White bruise

Surface fed by the apple moon.
Glossy angle skin reflects the winter’s night.
A smile spread so thinly that truth threatens to break free.
Underneath and inside the storm settles.
Displaced pools of blood and memory wash into new courses.
Beneath never forgets.
Pale brown eyes reflect nothing but an illusion.
The fingerprints remained on my heart, long after you left.
It never shows as bitter.
But it burns in a cold fire that time will never quell.
Embedded words that stain this soul.
Never unseen by me.
Life tries to climb so high upon us now.
Never knowing how incomplete. How far I fell.
I stopped answering.
When you stopped believing.
And now this history spreads inside like a never fading white bruise.
Invisible to the future eyes that are now forbidden to go underneath.
I can see that in your lies.
That you would now only pretend to want to know.
Kissing this iceberg skin.
Numbed by the memories locked within.

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Cold murmur

I will always find you there.
Where the winter turns on high.
Deep down in those memories.
Still you will try to assuage.
Cutting cloths of gold to patch and plaster.
Those were the delicate days.
Filled with stories and culverts where dreams were forming.
To reduce it down to youth is insulting.
You were wicked and wild, level headed in times of crisis.
We were shamed by your glory.
Manoeuvred into your frame to sparkle in the dying sun.
The forest claimed that reasoning.
Covered it in snow, the blood of the berries as our hurt.
Primitive was that love.
A vagrant call to the future with two fingers up at god.
All too soon it collapsed.
Shattered into blue.
You remained frozen in that time.
Dreams dipped in diphtheria, coughing up only blood.
As the rest melted into the tomorrow.
We find you locked in the frozen landscape.
We call into the woods to find you once again.
But you remain, cold and unforgiving.
Trapped in ice.

Primitive

Talk and chatter with those hands.
Coarse and harsh in winter.
Teeth as marked as coffee cups.
Spitting out a fraction of a truth,
that you find in confusion.
Bless the wine and sign in time.
Propagate delusion.
Your bones weigh like sugarcane.
Eyes as large as saucers.
Drinking in the world once more.
A heightened state, licking the eyelids.
Hyperbolic antibiotic kisses travel up your neck.
That flash and capture. Printed for a new era.
Residing in memory, only for a second.
Locked inside a screen.
Assuming the algorithms will take you there.
And keep you safe.
But there’s fire on the horizon.
A progress that has yet to be found.
Pulling out of those snow drifts.
Ripping out honeycombed bricks of the world.
You bought the future, by selling the past.
Waiting for the ice age below.
Listening for such silence.

Between the jars – Underneath Europa

Covered in ice, Europa is one of the four of Galilean moons of Jupiter. It is slightly smaller than the Earth’s moon, and it is the sixth largest one in the solar system. Named after Europa, the mother of King Minos and lover of Zeus, the moon is the cold diamond satellite on the neck of space.

I say covered in ice, when really its crust is an ice-water combination, rupturing and freezing in parts, scarring the planet in darker slashes that glow red and rust brown from a distance. The temperature of its surface is about -160°C; bone shatteringly cold and uninhabitable.

But it’s underneath where life begins.

Under the ice crust, but not solely to reside, lie the vast ice cities. Forged out of the frozen nitrogen and comet dust, these vast and palatial cityscapes warren through the planets mantel, each one a testament to design and solar freezing, which bathes the subterranean spaces in a light form that breathes like that of a plant. The air heaves and flows like a tide, washing the buildings and inhabitants in a cosmic breath.

It was here that the girl came from. Deep beneath the ice sheets that, on radiation days she would crack the surface to explore, the girl broke out of the fallen star that signalled her birth. She grew fast, and showed a curiosity that was not usually found in the others around her. Her family were close however, other shards of the same galaxy that collapsed and contracted, reduced down to the tiny crystal balls that grew like eggs, hatching new life. She held an especially strong bond with her particle-father, who nurtured her imagination and curious ways and loved her very much

Though their lives seem strange and distant, their family dynamics are not far removed from those human ones on earth. One example of this is ‘Creation extol’.

Much in the same way as celebrating a birthday, those on Europa celebrate the day of which you were created. It sounds more clinical than it actually is, for the day itself is full of laughter, dance and gift giving. The best part of Creation Extol, and all would agree on this, is the song and dance that is sung called ‘OOcite’. The rules of the dance are as so:

Rules of ‘OOcite’

  • Break off into groups of threes.
  • Each one has a small pillar of ice in each hand (the size of regular pillar candle).
  • You can only have three colours to your pillar: Rust red, Blue or Green and these can’t be mixed. (The one who’s creation day it is, will have a Black one. The meaning behind each colour is significant.)
  • As the music begins, the song is sung [lyrics below] and everyone begins to move around holding their ice pillars out in front of them in their palms.
  • As the song has a magical property, and only when sung in unison, the ice will begin to emit a glow based on the colour you’ve chosen. They will project an image in front of you between the two pillars (making something that looks like a tv screen).
  • Here you can view moments past, present and future.
    As the colours signify which, here they are:

Rust red – Past events

Blue – Present happenings*

Green – Future moments**

Black – projects paths and choices to be made to benefit the viewer in the year ahead (a cosmic guide, so to speak)

*This can be from anywhere in the galaxy and beyond.
**As the future is harder to see, the green pillars of ice burn away faster than the others.

