::Inici >A selection of members' writing

A selection of members' writing

We will be posting a selection of members' work here in future.

Victor Perez Garcia has now published a novel 'The Quest for Shambhala' 

https://edicionsexcalibur.webs.com/


Archaeology               Paul Connell
 
It’s only stone, my fingers tell me, rough,
ill-weathered, cut two thousand years ago
but formed in ancient seas of shell and bone
of creatures unevolved, denied selection,
layered instead, compacted, drained as
others grew, developed tools to quarry, cart and work,
ate of the tree of knowledge and knew that they
were naked without walls.
 
Walls become empires, empires fall.
Walls become houses, inns, cathedrals.
Stones recycle like ideas.
There’s little new when viewed from far enough away.
 
It’s only stone but has survived while flesh corrupts and is corrupted.
Shell and bone outlive the brawn, the brain, the braggarts known as kings.
 
The triumph of the non-select, the uninvolved, the never known,
may be, in truth, it’s only stone.
 
 
Haikus                          Victor Lluis Perez i Garcia

At dark gloomy night,               
silver moon is out of sight.
Stars mourning alone.
 
A wounded panther,
black as the heart of the night,
challenges shadows.
 
 
 
 
1
Passionate heartbeats
incombustible ignites
everlasting love.
 
                             2
Deaf shout, loud silence.
Sweet hell or painful heaven,
blissful agony.
 
                             3
Crying bloody tears,
dying alive, living dead.
Broken heart, no hope.


Susana Solanes - Poems

MARSHMALLOWS made in USA
 
How delicious they are
You can reach them with your hand
Stretch yourself
They are out there in the sky
This is Lauren´s poem
This is her passionate care for words
 
She has beautifully found them from the USA to Spain
Flying through the sky
 
How delicious this mixture is
It´s tasty, so simple and great
You can feel this pleasure stand still
 
Look at the sky!
 
Sweet white clouds mixing them up
Sweet white clouds bringing memories back
Sweet white clouds as you swallow them up.
 
 
 
 
NOTHING
 
Nothing than this tells you
That this is not enough
Though that wasn´t clear.
 
A blowing wind exists no more
And still, you feel yourself flying everywhere.
 
Where there´s nothing left
But me.