Broken

A poem reposted from 2015

broken glass by gere

image by “gere”

A broken house and a broken life
Of a broken man with a long-lost wife

The springs of bed and sofa’ve sprung
The stair-rods all are fitted wrong
Around the table chairs are chipt
The carpets all are rucked and slipt

The garden’s unkempt
The fences bent
The windows are grubby
(The cat is tubby)
In the bathroom:
The toilet seat’s loose and moves about
The tiles are skewed for want of grout
In the kitchen:
A lone hob-ring works
In the larder:
Fungi and black-mould lurks

But what’s in the old man’s broken heart
Are memories too dear to ever depart.

Posted in Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged , | 9 Comments

Lacy Umbrellas

The many wildflowers of the umbellifer family that grace our English countryside are seldom easy to tell apart (except for hemlock and hogweed). Here … I think it’s Cow Parsley though it could be an early flowering Hedge Parsley. The lack of bracts suggests the former while the lack of red stems suggests the latter. Ho-hum.

Hedge or Cow Parsley

Cow Parsley (probably): Photo 7th June 2018

The delicate lace-like flowers are easily tossed in the wind, so I reckon it a triumph to achieve (almost) a full head in focus.

#2018picoftheweek: Out of Focus

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One Hundred Roses

June. And the English hedgerows are threaded with roses.  I brought home over a hundred photos of the wild and delicate blushing dog-roses. Which one to show you? A difficult decision.

Dog Rose

English dog rose: Photo 7th June 2018

I chose this one. And this one . . .

Hedge roses

A hedge of roses . . . Photo 7th June 2018

 

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The Mummy

The Mummy Graceless for Eternity

There was a mummy, laid in a case.
Perfect legs, but smashed-in face.
What’s to become of him when he reaches eternity?
He’ll walk around in graceless anonymity.

Inspired by documentary watched way back in 2013, when this was originally posted
Posted in Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged | 13 Comments

Down Below

Down below the water, beneath the bridge where once was a ford, the chalky bedrock glows.

River weeds

An unexpected view of the much-photographed River Wensum: Photo 30th May 2018

#2018picoftheweek: Looking Down

The view is deceptive; the bridge is at least 10′ above the water; the water here is 4′ deep.

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Blue-petalled

This delicate blue-petalled (perennial) cornflower sparkled star-like from the hedgerow, calling to me, ‘Please take my pic’.

Perenniel Cornflower

Perennial Cornflower: Photo 30th May 2018

Although a ‘garden escapee’, the Perennial Cornflower has become a naturalised wayside flower, though far from common.

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A Very Bad Egg

Humpty . . . Hic

Humpty Dumpty, we’ve all heard of him,
Sat on a wall to tipple his gin,
Fell off it backward and cracked his head.
Altogether a very bad egg!

First posted: 2013

Posted in Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged | 10 Comments

Crossed Rods

While my usual photography subjects are wildflowers, landscapes and rivers, with butterflies and swans (if they present and stay put), very occasionally I happen upon something man-made (the lighthouse, the pier, the tractor previously featured here) and can’t resist it.  But seldom do I find the perfect shot, set up and waiting for me.

8th May Cromer Crossed Rods

Crossed rods on Cromer Pier: Photo 8th May 2018

#2018picoftheweek: Opposites … aka two anglers in friendly competition.

 

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Unsuited, the Suitors of Old Shore House

Sifadis 1 original by darksoul1

From original by darksoul1

Sifadis Lafdi shooed her seleman away. She had no need of a sedan-chair; she was a woman, not an invalid. And the past week had been dry, and the day was fine. It was less than ten steps across the Processional Way, twenty in all to the cluttered courtyard of Two Boars House. Used to the tip-an-tilt deck of a ship, her step wasn’t dainty.

