The moon in his eyes……

Inspired by an ancient waymarker in a silent churchyard way up on Exmoor; a land that has so many tales to tell, if only it could…..

A solitary waymarker stands tall, marking the boundary of the graveyard; a tick upon the land. No blood, no sign of any struggle, not now. A girl long ago cruelly hunted down and burned, leaving no trace; just ashes, dust scattered to the winds on that wild and desolate moor, where these days only the wind howls to the moon.

Not for the likes of her sweet and loving soul, the serenity of a consecrated graveyard. Not for the likes of her the dignity of remembrance. Not for the likes of her an epitaph carved lovingly in stone; only the winds and rain to wash away all traces.

All she did was to fall in love, to surrender her heart and soul to the one who loved her back.  All she did was fall in love wildly with a passion of her being way beyond her years. All she did was fall in love with a dark and wild immortal with the wind in his hair and the moon in his eyes. All she did was to allow him to love her back.

All she did was to kiss him on that wet and stormy night in that dark, desolate graveyard way up there upon the moors. It was all she did, one kiss, one passionate and rain-soaked kiss.  It was all she did, she fell in love with the immortal with the wind in his hair.

Some nights when wandering up there on the wild moors, one can almost catch the movement of shadows out of the corner of one’s eyes. One can almost hear the rustling of wet leaves and the sound of damp footsteps running frantically through the graveyard.

One can almost imagine in the darkness, the waymarker with the sturdy gorse bush still growing at its foot after all these years, on an otherwise dry patch of lifeless earth where nothing else will ever grow. And if one was to imagine sinking down upon one’s hands and knees under the waymarker, one can almost see the rivulets of blood running forth onto wet saturated garments in the rain; up there on the moors.

And some nights when the moon is round and the air is dry it is not hard to imaging a lonely cloaked figure under the waymarker scraping away at the parched black earth where nothing lives. One could almost imagine a figure with the wind in his hair, uncovering an old and crumbling piece of wood tossed away in haste by those who feared a vengeful god and who had time and guilt on their hands; a simple weapon that had long ago pierced his lover’s trusting heart.

One could almost imagine
Almost
Whilst up there on the moors….

marker.png 3

Adueni ‘Keeper of Scrolls’

May 2016

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Lives in Mono

I watched the people through the glass
Their lives a mirrored reflection of each others
Pale
I stood apart
I cast no reflection
And was glad

Cambridge: March 2017
 

 

Zodiac: an interpretation of Haiku

Also from February’s Allographic Workshop

Seasonal Hauki with the chosen word of ‘Zodiac’

The dark winter skies

Clothe the Earth in icy cold

Zodiac sleeping

Then springtime flies in

Sweet scents and verdant new growth

Zodiac waking

Summer heat, too hot

Desert dry upon the skin

Zodiac listless

At last Autumn comes

All is calm within the skies

Zodiac rebirths

zodiac

Allographic Workshop

February 2017

“The Keeper of Scrolls”

Ego Derived…..

From the Allographic workshop in Cambridge these words resonated in my mind from the word ‘Ego’:

Power… Fear… Uptight… Chains… Boundaries… Delusion… Lies… Humanity… Crushed… Fruitless… Commanding… Deadly… Visionless..

And from those words a poem birthed

Hidden within humanity

Are the boundaries of delusion.

Held strong by misplaced power

Fed by fruitless fear and lies.

In a visionless future world

Hides the deadly chains,

The lock and key lost in time.

Yet time itself already crushed

Within its own delusion of lies.

A fruitless circle of becoming

As the Serpent is fed

ouraborous

February 2017 Allographic Workshop: Cambridge

‘The Keeper of Scrolls’

Who Will Dance With Me?

Who will dance with me?

Who will pluck a rose and place it in my hair?

Who will beat the drum?

Write the words and sing the song?

Who will dance my dance?

Swirl me round the dance floor when the last tune has gone?

Or is it me and only me who knows the tune; can sing along?

