THE WRITER'S FRIEND ( over heard in a cafe)



'Lady Bird'   by   Trish

  "If anyone asks me what I do, I reply with pride, and dignity,  I'm a writer, yes I write! 

True, I've not as yet had anything published,

but absolutely everybody knows it's an

almost impossible field to break into, and besides,

 the crown jewels have already, been filched!

What do I mean by the crown jewels? Filched?

Opportunities, connections to those who pull the strings
that make the wheels of the world turn. No, a better word
than turn is spin!
All the people with power, in my area, of creation,
 have had, their pet poets, writers, wisdom warriors,
of the future, decided upon. long ago.

How do I know this? Experience! oh naive one, experience! And keeping my eyes and ears open at all times.
Who chose the people now in power, before they were in power? How should I know? Those sort of questions
that lead nowhere, will get you exactly that, nowhere!

If there's one thing a writer can not afford, it is to be
distracted. Focus is the key!

write, write, write, then whittle it all down, down to nothing!
until the essence of it has been distilled once and forever!
Then put the cork in the bottle, and pop it in the post box, off to an editor!

Well thanks for the chat,  I thought you seemed a bit down when you arrived.
Hope I've lifted your spirits, and do keep up the good work,
your style is bound to find a corner one day. After all, your writing is so easy to read, one,
 need barely think about it. By the way, my choice of the word filched, was poor, not nearly strong enough".
Bye.

Tushie     1986

SILVER AND GOLD



'Emma'  by  Trish



See this, how it shines, silver and gold?

How warm and good it is.

What is it you ask? It's my love.

Won't you accept  it?

Hm, yes, it is  a dangerous word,

especially, when  afraid. of it.

What say, we play a game, you hide, 

and with closed eyes, I'll seek you out.

If I fail to find you, I'll go on my way,

Wait! I've not yet closed my eyes.

Tushie      1991

THIS CHILD



'Yearning'  by  Trish 



I cannot press close enough

to soil, rocks, sand and mountains.

Rise high enough, to touch sun moon and stars.

Drink with my eyes enough rivers, rain or seas.

Love enough men, women, children,

to appease my hunger or satisfy my thirst.

Tushie    1989

THE GIFT



'Earth Mother All At Sea'  by  Trish 

If I possessed the gift of discernment,

I'd say to the suffering soul,

'Come let me help you,

with that stretch of tautness within.

The tautness that holds, rocking horses and dark dreams.

Dreams of lost and marauding brothers'.

I'd say 'take my hand, let us walk together,

over this rough ground, across this stony bridge, built

for souls like us. See, how as one, we pass freely

 in and out

of the sunless mania, through the moonless night?'

Yes, all this and more I'd say, if I possessed the gift.

THE DREAM FIDDLER



'Deep Sleep'  by  Trish

This is what I dreamt, and this is how it went.
I was seated (in my dream) at a small ornate writing desk,

set far back on a mountain  ledge.
Printed on a small sign in front of me, were the words  "Welcome to Pearl Mountain". The letters looked to be created from pearls of the darkest gray, or even black, and they were set out on a square slate of mother of pearl

Pearls of palest pink, full of rose fragrance, rested beneath my bare feet. Ribbons of iridescent  light streamed from the pearls and surrounded me.

 I understood immediately what I was about, I was writing upon pages of the  heart, with the ink of friendship. I'd written 'Friendship is the only path, to the heart of the other'.

I clearly remembered  (in my dream)  how I'd  had to travel along a  narrow gravel road, before ascending Pearl Mountain.
The road was bordered on either side, with trees of a russet tone. Leaves fallen from the branches remained suspended mid-air. A purple, mist or perhaps a haze, surrounded each tree, and emanated a perfume of, I really can't say?
 I've never encountered such a delicate fragrance outside of the dream.
The usual scary things that, lurk around me, (outside of my dreams) were there,
 hiding behind trees and bushes, scuttling and shuffling one minute, stone still the next.

I'd shouted as  I'd hurried on "I know you're up to no good,
 but you can't trick me, because I'm up to lots of good".
Behind me, a laugh cackled its evilness. But, I just didn't have time to bother,
because I was on my way to the very top of  Pearl Mountain.

 I called out,  ( in a voice nothing like mine)
"Friend, Friend, Wise Friend, please wait for me".

At the step, which looked like the last to the very top,
I lost my breath; as I frantically searched within myself,
I sat, or more like fell, onto one of the two chairs
placed at the ornate writing desk, and panted and gasped.
The child voice that calls  for help,
started up in my ears.