Stup and Dizpeter, and the lesser (warrior) gods arrayed around the two colossi, failed to intimidate her. They were set on the courtyard’s chequered paving like pieces upon a chess-board, though the two queens were loud in their absence. Heli’s bright rays glanced off the silver hawk, seeming misplaced amongst the stone statuary, and made darker the veranda’s yawning arches. She ignored the many lateral doors set within them and headed instead to the “official” entrance with its flanking boars, very fierce-looking, painted upon the copper-red wall.

At her approach the two holden, uniforms a-sparkle, crossed their pikes.

‘Lorken, Kullt, you dare question me?’

‘We do our duty, Sifadis Lafdi, Bel Hade,’ said the older guard, Lorken.

‘Then consider it done. Now let me pass.’

With a glance at each other they swiftly obeyed.

She hiked up the skirt of her treacle-and-amber brocaded kirtle. With a deep trim of ginger minever its hem was heavy and she’d no wish to trip. It might be fashionable to wear knee-length kirtles elsewhere in Rothi, but not here on the east coast. Here, the Ram-and-Lambs’ weeks were as cold as full winter despite Heli’s return. And since nothing could chill the bones as deep as sea-mist, she wore a cloak too. It dragged behind her, heavy with its encrustation of golden embroidery. As she stooped to scoop up her hem, her blood-red hair fell like a veil around her. She swept it back with impatient hand.

The “official” entrance gave onto a circular chamber, three storeys high, that pulsed with light, the gleaming gold-veined marble that swept aloft with the stairs seeming its source. It was not. Sifadis barely looked at the spiral of arches with their part-hidden doors—Breken Lafard’s audience chamber was off to her right. A “path” of green marble tiles led her there.

Though not her first visit here, it was her first summons and, as with a passenger’s first time on the sea, her stomach lurched. Ay, she thought, and imagine how worse for those charged with treason. Restless and anxious, her gaze roved the cavernous chamber. Dark, though through no failing of Heli’s; the high-set green and blue glazed windows let in little light.

Breken Lafard-Legere was already present, sat on his low and round legere-chair. The chair wasn’t old but an imitation. With its circular canopy, it reminded her she needed a new summer parasol. No sign of Mikel Lafard Awis. But then this wasn’t to be a trial.

Her cloak softly shushed on the carpet in the otherwise silent chamber. Her shoes clipped. The multiple strands of her silver-gilt belt, where they hung behind her, set up an arrhythmic tinkle. Her bracelets jingled. The gold repoussé torc slipped but she resisted the urge to push it back up.

Though she wasn’t here in supplication, at the steps to the legere-chair she clasped her hands demurely before her.

‘Sifadis Lafdi of Old Shore House,’ announced Breken Lafard’s young cousin Garawen, which earned him a scowl.

Sifadis gave a cursory bow of her head.

‘Sifadis,’ Breken Lafard said in friendly, brotherly, tone. ‘You are not ignorant of why you are here.’

Ay, and how could she be when the entire citadel was abuzz with the talk. Ember, her most valued dulsind and kamerlinc, had reported only yesterday that the hindlings and urbs were wagering on it. She expected her hamlets fretted upon it, particularly the bachelor of Henet manse. Their concern she could understand; today’s decision could drastically alter their lives.

‘Impolite to ask a young woman,’ Breken Lafard hemmed, ‘but how many years have you?’

‘Twenty-three, Hadd Leef.’ She sounded child-like, her voice anxiety-weakened.

‘And how many years in Gowen Sivator’s ward?’ Breken Lafard asked as if his memory needed refreshing.

‘Five years, Hadd Leef.’ Five, since her father died. Though with her not a minor that ward-ship meant only that Gowen Sivator must co-sign her documents.

‘I take it you are aware that, if of a lesser birth, even though born of a House, you would have been married ten years since. You do know this? How much longer, then, do you expect to stay it?’

‘Until I meet a man who suits me, Hadd Leef. It is not intentionally stayed.’

