https://www.theparadoxmagazine.com/blog/rosebush
Posts
The Neighbourhood of Make-Believe My grandma said I lived in a dreamworld. But it was just a different neighbourhood one where almost anything could happen, one where almost anything could be found. Even so I’d searched the rainbows for so long, I’d given up hope of finding it and then it happened! It was sitting there on the top shelf in grandma’s kitchen, in her own neighbourhood, just waiting to be discovered. It was hidden in a brown jug. Such an ordinary piece of crockery. The perfect place for my grandma to hide her secret. As I reached up to bring it down, some of the contents spilled out in a scatter of golden buttons gleaming so much more brightly than the foil wrapped chocolate ones I was used to. I felt guilty to have discovered it before she shared her secret. I knew she would share it. She always did. Perhaps their light would capture rainbows. I would have a surprise for her then, a secret to share when she returned to our neighbourhood. https://www.mockingowlro
Where No One Counts When will we count the dead in Gaza? Those buried in named graves we know, all the tens of thousands of them, those buried in the rubble, the disappeared with no one left to name them, are still unknown uncounted. Then the other Disappeared, prisoners of war if it were a war, but with only the rights of terrorists who have no rights at all in this unequal conflict that some call ‘war’. And how can we count the injured in Gaza when there are no hospitals left and its people don’t count so no one can count those numbers. and perhaps no one will in a country where people don’t count. Now the starved and starving have joined them, the bags of baby bones the unaccounted numbers of intentional famine in Gaza where still no one counts. https://freevoicerevolution.substack.com/p/where-no-one-counts?r=2xyue1&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&triedRedirect=true
All Gold She was all gold her shimmering glistening veils ready to cover herself ready to dance ready to uncover herself. Who could fail to be seduced as she twined round the pole as she strutted her stuff as she sat on the laps. Her platter is gleaming still empty for now as she wonders who she will capture, whose head will it bear tonight. https://www.pikerpress.com/article.php?aID=10546
Red Dawn There’s a new dawn breaking red lighting up the sky, colouring the clouds and even the people below. But the shepherds warn of stormy weather following the red with darker times ahead, as the red breaks and fragments out of control, challenged both by darkness and the paler tints moving in. Chaotic. Unharnessed. Shadowy. Unclear which forces will pick up the reins before the red sun sets at the end of the day. https://masticadorestaiwan.wordpress.com/
Forty Million Tonnes And Counting Forty Million Tonnes and what do we get? Almost a song lyric written for those who don’t get older, the uncounted ones lost in the rubble of Gaza. Forty Million Tonnes of homes, roads, and infrastructure converted into rubble that will take uncountable years for us to clear and still longer to rebuild towns and villages, to replant crops and trees. And who are the ‘us’ - the ones who will pay. The same ‘us’ as did it before and will do it again unless perpetrators are held accountable. And while this goes on, year upon year ‘they’ will feed those surviving living still in that wasteland of rubble. The same ‘they’ as did it before, are trying to do it now and will do it again unless perpetrators are held accountable. And how will we, us, they and them deal with the hate engendered. It will have to be dealt with, then what will we do as we count the cost once again. https://dissidentvoice.org/2024/07/forty-million-tonnes-and-counting/
Scorpio’s Secret I’ve kept our secret a long time, the mystery of our passion and, ever resourceful, I stored it deep in the watery underworld. But now I’ve forgotten where I buried it and my crabby comrades are long gone. Their hard shells tell me nothing, perhaps they never did, but it was guarded by Pluto to make sure it was safe. We had a deal then, back in the days when I thought him reliable now I’m not sure if I can trust him. Perhaps he’s already dug it up I won’t know till I find him, if I can find him, and when I do it’s resting place will remain my secret. I’ve already lost our passion, it’s buried forever. And now I shall become a hermit, give up my hard shell keep myself secret, I need no one else. https://4fpzodiacenergy.blogspot.com/2024/07/lynn-white.html
Fishy Tales I thought you’d left me forever that I was beyond rescue drowning but I see you now full of energy in your element floating rising to the surface ready to pluck me out of the water, warm me up, carry me home. A true Piscean you knew me better than I know myself. Knew me in those watery depths where I even grew a fishes tail. You can tell me about it later you know I love your fishy tales. https://4fpzodiacenergy.blogspot.com/2024/07/lynn-white.html
So Much Bull “You’re just like me,” said the woman in the Art Group, “we both paint freely in bright colours and constantly re-paint and make make changes, wear the paper thin even until we’re content with it all. We’re both Taurus you see - stubborn, dedicated, determined” I used to reply that I wasn’t into astrology, didn’t believe it at all. Then she would describe the Taurus personality and I recognised her. It fitted her perfectly: patiently determined to persevere till the job is done, relaxed and reliable but not afraid to speak out, a force to be reckoned with bravely eccentric enough to dye her hair green long after punk and youth had passed. And so focused, ultra well organised she had everything smartly sorted. But I could also recognise myself as she described herself, so then I wondered… https://4fpzodiacenergy.blogspot.com/2024/07/lynn-white.html