Rhythm pounds inside my head

I dance alone;

I dance alone;

I dance alone.

 

dance

 

September 2010

“The Keeper of Scolls”

SLUMBERING KNIGHTS

Slumbering Knights from days of old
Mythical Beasts; stories untold
Fact and fiction are bound as one
Truth is hidden by the earthly sun
Dare to see what’s before your eyes
Look to the heavens and beyond the skies
Rhyme and reason is no more
Illusion is bound on these earthly shores
Hear the story; read the rhymes
Take a leap right out of time
The truth is where it’s always been
Yet hidden deep within your dream
With the slumbering Knight
On the shores of time
With the mythical beast
No more seen…

 

January 2017

‘The Keeper of Scrolls’

Truth is a darkness; suspended in a time that does not exsist…..

Endlessly i fall caught in a chasm of wonder. Spralling onwards

treasure

The bones of my being find shelter & solace ‘neath the comforting shadow of my soul

Digital Camera

Sounds of tinkling pipes woven by the winds own charm weave around my soul

Digital Camera

Silently i tread the years of earthly time; my one companion, my warrior soul…

Digital Camera

With breastplate and sword I stand steadfast and mighty. In silence i rule

Digital Camera

Beauty always lingers and lives on in the hearts & minds of men, time cease to be & all there is is the truth….

wales-4

My name is silence only whispered by the wind when the sky is dark

Digital Camera

Suspended timelessly in a space of my own creation; i weave reality with the electrons of my mind…..

airfield-5-2

All secrets revealed, all knowledge known. At the end of days i shall become into being and She will rise within

pic01075

And so it goes on bood spilled, innocents ravaged man’s death on the cards….

for-poem

The time is now here for man to be accounted. Too late for good deeds…

primeval-waters-2014-1

Save your soul, lest you weep and pray for no more tears. Tis over, all done…

graves-1

Beach huts hibernate dreaming of hot days and sand. Returning cycles

wales-2-for-fb

Beauty always lingers and lives on in the hearts & minds of men, time ceases to be & all there is is the truth. The land will endure over centuries of upheavel, always renewing itself at perfect points giving humanity life once more

wales-15-for-fb

Words from the ‘Keeper of Scrolls’  ‘Truth is is darkness suspended ina time that does not exsist’

January 2017 (All photos and words are original and belong to the author)

The Visit… a seasonal poem

That time around midnight

When the air hangs as cold and as still as death itself.

When the earth sleeps

And only the creatures of the night are out foraging for food.

That was the time

When I saw her.

I had popped out to empty the rubbish.

I had my eyes half screwed up and was hunched because of the cold.

I didn’t notice anyone there at first.

The shadows;

They always seem to come alive at that time of night.

Yet I caught a faint flicker,

A kind of glimmer in the darkness.

Assuming it was light escaping from my half open kitchen door,

I made my way around the side of the house to the bin.

As I came back to the garden I heard a faint sound,

A beating of wings,

Then silence.

Something, I don’t know, made me look up and walk towards the pond.

It was then,

Then I saw her.

She was sitting on the rockery beside the overgrown heather,

Unaware I was watching,

Staring, utterly enthralled at the snowdrops.

I think she had never seen anything so beautiful,

But then neither had I watching her.

I could hardly dare to breathe lest my breath should give my game away.

Her delicate silvery hand stretched out to tenderly pluck a bloom.

I was unsure whether to move forward or back or just stay there.

Then in that instant,

In that very instant she saw me.

A moment transfixed in time

Lasting an eternity;

Yet in reality a split of a second.

Her eyes pierced mine

And I felt her soul and mine beat as one.

Recognition.

And in that very moment I knew I would never ever see her again.

It was as if she realised then, that she shouldn’t have been here.

Shouldn’t have been seen.

She gave me one last haunting glance

And with a gentle beat of her translucent wings silently faded into another realm.

 

The air was colder

And stiller than ever before.

A dark void was all that was left.

I walked over to the pond,

There on the ground were the snowdrops,

Strewn as she had left them

In her haste to depart.

