Blog Archives

A night before Ebony

Ebony’s shadowed legs followed like bone ivory music notes.

Umbrellas at dawn

No longer will the vampires mourn when each and everyone’s turn

Becomes an endeavour

Becomes closer to a pawn of the bloodless, pastry Underworld.

Fangs serve no required love

Unless

For the hearts that break

fastly

Under the tombstones engraved with dear forlorn amours.

Vials and trials make for complicated aisles.

Stephen Hawking’s shadow couldn’t blacken the suns holy masquerade without a tentative backhanded smile.

Flatulent legs pass an accordion player drowning out the tears of the past crystal nachts denial.

The fish bone corset of his lover – bygone

Weaved into a weathered, once feathered basket to uphold her now skeletal dignity,

A patched-up virgin awoken

A red sealed cockerel

His scarlet fever only breaks

out at night.

Nothing makes sense.

Not the severed maimed gingerbread men

Nor the black pudding

Nor the books written after the King’s night well spent.

Those paltry pawns of Christmas past climbed up the stairs on a general’s stare.

A goose-step march without all the trimmings

Merely a one-armed procured letter bitten off a one-off affair.

The traitor of Ebony’s moonlight dalliance wasn’t in his devilish dance on his journey

It was in the faces of his pseudo, mutilated, unvaccinated bastard offspring

Of each adultress, he gazed upon with an unassuming leer.

The crypt

I’m craving for a time when the snow would level me out

From the bathtub bottled gin

That takes 20 minutes of focusing the mind to open

Fatigued

I need a lie down before I put the bicarb salts to indulge my sins

I sit here dying my hair

I don’t want to disintergate this mortal skin

I know won’t compromise

The equations

They won’t grant me a dividend.

In the positivity I feel when my nonsense brings me more clarity

No disparities

The urge to give in to that initial rush.

Knowing that skiing the slopes of the cold rush

will end in a broken arm

A splinter to embarrass my ego

Show me up in a self-delusional femur propped up in a white cast in a sling.

Won’t humour my smile or bodily akin.

Write to recover

Write to reform

No, reaffirm I’m better without my foes

I used to call my brethren l.

I’m better

Now

I’m better now

Don’t ruin it

For brief a 30 second thought I sniffed out as win-win

Situation

Within

Actions become our past

Experiences

The future can make it count without losing an ounce of my heart to the demons of the crypt.

I won’t sin.

A book for the inner child

What a wonderful Christmas present 🎁 for those beautiful souls who make our existence more meaningful.

This debut novel from Affinity triangle follows a young protagonist girl called Sith ( Peace)& her father Gaol ( Love).

They go on a journey across the Moors to find the young girls mother, Firinn ( Truth) her mother’s lover.

In each chapter, Sith and Gaol come across many creatures and entities who represent different things.

The premise of this book is about mental & spiritual growth.

The first 100 books 📖 will can be personalised and signed by the author
All books will be dispatched from the 16th in time for christmas, or use coupon LOCALCOLLECTION to remove P&P & arrange collection with me in Hebden Bridge/Mytholmroyd area through Affinity triangles’s Etsy Shop, also from 16th)

https://fb.watch/2n038yu2ad/