Martin Shone's Blog, page 26

maybe it was you

windows were closed the heat of the sun was upon them and upon me as I sat reading engrossed but not entirely with the book which I am eager to finish I had other veins attracting my attentions causing me to re-read a line or two a fragrance for a moment nothing more than a … More maybe it was you

sans liberté

such a thing haunting and beautiful ghosts of sound you could call them echoes ancient rumblings sensuous vibrations lost, feelings such a thing is there such a thing? Could we catch the echo seal it in jade and hang it in the window the sun would ask the rain for its tears for it can … More sans liberté

Flying Ants

A tiny droplet of orange lands on my hand as I sit reading in the shade Looking up, expecting to see a bird closing its bomb doors I see nothing but the blue and the surrounding hug of the trees’ canopy I reach down to the grass to wipe away the perfect hit and there … More Flying Ants

the harmony of nature

to see nature in tune with herself to hear those vibrations of her harmony of her unconditional love to know the fragility of her power and the power of her fragility to understand her violence isn’t an act of thuggery, but growth, continuance, life to become a part of her, of her passion we have … More the harmony of nature

to reach beyond perceptions

there upon an outstretched finger sits a bird black against the thickness of white a white so silent, so still, so cold, so waiting it penetrates, clarifies the bones of existence this black bird silhouetted, fixed, lifeless except for its preening would be invisible if it were twenty feet away for the mist after the … More to reach beyond perceptions

each abandoned bit of blood

Heartbeats bounce around my bones till they pop out my ears relentless, relentless echo I feel life, draining away with each pump, each echo each abandoned bit of blood Inhaling pages of time I taste the solitude of years spent searching for you only to find the rose of my soul This force of fragility … More each abandoned bit of blood

Sacred places

In the depression of our hearts in the deepest, most sacred places of our souls this is where we find the moments, the beginnings of things There is no silence between heartbeats only the suffering of life’s echo waiting to begin waiting to end There is nowhere more sacred than that of ourselves where in … More Sacred places

Brings forth the spring

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That, feeling

right in the pit curling a feather with boots and wings that, feeling of desire of a need to compress tremulous it starts spreading wings of springs and glorious things that, feeling of apprehension of a call to unwind such warmth rising calling and falling that, feeling of inhibition of a flavour to inhale and … More That, feeling

“It’s Friday.”

A rather strange story from March 2013 ~ Thursday is a funny old day come clocking off time. Funny because we get paid on a Thursday, and funny because we get paid not only in cash but also in booze or any particular thing we care to partake of at the hotel bar; it’s a … More “It’s Friday.”