‘But ten years and not a hint? Doubts begin to cluster. Particularly since you seem content to be alone with the Book. Now, were you of a lesser House, and not the last of your line, I would leave you to your studies. But your husband—when he appears—must become one with us. A stranger, invited in; you must appreciate how vulnerable that makes us. Therefore, for the sake of Lecheni, and the security of all, I now must press you. But, I am not unreasonable. I have chosen five suitable suitors. Five, that is more choice than most women have. All you need do is to wed one of them. Not unreasonable? What say you?’

She drew in a deep breath … only to discover her ability to argue had fled her. She held out her hands in mute appeal. But Breken Lafard was waiting and she had to say something.

‘Ay, agreed, Hadd Leef. That … is fair.’

Crud and crusts! Why did she agree it? Might as well drag her tombstone over her. And now a tear was welling. Well at least Affalind Lafdi-Legara wasn’t present to witness. She’d not hear the end of it: Lah! Proud Sifadis cried. Ha ha. She tried sniffing it back, but it now was too late. That recalcitrant tear coursed down her face.

Breken Lafard turned to his young cousin Garawen. ‘We will start with the geographical closest; an alliance with Cordoen is not to be poo’d at.’

He turned back to Sifadis. ‘Aithis Lafard-Legere of Citadel Cordoen has a nephew this year granted his sword. That makes him only a few years your junior.’

Sifadis held her poise though a grimace snuck near. Said nephew of Aithis Lafard was ten years her junior. And who were the other four chosen for her?


Taken from Roots of Rookeri, originally posted on crimsonprose in 2014

Posted in Fantasy Fiction, Mostly Micro | Tagged | 12 Comments

Asaric Tales e-book Update #7

Wow! May has been such a productive month for me; so much achieved. I’m feeling quite energised. But, whoa, I leap ahead, for there is something nasty waiting to trip me …

Asaric Tales update 7

Asaric Lies: Amend, Revise, Rewrite

Introduction to Kerrid’s world

Pointless putting your work out to beta-readers if you then take no notice of their comments. My beta-readers were unanimous in that I didn’t allow them time to become acquainted with the story world and the main characters before moving the story on.

No excuses on my part. Enough to say that a search through ancient files yielded three deleted chapters that, now reinstated, take the reader more slowly into the culture.

That culture was the next problem, at least for some readers.

Ancient Cultures: Patriarchal v. Matriarchal

We are so used to our Western Culture’s close approach to gender equality that we forget how recently this was achieved, and that even today it is far from universal. We forget the oppression of our grandmothers, and their grandmothers, gloss over it, pretend it wasn’t so, highlight the lives of the privileged few and claim it the norm for everyone. But fact is, fathers did have control over their daughters and who they would marry, especially high-status men.  And once married a woman did belong to her husband, to be beaten, or killed, at will. And though rape wasn’t condoned, it was the raped woman who was punished—in some cultures, stoned to death; the father/husband received recompense from the rapist.

From which you might guess that Asaric Lies is set in a patriarchal society.  Indeed, Kerrid marries into an even stronger patriarchal system.

I admit this is a potential anachronism. It is generally thought that patriarchy arose with civilisation, i.e. the city states of e.g. Mesopotamia, with their civil service and wars requiring standing armies. Before that, it’s believed the socirty amongst the early Neolithic horticulturalists was probably matriarchal. Apparenlty, women lost control when men invented the plough.

Asaric Lies is set earlier still, in a hunter-gatherer-fisher Mesolithic culture. Bands were small, culture grown and evolved to fit their individual needs. So here we might find any and all possible systems.

I chose to make Kerrid’s culture patriarchal for a reason. At the end of Book One (SPOILER ALERT), she is tasked with turning her people from their male dominated worship of the Ancestors and Sky Man, to that of the (female) Spinner. The resultant Cult of the Spinner plays a vital role in Books 3, 4 and 5.

Asars and Asaric Tricks

Several traits separate the Asar from his/her siblings. One is their ‘exudation’, an energy exuded by the Asaric body which, in its simplest form, is seen (but only by other Asars) as a light. This energy and its light is emotion-responsive. But, note, not all Asars exude the same colour and type of light. This I needed to get across to the reader.

