Red ink
Like blood
Leaks
Onto ****** white paper
Soulless, empty
Wordless
The sanctity of the heart
Lies hollow
Shallow echoes
Pained
Rain falls
Clouds
Dark, and dank
Lightning flickers
Like tree roots
Reaches out
Across the darkening sky
Rivers run deep
Then dry
And i wonder
As i wander
Across the plains
Of the surreal
Remembering
That i still feel
The emotions
Of my beating heart
But feel as lost
As a butterfly
Who has lost its wings
As i remain stranded
And vulnerable

by Jemia

Eyes through the window
Glance
Staring
At the moist night air
Friday night
As heads, and hearts
Wander, and wonder
As dreams
Drift
And lift
As hopes
Are squandered
On a flickering chance
Of romance
Until reality
Squeezes in
Through the back door
Of false hope
As caged canaries
Whistle, and sing
Hoping to escape
As their wings flutter
Like bread, and butter
Remain stale
And obsolete
As we all bleat
Like lambs to the slaughter
As woollen hearts
Are sheared

by Jemia

Within a few moments after awakening, and still lying in my bed. i watched, as a strange looking creature flew about me. it was no bigger than a dormouse, and it appeared to have some strange webbing, in the shape of a funnel, caught on its wings, and one thin thread of this, was hanging down, and was caught on my bedstead.
So firstly, i tried to release the thread that had anchored it, as i gently pulled the creature in, like a kite, and spoke gently to it, so as not to cause it to panic. as i pulled it closer, i began to realise, that what i had at first thought was funnel webbing caught onto its wings, was actually part of the creatures body, growing from it's wings. the creature gently landed on my quilt.
Upon closer inspection, the head of this creature seemed to be similar in shape to that of a crossbreed of a kitten, and a dormouse, and i had to admit, i was overcome by its cuteness, but also perplexed at its strangeness!
It then made a sound, which again aroused some more deep curiousity, as it sounded much like between the appearance, a purr, and a squeak. The funnel web attached to its wings, was slightly tacky, so presumably could catch insects mid-flight, within this web, but i saw no evidence to support this theory, as you would a spiders web.
Its wings were similar in appearance to that of a butterfly, and the same colour as the rest of its body, a kind of translucent magnolia. but its eyes, oh, its eyes! these were a multitude of swirling colours, and seemed to float within their sockets, as though in orbit, and their depth seemed infinite.
Although this creature seemed alien to me, and perhaps was in some way, or had come through a portal from a realm of the fae, i was initially tempted to photograph it, then decided it would be wiser not to, as it would be hunted down, captured, pinned down in some science lab, and, or a specialist dish served up with oysters, or caviar, or caged within a zoo, or some such thing, and i had not the heart to be responsible for such a thing
Instead, i opened up window, and let the cool September air filter in, and i saw the creatures ears twitch, as it purred, and squeaked, whilst gently taking flight. it then flew around me thrice, before flying out of the window, into a ray of sunshine, then suddenly, it was gone.
When i went back to the bed, and looked at the part of the quilt it had rested on, i noticed a small circular webbed shape object there, no bigger than a pea, and at first thought, that i suppose even fantastical creatures have to poo somewhere! but then realised that it was some kind of egg that had been deposited, lain there. so with care i placed this upon an old gold coloured, silk tie, and some hidden instinct told me to do no more than this
I checked it regularly, and was amazed at how quickly it grew, and by the time i'd gone to bed, it had grown from a small pea to the size of a marble.
Yet when i woke up next morning, it had gone! i searched everywhere for it, and was completely puzzled as to what had happened to it, or if it had escaped the flat, how? as my windows were closed. i puzzled over this for many days, but supposed after all, it could quite easily have some kind of magic, in which case nothing should surprise me.
What i hadn't realised at the time, was that during my sleep, it had separated into small parts, and gently entered my mouth, as spiders are sometimes known to do, and i'd swallowed this. and slowly roots began to spread within me, linking up these small parts, within my own body, and within a few weeks, i'd noticed strange growths appear on my back, but they caused me no pain, and weren't even itchy, and within a month had formed into wings. and in the deep of the night, i would venture out, and fly around the town! no-one seemed to see me do this, and after a week of practice, i soon took to taking off from my balcony, it was truly exhilarating!
Then on my birthday, in early November, the creature appeared in my room. this time it spoke, and offered me the opportunity to join it, in its distant realm, but would not tell me where this hidden world was.
I have now left this world, and leave this 'tale' to explain my disappearance, be sure to know, that i will relish this new world, but will also miss my loved ones, friends, and family very much, farewell, or perhaps only adieu

