talking... to nice people that is. And anyone who comes to see me here, on my blog, must indeed be nice! Therefore, let me share more details about the news, referenced in my last post.

You may have noticed the rather large purple flyer dominating this post. Well, it advertises the upcoming publication PAPER MIRRORS, published by Crocus Books, part of Commonword, in which some of my writing features.

I am hoping this new publication will spur me on to revitalise my creative spirit and commitment to writing. To regain my voice so to speak. It's out December 12th. Read all about the launch on COMMONWORD'S Twitter tweet. And be sure and tell everyone about it - won't you?

Code Red

Another recent creation:

Codes in camouflage
On operation last night.
Cryptographic messages transmitted
Not right.

Murky grey delivery
Uncertain why
Reason for confusion
Operation vie.

Message ended
Was it clear?
Time running out
We're nearly there.

STOLEN MEMORIES

While I have a moment I thought I would share a short piece of writing that I penned recently which may be the start of something new..... enjoy!

They were taken without my knowing. I discovered they were gone in June when I returned. To my home. What used to be my home. Empty now. A shell with walls built from lost hopes and dreams. Standing empty and alone. Stripped bare and painted white now. Like a prison cell, closing in on me. Hollowed out from within.

At first I thought it was just the box. Dark blue with envelopes. Private letters. Handwritten in blue ink. Paper thin, lovingly created in yesterday moments.  A story of loves now lost- of friendships grown old and of childhood events in a journal. Light blue with pink flowers, a conflicting tale of teenage angst, ideals and promises for the future. Recounts of a mother now gone, a father who slowly fades into the distance as age takes hold of his mind. All of them gone. Memories stolen. Snapshots of faces and places. Times never to be lived again. Once crisp and clear now blurry with absence.

Taken from my unknowing hands without a struggle. Without a struggle because I was unaware. Unaware because I wasn’t there. Pushed aside like a dead ant, while the vulture pecked at the carcass of my life, stripping it bare- and I was unaware. Unaware that the thief was there. Someone I knew. Someone once loved. A sweet love grown sour fed by an anger through veins from a darkened heart- beating, alive but not living. A dead heart from a dead soul. Fed by the bitterness and envy, of hatred pumping its blood.