Likewise, I needed for my readers to understand the Asar’s ability to hear thoughts. This is not an active ‘trick’. Like it or not, the Asar hears everyone’s thoughts, even animals—until they learn to block them. So, to know what a person is thinking isn’t an intentional invasion of privacy. Indeed, it could be said that it’s the Asar who suffers the intrusion.

But I do admit, some Asars might use this ability to force the person’s thoughts into more desirable channels, and thus might actively ‘mind-read’.

A consequence of this might be coercion, where the Asar ‘persuades’ the person to obey his/her wishes, a bit like hypnotic suggestion. However, whether the Asars will one day develop this ‘trick’, as yet they can’t hold that coercion for more than a few minutes. I need to stress this as one reader suggested Kerrid could readily overcome her opponents by use of this Asaric trick. No, she could not.

Part of the revision has been to ensure that potention readers understand all this.

The third distinguishing feature of an Asar is his/her self-healing body. But that healing is dependant upon severity of injury. A cut, no matter how deep, might be quickly sealed, as too with bones. But as Kerrid frets, she doubts her body would heal if torn and eaten by a cat (leopard, tiger), because part of her would be in the cat’s belly. Speed and success of healing depends upon the damage done. For example, there would be no healing in the case of decapitation. This becomes a feature in later books where it seen that body parts once lost do not regrow.

Transitions—of status, of location, of customs

Oh dear, I’d done it again: deleted scenes that would have guided my readers from one culture to the next, from one set of characters to another, from one life-stage to the next.

I have replaced two chapters, again anciently deleted. Not only do they help to tie the two halves of the story together, but also supply interesting information regards those confusing Asaric abilities; and allow a glimpse into the psyche of Kerrid’s ‘significant other’.

From Replaced Chapters to Deleted Scenes

When I put Asaric Lies out to readers I was aware that something wasn’t ‘right’. Something to do with the pacing. Considering Kerrid has a problem that’s sending her near-insane, she dawdles over its resolution. While there is a reason for that delay (it’s called the antagonist), that delay must have infuriated the readers; it annoyed me.

Enter the surgeon’s scalpel. I have now removed some of the delaying material. I’m hoping the story reads better for it.

Two for One: a Sharper Ending

I have removed the last two chapters—intended as a hook to Book Two; these are now the opening chapter of the next book—and replaced them with yet another deleted chapter from way back when. With the addition of a little magic I’m fairly confident that I have produced an ending that both satisfies and kicks the reader into Book Two.

So, as I said, altogether, a productive month.

A New Critique for Asaric Lies?

Yesterday (26th May 2018) I uploaded  Asaric Lies Chapters 1-3 to Critters.org with a Request for Dedicated Reader for the novel in its entirety.

I thought all I need do now is to wait. Until I received an email from Critters later in the day to say because of the “GDPR” privacy laws that went into effect May 25th Critters will no longer accept members in the EU.

To say I’m gutted is an understatement. Two months of weekly critiques, sometimes more than the one: good experience, yes, but I do feel that’s time wasted, that I could have been ‘gaining’ the points elsewhere to ‘pay’ for the final critique. To which, I have to say, I think Critters could have alerted us EU residents earlier, and not left it until the very last day. Very disappointed with Critters. So now I look for another critique group, or a critique partner or …

A new beta-reader for Asaric Lies?

If you think you might like to read what I hope is the finished first book, and then to give feedback in whatever depth you feel able, please contact me (See contact form above)

Return to Asaric Axis, Book Two

Anyway, bright side again. I am now free to resume the revision done on Asaric Axis during April’s Camp NaNoWriMo. When complete, I will put out the call again for beta-readers. I’m guessing that will be at the end of next month (June).

In the meantime, I thank you for your interest, your support, your comments ……………

Next update, end of June.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in On Writing, The Spinner's Game | Tagged , , , , , | 21 Comments