by Jemia

The trees
So high
Swept the clouds
From the deep blue sky
Pastel coloured birds
Of a myriad breed
Swooped, then soared
Per chance to feed
The clouds, now tinged
A deep blood red
The rest of the sky
A deep blue, in hue
Were ready for bed
More clouds appear
That carried a darker veneer
Some a smokey black
And others
As white as snow
They were soon
All bound together
A blood black ****** show
And behind them
As they drifted away
With a soft swing
And a gentle sway
The clouds that remained there
Were of a reddish grey
And soon the night did descend
As the dark sky began to transcend
As all the clouds
Soon met their end

by Jemia

A rickety, ramshackle abode
Broken windows, bats in the loft
Dusty old spiders webs
Hang like spectres
And an old, now silent grandfather clock
Where time had passed it by
The floorboards creaked
As mice scuttled along
Holes in the roof
Had let the elements in
Recent rainfall
At least
Had washed away
Some of the dust
Yet deep down
An old corridor
Where walls hung empty
A small glow of light
Leaked out
From beneath a door
And the faint sound
Of scratching could be heard
As an old quill
Connected with a yellowing vellum
Words were born
Thrown together
As old India ink
were leaked onto empty pages
Drip drops created small puddles
As if drunken spiders
Had staggered across the pages
There were two sources of light
Within this dusty old chamber
One came from an oil lamp
The other
From glowing coals within the hearth
An icy chill wind
Suddenly swept through the broken leaking windows
Somehow snuffing out
The lamplight
Just at the time
The heart of the old writer
Beat it's last beat
This author of words
Would write no more
The quill
Somehow, and strangely
Carried on writing
Dipping itself
Into the India ink
Somehow empowered
With a curious magic
Its only memories
Had been of flight
And this is what it wrote of
The memories, flooding back
Of soaring skywards
With its host
And the thrill
And wonder
Of floating on the breezes
Feeling the warm currents
Caress its softness
This mother host
Also died
The feather fell free
Then floated along the soft grass
Of a dewy meadow
Was scooped up
By its current host
And taken to its current abode
Where it's tips, were carved into shape
As it was then fed with ink
As it was guided onto the soft white vellum
At first
It had no idea
That these patterns being formed
Were words
But soon
Began to understand
And learn
And feel the thrill
As the writer wrote
With the same excitement
As a bird in flight
Their heartbeats
Not disimilar
The quill
Began to write
With a mind of its own
Of the land, the sea, the sky
And as it wrote
The emotions, and feelings
Of its two hosts
Rippled through its feathered body
As it began to appreciate
The beauty of the seasons
And the music
Of birdsong
And the magic
Of mother nature
And for the first time
It cried
Soft gentle joyous tears
That fell softly
Like a trickling stream
Watering down the India ink
That in turn
Fell onto the soft, now yellowed
And aged vellum
And were soaked up
Into the poetry
Of life
The ink, one day
Dried up
And the feathered quill
Fell into a deep sleep
A peaceful calm repose
As it lay down
Next to the words
Of its life
Now as quiet
As an unwound clock

by Jemia

The sea
Came gushing in
Like stampeding
Wild horses
Their manes
Caught in the chill wind
Like the surf
Then like ghosts
Vanished Into the mists
These were soon followed
By more horses
Rearing up
With the crashing tides
And these too
Would disappear
And so it continued
I remained, transfixed
By these apparitions
Until finally
There was one
That had a silvery horn
I expected that this too
Would go the same way
As all the others
Its mane
White as the surf
As it stepped upon the beach
Then trotted towards me
Its muscles rippling
Its eyes
As blue as the ocean
Glanced over at me
As though
It had sought me out
As i stood
Amongst the dunes
I rubbed my eyes
As though
To erase
This strange vision
Within moments
The Unicorn stood beside me
It then knelt down
As if gesturing
For me to mount it
I was soon astride
And holding firm
Clasping onto its salty mane
As we galloped along
This desolate
Wind swept beach
I did not question
This strange reality
Simply relishing
This strange moment
The Unicorn
Suddenly banked
And returned towards the sea
Into the crashing waves
As i was returned
To the ocean
My silent sirens call
Had been heard
As the horn of the Unicorn
Glistened
In the magical moonlight

by Jemia

When questioned
On the future
Of humanity
I simply cried
And spoke my own truth
What future?
Holes are dug
And then dug deeper
Then the deeper they are dug
The more humanity
Is ******
So basically
Humanity
Has no future
As the powers that be
Are to ******* stupid
And focused on their bank balances
To face
The reality of this
As this reality
Falls
On deaf ears
And blinkered vision

by Jemia