I bent over and gently picked them up,

Caressing them against my cheek as I walked back to the house.

 

A lone tear dropped on to the perfect white petals.

I shut the door as I went inside,

Suddenly shivering.

 

Then started looking for a tiny vase.

 

fairy

 

Written 17th February 2003

‘The Keeper of Scrolls’

How to master the Vampiric Arts

Knight and damsel

The first thing one needs to establish is to proceed with caution; If one does not have a ‘calling’ for this darkest of all Arts, then one is best to leave well alone.

Do not be fooled by the likes of Twilight or The Vampire Diaries etc, for there is nothing sexy about this ancient Art. For it is a basic need and want and cannot easily be controlled by those unlearned of our ways.

Do not seek a quick thrill in the vampire worlds but seek life, seek renewal, seek to live and seek to evolve, above all seek a teacher, seek a guide, even a sire,

Yet fear not, tread with wariness and caution and everything you desire will come before you when the time is right. Don’t be surprised if we, the old ones seek you out first, for we know your very thoughts and your innermost feelings; we have known you since the hour of your birth and we may find you before you find us.

If we invite you in, then graciously accept all that we offer you,  for not everyone is offered a door, not everyone is bidden a welcome, a way into our forbidden worlds. Once accepted in, you are well on your way to learn the ways of the blood.

Forget about the glamour, the mythology or everything you have ever known about our ways for we have been upon this earthly plain for aeons of time yet have always remained hidden within the worlds of men.

Once within our domain you will be invited to partake of the chalice of immortality; drink deep and well my friends, savour the red ruby wine of immortality, yet do not forget that the chalice; the vessel you lovingly grasp, may be of human form.

Learn not to give in to squeamish thoughts, although one usually finds that at the moment of the rising blood lust this is never a problem. Once proficient in the basics you will be ready to begin your adventure within the world of humans.

Do not fear for them or be sorry for them; for them it will always be a great honour to be chosen as a life enhancer; hence they enter the night time of our desires willingly and with acceptance. Quest to find your own life enhancer, bond with them and embrace their beautiful gift as often as you need to;

The more you are able to feed; to nourish yourself, the stronger you will become. Never take the gift of pure energy for granted, drink wisely and learn to cherish and savour every drop of the sacred life force. Over time you will begin to transcend your human form; you will be of yourself but so much more so; more advanced and enhanced.

All abilities will become honed to perfection as you embrace our ways; your eyes will surely shine with an inner fire and your skin will glow with an ageless radiance.

But think well my friends before you come knocking on our doors; our ways are not for the faint hearted, or for those kin of humanity. We have our own ways, our own kin, our own rules, our own houses.

The clans do not take easily to the falsity of outsiders but once the doors are open and you are proven to be one of the true kin then rest assured my friends, you will never ever want again.

Here endeth the first lesson on becoming Vampire…

 

Vampire Rose

Winter 2016

Keeper of Scrolls

Dark Moon Rising

There’s a dark moon on the rise tonight,

Sweet fear scents the air.

In blackest skies, from other worlds

A shadow casts its cloak.

A tale once played in ancient times

On this day will be told.

A Harvest sown so long ago

Stands ripened in the Sun.

What was sown will now be reaped,

‘Tis the blood of every Lamb.

There’s blood and fear upon our lips

And dread in every soul.

We feed the Ones who take and break

Our Oaths put to the test.

Our souls they steal within no bounds

To spill our Dark Blood on the ground.

Silently in darkest night

In masks known just to them,

Their rightful prize, their precious gold

Will not escape again.

As Dark descends and chaos reigns

The writings yet unfold.

We fall before the ones who map

The fate of every man.

Seize the fear and taste the Blood.

Be counted good and true.

Stay or go – tis up to you;

It is the final test.

As curtains fall upon this world

The tale is finally told.

But those who rid their earthly ties

Will see the Light shine through.

In deepest, darkest, deathly night

We start our life anew.

 

black-moon

 

2007