"There's trouble, trouble
more than double"

(whenever my breath is stolen, or is in danger, the child voice is really urgent))


As was the case outside of my dreams, so it was inside,
I could find  barely enough breath to stay alive.
And that, if you can recall,  is pretty much
where I began my dream story.

In the next part of my dream, another  light joined  the  rippling ribbons.
 But, this wasn't a 'rippling', it was a towering, intense, narrow  beam
that circled and  pressed towards
 the centre of the ribbons of color.  This  light was the
'Wise Light of Pearl Mountain'! I just knew it!

I've no idea, how I came to think this way, about the 'Wise Light',
or how I knew about  colored pearls, but in my dream, I just did.

Here was my chance to uncover as many problems as  possible,
 and sort them out once and for all, so I went straight to the point.
I asked the 'Wise Light' what I could do, to understand my heart's intentions,

towards the following.

MY TROUBLE'S LIST
1. the Fiddler of emotions
2.  my murky dreams
3.the unseen things that scuttled behind me, or in front of me
4. the child voice in my ears, calling for help
 5. the sound of crunching, munching glass in my ears,
 6.  the giant bear of  gray smoke, that haunted me night,
     and day.
7. And, most important of all, how to keep my breath  safe
when fearfulness entered  to steal it.

Although I talked as fast as I could, I had to leave a lot unsaid,
there were just too many problems to get all of the answers in one visit.

There weren't any, real answers, to speak of that is, but there was something.

It may have been 'a feeling? or a certain sense?'

Whatever it was, it gave me a feeling of great happiness.

Then from the same 'certain sense',

I felt it was time to leave, and to return another day.

As I descended  'Pearl Mountain', the terrain kept changing before my eyes.
Prickles and all sorts of  sharp things, tore at my bare feet, fierce black arrows  zipped above my head. At times I was so wobbly, I was afraid I'd fall, so I picked up a stout stick to steady
myself, then a second stick, before I  finally arrived safely back at the gravel road.

The terrain there, had also changed,  it was now barren and the wonderful perfume had gone.
There was nothing left to use as a landmark on my return visit to  the top of Pearl Mountain.
From the corner of my eye, I saw, a  Palm tree evolve, with lots of  brown and white striped heart shaped rocks piled up at its base.

Respectfully, I approached the Palm tree, placed the palms of my hand's on the top most rocks
and whispered, "When I return,  please remember me". Again the shimmering  ribbons, with the towering white beam of light circling them and pressing ever inwards, surrounded me, spread out and over the rocks and turned each  into a gleaming heart shaped lantern. In the centre of each, was a  flame; I was sure the Wise Light had  entered, a fragment of itself  into each rock,-heart and  now rested there aglow, a silver wing-like flame, inside the heart of each one.
As I turned to go, I heard a sigh,  it said, "Hurry back". I called out, "I will, I will, and next time, I'll bring a friend with me".


Tushie                                                    (To be continued)

IN MY DREAM



'Breath Of Fire'  by  Trish

Like  tops of two teacups

Our mouths press in a perfect circle,

and your warm, sweet breath flows deep into me.

In my heart, I know, my breath does not flow.

Mine is a great yawning yowl,

that's barred, lest the mighty roar of sound

rip all to pieces.

Like a whirlwind, it would destroy all before it,

up, up into a whirling vortex of destruction and devastation,

before the tirade, if ever, was sated.

BEYOND THE EDGE,



'Sleep'  by  Trish

 In my dream world, trees dance, rocks move

Shadows shaft sillouettes of shapes

While  the warm earth holds close the last rays of day.

then slips into the night

 

 In my, stillness at dusk,
A pale moon spills its light over

The shadow of things.

A quiet breath, a deep sigh

And the silent press of time,

Closes my dream world eyes.

Further, further down I go 

Stop! at the waters edge

Come now, delight with me

In the world of my daring dreams

Filled with golden streams that, drift and shimmer
Beyond the waters edge, and carry me in my bed.


ODDS AND ENDS
I note, she wears a gardenia at her waist
A gold chain on her wrist
And the hot, cold rage on my tongue,
Lets me fall into nowhere.

"Dear daughter, dance for me! sing for me!

Do it for me! all for me!" she says.

She's tangled in my hair,

Clutching at me with a thousand hands

Catching me to her with a thousand arms and needs.

Now I begin, to talk to myself, hug myself,
Perform, my existance.
Now,  I've become a shadow,
One's hand could pass through sharp and clean
 A slant of light, that slides, across, an empty,
 silver-gray, murky screen.