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Veilwake Liturgy: The Book of 27
Author’s Note – Before the Silence This piece began as a liturgy—written not to be published, but to help me find the soul of the Colour called Veilwake, the first of the 27 unnamed Colours in this series. I often write these longform, stream-of-consciousness meditations before shaping the Six Sentence story. They show me what…
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19.04: The Old Woman With No Cat
About The Old Woman Without a Cat The Old Woman and Fridge Archaeology(a Kitchen Liturgy) the old womanpries open the fridge— the cat perchedon her shoulderlike a pirate’s parrot, both squintingat the thing in the crisper:shrivelled, possibly sentient,glowing faintlylike a forgotten godfrom a discount pantheon. is it a potatoor a prophecy? the cat bats itwith…
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18.4: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat Responds to Weirdness – (Kitchen Liturgy in a Minor Key) the cat surveys the wreckage—the aftermath of the old woman’s latest experiment: a waffle iron etched with runesand muttering Latin conjugations under its breath;a blender full of salt,sarcasm,and the ghost of Tuesday’s regret;a spoon caught in an existential spin cycle. “this,” the cat…
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18 Apr: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: 1. £65 knocked off the price of switching winter wheels (tyres and alloys) for the summer ones (plus an oil change). 2. A pork loin roast that wasn’t as tough as a shoe and the crackling was perfect. 3. Six more tomato plants set into their permanent summer-long positions. 4. A…
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17.04: The Old Woman With No Cat
About The Old Woman Without a Cat The Old Woman Receives Three Cheers(A Kitchen Liturgy) the old womancatches her wordsin her cupped palms— a warmthshe can’t quite name,like finding a forgotten cookiein the pocketof last winter’s coat. the neighbor’s cat(now a licensed emotion translator)purrs the messageinto Morse code: dot dot dash—you. matter. comma. the crow,ever…
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15.04: Poem-a-Day Challenge
Sestina for the Cliffs at Beachy Head Here, where the chalk cliffs meet the endless blue,I walk to shed the weight of thought, to standlike wind-struck grass—alive, yet barely touched.The lighthouse spins its scarlet warning—brightagainst the tide’s slow gnaw, the edge’s creed:what falls—will rise again in salt and light. No prayer but this: the gulls’…
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15.04: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman’s Onions and The Last Supper I. THE KNIFE’S CONFESSIONthe old woman knowsthe knife’s dull protest,the way timesoftenseven the sharpestedges. II. THE PAN’S TESTIMONYthe onions sizzle,a soundlike whispering. the cast ironremembersevery mealit’s ever murdered— now it sighs,licks its own scars,and calls the old womanyes chef. she stirs the onionsslowly,as if tendernesscan be cookedinto…
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15.04: Poem-a-Day Challenge
V.And the Forest Takes You Back Again your heart was never mine—only borrowed by the light,by the resin’s golden cursive,by the leaf that turned its faceto your breath and whispered, i remember how you taste. take this with you:the way shadows lick your faceas you step onto the path home.how the air, thick with green,loosens…
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14.04: Poem-a-Day Challenge
IV.The Grammar of the Forest the air tastes—of green penniesand the ghost of last night’s rain,of split cedarand the slow dissolve of light on wet bark. breathe deep: your tongue learns a new alphabet. moss is a vowel here,pine resin a consonant—sticky as unspoken truth.even your teeth feel it—cool as river stones,humming with chlorophyll. tilt…
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14.04: A Six – The Book of 27
1 of 27: Veilwake(Six sentences. One soul. A Colour once felt, not seen. A shard of the First Colour: Veilwake.) 1 of 27: Veilwake Felreil walks where no wind speaks, and none dare follow, across a lunar-dry flatland that once dreamed of being sea but woke as salt-cracked stone—and when the black cloud drags its…
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