boulders on the beach

have we all felt at certain times:

no matter how hard i try

i am not getting anywhere

well this is certain times

and writing always helps me

winter did arrive here, those black boulders are covered in snow

the white feather too

how can something that looked so beautiful when i found it

now suddenly seem full of teardrops and it is making me cry

don't let me worry you, underneath all that snow, the grass is still golden, the rosehips red.

 when i stepped out on the porch tonight in the dark i spooked a deer

and all is quite well

how can a few light words being whispered, rattle me that deep

am i that fragile?

 where is the strong woman that is me?

There is an old house on the hill

The following story is written by a friend of mine, Bluelight.

 I wanted to post this story here because i felt it fits well with the castle spirit in some of my recent writing.

Hope you like it.

There is an old house on the hill. No one lives in it. It has many secrets to it. 

& you will find them all out in this story.

As you walk up to it you see bars on all the doors & windows. You make your way to the front door, put the key in & turn it to open the door. The next door you come to is not locked so you just push it open. You see no carpet on the floor, just bare boards. You walk across the floor & the boards creak. This room you are in now is big, very big. You get to another door & you open it & you look inside. There is a giant kitchen. In the kitchen there is everything one could ever want & there is lots of room too. So you walk trough the kitchen & through an open doorway to another large room then through another door until you come to the back door. It is locked & there is no key.As you turn around to go looking around, you see a trapdoor. What's in there? You grab the big old ring & and pull it up. It's heavy, but you get it up & look inside. & the a light just comes on. So you walk down the old wooden stairs all the way to the bottom. It is cold. As you walk in more lights come on. You see what looks like wine racks. You walk over to it & another light comes on. Yes wine, old dusty dirty bottles. You pick one up & wipe the dust off. It's year 1735. Old bottle. You put it back on the shelf & walk out. & keep walking down a hall way. The hallway seems to go on for miles. after about 20 minutes of walking you get to the end. There's a big steel door. You pull the door open, it's heavy. You look inside and now you see bdsm equipment. It is very old, maybe as old as the bottle of wine. There is no padding on anything, just wood & steel. & lots of old shackles & things. Really old whips, leather ones & everything is dirty and dusty. You leave, close the door & make your way back down the hallway & and up the stairs, close the trap door & walk to the front door, close it behind you and lock it. Hop back in your car & drive off.....

  -to be continued-

the elusive horse

Hiata, Oct 2013

did you come on this walk with me?

in the moist fall air

the field bathing in sunlight.

before; our heads bend over the map

our fingers pointing.

after; there! there he is 

the horse

on the north side of the far field.

did you come on this walk with me?

 across the far field 

futile searching for a lost horse 

in a maze of poplars.

now; we might as well go to the river

 clay cliffs should lead us there

the earlier banks of the river

 they follow a path 

which the river took

in the past

did you come on this walk with me?

the map showed this path 

going north south.

the reality; a path that goes east west.

 did the earth shift?

are we lost?

we get wet from melted drops 

that cling to spruce branches

deeper into the forest, descending.

 we are going down.

down is good, right?

rivers find the lowest spot in the land,

till they reach the sea, right?

narrow animal trails through thick willows

there! there is the river

blue clear mirror like water

a river so wide it is barely flowing

look! two swans look at us

they too spotted us late.

 seemingly hesitant now leaving 

together going south

as one 

our wings flapping on the water

incredibly loud

the noise

scattering the perfect stillness

i am so happy we see the black horse galloping again

skating

The skating season on natural ice has started.
I do think it is 3 weeks late,
better late then never
which does happen some winters ( in my case)

life in the castle

the new queen:

what are these crazy waves?

the wind howling wildly

circling the tower

lifting up dead leaves from far away forests

slapping them against my window

i want you now

my body can not wait

i scream at reasonable people

patience?

i know the wind has never roared a word like that

and that morning:

running up and down spiral staicases

not quite knowing which tower you will be in

i look for animals too

the wild ones, that move through here

the old king:

castle spirit

wild animals up and down staircases

and

sorely impatient; not reasonable....

I see you in my lap.....and we are entwined

the wind is howling

but we are louder

the world underneath

my face on the cold linoleum

a white rabbit hops around me

cheerfully, more coming in

through the crack of the door

from the light into the dim lit room

dark blotches on the white

like blood splatters

that was before you ran cold water over my wrists

even before raindrops came out of your mouth

like words of poetry

witch of the woods

now you see her

now you don't

but know 

that

she's always 

up to no good