  • The participants move and rotate like spinning dervishes, graceful and humble.
  • The song is repeated until all the pillars have melted away.
  • Once the pillars are gone, the colour glows from the ice will fly off and merge, exploding on the one celebrating their creation (think the Hindu Holi festival).
  • A large meal follows the dance usually.

Lyrics for ‘OOcite’:

Your days reach forth like fingers of Gods.
Into the palm we dance.
We fall and fold like happenstance.
Frozen like tears in trance.

Each hand in time and eyes of Nara.
View what we wish to see.
Like lunar shells from illumi-trees.
That spark the light within our seas.

So now we peel back the skin of life.
To extol (insert name).
Into hearts, and into heads.
Our love we weave and thread.
Our love we weave and thread.

(Repeat)

It isn’t unknown for someone to usually add another verse once the initial song is complete and all the ice pillars have melted. These usually take on a ‘roasting’ nature, playfully poking fun but without any mean spiritedness.

Fact – One such OOcite song/dance went on for 8 hours straight. But as one day on Europa is equal to 85 hrs on earth, this doesn’t seem too long really. They usually only last 30 ‘earth’ minutes.


Read the story ‘White/Blue

35 degrees under ice

Broken and bleeding.
With sticks to keep my eyes open.
You left me, healing,
Asleep under winters duvet.
How scared was I when the nights rolled in.
Dark, and threatening, to never lift.
You said the tears would fix the wound.
The fox call, which entered the room.
Covering everything that was beginning to get cold.
You promised to make things better.
Nourish my leaf fell heart and welcome the spring of together.
Taking my hand to brace against the weather.
Which only heightened the storm inside me.
The tempest of old memories.
Old moments that lowered my pressure.
A winter’s flurry, to freeze the pain.
Hoping I could love again.

Anywhere else

I want you to remember.
As you struggle to breath.
While you shake and crack, and wither within.
Close those eyes which hang like dying stars.
And dream.
Welcome in the disassociation.
I’ll hang the universe on you while you sleep.
Remembering where it all begun.
You and the stars will fall silent.
Drifting once more into the beyond that calls to you.
Which has always called, but you’ve never responded.
I want you to remember.
All the things I feel.
All the ways the memories form like ice around your eyes.
A Siberian shift into summer songs.
Flavoured voices caught in the air and on your tongue.
Try and remember.
Which days to savour, and which to let go like planetary balloons.
Floating out of your solar system.
As you fall into now.

Crystal trees

Crystal trees ring like a loathing of history.
Vibrating through your bones like a rage of a thousand lifetimes.
Where do you go to, when the day gets dark?
When the glass shatters, and splinters your soul?
Your confetti disposition melts on this tongue.
And floats away in the breeze that comes.
A mountainside gale, blown through snow and alpine air.
Off the twisted roots that spring up like hands pulling you down.
Covering you against the coming storm.
A wandering frost inside these veins, creeps and lows.
Like a tide of shame.
Tinged with the blood rouge of regret.
Whilst you settle on my eyelid like a wandering snowflake.
Offering a glimpse at a thousand dimensions.
And a peek inside my own.
I blink away the sight of you there, covered in attention.
Asking me once more.
Who am I?

Sugar from the ice age

Climbing their ultimatums, sweaty palms and apathy.
I wanted to tell you I was not afraid.
You eyes dart, escape hunt. Claw at me to make it right.
Pooling in the aftermath.
Prompting stuttering words.
Automatic charades. Stuck like a frozen mammoth in a glacier.
You can call me that, name me after the poet.
Hunting the oxygen in this like a hungry flame.
Sweet delicious cinnamon eyes.
Come alive.

Polar warming

You cannot put out this fire, the dreams ignite every night.
Laying here, disappearing into you and loosing myself.
I came from the north, closer to the stars.
Falling down and free to where you find me.
Out of climate, out of touch.
The desire is making a fool of me as I watch the world spin by in a trance like blur.
Put your gun on the table, let us watch the northern lights.
Kiss me quick then blow my mind.
Throw your ice cubes in the sea and save me.
I’m not like the others, this is something you must understand.
I’m everything you’ve ever needed, and everything you’ve never wanted.